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#you want customers for your shop? Pay for an ad
imidori-ya · 7 months
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Screaming crying scratching at the walls of my enclosure because it’s now somehow necessary to not just use social media but excel at it to even be considered for any of my dreams jobs??!?! Since when do I need 30k followers to be good at something other than a popularity contest?? Why does follower count matter to how good of an artist, writer, or general creator I am? I shouldn’t be required to know how to market and pander to the masses when all I want to do is create art! I just want to make things! I don’t care about selling them to the most people ever! I don’t care about notoriety! I’m a creator! I. JUST. WANT. TO. CREATE!!!
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zooophagous · 1 year
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So why do you hate the advertising industry?
Hokay so.
Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.
I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.
I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.
Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.
Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.
Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.
I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.
And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.
Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.
Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.
And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.
Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.
It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.
It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.
And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.
Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.
Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.
However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.
I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.
Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.
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teabutmakeitazure · 9 months
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Dissimulation
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>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (Modern au)
>Word Count: 11.6k words (slow burn)
>a/n: my offering for best boy's birthday
Warnings: coercion, Childe doesn’t know how to flirt, blood is finger licking good, panic attack
An unwelcome customer turned into an unwelcome acquaintance has been terrorising your life starting from your minimum wage job. Perhaps your flight back home is your only way out.
Continuation
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Patience is a sign of virtue. Or at least that’s what your mother taught you when you were growing up. No, it’s all just some elaborate scheme for the notorious members of society to make others more docile and submissive to them.
Regardless, you don’t say anything, tired already as it is and just wait for the month to be over so that you can get your pay and go back home.
Even if he seems to like you, you would rather not push your luck. Despite only being in this city as a student, you’ve picked up that it’s best not to engage with the local mafia members, even if they seem friendly. Just keep your head down and return the greeting if given one. If one of them comes to your shop, treat them as a regular patron, and if a fight breaks out somewhere with one of them, do not take sides. Simply leave as quietly as you can.
Unfortunately, you have no such choice or opportunity to keep contact to a minimum. That is why you opted to bide your time and sneak out as quickly as you can and never opt for minimum wage jobs again. Maybe you could get a paid internship next time. You’ll probably meet the course requirements.
The dreaded convenience store you are currently walking to is situated a ten minute walk away from your campus dorms. Having to stay there and beep items all day was its own form of punishment as it was, but with the crowd that had recently started to come in these last few months, it started to seem more like a form of purgatory.
You still remember the lecture your friend had given you on how to act normal around the mafia community. The fact that they recently got active in this neighbourhood is simply an added bonus. Honestly, you’ve been counting the days when your incarceration will end with your flight. You just want to go home and hug your cats first, family members second. 
The bell chimes as you walk inside, and you sigh when you see the mess of ginger hair and a dangling red earring already waiting for you. At least this time his back is turned while he scrolls his phone even if he is sitting near the register.
About that, where’s the manager? He should be at the register right now since your shift just started.
“You’re late,” the dreaded man scrolling his phone points out, eyes not leaving the phone screen.
Keeping your friend’s advice in mind, you decide to reply before twisting the knob to the employee room. “Sorry. I was doing laundry.” A lie but you aren’t going to tell him that you got distracted watching cat videos.
No greetings were exchanged and he didn’t even look up at you. Strange, but it’s best to only reply when talked to. Getting too friendly might backfire.
Still, you decide to say something just for good measure.
“Is the manager in today?” you ask, eyes on him while your hand remains on the knob.
All you receive in response is a shrug.
Thus, you enter the employee room, and there you have it! Mister manager sits on the desk in all his white polo shirt glory.
The door hinges squeak loudly behind you when you close the door. Stepping to the desk, his head slowly rises to look at you when you greet him, but he doesn’t respond. After you’ve slipped on the employee uniform jacket and pinned your nametag, he speaks.
“I may have made a mistake.”
That causes you to frown. “What happened?”
“The guy outside… I… I didn’t realise he’s a high ranking member. I may have asked him to leave because he’s been here for half an hour already and… well…”
“Well, what?”
He shakes his head. “Well, he sort of jokingly said that the building belongs to his division and that the store could close if he wanted it to.”
“...”
“Look. I know you’re a student, so I promise I’ll pay you somehow, but please! He listens to you, right? Try to appease him!”
                        
You groan. “I’m sure he meant it as a joke.”
“Please!”
“Alright alright. I’ll… try.”
Honestly, you don’t know what you’re going to do. He’s a higher ranking member, you know that much, but why he even bothers to be so friendly and chatty with you is out of your scope of understanding. At least now those tough looking ones that drop by in the evening don’t test your patience anymore.
Cautiously, you open the employees room door and head back outside. There’s still no one in the store, but you know that afternoon rush hour is about to start. With you on the register seat, the dreaded man who will stay with you on another shift turns his body to face you, phone immediately slipping into his pocket.
“So,” he drawls, “was the manager inside?”
You put your phone on the little shelf underneath the cash drawer. “Yes. He was inside.”
“Was he mad?”
“Um no.” You look at him questioningly, brow raising when he just smiles. “Should he be?”
“Who knows?”
“Right…”
Silence ensues and you briefly ask yourself why he’s less chatty today. You can’t believe that it’s concerning you. Sure, he’s a very dangerous person if he’s so young and in the mafia of all things, but dangerous people are downright terrifying if pissed. At least you’re not the one at fault. Besides, three more weeks and it will be time for your flight.
You just hope you make it.
“Something on your mind?”
He’s looking at you now, cheek resting in his palm. He’s even gotten closer, next to you to be precise. You don’t think you heard him get closer.
Nervously, you give a little laugh. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?” Dull blue eyes bore into yours, gently forcing you to answer truthfully. The lack of vitality in them unnerves you but that is precisely what compels you to answer.
“Well… the manager said that you might get the store to close…”
“That? I didn’t think he’d tell you. Anyway, I was messing around,” he smiles. “You’re a student, so it would be unfair to you to suffer in consequence to him.”
The statement doesn’t make you feel any better. “Ah, you’re too kind sir Tartaglia.”
Like before, the way you addressed him makes him frown. “Just call me Childe. Tartaglia is only for my men. Though… if you would prefer…” he leans in, hand that was previously holding his face now gripping the edge of the table as he whispers dangerously close to your ear, “I’d gladly tell you my birth name.”
He backed away again, a smile on his face. “And I know you wouldn’t tell anyone haha.”
How do you even reply to that?
Scratch that, should you even reply to that?
He’s looking at you again, that smile that doesn’t reach his eyes gracing his lips and impatience oozing from his face. You sense that he’s waiting for an answer so you try your best to comply.
“Understood... Childe.”
The name feels foreign on your tongue, and you blame the unfamiliarity on the nervousness that comes with being near him. Thankfully your answer seemed to appease him and he happily nodded.
Okay, one problem solved. You’ll get your minimum wage salary. Another problem. You’ll have to endure the awkwardness because you don’t have it in you to call him out.
As if on cue, your employer exits the employee room and heads for the exit without even looking at you. The fast walking didn’t make his exit any graceful, but it did make it seem important with how Childe eyed his movements.
Silence settles again as you blankly stare at the empty store in front of you. Regrettably, you’re a little worried about what might happen when you’ll be back after summer vacation. You never told him that you’re leaving for home and the white polo dunce of a manager has been sworn to secrecy about it after he flat out told Childe which institution you study at right in front of you.
Protecting your personal details is your job, so you’ve taken it into your own hands. It isn’t wise to tell a mafia member who obviously pines to be more than just acquaintances about your personal life and details. Thus, you will slip away to home on a weekend flight.
What happens after you’re back is something you didn’t consider.
Well, almost two months would have passed by then. Surely he wouldn’t care anymore… right?
You hope he doesn’t. Perhaps it would be best to avoid this neighbourhood. Maybe even look into school transfers to be safe.
“Something’s on your mind again.”
His voice cuts through the air like a dart and lodges into your head. Is it so wrong to simply want some peace? No wait. Peace is bad. If he's quiet then that’s bad. You’ll have to humour him.
Thus, you take a deep breath. Act normal, you tell yourself. You aren’t the criminal here. You’re a humble student trying to earn some money. Relax. 
“Well,” you drawl, “I’m just spacing out.”
You don’t even look at him, eyes still fixed on the empty store.
“You must be thinking about something.”
Grumbling, you internally curse your luck. Patience is running out and you don’t know how long you can remain civil with him breathing down your neck like this. Maybe he had a bad day and that’s why he’s more inquisitive than chatty.
“Nothing,” you sigh. “I’m not thinking about anything. Just waiting for rush hour to start so that my shift can go by quickly and I can go home and sleep.”
“Hm.” He’s closer now, and you can see him in the corner of your eye. “So you’re tired of this job?”
“Tired of the people that come here actually. Most of them are so shady it’s unreal.” Now that that’s said, you hope he doesn’t realise that the jab is actually at him.
“I realise that. I saw what kind of crooks used to come here. They mostly thought they could intimidate the people working here, but all that’s in the past now.”
Well, you do owe him the credit of straightening them out. If it wasn’t for Childe, you’d still have to endure taunts from those weirdos about how they can take anything from the store and you can’t do anything about it. Regardless, you can’t be certain whether his presence is actually good or bad.
“Anyway,” he’s behind you now, hands suddenly on your shoulders, “you’re not from here, right? Any plans to visit home for the summer?”
Well… shit.
How do you go about this… 
You never told him that you’re not from this city, so that can only mean that white shirt dunce did. Great. 
“I’m not sure,” you reply. Would it be wise to ask him how much he knows? Childe does seem to be friendly in all the weeks you’ve known him. Ah. You’ll take that chance. Slowly turning around in your chair, his hands remove themselves from your shoulders when you face him. “Did my manager tell you anything?”
Now you’re looking into his eyes, but he doesn’t seem affected at all.
“I asked him about it. He told me that you might go home for the summer if you can afford the ticket.”
Okay so maybe the manager saved you a little there, but you still need to answer him. So, you settle with going with what he said. 
Nodding, you look at Childe standing in front of you again. “I'm planning to decide by the end of this month. If I do go home, I'll put in a one week notice. Hopefully it isn't a problem."
He smiles. "Don't worry. It won't be."
You can't tell if he's comforting you or making notes to assist you. Either way, he doesn't know about your flight. Figuring out how to get him off your back when you come back for the next semester will be for when you're home.
"Anyway," Childe says, breaking the silence, "are you doing anything after your shift?"
Where did that come from?
Tilting your head a little, you act innocent in hopes he gets the hint. "Depends on what I'm asked. I do have some pending work. Why? Do you need me for something?"
"No. Just asking. What about tomorrow?"
"I'm not sure about tomorrow yet…"
Childe chuckles. "Then how about you make a reservation for the evening, with me?"
"W-why?"
"I just wanted to take you out for dinner. Is that alright?"
Did… did you just get asked out on a date?
Seeing your confusion, Childe chuckles again. “I promise I’m not going to kidnap you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll just take you out, treat you to dinner, and drop you home. No shady stuff.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, tongue teasingly peeking out.
You suppose there’s no way out of this, but still try nonetheless. “What if something important comes up? Would it be okay to… cancel…?”
His hands go back to his hips. “Important? What could be more important?”
“Um, my summer courses? I still get assignments for those…” You hope that doesn’t offend him, but judging from his face he looks more confused than angry.
Childe clicks his tongue, a scolding look on his face. “You can’t get an assignment with a same day submission date, so that’s out of the question. But hearing your response, it’s alright if you’d rather not go.” He sits back down, arms crossed. “I would prefer it if you'd be honest with me. Prevaricating with lies is more than just annoying, you know.”
In the silence of the store, you can feel your heart beating loudly in your ears, the thump a scolding sound for your stupidity. If he’s angry with you, who knows what could happen. “No! Not at all. That’s not what I meant.” Your patience is still being tested but at this very moment you’re more fearful. “I’m just worried because those courses are counted in my cumulative GPA, and I can’t afford to let it drop!”
“So you’re only worried about your grades?”
“Yes!”
“And you’re not opposed to getting dinner with me?”
“Yes! Wait…”
He smiles. “Go on~”
You narrow your eyes at him, fear all gone and annoyance taking its place. “I sense I’ve made a mistake here.”
The teasing smile turns into an encouraging one and with a sigh, you surrender. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”
He gives a little celebratory ‘yes’ but you cut him short. “But I need to be back home by ten max.”
“Wait… your shift ends at seven…”
You cross your arms, finally getting back at him. “And what about it?” Seriously. Was he planning to hog your entire evening?
“That’s way too short!”
“I have a curfew placed on me by my mother back home. If I phone her any later than ten pm local time, she loses it. I would rather not be screamed at.”
“Alright. That’s fair.”
Now that that’s done, you still can’t believe you just agreed to a date with him.
However, Childe looks more than just ecstatic. He’s practically jumping in his seat, leg bouncing up and down and a wide smile on his face. When you raise a brow at that, he just smiles at you, practically oozing happiness.
He stays the same way, quiet and happy and fidgety as customers start to come in. As usual, he doesn’t say anything while you’re ringing them up and just stares. It’s when the rush dies down a little and only one guy is in the store that he speaks.
“Don’t you ever get tired of working so hard?”
You look at him from the corner of your eye. With his face in his palm, he’s staring directly at you. “I’m beeping items with a barcode scanner. I don’t see why it’s hard.”
“It is actually,” Childe says, firm in his statement. “I think you’re just used to the extra work so you don’t find it bothersome.”
“Maybe,” you shrug.
“Hm. You deserve better. Perhaps… someone who would take care of you, no questions asked. Someone… who would treat you as you deserve, cherish you, and make you happy.”
The way he speaks makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t let it show. Patience, you remind yourself. A few more weeks and you’ll be gone.
“There’s no need for others to look at you like this.” He sighs, “I hope that changes soon.”
You have no idea what he’s talking about, so you’re grateful the guy who was browsing the drinks for the last five minutes finally came to the counter. You busy yourself with billing him, but Childe just… stares. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you for a second.
Now, the regret of agreeing to dinner seeps in.
The customer leaves, and as soon as the door closes, you hear a phone buzzing. Before you even look at your phone, Childe has already pulled his out of his pocket and answers. He doesn’t give a response to whatever was said on the other side, brows furrowing as he cuts the call.
The chairlegs drag against the floor when he stands. “Sorry but I have to go.”
You don’t dare question the oddity despite your surprise to him leaving before your shift ends. “Alright.”
“I’ll pick you up outside your dorm. Is that okay?”
“Okay but what time-”
“I have your number. I’ll text you, don’t worry.”
With that, he’s out, leaving you confused inside the store. Considering the lack of smile and the fact that this is the first time he left before seven pm, it must have been something work related.
You just hope nothing advances after the dinner tomorrow.
-
He really does have your number. You don’t remember ever giving it to him, so you don’t dare question how he got his hands on it. At exactly 8: 06 pm he texted you that he would pick you up at 7: 30 pm outside your dorm tomorrow. That means that you would have around ten minutes to get ready. 
Ten minutes are too much. You’re only going to change, maybe put on some lip gloss if you look too dead. No makeup and no accessories that could possibly make you look more attractive. Simple and plain is the goal.
Speaking of dinner, you’re going to have dinner with a mafioso. Perhaps you really should look into school transfers during the summer.
This sort of vicissitude was not welcome in the slightest, but you’ll have to work around it. If nothing else, you’re thankful that Childe is respectful of most basic boundaries and hasn’t attempted anything yet. Maybe if he wasn’t working where he was, you would’ve given him the time of day.
At 8: 19 pm, he texts you again. ‘Make sure to dress well :) I’d like to see you in a dress if you have any.’
Dress? Does he mean a fancy one? You send back a message asking for clarification, but he only replies with, ‘Anything casual and cute would work.’
Casual and cute… is he really bluntly asking you that?
7: 17 pm. You kick off your shoes and head inside, dashing straight to the bathroom to wash your face. You’re less tired than usual because of Childe’s absence at the store today, something that made the manager anxious, but you didn’t dare tell him about the date.
7: 23 pm. You change into the baby blue Gingham maxi dress you bought a week before finals. It flows just fine, and you grace the look only with pearl studs. Wallet and phone are shoved into the pockets of the dress, and to not look soulless, you apply some lip gloss. The gloss is also stuffed into your pocket in case you want to reapply it later, which you would rather not but you never know. 
7: 28 pm. You set your hair again and slip on your sandals. One last look in the mirror and you give yourself a thumbs up. The look is something you would wear to a casual hangout with friends. Doesn’t look very try-hard or date-like. Perfect.
7: 30 pm. You open the door and head out. Pushing the elevator button, you check your phone for any messages while the elevator reaches your floor. Sudden nervousness makes you a little nauseous, but you breathe in slowly, telling yourself it’s no big deal.
The elevator door opens and as you step in, you collide with a very firm body. One look to the face of this body, and you’re frozen.
“Going somewhere?”
You nervously chuckle. “Childe. What’re you doing here?”
He ushers you both inside the elevator, pushing the ground floor button. “I’m here to pick you up? Did you forget about dinner?”
“Ah, no… it’s just… they don’t allow outsiders without a resident escorting them. I was going to wait in the lobby.”
“Really? The watchman let me in pretty easily.”
You don’t even want to know what that means.
“Anyway,” Childe says, voice louder than the gentle elevator music, “you look lovely.”
You glance at his maroon button down and roman silver dress pants, eyes resting on his earring. “Thanks. You look… fine as well.”
“Fine? I only look fine?” He’s leaning towards you now, and the elevator suddenly feels too small. Before you can be pressured into a reply, the doors open and you hastily step out into the lobby.
A chuckle comes from behind you, and soon you’re following him outside to a black car parked a little farther from the dorm entrance. With every step you take, you pray that no one left in your building for the summer catches you.
The car is unlocked with a beep, and though you’re a borderline broke student with no knowledge of expensive things because you can’t afford them so why bother, you can tell that the car is expensive. Or maybe it’s just polished to perfection, but it looks expensive.
Regardless, this is the hard part. Do you sit in the front seat or the back seat? The back seat would be rude but the front seat would be too straightforward. The front seat is too intimate and close but the back seat is too alienating. Shit. What do you do?
You leave your choice to luck and close your eyes, reaching for a door handle. Whichever you grab will be where you sit. Upon grabbing one, you open the door just to hear another one open as well. You open your eyes and a car speeds by at the same time.
Childe stands next to the open front seat door, a brow raised as he looks at you incredulously. You look at him, then to the door you just opened, then to him again. The door you opened is graced with your gaze once again before it’s Childe’s turn.
It’s silent, awkward, and you can’t shake the feeling that you messed up before the date even started.
“Would you… prefer the back seat?”
You blink at him, courage all gone when you reply. “Ah, no! It’s not that. I-I just wasn’t thinking. Sorry…”
Childe’s brow is still raised. “Okay. I’m not your driver. I’m your date. So, I’d like it if you sat in the front.”
Shit. Everything has gone to shit. You agreed to the dinner just to appease him and leave things on a good note instead of a sour one, yet you’ve already made things bad. Great job, [Name]. Aren’t you just wonderful?
Awkwardly, you close the door you opened and get in, allowing Childe to shut the door next to you before slipping into the driver’s seat. He starts the car, puts on his seatbelt, cracks his fingers, and folds his sleeves to the elbow before exiting the parking and going onto the road.
Your seatbelt feels uncomfortable in the heavy silence. Thoughts of what Childe might do if displeased swirl inside your mind but you frankly don’t know what. He seems to like you. He has never mistreated you besides being creepy a few times. Perhaps he’d forgive you. He always says your airheadedness is cute.
The pounding heart inside your chest gets more aggressive when Childe clears his throat, lips parting to give you another mini heart attack. “Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a secret.”
The pounding heart quiets down a little, confusion kicking away some of the anxiety. “Then it’s good I didn’t ask out of my own accord.”
A secret? What does he mean by that? Scratch that, is the location being a secret a good thing or a bad thing? Should you text your live location to someone? But all your friends are gone for the summer. That one girl you’re acquainted with on one of the upper floors might help if you disappear. At the very least, your jokes in the conversations you’ve had might at least let her sympathise enough to report your status to the police.
“Are you scared?”
Childe’s question makes you look at him, your heart going back to pounding crazily upon seeing his smile. “S-should I be?”
“No. You should never be scared when you’re with me.” His eyes are still on the road. “I realise you have a negative impression of me, but there’s no reason for you to be scared. Well, not you but others should be, but that’s besides the point.”
“Ah. I see.” No. You don’t see, but just go along.
“Mhm. That dress looks amazing on you.”
He takes a right turn at the green traffic light, and you briefly glance at his flexing arms as the steering wheel turns. “Thanks,” you reply. “The dress has pockets.”
As a demonstration, you pull out your phone and show it to him. Childe chuckles at that, calling it cute and you find your heartbeat growing tamer. The phone is shoved back inside and pleasant conversation fills the car on the way.
Childe asks about how university is, how your finals went, and how you’ve come to find the city. You answer the last question truthfully, hands fidgeting as you tell him about your reservations with the ‘law and order’ situation and how you’ve been begged to steer clear of the mafia. The statement is followed by a joke of you doing a horrible job at that, and Childe laughs, saying that you don’t have to be afraid of anyone in the city anymore.
The comforting sentence doesn’t comfort you at all.
The car stops in front of a restaurant and Childe opens the door to allow you to step out. Keys are given for valet parking, and Childe takes your hand as he leads you inside. Thankfully, it’s not as fancy as you thought. It’s not even as expensive, the kind of restaurant where you could arrange a fancy friend get-together. 
The not so high end restaurant doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but sitting across Childe does. He apparently made a reservation for the rooftop, so here you are, wind gently blowing in your hair as he unbuttons another button of his shirt.
“Do you like it?” He’s looking at you now, eyes briefly going to your phone when you place it on the table.
“It’s… nice.”
“I didn’t choose somewhere any fancier because I figured you might get uncomfortable. Next time though.”
Next time? Good God what is he planning?
Your face may have given it away because he's tilting his head at you, earring dangling in tandem as he acts coy. "Is something wrong? Do you not like the idea?"
"N-no. That's not it…"
"Hm?"
You gulp. "Ah it was just a little sudden. That's all."
"I'm glad." He's back to smiling now, face resting on his palm. "I'll make sure to treat you like how you should be next time."
Again, next time? Not happening.
Childe grabs the menu, requesting that you let him order for you both. He says something about the taste of home and this restaurant being the only one able to recreate that, but you don't bother. You simply brush him off, telling him he can go ahead.
It's when a few minutes have passed since ordering that he speaks again. Luckily, the clanking of plates and chatter helps tone down your nervousness.
"I come here whenever I miss home. This restaurant actually originated from my homeland, so I thought I'd bring you here. It's not high end as well, so that's an added bonus."
You nod. "Interesting."
Elbow on the table, he rests his chin on the back of his hand, blue eyes studying you carefully. The observant gaze makes you feel small, and you end up clearing your throat when his gaze drops to your collarbone.
You look him in the eye as you speak. "It's a little awkward, isn't it?" 
He tilts his head like earlier again. "What is?"
"The silence."
"Ah. Sorry. I just couldn't help myself. You look stunning."
Unlike the previous times, the compliment makes your cheeks heat up. It's probably because this time he's looking right at you with the faint hint of red on his cheekbones. Seriously. He's so human. You wonder how he ended up being in the mafia.
Childe doesn't allow silence to settle again, chatting away about his homeland and how he misses the snow. He says it's easier to go outside in this city's climate, but the memories and people back home make living there worth it. During his rambling, you simply nod along, only adding in a comment wherever you deem necessary.
Patience, you tell yourself. This'll pass. At least you're fortunate in the sense that Childe is accommodating and nice. 
He continues rambling, telling you about his younger siblings. Fulgent expression and energetic voice, you lean forward to give him your attention, content that he's making good conversation. As you listen to him, your fingers start fidgeting with the cutlery set in front of you.
Your eyes remain on him as he recounts a story where his youngest brother Teucer refused to acknowledge his sister Tonia after she got a haircut. Hearing about the young child's inability to recognise his sister makes you chuckle which in turn makes Childe pause to look at you with widened eyes.
A smile stretches on his lips, and you trace the edges of the knife when he resumes. 
"Mama was pretty concerned about that. It took Teucer a few days to accept that his sister looks different now. Ah. I miss them. They're a lively bunch and I miss being with them."
Your thumb runs up and down the edge of the knife while it's clutched in your hand, face resting in the palm of your free hand. "You can visit them if you miss them that much."
Childe gently shakes his head, hair swaying with the movement. "It's not possible at the moment." At your confused expression, he clarifies, "I can't tell you why. It's confidential information."
"That's fair."
"But I am glad I still get to be here. I got to meet you, after all."
"Oh. That's… nice."
"Mhm." He's leaning towards you as well now, both arms resting on the table. "Any development in your plan to visit home? You should go. If you're having any problems with the plane ticket or something then-"
"Ouch!"
The knife drops from your hand, clattering dully on the table. Blood oozes from the pad of your thumb as your hands shake from the startle. It doesn't take Childe even a second to be on his guard.
"You cut your thumb?" He gets up, drags his chair beside you and sits, knees brushing against yours. "You were fidgeting with the knife… well, no matter."
Instead of grabbing a tissue, he takes a hold of your hand and stares at the bleeding cut. More blood oozes out of it the longer he stares and one drop even reaches your palm. However, that isn't what's bothering you. It's the fact that he just licked that blood trail. 
He licked it. And now he's sucking on where the cut should be.
The feeling of his tongue is what brings you back to your senses, confusion and panic overtaking your senses and overwhelming you. Pulling your hand away does nothing because his grip is too strong. Goodness, at least the few tables around you are empty and no one else seems to be looking.
"Childe."
He doesn't let go, pressing your thumb down against his tongue instead.
"Childe. Let go-"
A trail of saliva joins your thumb and his mouth. The two of you make eye contact and you notice a slight blush on his face. Childe then manoeuvres your hand, his lips on your palm as he tenderly kisses the skin messily. 
The action gives you goosebumps but you remain quiet, still confused about what's going on. It's when he finally lets go and presses a tissue to the cut that he speaks.
"Be careful."
You remain frozen, hand in his while the tissue remains pressed over your thumb. You can no longer hear the faint background chatter or feel the gentle breeze in your hair. In your senses are dull blue eyes, freckles dusted across cheekbones and nose, and warm breath fanning over your ear when he leans in.
Childe's voice is a whisper, the edges of his hair tickling your cheek as the chair quietly croaks. "You shouldn't be playing with dangerous things."
He leans back again. With a smile, Childe gets up, drags his chair back to where it was, and seats himself. The air surrounding you both is casual, light, like something completely out of the blue didn't occur. This gives you the hint that it's best to not talk about it.
Elbows on the table, both his palms hold his face as he looks at you with a smile. The skin under his eyes crinkles slightly, freckled cheeks squished, and long auburn eyelashes framing the deep blues. You sit there puzzled and feeling slightly violated while Childe continues staring.
It's honestly a little funny.
Right when you concluded that Childe was nice, he does something completely uncalled for. You remove the tissue that was pressed to your thumb, pleased to see that your blood cells have done their job and the platelets coagulated. It'll probably turn into a scab by the time you get home.
Dammit, now you're nervous all over again. Curse you mass of neurons floating in cerebral fluid! Be useful! Sure, he just sucked on your thumb, but keep it together.
When you look at him again, he's still staring. With a sigh, you ask him about his job, what kind of work he does, but Childe only shakes his head, refusing to answer.
His excuse smoothly exits via soft, pink lips. You didn't know you were looking at them until you heard him speak.
"I don't think you'd enjoy hearing about my job. Plus, it's all confidential."
You will yourself to look back into his eyes no matter how difficult eye contact may seem. "Shady? Is that what you're implying?"
"Hm." He hums. "Let's just leave it at that."
So he admits it? Great. You can't wait for the evening to be over. The bag of chips sitting at home sounds very comforting and appetising right now.
When he continues talking again, you start fidgeting with the edges of your sleeves under the table. You need a distraction. Using your phone would be rude, so you figure abusing the fabric of your sleeves is a better option. It takes a little while for your food to be here, but when it is, you compliment his order and ask him about his choice.
The question serves to keep the conversation easy and light while allowing you to only answer, not speak. This in turn allows nothing uncomfortable to occur during dinner. It’s thankfully uneventful until it's time to pay.
You had no qualms about paying for yourself, but being Childe, he told you he’d take care of it. You had no problem with that either. What you did have a problem with was what he said.
“Let me treat my girl.”
My girl. That’s what he called you. If that’s not a red flag, you don’t know what is. Despite that, you suck it in and let him take you home. Patience. You’ll leave soon and never show your face in his active districts again. Maybe you’ll even transfer schools if you’re lucky.
You’re really hoping you can transfer. He might come find you himself after you come back from summer break. Even with all those troublesome thoughts in mind, you act as casual as you could while sitting in his car as he drives you home. Conversation was nice, the thumb incident was borderline violating, but the meal was tasty.
The car stops near your dorm’s entrance, but before you could make any move to exit the car - hand hovering over the handle - Childe locks the doors. You turn to look at him but he’s already looking at you.
“I need to ask you something,” he says, voice unsure and eyes not meeting yours.
Tentatively nodding, you signal him to continue.
“Did you… enjoy yourself?”
“Huh?” You scold yourself mentally for the confused expression. Clearing your throat, you compose yourself. “Yeah. As far as enjoying dinner goes.”
His eyes finally meet yours, and the eye contact is intense. “I take it that you’d like to do this again?”
“...”
“I don’t mean immediately but maybe sometime in the future?”
Sighing, you slump in your seat. “I can’t be sure.” It’s better to make things clear and not lead him on, even if it’s harsh. “I’m not… looking for something right now. It would be unfair to say yes to you when I don’t mean it.”
Childe’s grip on the edge of his seat tightens, the leather squeaking as it gets abused. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t like me, right?”
“Um, yeah.” You can’t pull your eyes away from his. “You’re… nice.”
He blinks. “I’m nice?”
“Yes.”
Childe’s mouth opens in disbelief before he goes back to his senses with a shake of his head. He leans towards you, hand grabbing the back of your seat and eyes widened. “So that means I have a chance?”
“Well,” you laugh awkwardly, “I never said you didn’t. I just said that-”
“I know I know. You’re not looking for something right now, but that doesn’t mean you won’t change your mind later. I’m not going to do something weird, don’t worry. I just… won’t give up.” He’s smiling as he speaks, happy at the prospect of not being rejected. “I’ll keep trying!”
Honestly, the determination he has is cute but it’s almost 10 pm. “That’s great and all, but could you unlock the door? I really need to go.”
“Oh, of course.” The doors unlock with a soft click and Childe bids you goodbye with another concerning statement. “I’ll make sure you change your mind. It’s a promise.”
The chips in your room lived to see another day.
-
The events of last night’s dinner keep replaying in your mind. It’s like a curse, the moment when Childe grabbed your wrist and gently shoved your thumb inside his mouth. Even with the bandage over it, you can still feel the ghost of his tongue, wet and warm, licking it.
You stop in your tracks to shiver.
It’s infuriating how even on your way to your shift you can only think of him and how he promised to change your mind. So much for leaving without any trouble. Can’t he take a hint? Maybe he’s too dense. It does seem characteristic of him.
The bell chimes when you open the door and head inside. A few customers are browsing the store, one middle aged woman and two office workers to be precise, while the manager sits by the cash register. His white polo shirt greets you before he does and by the time you come back from the employee room changed into your uniform jacket and nametag, the customers are gone.
Beloved and totally not airheaded manager moves away from the register, handing you a little list of work to do and announces that he’s leaving to meet up with someone.
Not even ten minutes of him being gone and the dreaded blue eyed mafioso walks in.
The bell chimes to signal his arrival, and unfortunately you meet his eyes as he stands at the entrance. He’s dressed too casually today, a white T-shirt with some band name on it, blue jeans and white sneakers. If you weren’t aware of his lifestyle, you would’ve thought that he was just another young adult on the street.
“Hi!”
You return his greeting with a simple nod, and he comes in. The only sound is his footsteps till he stops on the other side of the register. You meet his dead eyes again, regret instantly seeping into your bones. Childe’s gaze is affectionate, soft. Being on the receiving end of such a look is overwhelmingly foreign and uncomfortable. 
The freckles dusted across his cheekbones and nose catch your attention, but they fail to be graced with your eyes for long. You immediately look away when you realise you started to stare.
Regardless, Childe acts as though he didn’t notice and rounds the register to sit on the chair next to you like always. He doesn’t speak of the date. Typical conversation plays out, much to your surprise, and you mentally curse yourself for expecting him to bring up yesterday evening.
However, it’s not his casual physiognomy that bothers you. It’s his friendliness and the fact that he has started messaging you like one would a friend. Just yesterday he had texted you for the first time in his life and now he’s spamming you funny videos and memes?
Should… should you be worried?
It might prove to be more difficult to shrug him off. You didn’t want to be harsh and outright reject him for him after how he had seemingly tried to be kind and took you out for dinner, but now it seems like that would have been the correct course of action. It’s not that you’re rejecting him solely on the basis of being a part of the mafia. It’s simply your desire to not be in a relationship right now.
Perhaps he’ll respect your wishes like he did last night, even if he did claim that he will keep trying.
-
You should not push your luck. Really. You shouldn’t. You shan’t do so.
First, you leave his meme spams on read. Then, you have the gall to address him as ‘sir Tartaglia’ again by mistake. The instant fall of his smile had sent a shiver down your spine and reminded you of why you told yourself to be careful. Just because he likes you doesn’t mean you’re safe.
Maybe you are, but that change of expression has creeped you out to no end. It’s better to be safe than sorry.
It has been two weeks since the dinner and Childe has settled with chatting with you over text during the late night hours. Tonight, however, you’ve put your phone away in favour of watching something on your laptop. The screen illuminates your face in the darkness of your room, and your phone’s buzzing briefly catches your attention.
You ignore it, obviously. You’re leaving in one week. This little ‘friendship’ or whatever one could call it is pointless. You’ve already planned on blocking Childe on all the socials he’s invaded as soon as you reach home, a step towards never seeing him again. The less you let him get attached, the easier it’ll be for him to forget you and move on.
-
Childe is… a little annoyed. You didn’t reply to any of his texts for a few days, leaving it on read since he sends some random videos after the texts. He let it slide at first, but now he’s bothered. It’s evident in the way he isn’t smiling or even talking to you for that matter. 
Not wanting to end up on his bad side permanently, you capitulate your ego. “Childe? Is something wrong?” You’re restocking the potato chips as you speak, head peeking over the short aisle to look at him while he sits at the register. “You seem off.”
He makes eye contact with a face devoid of any emotion as if that were the most natural thing to do in the situation. “Why do you ask?”
“I just said so. You seem off.”
“It’s nothing.” Childe looks away, opting to stare at his shoes. He’s wearing casual clothes today as well, something you noted he started doing more often after the date.
Seeing that he won’t budge, you go back to restocking but perk up again when you hear him speak, albeit very softly.
“You’re ignoring me,” he mumbles to himself.
So, you do what comes to mind. Leaving the chip packets on the floor of the empty store, you walk up to him, hands on your hips. “I’m ignoring you?”
He doesn’t look at you, his shoes the most interesting sight in the world. “Yeah.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You don’t talk to me. It’s always me who initiates the conversation.” He looks up, making eye contact. “Is it because I’m in the mafia and you don’t want anything to do with me?”
The subtle accusation makes you defensive immediately, and you stammer. “N-not at all-”
“It is, isn’t it?” The earring hanging from his ear briefly catches your attention when he tilts his head. “That’s why you lied and said that you weren’t looking for a relationship right now.”
“But I’m really not.”
“Relationships aren’t ‘looked for’. They just happen.” Childe leans back in his seat, making you grow more nervous. “And you don’t want one to happen with me just because of where I work.”
Your hands start fidgeting with each other on their own, tongue pushing against your mouth’s hard palate. It takes strength to reply to his imputation. “That’s not true…” Heart beating wildly in your chest, you push the words out. “It’s just… I don’t want a relationship right now.” Think brain, think! “It’s not you, it’s me.” Curse you mass of neurons and amygdala for thinking of this ginger as a serious threat. “So please, don’t think of reasons that aren’t true.”
“But they are true,” he states, like he’s telling you that the moon also exerts gravity on the earth, voice boring and flat. “You just refuse to admit it because you’re scared of me.” Childe’s eyes bore into yours again, seeing through your casual lies and crafted confidence.
“I’m not scared of you.”
“You can’t fool me, [Name]. I’d prefer you to be truthful. Lies just get on my nerves.”
You gulp. There’s no way out of this now. “Sorry…”
“It’s alright. Just keep that in mind for next time.”
“...”
“How can I change your mind?”
“What?” You blink at him, not understanding what he’s asking you. “What do you mean?”
“How can I change your fear of me into attraction? I don’t like knowing that you’re afraid of me.” Childe’s expression turns into a pleading one. Genuine helplessness is written all over his physiognomy which in turn makes you uncomfortable. You feel small under his watchful gaze. It’s as though he’s watching every single movement and breath you take.
“I… don’t know…” Your hands hang by your sides as you stand in front of him, lips pressed into a thin line.
Voice gentle, he tries to persuade you once again. “Please. Tell me how to win your heart.”
“I… I don’t know.” There’s a pitiful helplessness in your voice now, and you don’t know what makes you want to tell him what you are about to. But you do. And you have to watch the realisation appear on his face. “I never wanted your attention.” Admitting that somehow leaves a sour taste in your mouth. “I never wanted anyone’s attention. All I am is a student trying to make ends meet while cussing out the degree I chose for myself.”
Eyes wide, Childe tries negotiating. “I could make your life better.” Hands slam the desk in front of him as he stands, barcode scanner jumping and falling back with a thunk. “I just need one chance. That’s all I need.”
“I’m sorry, Childe, but-”
“No no. I’m not asking. You don’t have to give me one.”
You look into the lifeless blues of his eyes as he continues. “I’ll take that chance whenever I get the opportunity. You don’t have to worry your pretty head over it.”
Somehow his decision to take matters into his own hands unnerves you more than his blatant signs of attraction. It didn’t help that he wordlessly left the store after that.
-
Today is your last shift before you leave for home. Oddly enough, Childe didn’t swing by the store ever since he left the other day, and he isn’t here right now as well. It makes you uneasy. Something’s wrong. You can feel it in your gut.
He hadn’t even contacted you or sent any cat videos or memes, and being the coward that you are, you left things as they were. Hope that you won’t see him again keeps you going and stops you from poking at the obvious issue lest it bites you back.
But… you feel a little guilty. Even now as you stare at the floor on the other side of the cash register, you can’t help but recall how Childe tried his best to keep conversation flowing during dinner despite getting a very rude lack of input from your side. He’s been trying, and you’re the one not giving him the time of day.
Nonetheless, relationships aren’t built on pity. You hope he finds someone else, someone more suited for him. That’s the only wish you have for him even if the moral ramifications are eating you up on the inside.
Still, you can’t stop your mind from wandering to the question of what he meant by taking the chance when the opportunity presents itself. Does he somehow know about your flight? Well, if he did, he wouldn’t have disappeared. Best to end things on a good note rather than a bad one and stay in contact. But what if he doesn’t care anymore?
Though that outcome is the welcomed one, it still stings to think that. Someone losing interest in you isn’t exactly something that makes you feel good. Regardless, it’s welcome in this situation. You were never in favour of his attention being on you and you never will be.
At 7: 08 pm, the bell at the door chimes in goodbye as you step out. The evening rush hour greets you, and you go with the flow of the people rushing home after a long day or work. Well, it’s the weekend tomorrow. At least they have something to look forward to.
The building of your current residence comes into view and relief washes all over you. Just a bit more and you can get into bed. There’s still a few more hours till you leave, and all your luggage is packed. All you need to do is take a nap.
You practically skip to the entrance, the cool air of the lobby’s air conditioning hitting your face. No one is inside and you hurriedly make way to the elevator. 
The nap you took felt like an entire night of rest. With a stretch, you jump out of bed to gather the rest of your things. It’s when you’re locking the door to your room when you realise just how quiet it is. Your apprehension is understandable, if not relatable. You’ve never exited your room after coming back home for the day, so you have no idea what the building is like after a certain hour.
Dragging your suitcase with one hand, hand carry with the other, you haul them both and yourself - the backpack on your shoulders being an honourable mention - inside the elevator. The air is uncharacteristically cool and dry, something elevator music fails to get your mind off of. 
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, but you ignore it in favour of dragging your luggage outside the elevator and into the lobby. Who would be calling this late? Probably your mother. The video call would cut when you step out and the Wifi disconnects, so it doesn’t matter. Key left at the receptionist’s desk, you mentally thank yourself for checking out online in the evening but pray that the key is still here by morning.
Hesitation wins and you end up leaving it next to the pen holder. You were told to drop it off at the desk. It’s not your fault it’s unattended.
The bus stop is a five minute walk away, so with a deep breath, you step out of the lobby and to the outside, allowing the night’s cool breeze to caress your face as your luggage stays grasped in either hand. Your eyes land on the empty road, praying that you don’t get creeped out by the lack of people.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you take a step forward, then another, and another, till you’re a few metres away from the building’s entrance. The breeze is still blowing and the air is cool so you won’t be hot during your wait at the sto-
“[Name]?”
The breeze stops blowing.
“Where are you going at this hour? And… why… is your luggage with you?”
Your breathing is the next to stop, though only momentarily.
Almost on instinct, you let go of everything in your hands and reach for the phone in your pocket. You don’t even bother looking at the source of the voice, eyes glued to ‘Childe’ glowing on your screen as the contact of the missed call. Heart hammering in your chest, you slowly turn to look at him.
Regret and fear seep into your bones at the same time. He’s wearing something similar to what he usually did in the beginning, garnet dress shirt and dark grey dress pants. The gloves on his hands cover his palms but leave the majority of the back of his hands exposed, phone held in the leather grip.
What your eyes focus on first, however, is the earring. It catches the light from the lobby behind him like a beacon, but you’re quick to look away and into the blue irises of his empty gaze.
There’s no time for you to question why you didn’t hear him before he spoke up.
“Are you leaving?” He takes a step forward, phone slipping inside his pocket, and you take a step back. The reaction is all he needs from you to raise his hands in surrender, only coming closer when the wary look on your face softens into something more observant.
“Are you going back home?” Childe stands only one step away when he asks that and tilts his head waiting for an answer. He receives one in the form of a nod, and questions further. “When’s your flight?”
“Half past 3 am,” is your reply.
“So you have a little less than four hours,” he points out. “I actually came here to talk to you. I uh… I missed you and couldn’t help it. If I knew you were leaving, I would have come sooner.”
You’re still watching him attentively, the clothing he’s wearing sufficient to ring alarm bells in your head. “So you wanted to talk?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” you bite your lip, “I guess I’m not running late. The bus will be here in fifteen minutes anyway, so I have time to spare.”
“Perfect!” He grabs both of your luggages and drags them in the opposite direction of your intended destination: the bus stop. It takes a stern question from you for him to stop and look at you with that empty gaze again. “I’m just taking you to my car. I’ll drop you off. There’s no need to bother yourself with the bus.”
Any demurrance from your side is promptly shut down and smoothed over with reassurances that he’d get you to the airport safe and sound. As your packed belongings sit next to the car, Childe eases the backpack off your shoulder and leaves it on top of them.
It’s when he looks at you that the anxiety skyrockets, eating away your consciousness. Alone with Childe, a highly ranked member of the mafia, at near midnight with all your belongings and an assurance to be dropped off the airport safe and sound is an obvious problem.
You should have listened to the uneasy feeling in your gut back in the store.
“So,” he drawls, standing a foot away from you with his hands in his pockets, “I know I was brash and that I shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable and also should have apologised to you later, but I won’t.”
That causes you to perk up, anxiety dying down a little. “You… won’t?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I won’t. It’s because I’m not going back on my words. I know you don’t view me as a potential partner, let alone friend, but that isn’t going to stop me.”
You don’t like where this is going.
Childe continues, eyes still boring into yours. “I don’t understand why you’re afraid of me. I’ve told and showed you countless times that I’m not going to do anything. It’s pointless to waste your energy. All I want is to exclusively be yours and call you mine. Why would I ever do anything to you if that’s what I wish for?”
The sir suddenly feels too suffocating, like not enough oxygen is filling your lungs. There’s a subtle darkness in your vision, one you deal with by walking to and leaning on the parked car, not that it helps. Not with the deeper breaths you’ve started taking. It doesn’t take any more indications for Childe to rush to your side, an unwelcome hand gently stroking your back.
The breeze flows again, caressing your face and blowing through your hair, but you’re still sweating.
You don’t know what happens next, just that you’re inside the car, the AC turned on, a light shining over your head, and a hand still running up and down your back while you take mouthfuls of breaths. They’re quicker now, you note, and a hand - your own hand - rises to cover your mouth as your sight and self-awareness is restored.
The confusion and vulnerability hits you like a truck and the tears simply fall harder.
Each and every time the hand moves over your back, you feel like more of your skin was peeled off, goosebumps still littering over your arms. It takes several minutes for you to somewhat calm down and become cognizant of your emotions and actions. It doesn’t come as a surprise when the first thing you decide to do in that state is cry harder.
What are you crying for? You don’t know. It’s hard enough as it is to just continue breathing. Processing your emotions is for later.
A hand, a foreign one, gently lifts your face, allowing the dashboard to come into view, and turns it to the source. Childe’s blurry image greets you as your chest heaves, warm thumbs swiping away the tears rapidly running down your cheeks. You don’t have time to dwell on where his gloves disappeared to, focusing on the feeling of his warm thumbs feeling cool over your tear stricken face.
Several minutes pass again, and you sit with your face in your hands while Childe puts your luggage inside the car trunk. Reddened, swollen eyes meet his blue ones in the silence of the car, your sniffling being the only sound. Whatever you just experienced was horrible. Had Childe not been… no. He is part of the cause. Him helping you through it is the least he could have done.
The driver’s seat is quickly occupied once again, and Childe breaks the silence, concern present all over his face. “Are you feeling better?”
You nod, too uncertain in your ability to speak. His question of whether or not you want some water is met with a shake of your head, and Childe settles with pressing his lips into a thin line.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think it would upset you that much.”
Voice slightly raspy, you reply after clearing your throat. “It’s alright. I… I didn’t see it coming as well.”
He slumps into his seat, head turned to look at you. Childe’s eyes glaze over your body, looking for potential signs of fear. It seems to him that you’re dazed, confused. It’s advantageous for him, if not relieving. Seeing you afraid or in pain doesn’t elicit any positive feelings.
After receiving your permission, Childe puts on his seatbelt - all the while making sure you fasten yours as well - and reverses the car, intending to drive you to the airport. You’re a bit late compared to what you originally planned, but you suppose he can get you there on time.
The car is eerily quiet with the lack of music. There’s no gentle humming from Childe, only the sound of either of you breathing. Unfortunately for you, the silence fails to last.
“So when are you coming back?” Childe��s voice is calm, flat. He’s completely casual in his question despite your concern that he wouldn’t take kindly to being lied to about such a thing.
“It’s one way,” you lie. Not being held accountable for your verbal deceit helps you gain some confidence. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll be back for class obviously.”
The car is silent again for a while and it fills you with hope for a quiet ride, one where you would get off, thank Childe profusely, and head home never to see him again. Alas hope is crushed, and you freeze in your seat, muscles tensing when Childe speaks again.
“How much more are you going to lie?”
Childe continues driving, acting unaffected with his demeanour and tone, but it wouldn’t take a genius to know that him gripping the steering wheel in a bone crushing grip is anything but him being casual. 
No. He’s certainly upset, and you’re afraid you’re too much at his mercy.
“I gave you another chance and you ruined it.” Childe’s fingers tap rhythmically on the steering wheel, voice even as he speaks. “Why don’t we try again? When’re you coming back?”
You bite your tongue when you feel the initial signs of panic bubbling up your throat. It takes a bit of force to make yourself speak, even if it’s in a more fearful way. “Seven weeks. I’ll be home for seven weeks.”
“You’re not going to block me on your socials when you get there, are you?”
With a shake of your head, you continue looking out the window. “No.” 
He hums, satisfied at your cooperation. “Good.” The car takes a turn, the empty roads seemingly omnipresent. “I’m not going to do anything. I just wanted to know the truth… er, more like hear it directly from you.”
A few minutes of silence pass, but it doesn’t last because you can’t stay quiet for longer. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“I am?” The smile in his voice is evident.
“Yes, you are.” You turn to look at him, nervously gulping at his grin. “Stop messing around.”
He doesn’t reply.
“Childe!”
Your panic fails to affect him in any way. With the fuzziness growing in your mind, there’s not much you can do except grab onto his sleeve. That causes him to look at you, even if just for a moment, but that’s all you get for a reaction. As a last resort, you reach for your phone in your pocket but freeze when you don’t feel the device.
You don’t need to say anything for Childe to provide the answer to your question. “Your phone isn’t there. It’s with me, I’m afraid.”
“Childe,” you say, voice low and pleading, “please stop screwing around.”
He sounds slightly offended when he replies. “You think I’m screwing around?”
“Yes!” Your exclamation doesn’t seem to affect him, so you opt for a more direct approach. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I came with you because I trusted you.” The words are spat out, but Childe only seems amused.
“Trusted me?” He chuckles. “Sweetheart, if you trusted me, you would’ve told me about your flight from the start instead of lying about putting in a one week notice. You’re scared of me, and despite the fact that it stings like salt on an open wound, I suppose there’s some merit to that as well.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean?”
You bite the inside of your cheek now. There’s no way you can tell what Childe means by what he said. Judging from your previous conversations as well, your fear of him is a sour spot, but maybe you could exploit that to your favour.
“I’m afraid of you, because of your unpredictability and that is exactly what you are demonstrating right now.” You grab onto his sleeve again, albeit more desperately this time. “You gave me more reasons to fear you than you did to like you.”
The car slows, as if synchronised with Childe’s thought process. “Is that… really what you think of me?”
“Yes,” you reply in an even voice. “I was already a little scared from what I heard from people and then you started doing all this stuff-”
“Stuff like what?”
“Stuff like this!”
He sighs, moving the steering wheel to stop the car at the side of the road. “I just told you that I can’t ever hurt you, and you’re still calling me scary?”
Your eyes focus on his expression, specially searching for any signs of him lying - hypocritical on your part - but fail to find anything other than sincerity. The grip on his sleeve loosens, your hand ultimately returning to your lap, when he turns to face you. It’s intimidating to look into his dead eyes but it still makes you wonder how such a beautiful colour can be so lifeless.
Childe’s lips move and despite your feelings you find yourself absolutely memorised by the plush pink as his voice leaves his mouth.
“I’m not changing my mind.”
His declaration forces you to focus on his words, any attraction be damned.
“Lying to me and saying that you haven’t decided on leaving for home did get on my nerves a little,” he says, “but I forgive you. You’re cute, so I can’t stay mad at you for long.”
You let his words sink in. He says that he forgives you for the lie, but what now?
“Alright,” you drawl, voice nervous, “now can we please go to the airport?”
Childe leans in, a smile on his face. “How about instead of the airport, we go home?”
The word ‘home’ catches your attention and dread settles in. If he’s implying what you think he is, then you don’t think you’ll be able to catch your flight, let alone get to the airport.
“Childe,” you croon, “I think we have some misunderstandings. Before either of us does something impulsive and hurtful, let’s just talk it over.”
He just looks amused. “Oh? Talk over what? You’re the one pushing me away.”
You try again to de-escalate. “I only told you that I don’t want a relationship.”
“Liar.” Childe’s hand reaches for the edge of your seat, the skin below his collarbones and a little bit of his chest visible as he leans in closer. “We’ve already had this discussion before. Since you’re cute and obviously not in very good mental shape at the moment, I’ll give you a little bit of advice. Let me do my thing. I’m not going to hurt you, just… change your scenery a little.”
You narrow your eyes at him upon saying the word ‘scenery’. Though consternation eats you up on the inside, you trust that Childe wouldn’t do anything to you, at least not physically. What he is currently planning to do is a different matter.
Patience, you remind yourself. That might just be the only thing you have left.
“Now that that’s settled,” he says, going back to the steering wheel, “why don’t I take you home? I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s more comfortable and spacious than where you were living.”
In the most calm and even voice you could muster, you try pleading with him again. “Childe, please. Don’t do something that would make me hate you.”
He doesn’t even look at you when he answers. The lack of smile and his eyes fixed on the road as he continues driving does not help ease your increasing dread. “It might be a small bump, but the end destination is what matters in this case, not the journey.”
You glance to the door handle in an act of desperation but bite your lip when all hope is lost at the sight of the lock. Month old words hit you like a truck, patience being some elaborate scheme for the notorious members of society to make others more docile and submissive to them. After all this time, would it be wise to believe you’ll be alright?
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loudstan · 4 months
Text
How to (not) Write a Book
Summary: For Taeyong, asking his mate out was easy. The hard part was not fucking her brains out every time he saw her.
Pairing: Werewolf! Taeyong x Female reader
Warnings: uh...smut as usual. Y/N is horny, bubu snaps at some point and...yeah she fucks around and finds out I guess. Also I made him cry, sorry
 You wanted inspiration and you had found it alright. This town had everything you could need to write your next book: witches, vampires, werewolves and you had even heard you could stumble upon a few faes if you went deep into the forest, which was amazing because faes were becoming a popular topic in literature and your editor was pushing you to write about them.  
The cheap motel where you were staying(which was probably haunted), the lively streets, and even the coffee shop you had just found were out of this world; the cozy interior was illuminated by candles and plates filled with cake magically floated towards their designated table while the baristas prepared beverages that smelled heavenly. 
Too mesmerized by what was happening around you made your way to the counter without looking where you were going and accidentally bumped into a customer who was picking up his order.
“Sorry!” you quickly said. “My bad, I wasn’t paying atten–”
The customer turned around and gasped loudly, dropping his coffee. 
Ok? That was either a very delayed reaction, or you looked ugly enough to scare the poor guy as soon as he saw you. You didn’t want to cause trouble in a foreign land, so you quickly grabbed some tissues from the counter and tried your best to clean the stains of coffee on his clothes.
“I’m really sorry. I’ll buy you a new one,” you insisted, panicking at his lack of reaction. He was just standing there, frozen like a statue.
You finally looked at his face and it was now your turn to gasp.
He was the most alluring person you had ever seen. Was he a fae? A vampire? He had to be a creature who used his beauty to attract his prey, otherwise, it would make no sense that he looked like that. 
“You’re beautiful,” you blurted out and regretted it immediately. Who says that to a stranger?
The man’s eyes sparkled, and his cheeks turned pink as his mouth morphed into a grin. The sight of his pointed teeth heightened his charming face, which you could only describe as unfairly perfectly symmetrical. The universe really had its favorites. 
He didn’t only have natural beauty; his hair was also perfectly styled to match an attire, clearly tailored to his body, and his perfume overpowering the aroma of coffee smelled expensive.
You cleared your throat before trying to communicate once again. “Uh, sorry about that. Are you okay?”
 He licked his lips and his reddened eyes scanned your entire frame, but his only reply was what sounded like a satisfied hum. It was a simple sound, but it did something to you.
It sent shivers down your spine and your heart beat at an erratic pace. Your face felt hot and your body weakened, your legs trembled, and suddenly the room was spinning around you.
But the man’s arms held you in place before you fell flat on the floor and then he pressed your body against his with urgency. 
 His warmth added to the mixture of strange sensations, but even if your body wasn’t functioning properly, your brain was on high alert: if this man had caused you to react like this against your will, then he surely wasn’t human.
You let out a silent cry when his lips caressed your neck. 
Oh no. A vampire. Just your luck. You were going to die.
“I found you,” he murmured against your skin. His voice was way too raspy and deep for such a delicate face like his, and it made you tremble from head to toes. 
Your heart was beating so fast and hard you could hear it. You would probably have a heart attack before he killed you. You whimpered in fear, but a small part of you liked his warmth surrounding you. Why were you suddenly feeling…good? Now you had no doubt he was a vampire, playing with his food by making you feel pleasure before devouring you. 
“Why do you smell distressed?” He purred, sounding a little wounded, and then you felt teeth against your pulse. 
This was it. You couldn’t believe your life would end like this.
You sobbed quietly and closed your eyes, preparing for what was coming, but suddenly you were on the floor, away from the man’s hold. 
You blinked twice and slowly started becoming aware of what was happening around you; the customers and staff were screaming and backing away from the commotion, the beautiful man you had assumed was a vampire was on the floor too, in the opposite corner of the cafe.  Between you and him there was another young man, who the vampire was glaring at furiously.
“What the fuck, Mark?” he hissed.
Mark gulped. His pale face and tense posture showed he was terrified, but he didn’t back down. “Taeyong hyung, you need to calm down.”
“Move,” Taeyong growled.
“I really don’t think this is the right–Oh my god,” he whined when the older bore his teeth and stood up.
 Taeyong tried to walk towards you, but Mark blocked the way.
“Are you challenging your alpha?” Taeyong gnarled.
Mark shook his head but when Taeyong tried to push him out of the way, he locked his arms around the leader solidly and they both fell on the floor, wrestling as their roars made the store’s windows shake and people ran away in terror. 
You tried to get up too, but your legs wouldn’t respond and you could only watch in fear at the animalistic display of power in front of you. 
Soon Mark was forced into submission by Taeyong, but he still made weak attempts to stop him from reaching for you.
In that moment you heard hurried steps and three more men jumped on top of Taeyong, who was furious at their insolence. 
A black haired man checked on Mark, before turning to the source of the riot.
“Taeyong, stop!’
“You don’t tell me what to do, Doyoung,” Taeyong snarled, trying to free himself from his captors. “Get off me!” he growled, jabbing and kicking at them.
“Don’t do this, Taeyong. Not like this,” Doyoung begged, holding Taeyong’s face in his hands. “You’re scaring her.”
Something clicked in Taeyong he stopped struggling. He looked around and saw that the coffee shop had been destroyed, some people were hiding under the tables, and Mark’s lower lip was bleeding. Finally, his eyes landed on your terrified ones and he was consumed by shame and guilt.
“I–” he wanted to apologize, but his body was overwhelmed and before he could say another word, he fell unconscious in his friends’ arms.
The group of men holding him let out a synchronized sigh.  
“That was horrifying,” Mark was the first one to speak, sitting on a chair nearby and wincing in pain.
“Jungwoo, please take Mark to a healer,” Doyoung requested. “Johnny, Jaehyun! Help me take Taeyong home.”
“Sure, I think I could use a visit to the healer myself,” Jungwoo said, limping slightly while walking out with Mark. 
“I had never seen him this…feral,” Jaehyun said.
“He does get a bit too brutal during his rut, but this was…,” Johnny trailed off, not sure of how to finish that sentence. “If Mark hadn’t been here, that girl…”
“The girl!” Doyoung quickly turned around to check on you but you were nowhere to be found. “I guess she ran away…”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t?” Jaehyun asked rethorically, as they all carried their leader to the car. 
“I doubt she’ll want to see Taeyong after this,” Johnny said.
“She’ll understand once we explain it to her,” Doyoung assured them.
“If we manage to find her again,” Jaehyun murmured.
You had been holding your breath until you heard them leave, hiding behind the abandoned counter. 
“Thank god it’s over!” a relieved voice exclaimed next to you, making you jump and yelp. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not dangerous! I was hiding here too! This is my coffee shop,” the man quickly explained. “My name is Taeil.”
“Oh– I’m Y/N…” you mumbled. “Sorry for the mess…”
“It’s not your fault, don’t worry. I’ll have a word with the pups later.”
“Pups?”
“Werewolves,” he said, grabbing a couple of cups from the shelf.
“Oh…OH! They said something about an alpha,” you remembered, trying to make sense of the whole situation. “So he wasn’t a vampire after all. He must have been close to his rut.”
“Yeah…you could say that,” the man partially agreed, offering you a cup of coffee. “On the house. This is embarrassing to admit but I’m a member of the pack who caused all this...”
“You’re a werewolf too?” you asked incredulously and let him guide you to a table that hadn’t been destroyed. “Then why were you hiding?”
“It was scary,” he shrugged and sat down across the table.
You let out an incredulous laugh and took a sip of your coffee. This guy was being serious but somehow he made everything sound hilarious. 
“Something’s different about you,” he suddenly said, observing you carefully. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“I’m not,” you replied. “I’m here for business. I’m writing a book about some creatures that live here.”
“You’re a writer?”
“Something like that, yes,” you admitted, taking a sip of your coffee. “That’s why I came. I’m hoping to rent a place near the forest to observe the faes.”
“Faes?” Taeil’s lips turned downwards. “Those are a bit too dangerous, don’t you think?”
“I’ll be careful.”
“There are so many other creatures to write about,”  he insisted.
“I’m really interested in faes,” you said. “And there isn’t quite enough literature about them, so I thought I should talk to them in person to understand them better.”
“Talk to them?” he repeated incredulously. “You definitely shouldn’t do that…”
“I heard I can find some in the East Forest,” you pressed, ignoring his apprehension. “Is that true?”
“...It is,” he conceded. “But there aren’t any places to rent in there,” he quickly added.
“I’ll just camp in the woods,” you shrugged.
The man choked on his coffee and coughed loudly. “CAMP?” 
“Just until I finish my book.”
“Oh my god,” he shook his head. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” you replied without hesitation and finished your drink, ready to leave. “Thanks for the coffee, Taeil!”
“I HAVE A HOUSE FOR RENT! ” He blurted out in panic when he saw you standing up.
You raised your eyebrows. “You said there was no place available near the forest.”
“Technically, there isn’t…,” he sighed, brushing his hair with his fingers. “They don’t build homes near the forest because of the faes… but I own a little hut, not too deep into the woods, which I was using to store some stuff…”
“For real?” you asked excitedly. 
He nodded, taking out his phone and showing you some pictures of the place. It was a small, lovely, wooden hut surrounded by trees. 
“It’s not furnished, but I could get it ready for you in about a week,” the kind werewolf offered because he clearly didn’t want you to camp in the forest. “But you would have to promise me to stay inside the house at night.”
“Why?”
“Faes become… restless when the sun goes down. If you really need to talk to one of them, do it during the day.” 
You nodded and took mental note of an interesting new fact about faes. Then you asked a few more questions about the house, which he replied to, along with giving you some extra safety tips before offering you to rent the place for an incredibly low price. 
“Thank you so much!” you exclaimed happily, forgetting about what had happened earlier with the Taeyong, thrilled at the idea of moving to such a nice place, for cheap and meeting some of your favorite magical creatures. 
“No problem,” he said, handing you back your phone where he had added his contact information for you two to seal the deal later. “No one’s staying there at the moment, so it’s not an issue,” he added, walking you to the door and bidding you goodbye.
You thanked him again and happily walked back to the motel you were currently staying in. 
“Where were you?!” Johnny asked Taeil when he arrived home. “It’s your own cafe. How did you just disappear?”
“I was hiding behind the counter,” Taeil admitted shamelessly.
“Wow, thanks a lot, hyung” Mark said sarcastically from the sofa, holding a cold pack against his cheek.
“I’m not strong. I would have been useless anyway,” Taeil said. “I found Taeyong’s mate, by the way. Her name’s Y/N.”
“ Is she okay?” Doyoung asked, entering the living room. 
“She’s fine, it looks like she forgot about the whole incident already.”
“Do you know where to find her?” Jungwoo asked.
“Yes, well…about that…I need some help casting a protection spell on my old hut in the woods… because she’ll be living there,” Taeil trailed off as he headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bunch of herbs and salt. 
“WHAT?!” Doyoung hissed, following Taeil to the kitchen. “That area is infested with faes!”
“She has a thing for faes,” Taeil replied. “She was going to camp in the woods just to study them and write about it in her book.”
“Ah, so she’s a lunatic,” Jungwoo said.
“She’ll go to the forest no matter what, so I offered that hut because then we can at least know where she is and protect the place.”
“That’s actually smart,” Doyoung conceded and started looking for some herbs to help with the spell.
“We need to buy a bed and some other stuff because that house is empty right now,” Taeil added.
“Alright, to IKEA we go,” Jaehyun sighed and stood up. 
“I’ll go with you!” Jungwoo yelled happily.
“No,” Jaehyun groaned. “It takes you forever to choose what to buy.”
“And you have terrible taste in furniture,” Jungwoo replied. “Always buying the cheapest shit.”
“The bed can’t be cheap,” Johnny said. “Remember Taeyong can potentially spend his rut there. And you guys know how he gets.”
As if on cue, they heard a loud crash followed by the squeaking noise of the bed dragging back and forth on the floor mixed with guttural moans coming from the second floor.
“Looks like he’s awake…,” Mark mumbled, getting pale again, thinking that his leader would have his head after what happened at the coffee shop.
“Don’t worry. I secured his room with a spell,” Doyoung quickly assured him. “You’re safe.”
“I don’t know, I think I kinda wanna go to IKEA,” Mark said nervously.
“The more the merrier,” Jungwoo encouraged enthusiastically. 
The next few days were torture for Taeyong. He had a fever, his body ached and his erection wouldn’t disappear no matter how many times he came. He knew the reason: his wolf wouldn’t be satisfied until he claimed his mate. But his pack had put a spell around his room, making it impossible for him to leave, which made sense, because those were the instructions he had given them a long time ago in case he met his mate and couldn’t control himself. His pack had left enough snacks and drinks for him to survive for as long as his rut lasted, and he thankfully had his own private bathroom inside his room, but what he needed was his mate.
“Doyoung,” Taeyong approached the door and called for his friend. “Doyoung, open the door. I need out.”
No answer came from the other side of the door, but Taeyong wouldn’t give up. “I know you’re there. Just let me out. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“…I can’t do that,” Doyoung finally replied, and then he jumped when Taeyong banged on the door loudly.
“OPEN THE DOOR!” The leader yelled, before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Please. It hurts,” he pleaded.
“Taeyong…”
“I’ll be gentle,” Taeyong bargained. “I won’t hurt her. I just need to see her, please…”
“I know you don’t want to hurt her,” Doyoung agreed. “But this isn’t you.”
“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke through gritted teeth. “Your alpha commands it.”
Doyoung inhaled sharply. Taeyong was using his alpha voice, which made his wolf ache to comply, but he knew if he let him out now, the leader would do something he would regret.
“My best friend is more important than my alpha. I won’t let you fuck this up for yourself. Get back to your senses and then you can see her,” he replied stoically. “Her name is Y/N, by the way,” he added before walking away.
“Y/N…” Taeyong sighed, leaning his head on the cool material of the door. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember your scent and the way you trembled in his arms like a scared bunny. Cute. His wolf loved it. “Oh…” he breathed out, pressing his lower body against the door, slowly humping the barrier that kept him from finding you. This would have to do until he caught you and had you shaking again.
 After a long night of sweating and cumming, he finally reached for one of the many bottles of water they had prepared for him. Three days later he gained enough clarity to eat something. Five days later his member would remain soft for a few hours a day, which allowed him to take a proper break. After a week he had successfully survived what he was sure was the worst rut of his life. He got up slowly, dizzy and sweaty, and took a look at his room: it was in ruins, with clothes and personal belongings scattered on the floor. His bed was disgusting, the bedsheets were sticky and wrinkled, his pillow had been torn apart, and its filling was everywhere. The door was marked with scratches that looked too deep and big to be human, which had to mean he had transformed at some point. If it hadn’t been for the spell, he would have easily broken the door and escaped. 
Taeyong started picking everything up and cleaning the place. Then he jumped into the shower and allowed the hot water to relieve his aching muscles and clear his mind. Slowly, memories of the scene he caused in the coffee shop popped up and he cringed. He had to apologize to so many people now. 
He got dressed in comfy clothes, dried his hair, and attempted to open the damaged door. This time he was able to get out easily, which meant that the spell was meant to last as long as he was in rut. 
Then he took a deep breath in and walked down the stairs, trying not to make too much noise. He heard his pack members laughing loudly over the sound of the TV, which meant it was movie night. It was a good thing that they were together, so he could properly apologize in front of everyone, but his anxiety grew and his eyes started watering as he got closer to his destination.
 He had made a scene and attacked his own pack. What type of leader loses control like that? He was so ashamed he turned back, ready to hide in his room again.
“Taeyong,” Doyoung’s calm voice called for him. Of course Doyoung would notice him before he had the chance to run away.
Taeyong whimpered and looked back, to where his pack was making space for him to sit. They had paused the movie and were looking at him, patiently waiting for him to join in. He bit his lip nervously and sat down. His eyes landed on Mark; he looked fine, but there was still a small bruise on his face as evidence of what he had done to him. Mark caught him staring and offered him a reassuring smile. Tears finally rolled down Taeyong’s cheeks.
“Mark, I–,” the leader sobbed and hid his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hyung, I’m fine,” Mark said softly. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
“You did him a favor,” Haechan added. “I think you fixed his nose.”
Taeyong snorted mid-sob at the unexpected joke and wiped his tears with the back of his hand, letting out a soft giggle.
“Everyone’s fine,” Jaehyun said, patting his leader’s back comfortingly. 
“Still, I should have controlled myself,” Taeyong mumbled.
“Pff…if you hadn’t controlled yourself, Mark wouldn’t be here,” Johnny said.
Mark laughed nervously. 
“And the place you destroyed was Taeil hyung’s shop, so no one cares,” Jungwoo said.
“Fuck you, guys,” Taeil said but he was laughing too. “No more free coffee for you.”
There was a pause when the laughter ended and Taeyong looked at Doyoung.
“I shouldn’t have talked to you like that,” he admitted apologetically.
“Oh, that? Your alpha voice isn’t as powerful as you think,” Doyoung shrugged smugly. “I think I’m the real leader of this pack.”
“Didn’t you have a panic attack right after you disobeyed him—“ Yuta tried to ask, but he was quickly interrupted.
“That’s not important now,” Ten interrupted, sitting closer to his leader. “You found your mate!”
Everyone cheered, making Taeyong blush and chuckle. He was overjoyed to finally meet the one he had been waiting for for so long…but then his anxiety came back.
“I don’t think I’m ready though,” he whispered.
“You are,” Doyoung rebutted.
“I almost bit her…”
“She’s fine,” Taeil said. 
 “You’ve helped many of us get together with our mate,” Jaemin agreed. “No one has prepared for this moment more than you.”
“But I didn’t know it would feel like this,” Taeyong said.
“Like what?” Kun asked.
“Like…like I’m some type of animal,” Taeyong groaned. “The things I wanna do to her I just–I feel like I’ll go crazy if I don’t—,” he paused and blushed. “...You know…”
“Oh, that’s normal,” Jeno assured him, laughing. 
“It is?” Taeyong asked, surprised. 
“Yeah!” Jeno insisted. “All of us who are mated have gone through that.”
“So it gets better later, right?” the leader asked hopefully.
“No,” a choir of voices replied. 
“But the bond works both ways,” Yuta added. “Soon she’ll be wanting you just as much as you want her.”
Taeyong’s face was hot. He wanted that. He wanted everything with you. “First I have to apologize to her.”
“Good thing we know where to find her,” Doyoung smiled.
Your new temporary home was more than you could ever wish for. It had a perfectly functioning bathroom and a kitchen. It was also fully furnished and excessively decorated in a way that made you think many people had been involved in the process because nothing matched. Your favorite thing was the little window in the kitchen which offered you a beautiful view of the forest while doing the dishes. You often opened the window to feel the breeze, smell the fresh grass and listen to the birds singing, and even if it was getting darker you could catch a glimpse of the stream and— were those eyes?!
You gasped and whoever was hiding far behind the bushes ducked down. They would have been successful if it wasn’t because of their pointy ears peeking out. 
You gasped again, this time out of excitement, and rushed out to meet your visitor. They had to be a fae!
Once you stepped out of the house, and stood near the entrance, waving at the creature, who was still hiding shyly behind the bushes.
“Hi,” you greeted them softly. “It’s okay! I won’t hurt you.”
The fae shifted enough for you to see their beautiful features, they seemed to be a male, with silky dark hair and pale skin. He looked at your house and tilted his head.
“I live here,” you continued talking, pointing at the wooden hut. “Do you live in the forest?” 
He gave you a short nod without taking his eyes off of you. Despite his lethargic expression, he seemed curious.
“My name’s Y/N,” you introduced yourself. You had this habit of talking non-stop when you were excited or nervous. “What’s your name?”
The fae’s plump lips twisted into a little smile. “Soobin.”
“Nice to meet you, Soobin! I guess we’re neighbors,” you smiled at him.
 “Sweet,” he whispered.
“Hm?” you asked.
“Smells sweet,” he said this time loud enough to hear, and he stood up, revealing he was way taller than what you expected. He was dressed in a pair of loose pants and a crochet open shirt that didn’t quite cover his lean torso and eclectic necklaces and pendants adorned his neck.
“Oh, that’s probably the pie I baked,” you replied. “Do you want some?”
The man licked his lips and took a step toward you, but then he tensed and glared at a spot on the ground in front of him. “I cannot get closer,” he muttered. 
You stared at the ground too, looking for whatever he was looking at, but you couldn’t see anything. Maybe he just didn’t trust you enough to get closer. 
“Let me bring you a piece, then,” you offered, running back into the kitchen and placing a big piece of fresh pie on a plate. Then you went out to see him waiting for you in the same spot, still glaring at the ground.
You tried to keep your distance while offering him the plate, not wanting to scare him. 
“Closer,” he whispered.
You took a step towards him, but contradictorily he took a step back.
“...May I come closer?” you asked confusedly. 
He nodded and looked at your feet.
You took a hesitant step towards him and he took another step back. It made no sense, but he was smiling now, so you guessed this was what he wanted. 
“Is this okay?” you asked, taking another step.
“Yes,” he chuckled, taking another step back. It seemed to be some type of game for faes. Whatever it was, he looked like he was having fun.
You couldn’t help but laugh too as you took another step, even without understanding the nature of the game. “Closer?”
“Closer,” he agreed. 
You took another step, but he didn’t step back this time. He moved his hands towards you and instead of picking the plate, he grabbed your arms.
 At that moment a growl echoed in the before peaceful forest, catching you by surprise. Soobin looked as confused as you, with his widened eyes scanning the already dark trees around you. He then turned around slightly, while still holding you and you saw it: a big grey wolf lurking behind Soobin, bearing his teeth threateningly. 
“Alpha,” Soobin acknowledged the wolf with a nod.
The animal’s red eyes glared at the fae, trying to communicate something that you couldn’t catch. But Soobin seemed to understand the message.
 “It is past dusk,” the fae said in a defensive tone, never letting go of you. “It is allowed.”
The wolf let out an aggressive snarl, and even you understood that they did not like whatever Soobin was implying.
The fae sighed and he hesitantly let go of your arms. “I do not wish to fight you, alpha. But let it be the last time. Rules are rules.”
“What’s going on?” you asked Soobin, still frozen in your place. 
“Alpha is not happy to see me,” the fae replied simply and took the plate from your hands. “Thank you for the pie,” he added, looking between you to the wolf one last time and walking away with a smile. 
“C-come back anytime!” you offered as you saw him leave. That was not how you expected your first encounter with a fae to go. He seemed to be sweet and willing to be your friend. You had so much you wanted to ask, but then this wolf had to scare him away. Soobin had called him alpha and you knew there was only one pack of werewolves in town. You had met the pack’s alpha before…
“Taeyong,” you turned to look at the wolf angrily. 
The wolf’s ears lowered and he winced. You knew it was him?
“Shift and come in. We need to talk,” you said before stomping back into the house, leaving the door open behind you.
A minute after the man you had met at the coffee shop a week ago and who had almost given you a heart attack stood at your door, fixing his clothes nervously. 
Your breath caught in your throat when you saw his human form. You remembered him being good-looking, but his beauty was surreal. You had to remind yourself you were mad at him.
“Get in and close the door already” you commanded. “It’s getting cold.”
The man hesitated momentarily before finally stepping inside the house and closing the door behind him, but he stayed as far away from you as possible. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
God, why was he so cute?
“You should be,” you replied, setting a couple of plates on the table
“I lost control. I know it’s not an excuse, but–”
“Damn right it isn’t, you scared poor Soobin!”
“I–What?” he asked.
“He was opening up and now I don’t know if he’ll ever come back!” you replied, letting out a frustrated sigh as you searched for cups in the cabinet.
“...That’s what’s bothering you?” he asked.
“Yes! I need to interview a fae!”
“...You were trying to interview him,” he repeated slowly. 
“That’s right, and you interrupted us just when he allowed me to get closer,” you groaned, sitting in one of the chairs and pouring some tea into your cup. “Take a seat,” you told Taeyong. 
You may be mad, but you were still a good host. Taeyong was family to Taeil, and Taeil had been good to you, so you would be good to Taeyong and at least feed him while telling him off.
He bit his lip and sat down on the chair across from you. “I think you got it wrong. He didn’t allow you to get closer, he took you out of the protection circle on purpose.”
“The what?” you asked, biting on a piece of pie.
“The protection circle around this house,” he said as if it was obvious. “Can’t you feel it?”
You swallowed the pastry and looked around, trying to see if there was anything off with the house besides the odd decoration. “Feel what?”
Taeyong tilted his head. Anyone with a tiny bit of magic in their body would be able to notice the house was under a spell. 
Oh…
“You’re not a witch…” he gasped. Taeil said he had sensed something different about your aura but that he wasn’t sure what it was. This had to be it.
“I’m not,” you agreed. 
The color drained from Taeyong’s face. 
“Then what are you doing here?! It’s dangerous!” he whisper-shouted, looking around like he was afraid anyone would hear. 
“I’m writing a book,” you replied.
“About faes?!” he asked. “No, no, no, please. Do you even know what faes do to humans?!”
“...No,” you admitted. “Do you?”
“No! No one knows! They take them away. Make them disappear. That’s why this area is not accessible for tourists and even magic users stay away after sunset!” Taeyong let out a frustrated groan and placed one of his palms on his chest, trying to calm his beating heart. “Didn’t Taeil tell you to go out only during daylight?”
“He did,” you remembered. “But I thought he was overreacting.”
Taeyong could cry because of how stressed he was. Not only did his mate turn out to be human, but she was also clueless and living in an enchanted forest like it was nothing.
He took a deep breath in and tried his best to explain everything calmly. “Faes have been here for centuries, so this land belongs to them. We have no power to tell them what to do, but they at least agreed to make a deal with us and not hunt during the day.”
“...Soobin was…hunting?” you asked after a few seconds of silence. 
Taeyong nodded.
“He was going to take me away…” you whispered, staring blankly at your plate. You weren’t that hungry anymore. How could someone who looked so sweet and innocent be hunting humans? 
“Yes,” the Werewolf grunted. He hated how easily you had followed Soobin out of the protection circle. He hated the way he had touched your arm. He hated thinking about the possibility of you being gone who knows where. You were too careless for a fragile human. 
You both sat there without saying a word until you cleared your throat awkwardly. “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” he replied softly. “But please don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” you replied. “Sorry…”
“I should be the one to apologize. That’s why I came here today,” he murmured. “The way I behaved at the coffee shop was not okay.”
“...Oh!” you exclaimed, remembering the event. “Well, that was an accident, right?”
“Uh…yes…” he said, sipping on his cup of tea.
“I guess your ruts are irregular,” you hummed.
“My r–,” he blushed and choked. You had thought about him in rut? 
“Do you take suppressants?” you asked casually, not noticing that he was mortified.
“Y-yes.”
“Hmm… That’s odd,” you commented. “Then you shouldn’t have entered your rut so fast and out of nowhere. Did someone trigger it?”
He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes were wide and glossy, as he stared at you in silence. He tried to think of something to say, but he didn’t want to lie to you nor did he want to scare you. 
You had studied supernatural creatures before, so you were able to put two and two together. 
“...It was me, huh?” you asked.
Oh, well. He was fucked. 
“H-how did you know?” he asked in the smallest voice you had heard, looking away.
You hummed.
“You went straight for my neck, so at first I thought you were a vampire, but you turned out to be a werewolf. I can only think of one reason why you would want to bite my neck.”
Taeyong gulped. He was shaking with anxiety. You probably found him disgusting.
“I’m s-sorry…” he whimpered with difficulty because of the way his breathing had quickened.
“Hey, calm down. Breathe,” you instructed.
“I’ve w-waited for so long I…I didn’t mean to– I just couldn’t-...” 
“Taeyong,” you called his name firmly and held his trembling hands in yours, making him gasp. “It’s not your fault. You can’t control it.”
He was still too terrified to look into your eyes. “I don’t w-want to force you–”
“I know,” you assured him.
“I just w-wanted to get to know you…”
“We can do that,” you conceded.
“...Really?” he finally looked up and his eyes lightened up with hope.
“Really,” you replied. “It’s the least I can do for someone who saved me from being abducted by faes,” you joked, but he didn’t find it funny.
“That’s not why I did it! You don’t owe me anything–”
“I know,” you chuckled. “That’s not the only reason. I also think you’re cute.”
You had broken him. His face was as red as the cherries that adorned the forgotten pie and he was struggling to hold back a shy smile. He sighed, relieved, and now it was his turn to hold your hands in his, bringing them to his chest.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sighed. “I’ll do it right, I’ll treat you well, I’ll court you the way you deserve.”
You giggled. “Court me? How about you give me your number first?”
And that’s how you started dating the kindest man you had ever met. He was a walking green flag, gentle, respectful, and patient… Sometimes too patient. 
He insisted on taking things slow, and it took him almost two months of courting before he agreed to officially call himself your boyfriend, because, according to him, he hadn’t earned it yet. 
You didn’t want to be ungrateful but there were times when his chivalry frustrated you. Yes, he treated you like a queen, took care of you, and listened to you but sometimes you wished he actually kissed you instead of quickly pecking your lips and pulling away. 
You enjoyed his company as it was, but you couldn’t deny the burning desire that consumed you whenever he was near you. 
“Taeyong,” you called his name after you finished cleaning up the table. 
“Yeah?” he replied absentmindedly while washing the dishes.
“Can we make out?” you asked straight to the point.
He almost dropped the plate he was holding. His whole body tensed and he continued staring at the running water. He didn’t ask you to repeat yourself. He had heard you perfectly.
“Is that a no?” you asked, taking a few steps closer.
Taeyong closed the water tap and turned around to face you, leaning against the sink.
“Of course, we can, my love,” he said, offering you a smile that somehow seemed a little forced. 
Before he had the chance to take it back you pressed your lips against his. He kissed you back softly, but as usual, he pulled away quickly. 
“That’s not making out,” you pouted.
“Let’s take things slow,Y/N,” Taeyong said, ready to resume his domestic task, but you were tired and frustrated, so you grabbed him by the nape and kissed him hard. 
He gasped in surprise but he had been controlling himself for too long, and his wolf was not going to waste this chance. He gave you an open-mouthed kiss that felt too urgent for someone who wanted to take things slow, and when you sucked on his tongue he moaned loudly, finally daring to use his hands on you. 
His still-wet fingers tangled in your hair and angled your head for his lips to fit yours perfectly, allowing his tongue to play with yours quite aggressively. 
A shiver ran down your spine when he switched positions to have you pressed against the sink, and you let your hands travel down his torso.
That’s when he detached himself from you abruptly. 
“Was that better?” he asked as evenly as he could with his chest rising and falling erratically.
“Yeah…” you breathed out.
He nodded.“Go rest, love.I’ll finish cleaning.”
For him, that had been the closest he had been to losing his sanity. He had to lock himself up as soon as he got back home due to another unscheduled rut–which was happening more frequently the closer he got to you– and he couldn’t stop thinking about how good you tasted and how easily he could manhandle your fragile body. 
He  had opened Pandora’s box. Now he couldn’t stop himself from kissing you every chance he got. 
‘Just a kiss,’ he kept telling himself. ‘I will stop before it gets serious.’
But God, was it hard when he had you all pretty on his lap, with your breasts pressed against his pecs and driving him crazy.
“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips. 
“Hm?” you murmured, kissing his jaw and neck slowly.
He tilted his head back and rested it on the sofa when your lips brushed a spot where you could feel his strong pulse. 
“Oh… Y-Y/N,” It was like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite remember what. Especially when you rolled your hips against his like that. So he just whined. 
“What is it, baby?” you asked, dropping more of your weight on his lap. 
His breath hitched and his eyes snapped open in your direction, a reddish tone replacing his usual eye color. His fingers dug into your hips as he pressed you against him harder, humming when he heard you moan faintly.
His lips chased yours and he wasted no time in sliding his tongue into your mouth. He kissed you fiercely and let out breathy moans while guiding your hips against his crotch insistently.
“Tae–...b-baby that feels…” you manage to breathe out as your hips shake in his hands.
“G-good?” he asked in the softest voice despite his lusty eyes and his hips thrusting against your core harshly. 
“So good, baby,” you gasped. “Can you g-give me more?”
“Anything,” he breathed out, eyes dazed, allowing his hands to travel your body. “Everything…”
“Good boy,” you praised him lovingly, reaching for the hem of his pants to free his painful erection.
“Mm…Ah,” he moaned softly as you palmed him over his boxers. When your thumb pressed against the head he let out an audible gasp. 
“Y/N, w-we have to stop,” he panted urgently, but his body said something different; one of his hands kept yours firmly pressed against his cock, while the other slid under your shirt, looking for your breasts. “Gotta…gotta s-stop…”
“Do you w-want to stop?” you asked him, whimpering when his fingers found one of your nipples, while his other hand guided yours up and down his cock.
He shook his head.
“Then why do we…ah! Why do we h-have to stop, b-baby?”
He stared at your lips dumbfounded, still moving your hand up and down, harder, faster. There was a reason why he had to stop. He had to. But why? He just couldn’t remember…
“I don’t know…,” he admitted.
 The hand that was caressing your breasts, slid down your stomach, drawing gentle patterns until it slid past the hem of your shorts. Your hips jumped slightly  and he breathed shakily when his fingers slid into your panties, immediately getting then soaked.
“B-baby…,” you breathed out when he slowly took his digits out and brought them to his mouth. 
He opened wide, sticking his tongue out , and then sucked on his fingers lewdly. 
Suddenly, his head rolled back, his back arched, and his body convulsed. He moaned around his fingers and a big wet patch formed on his boxers, right where he was holding your hand so desperately. 
You gasped at the sight of him cumming just because of your taste. “Oh my god…,” you murmured, pressing the palm of your hand against him harder and feeling his cock squirt another generous amount of cum while he trembled under you.
Once you thought it may be too much for him, you released his member and his body relaxed on the sofa. His mouth finally let go of his fingers, leaving behind a trail of saliva. He was panting and his wide eyes were fixed on the ceiling, trying to comprehend the pleasure he had felt. 
“Taeyong?” you called his name gently.
 It was like the sound of your voice brought him back to reality. Or maybe it drove him further into madness because he hugged your waist and pressed your crotches together urgently.
“Y-you too…” he begged, before kissing you messily, making an uncoordinated attempt to dry hump you.
You kissed him back, slowly moving against his still-hard member, but the pace didn’t quite satisfy him. He grabbed your hips harshly and moved your body insistently back and forth.
“Ah, right t-there,” you encouraged him, letting him set the pace. 
He hissed. The chaff of your clothed clit on his sensitive tip was pleasurably painful and your moans mixed with your aroused scent had him forgetting about all the possible downsides of letting his wolf loose. It felt too good.
“I’m cumming,” you gasped, shaking on his lap. “B-baby— Oooh!”
“Yeah…” he moaned, pulling you into a suffocating hug and giving your neck wet, sloppy kisses. 
You opened your eyes slowly, feeling weak and dizzy, but incredibly happy. You had wanted to feel Taeyong close to you since you had started dating and now it was finally happening. You sighed and looked down at your boyfriend who was still clinging to you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Then you felt liquid dripping down your chest.
“Tae—,” you laughed, thinking it was saliva and whipping it off with your hand but your smile dropped when you saw your fingers tainted red. “What…”
Did he bite you? You hadn’t felt anything at all. You could hear him panting, but you were sure his fangs were not on your skin. 
You quickly pushed him off you, pressing his back on the sofa and taking a look at him. He was pale, covered in sweat, displaying a lost expression and his mouth and chin were stained with fresh blood. 
Your hand flew to your neck, finding more of the red liquid, but the smooth texture of your skin proved you hadn’t been bitten. 
That blood wasn’t yours.
What he had bitten was his own hand.
The same he had earlier used to touch your folds and taste you was now covered in blood, displaying an injury in the shape of a crescent moon.
“Taeyong!” You screamed, forgetting all about the pleasure you had just felt and running to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.
When you came back and started examining his wound he seemed more conscious.
“How did this happen?!” You asked him, carefully disinfecting the bite.
His beautiful eyes looked at you with sadness but no words came from his lips.
“Why did you do that?” you continued rambling on until you heard a quiet sob. “Taeyong?”
He looked away, but you had already seen the tears sliding down his cheeks.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” You asked gently, cupping his face on your palms and trying to make eye contact.
He placed his hands on top of yours gently, still weeping bitterly.
“Does it hurt that bad? Should we go to a healer?” You insisted, your worries increasing every second.
He let out a broken sob.
Broken-hearted you tried to hug him but he quickly stood up. “I have to go. I’ll c-call you later, okay?” 
“What? Taeyong, wait–” 
“I’ll ask Jaemin to heal me,” he said, trying to hold back his sniffles. 
“I’ll go with–”
“No, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “You’ll make it worse.”
“...I will make it worse?” you asked in a whisper.
“I–,” he let out a shaky sigh. “No, baby, I don’t mean it like that.”
You didn’t reply. What were you supposed to say after being told your presence would make your boyfriend feel worse?
His face told you he wasn’t happy with the way he had worded it either. He knew he had hurt you and he wanted nothing more but to comfort you, hug you, and kiss you stupid, but he needed to get away from you before his wolf took over.
“You did nothing wrong, my love,” he assured you. His words were gentle, but his body language was so distant. “I just need to be alone, right now, okay?”
You nodded. What else could you do?
And then you were left alone.
“You’re back already–Holy shit, hyung, are you okay?!” Xiaojun jumped out of the couch where he had been hanging out with Hendery when he saw his leader. 
“Fine,” Taeyong mumbled. 
“You’re bleeding!” Hendery yelled. 
“I just need–”
“TEN HYUNG!” Xiaojun screamed.
Ten came down the stairs running and gasped when he saw Taeyong’s hand covered in blood. “What happened to you?!”
“I need you to lock me up,” Taeyong mumbled tiredly.
“You need medical attention,” Ten replied, trying to pull him back to the door to take him to the hospital.
“There’s no time,” Taeyong groaned.
“Time for what?” Ten asked, but then he noticed the way his leader’s eye color kept changing and that the skin he had touched was burning up. “Wha—AGAIN?! You just got out of rut two weeks ago!”
“Lock me up,” the oldest repeated weakly, leaning against his pack member for support.
“Fuck,” Ten hissed, gesturing for the others to help him carry him up the stairs. “There’s no way this is healthy.”
“Hmm…” was the leader’s absentminded response before losing consciousness. 
If you had known what was happening, you would have just gone to sleep instead of waiting for the call that he said would come. He didn’t call you and he wasn’t responding to your texts
After two days you decided to look for answers somewhere else and visited Taeil’s cafe.
He received you with a warm smile, as usual. But you could sense some awkwardness when he asked that many trivial questions (even talking about the weather), as if he wanted to talk about anything but Taeyong.
“I wanted to ask you something,” you finally said.
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, but he still gestured for you to go on. He knew he couldn’t avoid the topic forever.
“Have you seen Taeyong?”
“I have,” he said curtly.
“He’s not answering my calls. I didn’t think he would be the type to ghost someone, but here we are,” you laughed awkwardly.
Taeil let out a heavy sigh.
“He’s not ghosting you.”
“Yes, he is,” you said bitterly. “If he wanted to break up he could have just said so.”
“Y/N, I promise you he wants to be with you,” Taeil insisted.
“Then why is he ignoring me?”
“He’s in rut…”
“…Again?!”
He nodded. “Again.”
“This is happening way too often.”
“I know.”
“What about his suppressants?”
“They don’t work anymore.”
“There has to be something we can do!”
Taeil groaned. “We can’t force him.”
“Force him to what?”
“Just…ask him, okay?”
“When?! He’s always in rut and  disappearing!”
“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I know this must be hard for you, but trust me, it’s hard for him too. He’s trying his best to be a good boyfriend for you.”
Part of you knew he was right. Even if it felt like he was ghosting you, deep down you knew that was not Taeyong. You agreed to wait until his rut was over and he contacted you, but you felt so lonely without a single text from him.
One day you thought you heard a noise outside so you ran out of the house, thinking Taeyong had came back, but there was no one there. The only thing that was new was an empty plate a few meters from you; the plate that Soobin had taken the day you met him. 
“Soobin?” you called nervously.
 You may still be a bit wary of him, but your editor still wanted you to write that book about faes. You had been researching at the local library and asking your boyfriend questions about the mysterious creatures but you knew that talking to one directly would be better.  The sun was still shining so talking to Soobin should be safe, right?
“Good afternoon, Y/N,” the fae’s calm voice replied as he came out from behind the tree where he was hiding. 
“I’m glad you’re back,” you said, trying not to show the fear in your voice.
“Are you, really?”  he asked.
“Of course.”
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“Well, I’m a little scared,” you admitted. “But I’m still glad. I wanted to talk to you.”
“That’s interesting,” he purred, walking towards you and stopping right before the protection circle–which now was very visible to the human eye thanks to your boyfriend’s efforts– started. “I love a good conversation. What is it you want to talk about?”
“I’m a writer,” you said, sitting on the other side of the line that drew the circle. “I’m writing about faes and I was hoping to ask you some questions.”
“Ask,” he encouraged you, placing his elbows on his crossed legs and leaning forward, with his face resting on his hands. 
You gulped, deciding to go straight to the point. “Do you hunt humans?”
He smiled in a way that would have been sweet in a different setting but now was giving you chills, and not in a good way. “I do.”
“Why?”
“For different reasons. It depends on the human,” he shrugged.
“Do you…,” you shifted uncomfortably. “Do you eat them?”
He laughed out loud. It was the first time you saw him express himself so openly. “Your kind is not as nutritious as you think you are. Not with all that coffee and fat that you consume.”
You gasped, a bit offended. “Are you calling me fat?!”
He laughed harder. “Are you offended I don’t want to eat you?”
“N-no, but…”
“We did eat humans in the past. But we know better now. Eating you won’t bring me any benefit.”
You sighed in relief. “Then what were you planning to do to me? The day you took me out of the protection circle…”
He tilted his head. “I was not going to eat you…but I wanted a taste.”
“A t-taste?” you repeated.
“Mhm…You carry a very sweet smell. I was wondering if you taste like you smell.” 
You didn’t want to be dirty-minded. He probably didn’t mean it like that.
“Y-you mean in a cannibal type of way or—”
“A sexual way,” he deadpanned. 
“O-oh…” you mumbled awkwardly. “So uh…faes do s-stuff like that with other species?” 
“Not often. I haven’t fucked a human in centuries,” the way he stressed the word fuck made you blush. You knew that faes preferred to speak eloquently, but he had deliberately chosen a word used by humans.
“Isn’t it better to do those things with y-your kind?” you asked.
“You see, faes can gain vitality from emotions we elicit from others.  And, compared to faes, humans are so, so deliciously sensitive, meaning your emotions would be more intense than those I could possibly get from one of my own kind,” he said, eyeing you up. “If I feed on your pleasure I’m sure I’ll become even stronger.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Aren’t there other ways to be stronger?”
“There are,” he conceded. “But don’t you think this way is more fun for both of us?”
“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to decline,” you said firmly. “I’m seeing someone.”
He looked at you dumbfounded for a second, expecting an explanation as to why that was relevant and then his eyes widened. “Ooh…are humans still monogamous?” 
“Uh…I am,” you replied.
“How disappointing,” he sighed. “Is it alpha?”
“Yeah…” 
“Hm…Congratulations…”
“Thanks…”
“You don’t sound that excited,” he teased. 
“I’m just a little tired,” you lied. “But thanks for answering my questions today. You were very helpful,” you said, reaching for the empty plate Soobin had left on the grass, when you felt his hand grabbing your wrist firmly.
You froze.
How could he touch you when you were still inside the circle?!
Oh shit.
The plate was outside of the circle.
And now so was your hand.
“Not so fast,” he warned you. “What do I get in return for all that valuable information?”
You had been fooled by the fae once again. How could you be so careless?
“Soobin, please,” you pleaded. “I can’t give you what you want.”
“You can’t or you won’t?” he asked, tugging your wrist towards him playfully and almost making you lose your balance and exit the circle. 
“Please, there has to be something else I can give you,” you bargained desperately. 
He chuckled and finally let you go, making you fall on your butt. “Y/N, the sun hasn’t set yet. I can’t do anything to you. I was just playing.”
“That wasn’t funny!” you fumed. 
“But I would still like to propose a deal,” he said casually.
“Forget it,” you said, standing up, ready to go back inside the house. 
“Don’t you have an entire book to write about me?” he asked.
You looked at him suspiciously. 
“I can provide all the information you need,” he continued. “For a price.”
“I’m not gonna fuck you,” you snapped at him.
“As delectable as that would be, that’s not the only way you can pay me. During this conversation, I absorbed a variety of emotions coming from you. They may not be as powerful as pleasure, but they satisfy me for now.”
“You were feeding on me the entire time?!” you accused him incredulously.
He shrugged. “Isn’t it convenient? I give you what you want, and you pay me back without even noticing.”
Well, he had a point. He wasn’t even hurting you. All you had to do was your job and he would take what he needs without disturbing you.
“Deal,” you said. “Come back tomorrow at the same time. No funny business.”
He smiled and gave you a short nod before you walked into the house.
“If alpha doesn’t satisfy you, the offer still stands!” you heard him say before you slammed the door shut.
True to his word, Soobin showed up the next day and the day after that. Separated by the protection circle, you had long conversations in which he answered your questions regarding faes while sneakily asking about your life. You often prepared tea and snacks for him, and while he enjoyed some of them, he did not hesitate to let you know when something wasn’t tasty. So far, the snacks he liked the most were whichever you prepared using fresh fruit, so it wasn’t surprising to find a handmade basket full of fresh berries on the spot where he usually sat. He said it was a gift, but you knew it was his way of asking you to bake something for him. 
You were kneading dough when Taeyong showed up at your place, looking exhausted. He kissed your forehead and hugged you softly, apologising a thousand times.
“I’m so sorry for leaving like that,” he whispered.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going into rut?” you asked him, hugging him back. You weren’t accusing him of anything, but you needed to understand him.
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Of course I worry! How many times has it been since we started dating?”
“I got it under control, Y/N. My pack knows how to keep me locked away.”
“Baby, you shouldn’t have to...”
“I have no choice, love.”
“You have me,” you reminded him.
He gulped, pulling away from the hug. “I would never force this on you–”
“You’re not forcing me. I’m offering.”
“You don’t know what you’re offering,” he warned.
“I do!” you said. “Your wolf should calm down after you claim me–”
Taeyong groaned, closed his eyes, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Don’t say stuff like that…”
“Taeyong, I can take it,” you insisted. “I knew what I was getting myself into when we started dating. I want to do this with you–”
“No,” he said harshly.
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous, Y/N.”
“I trust you–”
“I don’t trust myself!” he confessed. “I’m not myself when in rut. An alpha wanting to mate is not someone you can reason with. I wouldn’t stop even if you begged. Don’t you understand?! I’m not human!”
You looked at him with wide eyes. He had always been human to you–an equal. You couldn’t understand his fear, but it was obviously something that tormented him. 
“I don’t wanna argue, Y/N,” he said weakly. “I missed you so much…Can we not talk about this right now?”
You nodded, leading him to the sofa, where you lay down in each other’s arms in silence until he fell asleep. He probably didn’t sleep well the past week; he looked tired and thinner than before. That was the last bit of physical contact you had with your boyfriend; after that, he avoided every touch. It was torture, but he knew if he touched you he would kiss you like he was dying to, and then another rut would probably be triggered, which meant he would have to be away from you again. 
You tried to be understanding, even if it hurt to see him pull away like he was repelled by you. At least his words were still very loving and assuring, but you missed his touch.
Soobin noticed you sulking during one of your scheduled interviews. 
“You’re not even listening,” he said suddenly.
“I’m sorry!” you said quickly, snapping out of it. “I was thinking about something else. 
“That’s annoying,” he sighed. “Humans normally can’t think of anything else when in the presence of a fae.”
“I guess I got used to your presence by now,” you shrugged. 
He glared at you. He was in a bad mood because he couldn’t feed on your emotions unless he was the one causing them. Right now you were sad, but it was because of someone else so he didn’t get to absorb it. He had you right in front of him and he couldn’t get anything from you.
Unless…
“I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t been marked,” he said casually, looking at your neck. “Did alpha find another partner?”
You scoffed. “Our relationship is going well, thank you for asking.”
‘Yes,’ he thought. ‘Anger.’ He would take what he could get.
“It’s strange,” he continued. “Normally werewolves claim their partners as soon as they can.”
“He wants to take things slow,” you defended him.
“Hm… I guess he doesn’t need to mark you to please you,” he conceded.
You bit your lip an that told him all he needed to know.
“Oh? Alpha rejected sex with you?” he asked in a condescendent tone.
“I told you we’re taking it slow…”
“You’re telling me one of the most libidinous creatures–a half animal– refuses to copulate?”
Your face was red because of shame and anger. “Don’t talk about him like he’s just some animal.”
“I’m not looking down on him, Y/N. I genuinely find it unbelievable. I don’t see why he would hurt himself like that.”
That caught your attention, and your anger switched to worry. “Hurt himself?”
Soobin nodded. “If he imprinted on you, denying himself the pleasure of having you should hurt him physically. He shouldn’t be able to control himself.”
“Are you saying I’m not his real mate?” you asked in a small voice.
He seemed to consider it for a moment and then he shook his head. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m certain he imprinted on you. There has to be another reason why he rejects your body.”
“Like what?” you asked urgently. All your anger was long forgotten. Now you wanted answers.
The fae licked his lips. “I can’t think of a reason not to want to fuck you, Y/N. I’m still hoping you  accidentally step out of the circle at night.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Shut up, Soobin.”
“But…” he said tentatively.
“But?” you repeated.
“If it hurts him not to have sex, and he still chooses not to, it could be that maybe…”
“Maybe what?!”
“...He’s not attracted to you.”
Your blood ran cold. You hadn’t even considered that possibility. You knew werewolves imprinted for life and that they would be loyal to their partner no matter what, but now that you thought about it, they couldn’t choose who they imprinted on. What if you were not his type but he was stuck with you? What if he was trying his best to be a good mate, but he genuinely did not want to sleep with you?
“...You think he’s not attracted to me?” you repeated.
“No. I’m saying that could be a possible reason for someone not to want to lie with their partner.”
You nodded. It was only a possibility. It wasn’t necessarily true, right?
But the more you thought about it the more it made sense. What if the reason he pulled away every time wasn’t to protect you, but because you disgusted him?
Seeing you like that, Soobin felt guilty. He wanted to make you feel something and feed on it, yes, but maybe he had taken it a bit too far. ”I’m sorry, please forget what I said”
“Okay,” you said absentmindedly, picking on the blueberries he had brought you today. 
He grabbed your hand, which once again had incautiously crossed the shield around the house. This time you were too sad to be scared.
“You’re attractive, Y/N.”.
“Thanks…,” your emotionless voice replied.
“I mean it.”
“Right,” you said, not believing him and attempting to stand up.
“Wait!,” was the last thing he said before he hastily pulled your hand and took your entire body out of the protection circle. 
You landed on top of him, spilling the berries all over the grass, and just when you were about to demand an explanation you heard a hoarse familiar voice.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Taeyong commanded. His tone was scarily calm. 
You quickly stood up and so did Soobin.
“Taeyong–” 
“Get back into the circle, Y/N,” he demanded, making his way towards Soobin.
“We were just talking,” you insist but your boyfriend had already grabbed the fae by his necklaces and pulled him closer threateningly. 
“Didn’t seem like it,” he growled, staring down at Soobin’s calm expression. He had arrived right in time to see the fae pull you towards him and his blood was boiling.
“Let him go!” you pleaded, trying to separate them. 
“Get the fuck back inside the circle!” he yelled at you. “Don’t you see how dark it is already?!”
You finally noticed that it was indeed late. You had been talking for so long that you didn’t pay attention to the sunset and the fact that it was the time for faes to hunt.
“He wouldn’t hurt me,” you insisted.
“You don’t know that,” Taeyong disagreed.
“Soobin, tell him!” you begged the fae, who had been quiet the entire time.
“I do not intend to cause her pain,” Soobin finally said, causing Taeyong’s hold to loosen up a bit as he knew faes did not tell lies. “But my intentions are not pure either.”
You opened and closed your mouth dumbly. Did he have a death wish?! Why would he admit that?
“...What do you mean?” Taeyong hissed.
Soobin’s lips twisted into a lazy smile. “You know exactly what I mean, alpha.”
The werewolf lost it, and slammed the fae against a tree. Soobin didn’t even try to defend himself, nor did he show any sign of pain. He just stared at the furious man back.
“NO! STOP!” you yelled. 
“I don’t want you anywhere near her again,” Taeyong grunted. “Do you understand?”
“But she has a book to write,” Soobin replied arrogantly. 
“TAEYONG!” you screamed, hugging your boyfriend from behind before he had the chance to throw a punch. “Baby, please, let him go. Please.”
Taeyong glared at the Soobin furiously. He was nowhere near done, but he could feel your arms shaking around him. He would not be the cause for your distress. Hesitantly, he let go of Soobin. “Get lost.”
Soobin wasn’t done either, but because of how scared you were, he decided to stop for now. Without another word he walked away. 
For a minute, you and Taeyong stood where they were in silence until he sighed and grabbed your arm, walking back into the safety of the protection spell. You were about to enter tne house when he stopped.
“It’s not the first time, is it?” he asked seriously. “I could smell him on you before, but I thought I was imagining things.”
“He comes here often,” you admitted, feeling Taeyong’s grip on your arm tighten. “But we are always separated by the spell.”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was bothering you?”
“He’s not bothering me,” you mumbled. 
Taeyong looked confused…and nervous. “So you were willingly spending time with the fae prince?”
You shrugged awkwardly. “He’s been helping me with my book.”
“Faes don’t do anything for free,” he said apprehensively. “You know that, right?”
“I do…”
“...Whad did he want in return?” 
Now he was alarmed. What had Soobin done to you?!
“He’s been feeding on my emotions,” you admitted. It sounded more intimate and shameful now that you had said it out loud.
“...What?! Y/N why–...what were you thinking?!”
“Taeyong, he didn’t hurt me. Other thatn that, all he did was talk to me and bring me fruit,” you groaned, tiredly.
He stared at you in disbelief. “…All those baskets of fruit in the kitchen are his doing?!”
“What, you think it’s poisoned or something?” You asked sarcastically.
“Fruit has a sexual innuendo for faes,” Taeyong deadpanned. “They exchange them and eat them together during the courting stage.”
Your jaw dropped and your confidence left your body. 
“He left out that detail, huh?” Your boyfriend asked rhetorically.
“I…I told him I wasn’t interested,” you said.
“Yet you accepted his courting gifts and let him absorb your emotional energy.”
“Are you jealous?” You scoffed for a lack of a better comeback.
“Yes! Jealous and furious at your naivety!”
“I know what I’m doing, okay?” you said defensively.
“No, you have no idea what you’ve been doing ever since you came to this town!” he exclaimed. “You came to live into the forest having no magical abilities, without even knowing about protection spells, let a fae court you without telling me, and even let him feed on you like it’s no big deal?!”
“Would you have preferred I fucked him as payment?!” you blurted out. 
Taeyong’s eyes widened.
Oh no.
“That’s what he originally asked from you, huh?” Taeyong scoffed. 
“It’s fine, I rejected him–”
“It’s not fine, Y/N, what the fuck?! He could have taken you regardless!”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“You don’t know him!” he roared. “You don’t know how men think! I could smell his desire for you, Y/N, goddammit!”
“Good to know someone desires me…,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes and trying to walk past him and into the house, but he pulled you back towards him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. 
“At least he’s not disgusted by me.” 
“What are you even talking about?!” he growled, starting to lose his patience.
“Oh, please! It’s obvious! You’re not attracted to me, Taeyong!”
Taeyong shook his head and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?!”
“You hate it when I touch you. You pull away when I kiss you. Honestly, Taeyong, why are we even together?”
“You can’t be serious right now,” he chuckled bitterly. “All this because I haven’t dicked you down?”
“Fuck you,” you said, ready to end the discussion and get into the damn house but once again he yanked you back, this time kissing you forcefully.
You wished you had the will to push him away, or at least to remember you were mad at him, but his lips felt so warm and soft against yours and it had been so long you couldn’t even try to resist him. You let him take the lead, moaning at the way he basically fucked your mouth with his tongue while his hands travelled up and down your body. 
You gasped when he pulled up your shirt swiftly and the cold breeze caressed your stomach. It reminded you you still hadn’t gone into the house.
“B-baby, shouldn’t we go inside?” you asked.
“Why?” he asked nonchalantly before pulling the shirt even higher, along with your bra. “Like you weren’t about to let the fae prince take you against a tree,” he said sharply and attached his mouth to one of your nipples.
You moaned and threw your head back. “I-I wasn’t going to–”
“I would have killed him,” he said between wet kisses placed on your chest, licking up to your neck. “I would have started a damn war and put the entire town in danger. But you don’t care about that, do you? You just wanted sex.”
“W-with you only–Ah!” you gasped when one of his hands slid inside your pants, cupping your center and patting it roughly.
“I’ll give it to you. Again and again,” he promised, nibbling on your ear. “But don’t say later I didn’t warn you.”
All of a sudden he turned you around so you were facing the forest and he was standing behind you. He held you in place by circling your waist with one hand while the other found its way into your underwear making you squirm nervously. 
“Oh! B-baby, wait–” you wanted to convince him that it was scandalous for him to finger you in such a compromising position where the whole forest could see. “The faes–Oooh!”
“I know, my love. I see them,” Taeyong chuckled by your ear, easing a finger into your entrance. 
“F-fuck!” you moaned. Unlinke Taeyong’s your human eyes could only see some trees in the dark of the night, but it was hunting hour, so you had no doubt someone was out there. Soobin probably hadn’t gone too far. He could be watching this lewd spectacle right now. “It’s so embarrassing…Nngh!”
“Oh, Y/N, don’t be embarrassed,” he panted between messy licks on your neck. He slid a second finger inside of you and curled them in just the right angle to have your vision go blurry and your toes curl. “Soobin wanted to see you cum, so we’re going to show him, yeah?”
You shook your head, but you could feel yourself getting close to your climax. “Taey-aah…Baby I’m s-so sorry, p-please–Ah!”
“If you’re sorry you’re going to cum in my fingers for the entire forest to see,” he dared you, pumping into you faster and pressing his palm against your clit. 
“Taeyong!” you moaned, tilting your head back and resting it on his shoulder as he fingered you furiously with one hand and bounced your tits with the other.
“Come on, come on, Y/N, cum, cum, fucking cum!” he demanded darkly before sinking his fangs into your skin and pressing your G-spot harder. 
For a second you couldn’t breathe. Your body felt light and tingly and the only thing you could focus on was your boyfriend’s raspy voice as he complimented you.
“That’s my mate,” Taeyong cooed, licking the fresh mark on your neck and finally  taking his hand out of your underwear. “From now on only I can make you cum, mmkay?”
You nodded dumbly and allowed your legs to give out, landing on your knees on the grass. That had been so intense you were still coming to terms with the fact that you had had an orgasm in public and, potentially been seen by Soobin. 
More importantly, you had been marked as Taeyong’s, meaning he did want you after all.
Before you had time to celebrate you felt a sharp pain on the back of your head as Taeyong pulled your hair to make you look up. 
The first thing you saw was his massive hard cock as he jerked it slowly, and if you looked a bit higher you could see his red eyes staring back into yours. 
“Suck,” he commanded, pressing the head of his cock against your mouth. 
You didn’t hesitate. You were salivating the moment you saw it and you wanted nothing more but to have it in your mouth, completely forgetting all decorum and the fact that you were still pretty much out in the open. You parted your lips and licked the precum leaking from his tip, making him groan and tighten his grip on your hair.
“I said suck, not lick,” he grunted, pushing the tip past your lips and shuddering at the warmth. “Mmm…yes.”
You sucked on the tip enthusiastically, hollowing your cheeks occasionally to hear him curse, and then taking him deeper…or at least trying to, because even though you had heard about an alpha’s size, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing.
He was barely half way in when you gagged around the tip and a loud moan escaped him. “Ooooh…Oh, Y/N, fuck…”
You tried to get used to the feeling, but he wasn’t feeling patient today so he used his grip on your hair to angle your head in a position to fuck into your mouth comfortably, making you gag again.
“Come on, love, relax your throat,” he instructed, thrusting faster and trying to go deeper, but his size was too much for you. “What was The Moon thinking? Giving an alpha such a delicate human to breed? How will you t-take my knot?” he asked teasingly, but his words caused damage to himself, making his cock twitch at the thought of fucking you somewhere thighter and more wet than your mouth.
You moaned around him, struggling to breath as he kept assaulting your mouth. Luckily he took his member out, allowing you to gasp, desperate for air. 
“Almost there, love,” he grunted, using his cock to slap your cheek. “Open up,” he urged, now slapping your tongue, before he placed both his hands on the back of your head and thrusted into your mouth with full force on more time, rolling his eyes back at the pleasurable feeling of you moaning and gagging around him while his cum filled your throath. “F-fuuuck…,” he breathed out, moving your head harshly from side to side for a little extra stimulation like you were nothing but a toy.
When you thought you would pass out he released you, making you cough loudly and take desperate breaths. 
Once you calmed down, Taeyong kneeled down in front of you and kissed your forehead, which was a crazy contrast to his previous behavior, before he took you in his arms and lifted you up.
“Show’s over,” he said, looking into the dark forest. You still couldn’t see anything, but it was obvious who Taeyong was talking to. “She’s taken,” he added before (finally) carrying you inside.
It finally hit you that he wasn’t finished when you found yourself landing on your bed on your back, with your legs hanging off the side. Taeyong climbed on top of you and looked at you as he caressed your hair. His gentle touch showed you that your sweet boyfriend was still there, even if he wasn’t the one in control of his actions.
He leaned in and licked a string of cum from your cheek to the corner of your mouth, before kissing you. “Don’t say I’m not attracted to you,” he said. He didn’t sound angry anymore, but his tone was serious. “Ever.”
“I’m sorry,” you croaked and coughed a little, your throat still sore.
He nodded, now looking at the trail his fingers were drawing, from the mark on your neck to your still uncovered breasts, and going down your stomach. He then got off the bed and in the blink of an eye he ripped off your pants and panties.
“Tae–” you called his name questioningly, sitting up, but he gently pushed you back on the mattress and kneeled in front of you. 
He kissed your inner tigh slowly, nibbling on it occasionally as he got closer to your center.
“Oh god,” you whispered when blew on your clit before looking into your eyes, sticking his tongue out and immediately flattening it against you. “Ooh! B-baby…ah…”
He moved his head in small circles, slowly, moaning at your taste. Then he licked his way down to your entrance, using his fingers to spread your folds and thrust his tongue inside.
Your back arched and you screamed at the intrusion, and he loved to hear you losing your cool like that, so he pressed his head harder against you, licking and drinking as much of you as he could while his nose teased your clit just enough to drive you insane. Your hands landed on his head, pushing him harder against you and he moaned appreciatively and sliding a digit in along with his tongue.
“Taeyong oh–...Oh my g-god,” you gasped, feeling yourself getting close for the second time.
He knew exactly what to do. He attached his mouth to your clit and sucked on it slowly, but thrusted another finger into you at a faster pace. The contrast was delightful and your body tensed, finally releasing as his tongue circled your clit languidly.
Satisfied, he parted from you, taking his fingers into his mouth to suck on them wantonly. “Mm…Y/N, that was heavenly,” he purred.
You were still registering his words and the tingling feeling in your body when you felt something hot and hard rubbing your pussy. It was finally happening; Taeyong had taken off his pants and underwear and was standing between your legs guiding his cock into you. His size was intimidating, but more than scared, you were eager.
“B-baby,” you gasped at the intrusion.
“Mm?” he hummed, focused on the way your walls squeezed him.
“Take me,” you pleaded and winced when he thrusted more of him inside.
“Y-yeah…” he agreed pushing a bit harder and groaning when he couldn’t get any deeper. “Fuck, Y/N, so tight…” 
He held your ankles against his shoulders, pulled out until only the tip remained inside and then rammed back into you, letting out a shaky breath. “This is…oooh…this is all y-your tiny cunt can t-take…f-fuck,” he grunted building up a steady pace even if he coldn’t fit completely inside.
“Ah–ah, ooh…,” you whimpered, gripping the sheets for support. The pain was being replaced by a pleasant tickle in your lower abdomen, and his breathy moans only made everything a thousand times more erotic.
“N-need to–....,” he licked his lips and pushed your legs towards your body, folding you. “Go deeper…”
“Can’t b-baby, sorry–OOH!!” You moaned in surprise when he climbed on the bed, one foot planted on each side of your body, and he pressed your legs all the way to your chest, and pounded into you using his whole weight. He indeed went deeper than before.
“We c-can,” he mumbled like he was entranced. “We ca–aaah!” he insisted, bouncing on top of you to fuck into you deeper with each thrust. “S-see, my l-love? Your pussy is w-welcoming me, squeezing me s-so good…” he added deliriously. 
Your eyes rolled back when he doubled up the pace. His balls slapped against your ass and he grunted each time he felt himself get a centimeter deeper inside of you. One of your hands travelled down your body to pinch your clit and you tightened around him, making him cum with a throaty groan.
He closed his eyes and filled your cunt with his load with relish. The first of many times to come.
“Haa…Y/N…my mate…,” he breathed out, slowly opening his eyes to look at you with adoration. 
He pulled out slowly, and got off the bed to once again stand between your legs, which he held open to admire the view of his cum spilling out of you.
“Taeyong…” you croaked tiredly. “B-baby, my legs hurt.”
He kissed your calf and put your legs down, but just when you thought you could catch a breath he manhandled you so were on your belly. 
“B-baby?” you asked hesitantly, trying to turn around, but a strong hand on your nape held you in place. 
“Present properly,” he growled with his thick voice.
Instinctively you knew what he meant. You placed your knees on the mattress and arched your back, lifting your lower body while keeping your chest down. 
Taeyong hummed with approval, letting go of your nape to caress your back and then knead your ass cheeks. His hands then travelled down your tighs and pushed them open, allowing his dick to tease your folds and making you clench around nothing. 
“Should have done this since the beginning,” Taeyong murmured, sliding into you slowly. “You wouldn’t have–aah….,” he gasped and his hips faltered when you pushed back to meet him midway. “Shit… you wouldn’t h-have entertained another man’s advances if I had…haa… kept you—Mmh…full…”
“You were t-too busy avoiding me–” you had the audacity to say but were quickly interrupted when he plunged into you hard enough to leave you breathless.
“You have a lot of nerve for someone who c-can’t even…haaa… take me all the way in,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “My bad,” he sneered. “I treated you like a queen when you wanted to be fucked like a whore.”
“You’re so petty when you’re jea– Fuck!” you whined when he positioned one feet on the bed and curled his body over yours, quickening his thrusts.
“You still don’t know your place, hmm?” he muttered darkly as one of his hands drifted towards your folds. “I was too lenient with you. But that stops today,” he grunted rubbing your clit roughly. 
Your brows furrowed with pleasure and you shrieked when your orgasm hit you. Your body tensed and then fell limp on the bed, making him slide out of you, much to his disapproval. 
“We’re nowhere near done, omega,” he purred.
Your eyes snapped open. What?
“W-what did you call me?” you asked, turning around and crawling back cautioslly. 
He followed you, climbing onto the bed and landing on top of you, giving you a passionate kiss. “My omega,” he mumbled in between kisses.
“B-baby I’m,” you sighed when his kisses travelled down your jaw. “I’m not an omega…” you reminded him, caressing his hair gently.
He looked at your face, then at the mark on your neck and then back at your face. Then he laughed softly and shook his head, cupping your face. “You’re confused,” he cooed.
You were astonished. 
He was gone gone.
Is this what he meant when he said he wasn’t himself when in rut?
“Taeyong,” you called his name while he tried to take off your wrinkled shirt and bra. “What’s my name?”
He threw your clothes somewhere on the floor and went for another kiss. “Y/N,” he sighed against your lips. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, my mate, my omega…”
Okay, at least he knew who he was fucking. He was only mistaken about one detail.
““I’m human,baby,” you tried to reason. “Humans can’t be omegas.”
He took his shirt off, and positioned himself between your legs. “Nonsense. Only an omega has hips like these,” he reasoned, looking at your body, enchanted. “Perfect for breeding,” he muttered before sinking into you in one go.
“Oooh! Oh, fuck, fuck,” you whined, arching your back.
“And these tits,” he uttered, leaning down to burry his face between them, kissing, licking, biting. “Perfect to feed our pups.”
You let out soft moans and gave up on trying to reason with him. He was in rut and to be honest, it was turning you even more how pussy drunk he was.
“All you have to do is let me in,” he growled, pushing his hips onto yours harder, still trying to fit it all inside.
“G-god, shit–Aaaah!” you squirmed in his arms.
He sit up and held your hips in a strong grip to start fucking you with intent. He was sweating and grunting, tensing his muscles every time he pushed into you, trying to reach deeper. “Accept me, omega,” he moaned. “Be good.”
“I’m t-trying, baby I– fuck, I d-don’t think it’s possi–Aaaah!!” you screamed when thrusted hard, finally burying his cock into you completely. Your legs shook and you threw your head back, completely caught off guard by an intense orgasm. “T-taeyong—Tae, fuck!”
Taeyong’s jaw had dropped. He himself was shocked at how deliciously good it felt to be one with you. He laughed breathlessly and gave you an open-mouthed kiss, which you barely responded to, as you still hadn’t completely came down from your high.
“See? Y-youre my perfect little omega,” he breathed out, pulling out and fucking back into you, satisfied with the depth of his thrusts. “F-fuh…fuck, Y/N, you feel amazing,” you heard him say when you got back to your senses.
You couldn’t believe this was your sweet, shy boyfriend. His moans were loud and shameless, his words were highly indecorous, his movements were precise but harsh, his body was covered in tattoos you didn’t even know he had, his teeth were displayed in a content smile that seemed sinful with the sounds that came out from his mouth, and his pupils were so dilated you couldn’t even see the red in his eyes.
 Then you looked down and saw a slight bump forming in your tummy along with his thrusts. 
“Oh g-god…Baby y-you’re in my stomach…” you sobbed, making him groan appreciatively.
“Ooohh fuck, yeah,” he hissed, using one of his hands to press down on your lower abdomen and making you whine. “Yes, love, yes, yes,” he murmured.
“S-so big,” you whimpered
“All y-yours, my love,” he cooed, pressing his pelvic bone against your core and rotating his hips.
You  tossed and turned desperately, the stimulation becoming too much for your spent body, and then everything turned black. You coun’t see anything, your ears were ringing and your heart rate slowed. You felt weightless and then came nothing. 
You don’t know how long you were gone, but when you woke up Taeyong looked absolutely deranged, fucking into you fast enough to have the bed shaking and panting like a dog in heat. When you made eye contact he shivered, cumming inside of you with a guttural moan, but he didn’t stop. He winced and kept going like his life depended on it.
He had warned you.
He told you he wouldn’t be able to stop.
You knew there was only one way to calm him down. 
“Oh, baby,” you called for him. “My baby needs t-to knot me?”
He nodded quickly panting, looking at your belly, dazed. “Pups,” was the only coherent word he could say and even that was probably hard to pronounce in such a lust-induced state.
“W-wanna give me your pups?” you taunted, pulling him impossibly closer by circling his waist with your legs. “Make me a mommy?”
He groaned animalistically, snapping his hips hard.
You heard a loud crack. 
And then, before you could comprehend what had happened, the room moved slightly and you felt yourself fall along with Taeyong, and the mattress.
 One of the bed legs bent–or broke, you had no idea–and now you were lying on a slightly bent mattress on the floor with your boyfriend still humping you.
“B-baby—we broke the–Oh!” you tried to speak, but Taeyong couldn’t care less. He was so close and it felt so good he went even harder and faster.
“Haa…,” he panted, furrowing his brows. “Aah–ah haa my–...my omega.”
“Y-yeah,” you nodded, not trying to correct him anymore. “I’m yours, baby–ah! Ah! Oh–AH!”
His eyes rolled back until only the white part was visible, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth as a lewd expression of pure bliss when his knot finally started forming.
“Yeess, baby, g-give it to…aaah! Give it to m-me, come on,” you urged him, using one of your hands to rub your clit.
 Heavy pants were the only thing coming from his mouth. He forced his knot into your entrance and let out a high-pitched moan, cumming so hard he felt dizzy. 
You tossed your head back, stroking your clit faster until you came one more time. This orgasm was not as intense as the others, but Taeyong’s constant spurts of cum inside of you made it feel just as satisfying. 
“Pups,” he repeated, sighing shakily and caressing your stomach and whimpering when his cock twitched and released another string of cum. “T-take my pups…,” he said, finally collapsing on top of you.
“Holy shit, Taeyong,” you breathed out, weakly lifting one of your hands to play with his hair. “You weren’t joking about this whole rut thing.”
He hummed,  looking for your neck to lick his mark possessively.
“But I told you I could handle it–” you continued speaking before he silenced you with a kiss.
“You have no choice now, Y/N,” he said when he pulled away, finally sounding lucid. “You’ll have to endure it until the end.”
You scoffed. “I just did.”
He raised his brows. “You think it’s over?”
“Well, it looks like you’re back to normal now, so…yeah?” 
He stared at you in silence and then sighed.
“Y/N…my ruts last a week,” he said slowly. 
“A week?!” you repeated in disbelief.
“Mhm,” he confirmed. “I gain some clarity back after cumming a few times, but that will probably last about 20 minutes before I’m fucking you again.”
Your eyes widened at the discovery of this information and he tried his best not to laugh.
“But like you said, you can take it, right?” 
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exhaslo · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 4- Miguel x reader (Public Sex)
        Sometimes you questioned what you did to deserve a loving boyfriend like Miguel. He was everything you ever dreamed of and more. You met by chance. You worked at a local coffee shop right across from Alchemax, which is where he worked. He stopped in once in a blue moon at first, but when you kept trying to get to know him, he became your regular. He only appeared when you were working and only wanted to have his order taken by you.
        You thought it only happened in movies, but it was real. Eventually, you grew the courage to ask him out and he said yes. One thing led to the next and you and Miguel had officially been dating for about six months now. Miguel was perfect. Although, you did get the feeling like he wasn't telling you something. You tried to brush the thought away, but every time you saw Spiderman...You wondered...His built, he voice; it all seemed like Miguel.
"And there I go daydreaming again. Shit, I grabbed the caramel instead of chocolate. Shit." You cussed under your breathe as you tried to return to work.
        It was, yet, another busy day at your job. Lunch had just begun and everyone was trying to cram in a snack or a drink. Hurrying to remake the drink you had messed up on, you heard a familiar voice clear his throat. Your lips curled into a smile as you turned around and saw Miguel at the counter. He stared at you with such loving eyes.
        As you finished the drink you were making, you began to work on Miguel's. You added an extra shot of espresso, knowing how tired the man can get after work. The amount of dates the two of you went on that had Miguel nearly falling from exhaustion were too many to count. His job was straining. You wished you could help him more than just an extra shot. Miguel always said that having you by his side was enough. Although, you could feel his pent up stress every time the two of you had sex.
        The man had stamina! He always held back, trying his best to be gentle with you, but you knew he wanted to go rougher. To let out his stress. You just had no idea how to approach him on the subject.
"You look tired already. They got you working other's shit?" Miguel's hand grazed yours, wishing to hold it, "You should take a nap."
"Wish I could, but no one else will do the job," He muttered lowly.
"(Y/N)! We got a big order!" Your coworker yelled out.
        Miguel tighten his grip on your hand for just a moment. He did not want to let you go just yet. It brought a smile to your face. Letting him know that you were to text him later, you returned to work.
        Miguel stayed for a bit longer, watching you slave away to the swarm of customers. You did not deserve the treatment some of these assholes gave you. You deserved better. Miguel wanted to take you away from here. He had the money to pay for your expenses. He had the money for you to live comfortably at his place. He just felt like he was going to rush you if he made the suggestion. Exhaling lowly, Miguel took one last look of you before leaving the coffee shop.
---------------
        You let out a stiffing yawn as your finally clocked out for the day. Unfortunally, you had to pack in a few extra hours due to someone not showing up. It was later than you were comfortable with. The sun was already setting and Miguel had went home for the day. Normally, he would walk with you if you ever had a late shift, but you hated to bother him so much. You worried that he might get tired of you asking him repeatedly. Your cheeks huffed out, hating the thought.
"What to make for dinner?" You mutter as you walked home.
        It was a fairly quiet night. A little too quiet. Despite living in the upper side of Nueva York, it still felt unsafe sometimes. You kept telling yourself that it could always be worse. You could be in the lower city. Hurrying across the street, you let out a soft sigh of relief as you joined a small crowd. Some streets were busier than others. It made you feel safe.
"You look lonely, darling. Need someone to keep you company?"
        Aaaaaand there it was. The occasional drunk or pervert. Keeping your head held high, you ignored the man. Hearing another voice, you tensed as a different man now approached you. What happened to the crowd you were just in? You had begun to shake as another man joined in. Your hands slowly reached into your purse for your pepper spray. Miguel had convinced you to get something to protect yourself. You never thought you'd had to use it though.
"What are you-" Right as one of the men went to grab your hand, you heard a yelp.
        Your body flinched as the other two tried to run away. All you saw was webbing fire towards their backs, dragging them past you. It was safe now. Spiderman was here. If only you could tell that to your racing heart. It was hard to breathe. Spiderman stood before you, wrapping his arms around your body. Your breathing hitched as you started to cry. 
"It's okay now, mija (darling). Just breathe," He whispered. He sounded so much like Miguel. "Take deep breathes, no one is going to hurt you."
"M-Miguel," You sobbed quietly.
        Your ears perked up as you heard Spiderman sigh. Feeling yourself being pulled into the alley, you tensed up once more. Spiderman's hand cupped your cheek, wiping your tears away as his mask disappeared. There he was. Your loving boyfriend. Miguel's eyes stared directly into yours as he pulled you in for another hug. You returned the gesture, crying into his chest. After you calmed down, you huffed your cheeks out towards Miguel.
"I knew you were hiding something!"
"This isn't something I can easily tell anyone," Miguel told you, stroking your cheek once more.
"So this is another reason why you're so tired," Leaning your head against the palm of his hand, you noticed his red eyes sparkle brighter than normal, "You know...I think I need to properly reward my savior."
"(Y/n), you know I'll always be here for you," Miguel whispered, his hands already against your ass, "But...I think I like the idea of a reward."
"Mhm, why don't we-"
        Miguel interrupted you by abruptly slamming his lips against yours. His hands squeezed your ass once more before lifting you against the wall. Your eyes widen, almost wanting to pop out of your head, as you tried to squeeze a word out. Miguel wasn't seriously planning on having sex right here and right now?! You guys were in an alleyway of a busy street! People were passing by! Anyone could just turn their head and see you and him fucking.
"Mi-"
"¿Oh? ¿Ya estás mojado porque te besé aquí? Qué tan sucio. (Oh? You're already wet from me kissing you here? How dirty.)" He said with a smug grin on his face. Your face burned red,
"S-Says the one who-"
        Miguel stole another kiss from you, wanting to relish in the moment of your embarrassment. He bulge rutting against your soaked fabric under your skirt. You could deny it all you want, but the thought of someone catching you having sex with Spiderman was exciting. Miguel was still being careful though. If anyone were to see the two of you, he did not want them to see your beautiful body. He was going to tease you through your clothes as much as possible.
          Miguel pressed his hips against yours, keeping you up against the wall. He brought his hands up to your shirt, unbuttoning your uniform. You wanted to protest, but you were covering your own mouth from your moans. As Miguel worked on your top, his lower half was grinding against you roughly. You could feel your body burn, wanting himto fuck you already.
"So beautiful," Miguel's pupils were focused sololy on your body.
           He cut your bra down the middle, savoring the way your breasts poked out. You stiffed another moan as Miguel started to suck on one of your breasts. His fangs grazing your nipple ever so slightly. All of this friction and toying with was making your mind hazy. You were unable to suppress your moans as you reached your high.
           Miguel licked his lips, groaning as your panties soaked his suit. He freed his cock, needing to be inside you. He released your abused nipple, attacking your neck as he slid your panties to the side. The hickeys he was going to leave on you. Making sure that you knew who you belonged too. A soft groan escaped his lips as he rubbed his cock against your wet cunt.
"M-Mig," You breathed out, "Y-You don't have to hold back, b-but maybe not here?" You tried to reason with him once more.
           Miguel's breathing grew heavy as he tuned you out. All he heard was permission to let loose. Pressing the tip of his cock into your folds, Miguel inhaled at the sounds of your moans. Your gummy walls sucking him in faster than he was giving you. You always knew how to trest him right. How to make him feel good.
"Careful, mija. Someone will hear you," Miguel said before thrusting into you.
           Once more, you tried to cover your mouth, but it was futile. Miguel was thrusting into you roughly. As if he couldn't get enough. As if it wasn't enough. Miguel told you to bite his shoulder, to which you did. He held your ass up as he gave you another good slap of his dick.
          You shuddered as you felt another orgasm about to break you. Anyone could just look down the alley and see the two of you fucking. See that Spiderman was givinf you his cock and no one else. The thought brought you to your orgasm. Miguel was your perfect boyfriend. Your perfect superhero.
"Look at you, don't care if anyone hears or sees us, huh?" 
           Miguel cussed lowly as you gushed around him. That beautiful white ring that covered his cock. Now to return the favor. Holding your head, Miguel pressed you against the wall, rutting deeper into you. He moaned in your ear as he coated your walls white. Miguel let you catch your breathe, before swinging up to the top of the building.
"We're not done yet, mija. I want to let the whole city know that you belong to me. Make sure no one tries to touch you again," 
          You whimpered lowly as he had you lean against the building. The view of the city before you as Miguel entered your throbbing hole once you. 
"I'll take good care of you from now on." Miguel kissed the top of your head before giving you another charade of thrusts. You mewled in response, staring down at the apartment windows,
"Migueeeeeeel!"
          Needless to say, you didn't go back to work the next day. Miguel made sure of that.
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simwithshan · 6 months
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BARISTA GIG LOT TRAIT *GIFT*
The "Barista Gig Lot Trait" is a mod for The Sims 4 designed primarily for storytelling and roleplaying purposes. This versatile lot trait can be added to a café lot, or any location of your choice, though it's most at best in a coffee shop setting. When applied, it provides your Sim with a fixed payment of 100 simoleons upon arrival. The real charm lies in the departure – when you press the house icon on your Sim's photo at the bottom of the screen, they receive an additional bonus pay tip, ranging from 0 to 300 simoleons (sometimes you'll get no tips for the day).
This mod allows you to create captivating narratives for your Sims as they take on the role of a barista, immersing themselves in the day-to-day operations of a cafe. You can greet customers, tend to the cafe, or even form a group of co-workers (particularly if you have the "Get Together" expansion pack), roleplaying the entire day as a barista. Without specific goals or a list of tasks to complete, this mod offers a simple and enjoyable way to engage in immersive roleplay.
Whether you want your college-bound Sim to earn part-time income on a fixed schedule or seek an extra income source while pursuing a career, the "Barista Gig Lot Trait" is a perfect addition to your Sims 4 gameplay for those who enjoy storytelling and roleplaying. It allows you to shape your Sim's life and create unique narratives.
Its a very simple mod I was using personally for my own gameplay and thought you'll love it too!
Base Game Compatible
TOS
DO NOT Re-upload my mods,cc.
DO NOT Modify or edit my mods,cc.
DO NOT convert my mod to any game without my permission.
DO NOT claim my work as your own. Please give me credit!
DL - https://www.patreon.com/posts/91518953
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netherworldpost · 1 month
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Netherworld Post Office is NOW OPEN!
Launching took far longer than expected. The short answer: I studied what Evil Supply Co. did well, where it struggled, and where I want to focus.
I’m starting with greeting cards and some really interesting pay-if-you-want download concepts. In the next several weeks, I will slowly add more of both. In the next several months, I’ll begin adding zines and comics as well.
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And of Course, a Classic $0.13 Sale!
To celebrate our launch, we are hosting our traditional “$0.13 Mystery Sale to Celebrate Friday 13th” (it’s not Friday 13th, we are simply too impatient to wait).
Available through Sunday, April 15, 2024!
Standard sales tax, shipping and handling, and/or international postage and/or customs fees apply. This is a normal, albeit heavily discounted, greeting card in our shop. No minimums nor maximums.
Netherworld Postage greeting card (view shop)
A giant THANK YOU for your attention and support!
Next steps are to gently panic as the inevitable quick-to-resolve, non-destructive, subtle but embarrassing, problems are inevitably found. This is part of launching any new project.
(Thank you in advance for any patience I may request while hammering out last-second post-launch weirdness.)
Okay, back to work.
Maybe a waffle first. Some coffee.
Thank you again. We’re going to have fun.
VIEW SHOP
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You can’t shop your way out of a monopoly
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I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then SAN FRANCISCO (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!
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If you're running a business, you can either invest at being good at your business, or good at Google SEO. Choose the former and your customers will love you – but they won't be able to find you, thanks to the people who choose the latter. And if you're going to invest in top-notch SEO, why bother investing in quality at all?
For more than a decade, Google has promised that it would do something about "lead gens" – services that spoof Google into thinking that they are local businesses, pushing down legit firms on both regular search and Google Maps (these downranked businesses invested in quality, not SEO, remember). Search for a roofer, a plumber, an electrician, or a locksmith (especially a locksmith), and most or all of the results will be lead-gens. They'll take your call, pretend to be a local business, and then call up some half-qualified bozo to come out and charge you four times the going rate for substandard work:
https://www.nytimes.com/2016/01/31/business/fake-online-locksmiths-may-be-out-to-pick-your-pocket-too.html
Some of them just take your money and they "go back to the shop for a tool" and never return:
https://www.riverfronttimes.com/news/when-a-fake-business-used-a-real-st-louis-address-things-got-weird-32087998
Google has been promising to fix this since the late aughts, and to be fair, it's a little better. There was once a time when a map of Manhattan showed more locksmiths than taxis:
https://blumenthals.com/blog/2009/02/18/google-maps-proves-more-locksmiths-in-nyc-than-cabs/
But GMaps is trapped in the enshittification squeeze. On the one hand, the company wants to provide a good and reliable map. On the other hand, the company makes money selling "ads" that are actually payola, where a business can pay to get to the top of the listings or get displayed on the map itself. Zoom out of Google's map of central London and the highlighted landmarks are a hilarious mix of "organic" and paid listings: the British Museum, Buckingham Palace, the Barbican, the London Eye…and a random oral and maxillofacial clinic in the financial district:
https://twitter.com/dylanbeattie/status/1764711667663831455
Hell of a job "organizing the world's information and making it universally accessible and useful," Big G. Doubtless the average Londoner finds the presence of this clinic super helpful in orienting themselves relative to the map on their phone screens, and it's a real service to tourists hoping to hit all the major landmarks.
It's not just Maps users who'd noticed the rampant enshittification. Even the original design team is so horrified they're moved to speak out about the moral injury they experience seeing the product they worked so hard on turned into a giant pile of shit:
https://twitter.com/elizlaraki/status/1727351922254852182
Now, when it comes to locksmiths, I'm lucky. My neighborhood in Burbank includes the wonderful Golden State Lock and Safe, which has been in business since 1942:
https://www.goldenstatelock.com/
But you wouldn't know it from searching GMaps for a locksmith near me. That search turns up a long list of scams:
https://www.google.com/maps/search/locksmith/@34.1750451,-118.369948,14z/data=!3m1!4b1?entry=ttu
It also turns up plenty of Keyme machines – these are private-equity backed, self-serve key-cutting machines placed in grocery stores. Despite Keyme calling itself a "locksmith," it's just a badly secured, overcaptilized, enshittification-bound system for collecting and retaining shapefiles for the keys to millions of homes, cross-referenced with billing information that will make it easy for the eventual hackers to mass-produce keys for all those poor suckers' houses.
(Hilariously, Keyme claims to be an "AI" company):
https://www.businesswire.com/news/home/20200114005194/en/KeyMe-Raises-35-Million-to-Further-Its-Mission-of-Building-the-Premier-Locksmith-Services-Company-in-the-Nation
But despite the fact that you can literally see the Golden State storefront from Google Streetview, Google Maps claims to have no knowledge of it. Instead, Streetview labels Golden State "Keyme" – and displays a preview showing a locksmith using a tool to break into a jeep (I'd dearly love to know how the gadget next to the Slurpee machine at the 7-Eleven will drive itself to your jeep and unlock the door for you when you lose your keys):
https://www.google.com/maps/place/KeyMe+Locksmiths/@34.1752624,-118.3487531,3a,75y,350.19h,90.21t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1ssHrtqjqvgFir3NBauMy13Q!2e0!7i16384!8i8192!4m15!1m8!3m7!1s0x80c2959cd65dbb1b:0x4b3744cf87492a71!2sBurbank+Blvd+%26+N+Hollywood+Way,+Burbank,+CA+91505!3b1!8m2!3d34.1750025!4d-118.3493484!16s%2Fg%2F11f37_3lq8!3m5!1s0x80c2951cedbf4d39:0xe8ff9fd5872e66e9!8m2!3d34.1755176!4d-118.349!16s%2Fg%2F11mw7nr4fx?entry=ttu
It's pretty clear to me what's going on here. Keyme has hired some SEO creeps and/or paid off Google, flooding the zone with listings for its machines. Meanwhile, Golden State, being merely good at locksmithing, has lost the SEO wars. Perhaps Golden State could shift some of its emphasis from being good at locksmithing in order to get better at SEO, but this is a race that will always be won by the firm that puts the most into SEO, which will always be the firm that puts the least into quality.
Whenever I write about this stuff, people inevitably ask me which search engine they should use, if not Google?
And there's the rub.
Google used predatory pricing and anticompetitive mergers to acquire a 90% search market-share. The company spends more than $26b/year buying default position in every place where you might possibly encounter a new search engine. This created the "kill zone" – the VC's term of art for businesses that no one will invest in, because Google makes sure that no one will ever find out it exists:
https://www.theverge.com/23802382/search-engine-google-neeva-android
That's why the only serious competitor to Google is Bing, another Big Tech company (Bing is also the primary source of results on Duckduckgo, which is why DDG sometimes makes exceptions for Microsoft's privacy-invading tracking):
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DuckDuckGo#Controversies
Google tells us that the quid-pro-quo of search monopolization is search excellence. The hundreds of billions it makes every year through monopoly control gives it the resources it needs to fight spammers and maintain search result quality. Anyone who's paid attention recently knows that this is bullshit: Google search quality is in free-fall, across all its products:
https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf
But Google doesn't seem to think it has a problem. Rather than devoting all its available resources to fighting botshit, spam and scams, the company set $80 billion dollars alight last year with a stock buyback that was swiftly followed with 12,000 layoffs, followed by multiple subsequent rounds of layoffs:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task
The scams that slip through Google's cracks are sometimes nefarious, but just as often they're decidedly amateurish, the kind of thing that Google could fix by throwing money at the problem, say, to validate that new ads for confirmed Google merchants come from the merchant's registered email addresses and go to the merchant's registered website:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security
Search is a capital intensive business, and there are real returns to scale, as the UK Competition and Market Authority's excellent 2020 study describes:
https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/media/5fe4957c8fa8f56aeff87c12/Appendix_I_-_search_quality_v.3_WEB_.pdf
But Google doesn't seem to think that its search needs that $80 billion to fight the spamwars. That's the thing about monopolists, they get complacent. As Lily Tomlin's "Ernestine the AT&T operator" used to say, "We don't care, we don't have to, we're the phone company."
That's why I'm so excited about the DOJ Antitrust Division monopolization case against Google. Trusting one company to "organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful," was a failure:
https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/justice-department-sues-google-monopolizing-digital-advertising-technologies
I understand why people want to know which search engine they should use instead of Google, and I get why, "There aren't any good search engines" is such an unsatisfactory answer. I understand why each fresh round of printer-company fuckery prompts people to ask "which printer should I get?" and I understand why "There are only six major printer companies and they're all suffering from end-stage enshittification" isn't what anyone wants to hear.
We want to be able to vote with our wallets, because it's so much faster and more convenient than voting with our ballots. But the vote-with-your-wallet election is rigged for the people with the thickest wallets. Try as hard as you'd like, you just can't shop your way out of a monopoly – that's like trying to recycle your way out of the climate emergency. Systemic problems need systemic solutions – not individual ones.
That's why the new antitrust matters so much. The answer to monopolies is to break up companies, block and unwind mergers, ban deceptive and unfair conduct. "Caveat emptor" is the scammer's motto. You shouldn't have to be an expert on lead gen scams to hire a locksmith without getting ripped off.
There are good products and services out there. Earlier this year, we decided to install a (non-networked) programmable pushbutton lock. I asked Deviant Ollam – whom I know from Defcon's Lockpicking Village – for a recommendation and he suggested the Schlage FE595:
https://www.schlage.com/en/home/products/FE595PLYFFFFLA.html
I liked it so much I bought another one for my office door. Eric from Golden State Lock and Safe installed it while I wrote this blog-post. It's great. I recommend both of 'em – 10/10, would do business again.
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Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#vapor-locksmith
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Image: alicia rae (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kehole_Red.jpg
CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en
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Budhiargomiko (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Wasteland.jpg
CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en
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wongyuseokie · 11 months
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One Trick Peony | c.s.c
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Summary:  Choi Seungcheol could only do one type of floral arrangement, and the rest he’d pawn off to you, granted he got a ton of orders, but he would always take the orders for arrangements that he could never do. This time he went too far. He took an ‘only peonies’ arrangement–a painfully delicate flower–and took an order for a wedding, and with your luck, you’re the only two florists available that weekend. 
☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ☁︎ mild angst |  ♥ completed works  Word Count: 4885 words Pairings: Florist!Choi Seungcheol x  Florist! Female Reader  Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff, angst, smut, frenemies to lovers, idk if thats the right word they just have a ton of digs at each other but no actual hate. 
Content Warnings: Arguing, but it’s all very childish. Cheol being a slight smartass, but Y/N also being a bit mouthy. Idiots to lover makes more sense, both are dense af. Kissing, mentions of food. Inaccurate depictions of being a florist, idk. Loud and noisy kids destroying things. Moment of self doubt. 
Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex (don’t do this irl), oral (f receiving), sorta dom! Cheol, rough sex (but its more vanilla), big dick! Cheol, multiple orgasms, squirting, riding, overstimulation, creampie, cum licking, hickies, kissing, phew I think that’s it. Cheol is an after care king. 
Authors Note: This has been written for svthub's secret garden collab. Thank you all for letting me be part of this wonderful collab. Please check out the rest of the works written by my talented friends 💕 Banner Credits: @classicscreations
Cross Posted to AO3
© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.
You knew hate was a strong word, but that was all you could feel for your coworker, Choi Seungcheol. When Seungcheol first joined the flower shop, you didn’t mind him. You realised he was only capable of making one floral arrangement. 
At first, you found it cute. You’d help him, teach him, but after a while, you realised he didn’t even pay attention, and that’s when your pettiness began, and Seungcheol matched it by being extra petty. 
“Choi Seungcheol!” You exclaimed, knowing he hated being called by his full name. 
“How many times do we have to go over this, Y/N? I don’t like being called by my first name?” Seungcheol complained, and you rolled your eyes at his whining. Seungcheol whined a lot. You’d never admit it, but it was adorable. A grown man who was tall and buff whined like a toddler. Only Seungcheol could be that cute, but he didn’t have to know. 
“Why is there an order in the system for a wedding?” You questioned. “You know that we are short-staffed right now.”
“Look. I do, but it’s only a wedding with 80 people, and this lady and her husband waited for their wedding for five years because life kept getting in the way. You wouldn’t deny a couple of that joy, would you?” Seungcheol asked hopefully, grinning widely at you. 
“Besides, I told them that the best florist in Seoul was the only choice for their special day,” Seungcheol boasted, and you scoffed. 
“Of course I am, but you? You won’t even bother helping. It’ll just be me doing all the work,” you complained. 
“I’m an excellent supervisor,” Seungcheol added. 
“No, you’re just a pain in my ass,” you mumbled. 
“Oh? You know I could help take the pain away,” Seungcheol teased, and you glared at him.
“I will break a flower vase over your pretty head if you even try,” you threatened. 
“You think my head is pretty?” Seungcheol asked, and you glared at him again before storming into the back room. 
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“So, how do you want to get to the venue?” Seungcheol asked you later that evening as you were cleaning up your station. The shop was bustling, and all the arrangements came to you because Seungcheol was incompetent and too busy wooing more customers to buy more flowers without concern for your workload. 
“What venue?” You asked, gritting your teeth. 
“Ouch? What’s gotten you so huffy?” Seungcheol asked. 
“You’re no help, and now you’re here trying to be chatty,” you spat. 
“I got you so many orders, though!” Seungcheol protested. 
“I didn’t need them. You know I’m busy,” you fired back, and Seungcheol frowned. 
“Hey!” A voice interrupted, and you turned to see your manager staring at you and Seungcheol disapprovingly. 
“Look, I don’t know if this is a situation of lovers who are too blind to confess, so they just verbally abuse one another? Or if you two hate each other, cut it out, at least for the weekend. This wedding would be huge for this business, and after that, we can discuss a plan or something that involves less interaction with you both, but for two days. I need you to behave. Can you do that?” Your manager asked, and you looked at Seungcheol, who avoided your gaze. 
“Yes, I can. I don’t know about her,” Seungcheol said, throwing you a cunning smile. 
“Seungcheol,” your manager warned, making him pout. 
“You see what I have to put up with?” You complained, and your manager glared at you. 
“Two days, just two days, make it work,” your manager pleaded, looking at you and Seungcheol, and you both sighed before nodding and agreeing. 
For the sake of your job, you both would make it work. 
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Choi Seungcheol [7:58 am]: Morning, darling, I’m downstairs. On time, the flowers shall be delivered to the venue. I got you coffee, so please make your way down if you don’t want to get stuck in traffic. 
You [7:59 am]: Yeah, I’ll be down. 
Choi Seungcheol [8:00 am]: So cold, should have gotten you something warm to drink instead…
Choi Seungcheol [8:01 am]: See you soon, kitten, xoxo. 
You let out a groan, kitten? How dare he call you that, and not just because that word had you feeling a certain way, but kitten? Who did he think he was? 
You grumbled to yourself, grabbed your duffle bag, and made your way out of your apartment, triple checking to ensure you locked the door four times before heading downstairs to find Seungcheol. 
“Morning, sweetheart,” Seungcheol greeted, and you shot him a look. 
“Why the nicknames?” You asked.
“I’m trying to be friendly.” 
“Well, it’s weird, so stop,” you mumbled. 
“Fine, Y/N,” Seungcheol answered with a pout. 
“Shall we? It’s a bit of a drive, and I really don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” you offered.
“Yeah, let’s go.” 
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“Oh, before I forget, here I put your coffee and some breakfast muffins for snacking,” Seungcheol offered as he pointed to the console. 
“This is really kind of you, thank you.” 
“See, I can be considerate,” Seungcheol bragged. 
“Yeah, one coffee and breakfast muffin won’t change how much of a pain you are at work,” you teased, making Seungcheol pout. 
“But you’re off to a good start Choi Seungcheol,” you added, making Seungcheol groan.
“I told you I don’t like my full name being used,” Seungcheol whined. 
“Okay, why, though?” 
“It feels distant, detached and cold. I feel like I’m being told off,” Seungcheol mumbled. 
“To be fair, whenever I use your full name, I am usually telling you off,” you joked, making Seungcheol frown more. 
“You can just yell at me. That’s better than full naming me,” Seungcheol offered with a grin. 
“You got a degradation kink or something?” You asked. 
“No, but I’ll tell you my kinks if you tell me yours,” Seungcheol teased with a grin. 
“Shut up.” 
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You weren’t sure when you dozed off, but the next thing you knew was Seungcheol was gently shaking you awake. 
“Hey, Y/N, we’re here,” Seungcheol said softly as you stirred awake. 
“Fuck, I’m so sorry I fell asleep,” you apologised, knowing you broke a universal law. Do not fall asleep at the passenger seat. 
“It’s okay, traffic was light and honestly it was kind of peaceful,” Seungcheol teased and you glared at him. Maybe you didn’t feel that bad. 
“Come on let’s check in,” Seungcheol said as you slowly made your way out of the car, grabbed your things and headed towards the hotel. 
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“I can’t believe our manager gave us a room to share,” you grumbled, as you entered the hotel suite. 
“Correction she gave us a suite to share with separate bedrooms, it’s really not that bad,” Seungcheol offered and you pouted. 
“Fine, but don’t snore loudly and disturb me,” you mumbled. 
“I do not snore!” Seungcheol protested. 
“You fell asleep in the shop once and you snored so loudly that you woke yourself up,” you teased making Seungcheol sulk. 
“Such a meanie,” Seungcheol pouted. 
“You’re adorable when you sulk,” you said with a fond smile making Seungcheol grin at you. 
“I’m always adorable,” Seungcheol corrected, and you frowned at him, but you did agree, but you’d never tell him. 
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“Rise and Shine. I got you breakfast. We need to be the in the ballroom to start the decorations in an hour!” Seungcheol yelled the following day as you entered the living room. 
“I’m up,” you whined as you towelled your wet hair. 
“Aww, kitten, it’s sunny out. Put a smile on your face otherwise, you’ll ruin the delicate flowers if you’re just angry,” Seungcheol babbled, and you glared at him. 
“Hey, how do you know I like this?” You asked as you looked at the plate Seungcheol set up for you. 
“Simple, I pay attention,” Seungcheol said with a smile and you felt your heart swell. You never expected him to know so much about you, but it was the same way you knew how he liked his coffee, what his favourite colour was, and his favourite author. You didn’t have to know any of it, but you paid attention too. 
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“You keep staring at me, quit it,” you muttered as you delicately arranged the peonies into a beautiful centrepiece. 
That afternoon you and Seungcheol were busy arranging the ballroom with flowers and making intricate decorations for the reception. 
“I can’t help it,” Seungcheol mumbled. 
“Why?” 
“Well, you look so beautiful doing what you love,” Seungcheol said, making you glare at him. 
“Shut up.” 
“I can, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that I meant what I said,” Seungcheol remarked with a grin. 
“You see me working all the time. How come you never compliment me then?” You challenged. 
“Because it’s usually in a full shop with other people around, and I don’t know. I only want you to hear the compliments, not everyone else,” Seungcheol offered, making you smile shyly at him. 
“Well, thank you, and for what it’s worth, you weren’t too insufferable during this trip,” you offered with a grin. 
“I call you beautiful, and you call me mildly tolerable. What does a guy have to do to win your heart?” Seungcheol said dramatically, making you grin. 
Little did he know that he didn’t have to do too much. 
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“Cheol?” You called out from your bedroom, hoping Seungcheol could hear you. You detested cocktail gowns for their design, you could never reach the zipper and always ended up asking for help, and this dress had fancy straps that you couldn’t fasten. 
“You hollered?” Seungcheol asked as he entered your bedroom. 
“Seungcheol, can you please help me tie this? I promise I’m not trying to be a smartass. I’ve been at this for ten minutes, and I keep screwing up,” You asked as you held the thin strips of your halter with one hand on the back of your neck.
Seungcheol stared at you for a second and nodded, and you turned around so that your back was facing him, and Seungcheol took a deep breath when he saw that your gown was backless, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you closer.
You melted in his arms; his toned body felt like heaven against you. 
“How tight?” Seungcheol asked, his words making your core throb. 
“I’ll tell you when to stop,” you responded. You could do the same to him if he wanted to tease you. You bit your lip in an attempt to stop grinning when you heard him curse under his breath as he pulled on the straps. 
“Right there?” he asked, and you nodded.
“Use your words,” Seungcheol whispered, his hot breath against your neck. 
“Yes, right there,” you breathed out, and Seungcheol complied, tying the knot, and you felt his hands trail down your neck to your bare back, and you had to bite harder on your lip to not whimper at his touch. 
“All done,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you turned around, his face mere inches away from yours. 
“You look breathtaking,” Seungcheol complimented, making you smile. 
“So do you. I wouldn’t be surprised if all the bridesmaids flock to you,” you teased, and Seungcheol shook his head. 
“They can flock, but there’s only one girl worth my time,” Seungcheol responded, making you gulp. 
“Shall we? We can’t be late,” Seungcheol offered with a grin. 
“Yeah, let’s go,” you mumbled. You’d just have to curb your desire for him for now, but once the reception started, you would rile Seungcheol the way he had riled you up. 
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Your plans were shot to hell the minute you walked into the ballroom, several of your floral arrangements had been destroyed, and you weren’t sure who did it, but you heard the giggles and screams of children in the ballroom and knew you found your culprits. 
Now, you weren’t one to yell at children, but when knocked into you, making you knock into another floral arrangement and destroy it, too, you couldn’t help but comment. 
“Kids, can you not play here? There are delicate arrangements,” you said as kindly as you could, and apparently, that was all it took for them to start crying. 
“Excuse me? How dare you make my children cry?” You heard someone accuse you and turned around to see an angry woman approaching you. 
“I didn’t mean to, but they were running around and destroying the floral arrangements,” you mumbled. 
“Uptight much? They’re children,” the lady sassed, and you were about to retort when Seungcheol interrupted. You weren’t sure when he showed up, but you were glad he did. 
“Ma’am, I apologise that your kids are upset, but really we’re doing our best to ensure the bride and groom are happy. You won’t get blamed for poor floral arrangements, but we will, so please be considerate of that,” Seungcheol responded calmly, and the lady shrank in size and offered a scowl before walking, well stomping out of the hall. 
“Jeez, there’s always someone like her everywhere. Come, I’ll fix the arrangements near the front of the hall, and you fix the pieces at the back of the hall?” Seungcheol offered, and you nodded meekly before heading off in that direction. 
“Hey, you did a beautiful job,” you complimented as you approached Seungcheol a few minutes later; he was just putting the final touches on a centrepiece. 
“Well. I have to. Your hard work shouldn’t go to waste,” Seungcheol said. 
“You have a delicate touch,” you mumbled. 
“I’ve been told I’m good with my hands,” Seungcheol said with a smirk, making you grin and roll your eyes at him. 
“I’m glad to see you smile,” Seungcheol said. 
“Don’t let what the mother said get to you, okay? She’s just mad that her kids embarrassed her,  take pride in your work. I know I do,” Seungcheol said as he leaned closer to place a kiss on your cheek. 
“I have to go help the groom find his boutonniere. I’ll see you later?” Seungcheol offered, and you smiled fondly at him. You watched him leave, and once he did, you placed your fingers over the spot he just kissed, and you swore you felt it tingle.
Seungcheol really didn’t have to do much to win your heart. He had it. The kiss just sealed the deal. 
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“Alright, you’ve been pouting since that little kid knocked over that vase. I’m sure that kid feels awful. Will you now just forget it for a bit and enjoy the evening? Why don’t you dance with me?” Seungcheol offered later that evening when he saw you sulking by the bar during the reception. 
“I’m not upset about that. It’s just that when his mother called me uptight, I got annoyed,” you admitted, and Seungcheol nodded knowingly as he took a seat next to you at the bar. 
“Do you think I’m uptight?” You asked, honestly, you didn’t care for Seungcheol’s opinion, but the alcohol made you extra sensitive, and for some reason, you found yourself seeking comfort in your work enemy. 
“Nah. I think you take pride in your work, so when a kid tramples over it, you’re allowed to be upset,” Seungcheol consoled. 
“When you say it like that, I sound unreasonable, getting mad at a kid at all,” you trailed off. 
“Nah. That kid was getting really annoying. He stomped on my foot a couple of times,” Seungcheol joked, smiling when he saw you return him a brief smile. 
“What I’m trying to say is that it’s okay. It’s okay to be upset, you take pride in your work, and if anyone messes with it, well, it’s fair to be upset,” Seungcheol explained, reiterating his earlier points. 
“Thank you,” you mumbled. 
“Come on. You shouldn’t be sulking at a wedding. Come dance with me,” Seungcheol offered as he hopped off the barstool and stood in front of you, holding out his hand. 
“You? Choi Seungcheol, you’re telling me not to sulk? You’re the king of sulking!” You teased, and Seungcheol grinned. 
“Yes, but I look cute doing it,” Seungcheol boasted, making you frown and swat his hand away. 
“Go away, Cheol,” you grumbled. 
“I didn’t say you don’t look cute when you sulk, it’s painfully adorable, but I like it when you smile more,” Seungcheol clarified. 
“Smooth.” 
“Very, now, dance with me. You look beautiful, and I recall you telling a customer in the past that you love weddings, so why not enjoy this one?” Seungcheol asked. 
“You remember the shit I say?” You were surprised that Seungcheol even recalled that conversation. 
“Of course, now come, dance with me,” Seungcheol pushing his outstretched arm towards you, you smiled as you took his hand, and he guided you towards the dance floor. 
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Seungcheol asked as he started to dance with you, his arms were around your waist as your hands wrapped around his neck. 
“Maybe, once.” 
“I should say it more, I cannot take my eyes of you,” Seungcheol complimented making you shyly hide your face in his chest. 
“Why the sudden flattery?” You ask. 
“It’s not sudden, I always try to do the same at work, but you’re usually busy biting, actually you are rightfully biting my head off at work,” Seungcheol corrected making you smile. 
“Then why be so annoying?” You asked making him laugh. 
“How else do I get your attention?” Seungcheol asked, and you smiled at him. 
“Okay, I have to know, you sure you don’t like being scolded, like there’s not a hidden sub inside you?” You teased. 
“Kitten, this is the second time you’ve asked about my kinks, you sure you don’t want to just find out?” Seungcheol asked, and you leaned up slightly to softly place your lips against his. 
“Show me,” you whispered as you pulled away from his lips, and Seungcheol couldn’t get the two of you out of the ballroom quick enough. 
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The elevator trip and the walk back to the room was very quiet but not awkward, Seungcheol held your hand the entire way, and you were glad because his grip made you feel grounded when you were starting to float on cloud nine. 
Once you were inside the room, Seungcheol had you Seungcheol pressed his lips to yours, and you kissed him back. His lips were even softer than you could have dreamt of. They felt full and plush as they moved against yours.
You melted into the kiss when you felt Seungcheol’s hands move along your body, his fingers pressing into your waist and back, making you moan into the kiss. 
“Is that all you got?” you teased, as you mumbled against his lips, and Seungcheol smirked into the kiss as his hands moved up your exposed back, his fingers tracing your bare skin and sliding his hands down to your clothed waist, his hands moving up your stomach resting just below your covered breast. 
“More?” Seungcheol asked, moving his lips away from yours to place them on your neck as he started to place soft kisses there, making you whimper at his touch. 
“Can I take this off?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded furiously, making him smile; he placed another kiss on your lips and quickly stripped you off your clothes, leaving you only in your panties, leaving your breasts exposed to him. 
“Fuck,” Seungcheol groaned out, and you smiled shyly at him as he pulled you into his embrace and carried you over to sit you down on the couch. Seungcheol’s lips found your neck as he sucked love bites into your neck, and his hands gently moved down to your hips. Large hands moved to grab your ass, pulling you tight against him; a string of moans and swear words left your mouth as you felt his hard length rub against your clothed pussy. 
“Cheol,” you whined out. 
“Yes?” 
“I need you,” you breathed out, and that’s all Seungcheol needed as he carried you into his bedroom, laid you on the bed, and quickly rid himself of his clothes. 
Once naked, Seungcheol crawled between your thighs and groaned when he saw the wet patch on your panties. 
“Fuck, let me have a taste, kitten,” Seungcheol said, and you only whimpered, spreading your legs further to accommodate him; Seungcheol moved quickly, pulling your panties off and throwing them across the room. 
Once greeted by your bare, glistening pussy Seungcheol knew needed to taste you, and he placed his plump lips on your clit, and started to suck, your hands twisted in his soft hair. You felt him sliding two fingers into your cunt, making you moan at the stretch, it felt so good, and Seungcheol stuck his tongue out, flicking your clit, making your back arch. 
Seungcheol smirked against your cunt, as he decided to pick up the pace, moving his fingers more quickly inside you, his mouth never leaving your clit. You kept whimpering and moaning, which only made Seungcheol increase his speed. Your legs shook as you came for him, falling apart on his tongue and finger. Seungcheol groaned as he tasted your cum, smirking, pleased with the results, but he was far from done. 
Seungcheol moved his mouth away from your clit to catch his breath, only to latch his lips back to your clit, making you whine in pleasure and pain. Seungcheol wrapped his lips around your clit while his tongue traced and circled the swollen nub. Seungcheol wrapped both his arms around your waist and held you down. 
Seungcheol moved his mouth to your pussy, shoved his tongue inside you while his fingers found your clit and started rubbing. Your grip on his hair got tighter, and he groaned at the sensation. Seungcheol’s groans vibrated against your cunt, and you held his hair for some semblance as you fell apart on his tongue. 
When he had finally cleaned you up with his tongue, you were shivering and on the precipice of another orgasm. You whimpered, trying to move away from his mouth, you were incredibly sensitive, but Seungcheol wanted to keep going. He wanted you to have a night you’d never forget, so he did and lapped up your release. 
“So sweet,” Seungcheol praised as he sat back and admired your pulsating pussy, wet, sticky, and all for him. 
“Cheol,” you moaned out. 
“Yes, kitten?” 
“Fuck me, please,” you begged, to make him smile as he adjusted your position so you were on your hands and knees. 
Seungcheol held your hips and slowly pushed himself inside you, and you felt a slight burn at the stretch. It had been so long for you since you had sex, and he was big and thick. 
Once Seungcheol realised how you weren’t hissing in pain anymore, and instead, you were moaning and muttering about how good he felt, Seungcheol started to move. He knew he wouldn’t last, not with you clenching around him so tightly. However, Seungcheol thrust into you, his movements hard and deep, eliciting whimpers and moans from you with each movement of his hips. 
Seungcheol needed to cum, but not before you, as he set off a steady pace as he fucked you and slowly reached his fingers down to your clit and rubbed at it furiously; the room was filled with your screams and his guttural moans. 
“Fuck, baby, I’m going to cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” Seungcheol groaned, gently biting your ear lobe at the same time. 
“Inside, me, please, cum inside me,” you begged as he fucked. 
 “Fuck fuck”, he groaned; a few thrusts later, he suddenly stilled and pulled out of and flipped you over so that you were laying on your back, and Seungcheol took a deep breath as he grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist. 
Seungcheol’s hard cock rested against your aching cunt; simply seeing his length made you delirious. His length was perfect, it could go deep inside you, and the thickness made you feel as good as when he fucked you. Seungcheol made you so full you had never felt, and you were sure he had ruined you for other men. 
You bucked your hips against him, rubbing your wet folds against his cock, and he hissed at that. Seungcheol pushed himself into you, and you moaned at the stretch. Seungcheol’s hands moved to unwrap your legs, moving them to position them around his neck. 
The new position allowed him to go deeper, and he pushed deep into your cunt, and he thrust his pace was perfect. Slow enough to make you feel every inch of his cock, and fast enough to make you moan. 
“Baby”, you whimpered. 
“Yes?” 
“I want to ride you,” you choked out, and Seungcheol had to take a deep breath not to cum right then and there.
You whimpered as he pulled out and adjusted his position so he could lay on the bed and adjusted your position so Seungcheol could lay under you. He felt so good inside you. You lifted your legs and started moving your hips, riding him. You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he helped you ride him. 
“Fuck,” you cursed as you slowly sank onto his length. 
You wanted to see Seungcheol fall apart underneath you, you trailed your hands to his fingers, and your nails grazed his nipples, making him buck into you. You moaned as his hips pushed his cock deeper inside you. You kept riding him until you felt him still and released inside you. You moaned, feeling his warmth fill up your cunt.
“Fuck,” you gasped as he pushed two fingers into you. Seungcheol stood up slightly as he shoved his middle and ring finger into your cunt and hooked them there.
“Scream for me,” Seungcheol said as he vigorously pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt. He used his other hand to press down your pubic bone, holding you still as you thrashed about.
“Do you hear how wet you are?” Seungcheol asked as he kept fingering you. You whimpered in response, fisting the bed sheets between your hands and screaming as you came hard.
“Fuck. I can’t,” you choked out when you noticed he hadn’t stopped his movements.
 “Yes, you can. I know you can,” Seungcheol encouraged as he repeated his actions, making you squirt all over his hands.
You whimpered in his grip, pushing his forearm, and Seungcheol smiled as he pulled his fingers out of you.
“Fuck,” you breathed out. 
“Good?” Seungcheol asked. 
“Mhm, very,” you mumbled into his chest, making him smile. 
“Noo!” You whined when you felt him move, and Seungcheol swore his heart melted at that moment. 
“I need to clean you up,” Seungcheol said. 
“No, stay,” you whined making him laugh. 
“Please?” You asked and Seungcheol didn’t have the heart to deny you. 
“Fine, but not in this bed, it’s a little wet,” Seungcheol teased making you bury your head into his chest more. 
“Just hold onto me, and I’ll move you,” Seungcheol said as he carried you off the bed and into your bedroom, where he laid you down onto the bed, and used it as and excuse to quickly slip away and bring back a wet towel and gently clean you up. 
“Come here,” you whined holding your hands out for him. 
“Adorable,” Seungcheol cooed as he climbed into the bed, holding you in his arms as you both fell asleep. 
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The following morning you woke up with a dull ache between your thighs, and an empty bed. Before you could worry, you spotted a note on the bed. 
I’m outside, waiting for room service, I thought we could do with breakfast, also I took a shower and left a towel out for you too. 
-xx Cheol. 
You smiled as you read the note, and took his suggestion, and hopped, well hobbled into the shower. 
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You saw Seungcheol sitting on the couch and staring out the window when you entered the living room, you felt more awake after your shower. 
“Morning,” you greeted as you sat down next to him, and Seungcheol immediately turned around to face you, leaning forward to place a kiss on your lips. 
“Morning,” he mumbled against your lips.
“How are you?” Seungcheol asked. 
“Sore.” 
“I would apologise, but I don’t think you mind, do you?” Seungcheol teased. 
“Cheol!” 
“Okay, but as a dutiful boyfriend, I’ll make it up to you!” Seungcheol declared. 
You didn’t mind Seungcheol being your boyfriend, hell, you loved the idea, but it surprised you, and you were about to respond but a knock on the door stopped you. 
It was room service and for a few minutes you couldn’t say much. 
Once the servers left the room and Seungcheol ws setting up the plates you decided to speak. 
“Cheol. I like kitten.”
“Hm?” 
“I feel like as my boyfriend you should know what I like,” you said making him grin. 
“I like kitten, darling and sometimes baby,” you added. 
“What else do you like?” Seungcheol asked. 
“You.” 
“Oh? What a coincidence because I also like you.” 
587 notes · View notes
majimasleftasscheek · 4 months
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alright since RGG seems bent on putting merch behind things like UFO catcher shit, here's my crappy how to use a proxy guide lol
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gonna be using buyee as an example but most proxies are more or less the same so it's your choice on what to use. I look at fee prices and customer service reviews to decide on my proxies. sorry if it's wordy! but I think I cover the most important bits for general use.
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so on the landing page you got all the goobly gook but what you'll mainly be looking at is the stuff in the red box. all the shops are listed there - the ones I mainly use are yahoo! japan auctions and mercari. the other shops are more like regular shopping sites. pretty much all proxies use the same sites as they're just a directory for wherever you wanna shop.
auctions are self explanatory - you bid on things till the time runs out or some auctions offer an immediate buyout price.
mercari is largely a secondhand seller marketplace but you can find companies on there as well.
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when I search for stuff, I prefer putting in the actual terms for better accuracy over auto translating. so here I put in ryu ga gotoku (龍が如く). on buyee, I have rgg and dead souls as saved searches so I can just click on them to easily autofill the search bar which is handy.
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items will populate and you'll see prices in yen and for me, usd. these are the *listing prices, not the *final price. since I'm using a proxy, there will be additional fees per item I get. also, the currency exchange rate occasionally changes so if something goes up or down in price, that be why.
💥 pls also note prohibited items that proxies cannot ship internationally such as items with flammable fluid which can include perfumes, lighters, etc. other things like alcohol, which may be okay for like 99% of countries is not okay, for example, in the US lol unless you go thru customs paperwork n shit. *ebay is usually where you want to go for prohibited items as those sellers *will go thru the process of filing the proper forms to send such items.
💥 pls be aware of scalpers! I tend to browse multiple pages and multiple listings of the same item to see what the prices typically fall around. if it looks too cheap, be aware of an item's description. if it looks too expensive, it probably is.
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let's use this bad boy as an example. the main things you wanna look at on any item is the condition and the photos to be *sure* you are happy with what you're getting. if you see the same photos across listings, be a lil wary. you can see estimated shipping times and the seller's general ratings. always read item explanations if there is one in case the seller makes any notes of defects or other things.
you can add to shopping cart to keep browsing or you can go to the order page to immediately purchase.
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so proxies typically have different plans you can choose when you buy items and that adds towards the fees. these can include inspections, insurance, etc of items when they arrive at the proxy warehouse (see your proxy's FAQ for plan descriptions). it's up to you what you deem worth choosing, if at all. for most things, I just go with whatever costs me 0 lol - especially if it's a cheaper item that I really don't feel needs to be inspected or insured, like a plushie or keychain. regardless of plan, you'll have to pay some proxy service fee (here the "buyee service fee"). in the top right, you'll see the total cost of everything. once you're happy, then you pick your form of payment. I usually go with paypal.
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you can go to your page and see typical stuff like orders, settings, and the like. there's often specific tabs for certain sites like auctions so you can go there for anything you purchase in that way. the cart is anything you've added but haven't bought.
the orders tab is for anything bought and you may see the status of its shipping to the proxy warehouse which I'll get to in the next bit.
package information is everything that has arrived to the warehouse so here you can see I have 12 items currently waiting to be shipped to me.
user information, pretty basic but do MAKE SURE your addresses and things are 100% correct. it would really suck nuts if you pay out the ass for international shipping and it gets sent to the wrong place.
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on the orders tab, you can see the status of the item. it contains important bits like date ordered and order # (I've blotted out mine). order received is *you* paying for the order. order completed is *buyee* paying for the order. shipped means the seller has shipped to buyee's warehouse address and arrived at warehouse is self explanatory.
*sometimes, a seller may cancel an order after you've paid for it and you will be refunded. this is often due to the seller unable to actually send the item for whatever reason or they don't sell to proxies. nothing you can really do about it but I've only had it happen a couple of times in dozens of purchases.
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back to the package information tab, here you can see all the packages that have arrived at the warehouse waiting for shipment. proxies will store packages for free for a certain number of days - buyee being 30 while I've seen other go to 45 days, etc. after that time is up, you will be charged for storage per day so be aware of that!
here you can consolidate packages which means putting everything into one shipment instead of going individually. you can see estimated costs of shipping per item which, if you did each item individually, that would be mad expensive. when you consolidate, things can still be pretty pricey but imo better to pay idk 150 bucks in shipping for 10 items instead of 300 bucks for all 10 individually.
💥 shipping is calculated by weight so be aware of that when you buy items - however baseline costs will be the same for lighter items regardless of how much they weigh. baseline costs for me is around 15-30 bucks regardless of what I get. for example, I have a teeny tiny keychain in storage and several figures. the shipping for that keychain is the same cost as the figures so it's only sensible to lump them into one package cuz I ain't paying out the ass to ship 1 keychain lol.
you are free to consolidate what you want and how. if you wanna consolidate some packages to ship now and you wanna do others later, you are free to. just keep in mind your budget and storage time!
proxies also offer services to protectively wrap your packages. if you're concerned about damage, then choose that option when you consolidate. I don't often do it unless what I'm buying can break otherwise all my packages have arrived relatively unharmed.
💥 proxies will consolidate things AS IS so if you have a buncha figures that don't have their boxes, the proxy will put them in a shipping box just as they are, however they received them from the seller. so if the seller only bubble wrapped the figure, it will be sent to you just like that, no additional protection unless you pay for that option.
*consolidation can take some days and you'll be informed when items are ready to ship. at that point, you pay the shipping and that's it! you can choose what type of shipping you wanna go with (such as DHL, EMS, sea mail (if it's available), etc at differing prices and arrival times. pick what's best for you. *note, sea mail is often the cheapest but the slowest (like several months arrival time) and not available to every country (plus you'd want protective packaging for this just in case cuz boat rides be bumpy)
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here are some examples of shipping costs for a single one of my items. some of these options will disappear when I consolidate cuz shipping a lil figure is very different from shipping a larger box full of multiple things.
💥 be sure to read EVERYTHING and make sure you know what options you're choosing to make sure it fits your budget and expectations of arrival time.
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one more thing proxies can do is order from a number of sites that aren't on the main page. for buyee, you want to go to the other sites information tab and then click "purchase request for other sites."
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here you can input the information of whatever site you want to see if the proxy can purchase it for you. this is how I buy things on ebten like the jpn only preorders. if the proxy cannot buy the requested item, they'll let you know.
if they can go thru with the order, they will confirm your payment and it goes thru the same process as any other order.
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shemarmooresfedora · 2 years
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Bad Excuses & Blue Slushies
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Summary: After playing hard to get for so long, you finally agreed to go on a date with Steve. When he stands you up, he comes back with the strangest excuse as to why.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Content/Warning: no season 4 spoilers (season 3 spoilers though), fluff with some angst, swearing
Word Count: 2.9k
You hastily tied your red bandana around your neck as you ran into Starcourt Mall.
Your scuffed converse skidded along the tiled floor as you sprinted into Scoops Ahoy, headed to punch yourself in before you were late.
“I already punched you in,” Steve spoke from the register, handing change back to a customer.
“Thanks,” you heaved, hunched over and trying to catch your breath, “My. bike. broke. Had. to. run. over. 2. miles. in. this. stupid. fucking. uniform.”
Steve grinned, “Well, at least you still look as gorgeous as ever.”
“Ha-ha, very funny” you deadpanned, “I do a nice thing and agreed to cover Robin’s shift and this is how I’m repaid.”
“Wow, I’m hurt,” Steve clutched his chest in fake agony, “I pay you a compliment and I’m met with cold sarcasm.”
“Sorry if I find it very hard to believe that the Steve Harrington thinks a sweaty girl in an unflattering sailor’s costume is the epitome of beauty,” you retaliated.
“All the boxes on my dream girl checklist are ticked off,” Steve grinned, “What are you doing Friday night?”
“And how is that your business?” you inquired.
“Because I’m trying to ask you out,” Steve replied.
You let out an audible laugh, stifling it as a customer came into the shop.
“Ahoy there! What can I get for you today, matey?” you greeted them.
“Can I have a large chocolate overboard cone please?” the older woman ordered.
“Right away, ma’am,” you began scooping the ice cream.
“Come on,” Steve continued, “Give me one good reason you won’t go out with me on Friday.”
“Steve,” you chastised, “I’m with a customer.”
“She doesn’t mind. Do you?” Steve looked to the woman.
“Oh no, I’m loving this. Why won’t you go out with this hunk, sweetie?” she asked you.
“Steve, tell this woman where you were just last night?”
“On a date with Stacy Johnson,” he sighed.
“And two days before that?” you inquired.
“With Stephanie Williams but-”
You interrupted him, “I rest my case. $4.82, ma’am,” you handed her her ice cream.
“She makes a compelling case,” the lady handed you the money, “Have a good day, dears.”
“I can list more reasons if that’s not enough for you,” you grinned at Steve who scowled in return.
-
After cleaning up after the store had closed, Steve locked the doors as you waited for him.
“Until next shift, Harrington,” you waved goodbye to him as you entered the parking lot.
“Wait, your bike is broken,” he spoke.
“I’m aware,” you replied.
“Well, how are you getting home?” he continued.
“Walking, I guess. My parents aren’t home,” you shrugged.
“Let me give you a ride,” he offered.
“You live on the opposite end of town and we just worked a double, I’m sure you want to get home. I’ll be okay, really,” you assured him.
“I don’t feel comfortable letting you walk miles home in the dark. Just please get in,” he returned, opening the passenger side of his car
“Fine,” you sighed, getting in, “Thank you.”
Steve started the car and pulled out of the parking lot just before you added, “But if you try any funny business, I will snap your neck.”
Steve chuckled, “I’d expect nothing less.”
You rested your head against the window, completely exhausted after your shift. You hated to admit it but Steve was right. If you walked home alone in the dark, you probably would have fallen asleep in a ditch about half a mile in.
“Are you ready for the math test tomorrow?” Steve broke the relative silence of the car.
“I didn’t even know you knew I was in your class,” you snorted.
“Believe it or not, Y/N, I notice you,” Steve spoke.
You hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t believe it. Steve was popular, you were decidedly not. There’s simply no good reason he should have any interest in you whatsoever.
“To answer your question, no. I’m completely unprepared but I’m ready to wing it and hope for the best,” you responded.
“That's my strategy with everything in life,” Steve smiled.
He flicked on his blinker as he turned down your road.
“One chance, Y/N,” Steve spoke, “You go out with me Friday night and if it goes bad, I won’t ever bother you again. Deal?
“Why are you so hellbent on me going out with you? Have you seriously run out of all other options?”
“Is it really that hard to believe that I genuinely want to go out with you?” Steve asked, pulling into your driveway.
“Yes, very much so actually,” you spoke softly.
Steve put the car in park and turned to look at you, “I find you witty, intelligent, gorgeous, and overall remarkable. Yes, I do go on a lot of dates but that is because I’m trying to find the right girl for me. No one else makes me laugh like you do, Y/N. No one else could make me so excited to work an eight hour shift scooping ice cream in an overcrowded mall. Frankly, all the past girls don’t even hold a candle to you, Y/N. They’re boring and you’re so incredibly the opposite.”
You relented “Friday night?”
Steve smiled widely, “I’ll pick you up at 7.”
You opened the car door and slipped out of the seat, “I’m looking forward to being nowhere near how high your expectations of me are.”
Steve wholeheartedly laughed, “I’m looking forward to making you admit you actually had fun for once…and on a date with ‘the Steve Harrington’,” he quoted you.
“I’d. rather. die.” you grinned, “Good night, Steve.”
“Night, Y/N,” he waved and watched you until you were safe inside your house before pulling out into the road.
-
Friday night was finally here. You’d never admit it out loud but you were actually looking forward to hanging out with Steve. Even a bit nervous.
You doubted any of your normal wardrobe was suitable for a first date so you bought a sage green skirt at the mall after one of your shifts that week.
You paired it with a plain white tank top and your usual black high top converse (you couldn’t stray too far from who you really were).
You straightened your hair and almost poked yourself in the eye putting on mascara.
“Not too bad, Y/N,” you surveyed yourself in the mirror once you were finally ready.
You grabbed your purse and sat on the front steps of your house, waiting for Steve to arrive.
Ten minutes late was excusable, his hair routine was quite complicated and thorough.
Twenty minutes, maybe there was just really bad traffic.
Thirty minutes was pushing it.
You called it quits when the clock hit 8:01. If he tried to show up any later than this, you wouldn’t be going out with him regardless.
You sulked back inside and stripped off your outfit, trading it in for pajamas. You wiped off your makeup and put your hair up in a ponytail.
This is how your Friday night was supposed to go anyways, minus the crushing disappointment of being stood up.
You pulled a pint of ice cream out of the freezer and clicked on the TV, trying to distract yourself from the pain of rejection.
-
You woke up in the same spot on the couch the next morning, the TV still on and your empty ice cream carton sticking to the coffee table.
You had the opening shift at work today so you forced yourself to get up and change into that god-awful uniform.
Luckily, you managed to fix your bike so you could get to work on time.
However, that didn’t seem to matter because when you pulled into the parking lot, the mall was completely burnt to the ground.
You set your bike down on the sidewalk and ran up to a group of firefighters who were chatting.
“Excuse me?” you asked, “What happened?”
“We don’t know much of anything right now, sweetheart. Just that the whole place set ablaze last night. Two casualties,” he reported.
“May I ask who?” you gulped, suddenly concerned for Steve’s safety.
“Chief Hopper and Billy Hargrove,” he stated.
“That’s awful,” you shook your head in disbelief.
Sure, you weren’t really a big fan of Billy but you didn’t want him dead.
“You should get back home. I doubt you’ll be working for a while,” the firefighter turned back to his group.
You biked home, trying to process all this information. You must have zoned out and gone into autopilot because when you looked up from your handlebars, you were home.
Except there was a very unwelcome guest leaning against his car hood in your driveway, waiting for you.
His face was clearly swollen and bruised.
“Don’t you look pretty?” you quipped, hopping off your bike and pushing it up your driveway.
“Y/N, can we please talk?”
“Let me remind you of our deal, Harrington. I give you one chance and if it doesn’t go well, you won’t bother me ever again. Suffice to say, it didn’t go well. It didn’t go at all actually cause you didn’t fucking show up.”
“Yes but I have a really good excuse,” Steve countered.
“Try me.”
“I was kidnapped by Russians who have a secret laboratory under the mall,” Steve spoke like it wasn’t the most bizarre statement ever.
“Yeah, okay,” you laughed, “So when’s our next date?”
“Really?!”
“No, moron!” you snapped back, “Clearly, that’s so made up. If you’re going to lie, at least make it something believable. Or, just tell me the truth that you didn’t want to go on a date with me! Or even better, don’t ask me out just to mess with my feelings if you aren’t going to fucking show up,” you yelled.
You could feel the tears of frustration welling up in your eyes.
“Robin was there too! You can ask her,” Steve insisted, “Or Dustin. Dustin Henderson who comes into the shop all the time.”
“Sure thing, I’ll just ask your two best friends who would clearly lie for you and just believe every word they say,” you sarcastically replied.
“You have to believe me, Y/N. I seriously wouldn’t miss this date if this didn’t happen.”
“Please just go home and stop bothering me, Steve,” the tears started to roll down your cheeks, “Please.”
“Alright, I’ll go,” Steve relented, witnessing the pain he was putting you through, “Um, you have my number if you ever wanna call. I guess I won’t be seeing you at work for a while.”
“I think that’s for the best,” you sighed, wiping your eyes against your sleeve.
You turned to go inside and placed your hand on the doorknob.
“Is there any way I can make this up to you?” Steve called out.
“Not unless you can actually prove you’re telling the truth,” you spoke before heading inside and locking the door behind you.
-
“That’ll be $11.37, sir,” you slid the box of cigarettes and soda back across the counter.
The man handed you a twenty and you gave him his change before he returned back to his car at the gas pump.
Since the mall was still in ashes, maybe never to be rebuilt, you had to look for work elsewhere. You got a job at the gas station convenience store in town.
Despite not having to wear that stupid sailor uniform, you hated it more than Scoops Ahoy. It was lonely.
You wished the mall hadn’t burnt down. You wish you could still be scooping ice cream with Steve. And you wish he hadn’t stood you up so you could still hang out with him.
I mean you technically still could, but your pride wouldn’t allow you to go crawling back to him, only to be most likely stood up again.
A familiar maroon BMW pulled into the gas station. Great.
The bell chimed above the door, meaning he had entered but you kept your head down.
You heard his footsteps stop when he realized it was you behind the counter.
He cleared his throat, “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Got to make money somehow,” you replied.
“Twenty dollars on pump two,” he slid a twenty across the table.
“That all?” you asked.
“Add a large blue slushie and M&M’s too please,” Steve pulled out another five from his wallet before heading to fill his cup.
You handed him back his change as he set the cup back down at the counter. He pocketed the change and began to leave.
“Um, you’re forgetting your stuff,” you gestured to the counter in confusion.
“Oh, those are for you. They’re your favorites, right?”
“Yeah, they are. Um, thanks, I guess.”
“When does your shift end?” Steve asked.
You glanced at the clock, “An hour and twenty minutes.”
“Do you mind if I bother you once last time tonight?”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt, I’m already bored out of my mind. I’m literally counting holes in the wall at this point.”
“Okay, stay right there,” Steve spoke, “I’ll be back in 30.”
“It’s my job. I’m kinda stuck here,” you smiled ever so slightly.
“Right,” Steve remembered, “That was stupid. Anyways, I’ll be right back.”
You watched Steve run out to his car and swiftly pull out of the gas station.
“He forgot to get his gas,” you laughed to yourself as you refunded his money.
-
As promised, Steve was back in 27 minutes and 42 seconds. No, you weren’t counting.
He was followed into the store by a young girl who had her arms crossed.
“This is Erica Sinclair,” he introduced her to you.
“Um, hello,” you waved to her.
“Tell Y/N how you feel about me,” he prompted her.
“He’s a nerd who spends way too much time on his hair. He’s not very bright which might explain why the majority of his friends are like five years younger than him. And he wasn’t even that good scooping ice cream,” Erica sassed.
“So you agree she doesn’t like me?” Steve looked to you as you stifled a laugh.
“Yeah, I would say so,” you replied, giving Erica a high-five.
“Erica, what happened on the night of Friday, July 4th?” Steve asked her.
“I had to go through this tunnel in the ceiling at the mall because I was bribed with free cream for life. But then, we discovered this secret elevator and the older kids got captured. Basically long story short, we saved their asses from evil Russians who were trying to open up this portal thingy.”
“How do I know you’re not paying her to say whatever you want?” you asked.
“Oh, I’m being paid to come here,” Erica answered, “Erica does nothing for free. But I wouldn’t lie on this guy’s behalf just to get him a girlfriend who is way out of his league.”
“Okay, that’s enough from you,” Steve handed her a twenty, “Please go wait in the car.”
Erica happily skipped outside.
“I can’t say I believe it but I guess I’ll just have to trust you on this,” you spoke.
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”
“Should I not be?” you questioned.
“No, you definitely should be. I’m 100% telling you the truth here,” he answered sincerely.
The more that you thought about it, it was way too crazy of a story to make up as an excuse. Plus, that would explain the bruises all over his face that morning. And the reason for the mall fire was still a mystery so you couldn’t exactly disprove him.
“One more chance, Harrington. I’m serious. No excuses this time, not even evil Russians.”
“Yes, thank you! I promise you won’t regret it,” he smiled widely.
“I really don’t know why this was worth all your trouble. A date with me already cost you twenty bucks in bribe money.”
“Worth every single penny,” Steve replied.
You just stared at him. How was he so damn charming all the time? You hated it. That was a lie. You were a sucker for it.
Your eyes flickered down to his lips. He noticed and smirked.
“Do you want to kiss the Steve Harrington, Y/N?” he spoke smugly, leaning over the counter.
“Nope.”
Such a lie.
“That’s a real shame cause I really want to kiss you,” he answered.
You blushed, finally giving in and leaning to meet him halfway. It was gentle and deliberate, as if he was scared one wrong move would have you disappear from his life again.
His hands came up to cup your cheeks, his fingers tangling in your hair. He tasted like peppermint gum and cherry chapstick.
When he pulled away, you felt like you were floating. Your lips tingled with a fuzzy sensation.
He leaned his forehead up against yours, “I have to bring Erica home before her bedtime. Lucas is covering for her.”
“Don’t forget to actually get your gas on the way out this time,” you whispered, smiling.
“Give me another blue slushie. I think they’re my favorite now too,” he grinned.
A/N: sorry if you were expecting a spencer reid fic lol. i tried writing for a different character, i would love to know what you thought <3
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zombholic · 7 months
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| 𝐃𝐑. 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 |
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“dude i swear i will get on my knees for that woman!” you rolled over on your best friends, dina’s bed as she passed you a blunt, taking a hit before passing it back to the dark haired girl sitting against her bed on the floor.
“you saw her two times y/nn” she shook her head looking at the blunt before looking at you. “ok but listen, she is like ethereal dude, i’d gobble her-“ “and you’re done speaking, go to sleep you have work tomorrow” you almost puked at the thought of work.
dina rolled you over to the wall side as she got under the covers “i should have a heart attack and then you can take me and ask for her” “go to bed y/n!”
hearing your stupid alarm go off, dina took it upon herself to grab your ankles and drag you off her very comfortable bed “i’m going to put you in my 13th record” you rubbed your face before getting up to her bathroom “love you!”
you were only a little happy today because it was pay day so you decided to be nice to the annoying customers as well. “have a great day ma’am” you gave the most fake smile to the customer, flipping her off when she left “no sign of doctor goddess this morning?” jesse walks in to start his closing shift.
“she’s the only reason i’m even here right now, can’t believe this is how she breaks up with me” you fake a sad sign, shaking your head at him causing him to chuckle at your attitude.
quickly going around the counter to help jesse clean up for his shift you started by wiping down the tables, the bell to the door chimes, leaving the rag and spray bottle on the dirty table, you saw abby. “hey doctor” you walked back to the register, throwing the latex gloves in the trash, giving her a smile. “hey sweetheart” the nickname giving you a tingly feeling in your stomach.
“the usual? and why so late?” you started with brewing the coffee “night shift and can you make that 4 please, my co-workers need it too” she sighed giving you the sweetest smile.
i want you to fuc-
nodding at her request you grabbed a couple more cups and a cup holder “so as a doctor do you get like any days off? it seems so like exhausting” you tilted your head looking at her “well, because i am a very needed doctor in the field i get at least a month or two off for vacation but on my days off i need to have my pager on me always” she shows you the little black box on her pocket.
you feel jesse “accidentally” bump into you with a sorry ass apologize and a cough, giving to the look. “so um, i was wondering if i could like maybe get your number?” you held your breath, fiddling with your fingers only giving her minimal eye contact. abby pulls her phone out, handing it over to you “why not” she maintains her eye contact.
quickly adding your contact in her phone you gave it back to her, giving yourself a fist bump in your head “you know like incase i have a heart attack or something and need to call for help” you joked biting the inside of your cheek out of a nervous habit “i hope you never have a heart attack sweet thing and i really hope you call the ambulance first” she laughed.
giving her the coffees you gave her a small bye “i’ll text you on my break, if you’re awake by then?” she gave you a flashing smile before walking out.
“holy shit! you got her number” jesse patted your back “holy fucking shit! i like almost shit myself, im gonna pass out” you inhaled deeply after holding your breath for so long “can i be the maid of honor” he wiggled his brows at you with a stupid smirk on his face “you can sit in the back with the grass.”
getting out the shower you started getting ready for bed, not to sleep cause tomorrow is your day off but you wanted to just chill and watch the vampire diaries.
buzz buzz
grabbing your phone you see a number text, your heart racing knowing it’s literally the love of your life texting.
Hello, it’s Abby from the coffee shop.
omg hey! didnt think u would text me
Of course I would, why wouldn’t I?
i mean, you are a busy heart doctor so i assumed you would be too busy 😭
Why are you crying?
crying? no abs it’s supposed to be me laughing LOL
Oh, well I still have a lot to learn.
you’re literally adorable, are you off tomorrow?
During the day, yes, but I have another night shift. Why?
do you maybe want to go out for lunch or something?
Of course, I would love to.
What time and which restaurant?
you can pick that for us, im down for anything :)
How about 12pm at Vue Rooftop?
oh that sounds fancy and i probably can’t afford it 🥲
Sweetheart, who said you were going to pay for anything in the first place? It’s my treat.
no, i cant let you pay for me thats not fair on you
It’s a date Y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow. I have to get back to work now, Goodnight beautiful.
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AUTHORS NOTE: yeah i have adhd and i am making part 3 already … EHEHEHEH
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httpsserene · 6 months
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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥
𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟳: 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗲 𝗴𝗮𝘀𝗹𝘆 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗳𝘁
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📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a cute little shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work.  📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. not beta read. witchcraft. familiars. cunnilngus. aphrodisiacs. inherent dubcon. vaginal sex. unsafe sex. sudden orgasm? desperation. coming inside. vague structure and explanation of magic. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: pierre gasly x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: need to know • doja cat
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: inspired by amortentia. what can i say at every fanfic writer's core, they’ve read an unhealthy amount of hp ff’s, i don’t make up the rules. we know pierre is a fiend, but uh, i do not even feel like i truly tapped into his true unhinged power with this. n joy, loves !!!
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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss
to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!
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the shop has been open for fifty-five minutes and it’s already been overwhelmed by desperate humans. valentine’s day is tomorrow; and every naive soul is scrambling to get a love charm or potion. the problem with that is: there’s no magic spell or potion able to mirror true love. however, nobody coming into the shop appreciates that answer. 
after the third time a customer hysterically screamed at you for saying there’s no such thing as a ‘love spell,’ you made a slight tweak to the doorbell. now, every time the door opens a bass-boosted audio of you screaming, “LOVE POTIONS, CHARMS, OR SPELLS DO NOT EXIST” echoed through the shop. unfortunately, that message did not seem to help. you had to change the way you welcomed customers when they stepped up to the counter.
“good morning! welcome in to runes and brews; if you’re looking for a spell of true love, it doesn’t exist. nor does a potion or charm. the most i can offer is a hyperfixation charm, which makes the subject pay more attention to you for twelve hours. this charm doesn’t affect their emotions, you still have to make them attracted to you with your, hopefully, natural charm. are you interested in one, they’re buy-one-get-one free for valentine’s day?”
your customer service grimace smile is stained across your lips as you parrot the same words to each customer. you’ve become an npc. the customers try to interrupt your spiel, but you act as if it’s a piece of unskippable dialogue. if they’re going to come here and harass you over their inability to rizz somebody up—they’re sure as hell going to listen when you speak. at this point, you’ve adopted the ‘it is what it is’ mentality. you’re selling a record number of hyper-fixation charms, you think you might run out of your entire supply hours before the store closes. 
at first, you felt a little guilty about selling these charms to the desperate souls. all they want is true love and you can only offer a temporary fix. but after you’ve been screamed at countless times for telling these non-magiques that you can’t supply them with what they’re asking for, the guilt quickly transforms to ‘idgaf.’ with a twitching eye, you kindly told the customers inside the store to wait just a few seconds while you adjusted the door’s charm. 
you grab the outer doorknob with a hand covered in lapis powder, and imbue it with your aura to edit the current protection spell. thankfully, you remembered to meditate this morning, so casting comes easily. you breathe deeply, before releasing the handle and you make your way back towards the customers. and suddenly, the amount of people entering the shop decreases dramatically.
you have such a manic grin on your face that the customers inside the building stare at you in mild terror. one of the humans swallows their fear, and asks the question they’re all afraid to hear the answer to, “w-what did you do to the uh- to the d-door?”
the lights brighten around you as your grin grows larger, and you nonchalantly answer, “the door reads your intentions before you step inside. if a customer plans to come in and harass me over what is magically impossible, they get cursed.”
the humans gasp in fear, and you’re eyes widen in realization, “oh! no-no, don’t worry, it’s nothing bad! it’s just a floating rose that screams out ‘i have no rizz’ to every person they talk to for the next forty-eight hours. they’ve ruined their own valentine’s day with their terrible manners,” you state proudly.
the mass of customers inside thins out pretty quickly after that. 
thankfully, the door charm seems to do the trick with keeping out unruly folks. you’re able to start working on requests from your usual customers—the barkeep needs her rune for a bottomless keg replenished, the butcher needs his new set of utensils charmed with sharpness, the baker’s assistant needs your help working on the heating charm for the warming-tables, and so on and so forth. you get a new vampire customer today, requesting a sunshade potion—they indulge in telling you that they’re planning to spend valentine’s day outside with their human partner as a surprise. you coo at the vampire adorably as you check them out, and you see their cheeks faintly tint with pink—they must have fed recently. this is why being open for valentine’s day is worth it to you; customers like this remind you that true love still exists.
you wish him luck with his surprise, and hand over the potion, which was made by your true love, pierre. who was supposed to be helping you in the shop about thirty minutes ago. he claimed to have to run out and get a few extra supplies to be able to fulfill all of his orders, but that he’d be back before the shop opened. when he shows his face, the true love between you two may not exist anymore. because you’re going to kill him for hanging you out to dry. you sigh, and make your way into the back storage closet to get a fresh box of dried peonies for the new batch of hyperfixation charms, when you hear the doorbell scream the warning message.
you call-out, “give me one moment and i’ll be right up to help you out! feel free to look around in the meantime!” you summon the box of peonies forward, and spell it to float after you as you make your way out.
turning the corner, you automatically begin your npc introduction, “good morning! welcome in to runes and brews; if you’re looking for a spell of true love, it doesn’t exist. nor does a potion or charm. the most i can offer is a hyperfixation charm—oh, it’s just you—ohmygod—how did you pick up my door curse??”
pierre stares at you in a mixture of bewilderment and amusement, as the rose screams “I HAVE NO RIZZ,” at you. you can only laugh, and summon your phone to your hand to take a video. pierre laughs in reflex, still not sure what’s going on, and suddenly he’s being climbed over like a cat tree by your familiar.
“aha!” you exclaim. “i’ve been looking for you all day, ma’am. what pocket of the universe were you hiding in? you always disappear when the non-magiques come around instead of defending me, cat. what kind of familiar are you?”
pierre struggles to wrangle cat off of his head from where she’s fucking up the rose hanging over him. he side-eyes you heavily when he still sees you recording the whole interaction, and you put the phone down before you step over to get cat off of his head. “madame catalytic converter!” you yell with the force of your ancestors.
yes, you named your familiar catalytic converter, cat for short. it makes perfect sense, she improves your efficiency and decreases the chance for any harmful side-effects when you do magic; just like the car part. pierre says that’s why she never listens to you, for giving her a terrible name. when you asked him what he would’ve named her, he said, “probably, escargot, or something.” you said that’s probably why she hates him more. 
you remove the curse from pierre with a quick touch of your hand to his forehead, and the rose poofs away. madame catalytic converter, hops away quickly, uninterested in either of you again, and struts away to sit on top of the box of peonies you brought up. you narrow your eyes at your familiar, “oh—so you’re not even going to explain yourself? where were you?”
cat stares at you dead in the eyes, before she looks away and starts licking her calico fur clean, dismissing you. you scoff, rolling your eyes, and turn to pierre, “and where were you, monsieur?” you ask, poking a finger to his chest. 
pierre presses a kisses to your cheek in greeting, and raises the one bag he has in his hand as part of his answer, “i told you i was running errands, remember?”
you purse your lips at him, and he smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your waist to try and pull you in for a kiss. you smack your teeth disapprovingly, gripping his jaw with your hand, and holding him back, “yeah, you told me you were getting extra supplies. plural. and, that you’d be back in time to open the shop.”
pierre avoids your eyes, chuckling anxiously. 
“i’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but, you’ve only come back with one item, and it’s well past the time the shop opened,” you pause, letting pierre simmer, “explain yourself.”
“okaysoilied,” pierre rushes out, and you hum in shock sarcastically, gesturing for him to continue, “but—but! mon amour, i’ve come back with something that could potentially level up my potion making skills!”
you stare at him unamused, “oh ok—well, show me, what is this wonderful thing?”
pierre shifts on his feet, and you are suddenly afraid to know what he’s bought. if his confidence is faltering, you know whatever’s in that bag cannot be good. 
“so, you remember how people were saying the potion shop a few towns over has actual love potions,” pierre starts eagerly, you nod in resignation, already knowing where this is going, “i bought one! well, two actually. i tried to bug the potion maker into telling me what he put in it, but he was so shifty about it. which is completely understandable, if i made a new potion as great as this, i wouldn’t tell anybody my secrets either.”
“okay, pierre,” you sigh, rubbing a hand across your face, disappointed, “why did you buy two of them?”
“oh,” pierre begins, his usual ludicrous smirk returning to his expression, “one for me to study, and one for me to take! the best way to see if it works is to test it out myself.”
you tug his hand off your waist, and step away from him, pointing at him in vindication, “that’s why my curse worked on you! you’re harassing me with this goddamn love-potion shit—you snake, we both know it’s not real!”
pierre groans, following after you as you storm back to the front counter, the peony box floating over as well, cat yowling at the sudden movement. 
“oh, come on, mon amour,” pierre pleads, brandishing the love potion at you, “where is your hunger for magical breakthroughs? aren’t you curious to learn how it works?”
“pierre, babe, it doesn’t work! that’s why i don’t care! and, why would it work on you? we’re already a true love’s match. we’re soul-tied!”
“so, there’s no harm in me taking it,” pierre claims, like he’s found a loophole. 
“pierre, you shouldn’t,” you warn him. the potions master deflates at your words, and you sigh at the sight of his point. you take a few steps to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss, and your aura swells with pierre’s love passing to you.
“if you do end up taking it, which you probably will anyways, at least take the time to properly study it. you don’t know if they’re any weird side effects,” pierre perks up, his blue-green eyes losing their saddened look immediately. he happily presses a few more kisses to your lips, and pulls away before pressing a kiss to your hand.
“i will! i’m going to go to the back now and start studying it—“
“uhm, no you are not! you still have to help me run this store, sir! i have plenty of things for you to do. starting with cleaning our cauldrons!”
pierre groans in disgust and whines like a child, “mon amour! please, you know i hate doing that. you can do it with a snap of your fingers, why do i have to do it with manual labor?”
you arch a sharp brow at him, and gently remind him of his behavior, “you shouldn’t have lied to me then, hm?” pierre sulks, and moves towards the back to get started on cleaning the cauldrons.
“don’t look so sad—i could’ve had you collecting the eyes of spiders!”
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pierre cringes when he accidentally slams the drawer of his desk closed, pausing cautiously to listen for any movement in the house. it’s late, and you’ve gone to bed hours ago; he’s stayed up trying to identify what exactly this so-called love potion is made out of, and what order of processes it was created with. the frenchman is certain that there are at least seven ingredients in the brew: mature peonies, smashed pearls, crushed dates, powdered rose thorns, rose water, and a potion base of moonstone and lapis. it’s odd, because to pierre the potion smells like warmed vanilla, shea butter, a dash of espresso, and a brush of peppermint—but with every extraction he makes from the potion, there’s no sign of those ingredients. in addition to that mystery, he can tell that this potion took a few weeks to prepare and that it needed constant stirring. he can figure out when ingredients were added to the potion based on how much affect the cooking and heat had on them; the dates and pearls were first, followed by the rose thorns, and it seems like the peonies were added last—he just can’t figure out how they were integrated in the brew. were they added in batches, all at once, did they need changes in stirring motion, etc.. 
putting aside all the unknowns, there is one thing that pierre is sure of: none of the ingredient combinations in this potion would cause any harmful side effects. the powdered rose thorns and crushed pearls are a rare sight in potions but, they create the base of hyperfixation charms and he hasn’t heard of any reports of strange or harmful reactions from these two ingredients. so, the only responsible option for the potions master is to drink the concoction and see if it lives up to be the ‘true love’ potion everyone is claiming it to be.
pierre knocks the draft back quickly and hums pleasantly at the taste, a curious eyebrow raised at how it doesn’t mirror the scent at all. the flavor is sweet and tangy, with a lingering dash of saltiness—it’s delicious. he finds himself wishing he didn’t waste the first potion with experiments so he could taste it again. 
the potions master rocks back and forth on his feet impatiently, he expected the brew to take immediate effect, alas, he feels nothing. pierre shrugs, the potion may take longer to kick in if it’s replicating one of the strongest emotions. he leaves his study and makes his way to the bedroom, and right before he enters the bedroom, he stumbles over cat. your familiar looks at him reproachfully, before she pauses and comes over to sniff at pierre. in the dark, he can see the calico’s eyes shrink into pupils and suddenly she hisses up at him, before she apparates into thin air. pierre scratches at his scalp in a confused manner; cat hissing at him and then disappearing, is not out of the ordinary (it reminds him of the you first brought him home and he tried to charm her with a laser pointer—the familiar stared at pierre like he disparaged her family name), he doesn’t know if that was a reaction just because of him, or if it was a reaction to the potion. 
he continues with his usual nightly routine before he joins you in bed, dressed in a pair of old sweatpants alone. you pout in your sleep, pierre can feel your aura calling to him, unhappy that he’s not curled up against you. he tucks you into his chest when he settled comfortably on his back. he feels your magic calm, the air relaxing when the force of your influence fades. 
the potions master tries to stay up for as long as he can to see if he notices an effect from the brew, but deflates when he doesn’t feel any changes. he knows the chances of this potion working was slim to none, however, he kind of hoped it at least had some effect on him. pierre’s eyes flutter shut as he drifts to sleep, and his last conscious thought is that you were probably right, the potion may not have an effect on true love’s matches.
you squirm awake. it’s boiling hot under the sheets and it shouldn’t be, you placed a cooling charm on the bed. as the fog of sleep unfortunately fades from your mind, you notice that the heat is radiating from pierre. turning around in worry and slight annoyance, you check in on your boyfriend, and the annoyance disappears when you examine his state.
he’s still asleep, but he’s drenched in sweat. his brow is furrowed in what must be pain, and his body squirms across the bed in discomfort. you press a hand to his forehead and hiss at the burning heat from his skin. you groan, already knowing what happened to your dumb potions master—he should be stripped of his title after this. he was working on the damn potion before you went to bed, and he fucking drank it, ignoring your warning, and now, he’s suffering the consequences. you take the same hand that was on his head, and bring it to his shoulder to gently shake him awake. pierre, on the other hand, awakens dramatically, jackknifing upright like you’ve poured water all over him.
the man pants desperately, chest heaving with his stuttering breaths, tongue swiping at his upper lip to clear the sweat gathering there, his teal irises swallowed by enlarged pupils, and his hair is matted and curling against his forehead from the mixture of sweat and heat. his eyes are glazed over, you can tell he’s not quite aware of what’s going on—that’s probably thanks to the incredible fever he’s running—but there’s a hidden glint to them that you can’t puzzle out. 
“oh, pierre,” you lean forward, hands coming to grasp at the sides of his face, steadying him, “you fucked around and found out, didn’t you? there’s no chance you’re capable of telling me the antidote to this, it seems. maybe a spell can alleviate the effects briefly enough…”. as you ramble on, mostly to yourself, you fail to see the look in pierre’s eyes change. the hidden intentions you weren’t able to make out are as clear as day now. the haze over his stare is still present, but the confusion has disappeared. only hunger remains.
you startle when pierre’s trembling hands grasp at your waist. you quirk a brow at him in question, but don’t receive an answer, a verbal one at least. you’re suddenly knocked flat on your back and pierre bodily shoves himself between your legs, hovering over you. and the intense look in his eyes is made aware to you; you’ve seen it before, but it’s never felt this ravenous. you press your eyelids closed and whimper under your breath at your revelation: the ‘true love’ potion is a fucking aphrosodiac.
pierre is so hot. he feels his body shivering dramatically as he holds himself on his hands above you. his muscles weaken from the strain of the fever, and he collapses on top of you. his head lands in the valley of your neck, and he moans at the cooling feeling of your brown skin against his face—he needs more of it, he needs you naked. reinvigorated, pierre attempts to wrangle your clothes off, but he’s unable to do much with his shaky limbs. he begins to anger when your sleep shirt fails to disappear, and tries to rip it down the center. you force his hands away, and tug the shirt up and away before tossing it aside, leaving you in just panties. his anger dissipates, and he presses his body against yours again, and a choked groan escapes him at the relief your naked torso gives him, he goes boneless. 
the relief lasts for less than a minute, before he starts squirming desperately again—he needs to be closer to you. he suckles marks into your neck, moaning lewdly when he feels your hand tangle in his hair, pulling at it firmly. he fights your grasp, unsatisfied with his unfinished claim on your neck and chest, but he submits when he notices you’re guiding him to your lips. 
the meeting of your lips is messy, he can’t manage to find any of his usual finesse. he pants into your mouth in between sloppy, wet kisses, if you can even call them that. his tongue fights against yours, and his hips buck forward at the feeling, which reminds him of the fact that he still has sweatpants on and you have on panties. pierre jerks away, resisting the urge to continue kissing you when you whine out for him so prettily, chest arching upwards, nipples perky and egging him to bite, the bruises on your neck blossoming with reds and purples—he shakes his head erratically, and focuses enough to tug his sweatpants off; he’s never been so happy that he’s not wearing underwear. the skin contact must have done him well, because his hands aren’t shaking anymore as they grasp at your panties. he may not have torn apart your shirt, but the cotton undergarment doesn’t stand a chance, he rips through it like water.
the sound of your shriek at his actions is muted in his ears, and he barely registers the feeling of you shoving at his shoulder in irritation. pierre can only see your pussy. a broken whimper escapes him as he stares; his eyes tunnel to your throbbing hooded clit, the way your entrances tightens and relaxes, like you’re taunting him to fill you up, and you’re soaked for him, lips shining with your wetness—he should just get a brief taste, before he fucks you. he lays between your legs, hands coming around to grip at your thighs to firmly hold you against his mouth, and he’s eating you out like he’s never had a meal before.
the potions master vaguely hears a pleasure-filled scream burst from your chest as he broadly strokes of his tongue against your vulva to collect any wetness you’ve spilled. he muffles his moan into your pussy at the taste, and shifts downward to prod his tongue inside of you to coax more of your juices out. he feels your hips try to buck him off of you, and he growls into you, tightening his grip on your thighs to allow you no escape. you leak steadily into his mouth, even as you try to run from the constant barrage of his lips, tongue, and teeth. pierre’s brow furrows with the effort he puts into eating you out—your taste is addicting. it’s a mouthwatering combination of sweet and tangy, with lingering saltiness. he has a small lapse of deja-vu at your flavor, but it’s quickly dismissed at the drag of his cock against the bed. 
pierre whimpers into you at the pleasure flaring behind his eyelids, as he begins to hump against the bed. he switches from forcing his tongue inside of you and moves his attention to your clit, suckling and twirling his tongue on the button. it sounds like he’s making out with your cunt. your thighs to clamp shut around his head, your hand scrambles to tug at his hair and hold him exactly where you want him, and you start rubbing your pussy against him. fuck, how did he not realize how hard he is. pierre sobs into your pussy overwhelmed, he wants to keep eating you out, and the friction of his cock against the bed feels so good. he knows being inside of you would be better.
the frenchman breaks free from the grasp of your legs, and scrambles back upwards, not giving you time to register the change in position before he breaches your entrance. when the head of his cock pops inside of you, he throws his head back and moans erotically at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. he starts to burn hotter. pierre struggles to hold-off from thrusting into you in one smooth motion—he’s usually cautious when he fucks into you for the first time because he’s well aware of his size and how you struggle to take it all in one sitting. he whimpers hotly, and picks his head up to look at you—and all sense of waiting for you to adjust leaves him head. a line of drool has slid down your cheek, your eyes have rolled back in pleasure, and the sounds of your squeals of pleasure from just the tip of his cock break his restraint.
the man drives his cock deep inside of you in one smooth thrust, and he shudders on top of you, humming in satisfaction at the pulsing grasp of your cunt. pierre feels how he forced the air out of your lungs, your corresponding scream still rattling in his eardrums, but he can’t help how he grinds his cock into you, one, two, three times. he groans out, and starts making proper thrusts into you—he needs to fuck you properly. one of your hands sneaks between your joined bodies and presses at his navel in a weak attempt to halt his movements. pierre knocks it out of the way, before he brings both of his hands to tighten on your waist and starts fucking you with a purpose. it’s selfish and dirty; in a way pierre usually isn’t. he uses himself as a tool to make you cum first all of the time, but you can tell tonight, this is all about him—your orgasm is just a byproduct. he gathers you up in his arms, making sure there’s no gap of air in between you, and starts pumping his hips into you deeply, not pulling out of you any more than a few centimeters.
it’s feels so pleasurable that it could be torture. he’s applying pressure against that spongy spot on your walls so consistently, that you’re legs have already started shaking. he’s fucking you up the bed with the force of his thrust, and he’s conscious enough to place a hand on the headboard to make sure he doesn’t shove you up to hit your head. pierre’s making these sweet, whiny, whimpers, that he attempts to muffle into your neck as he feels himself start pulsating inside of you, dancing along the edge. he feels your nails claw into his back, and it’s like his senses are suddenly returned to full strength from where they were clogged with fuzz. he can hear you try and moan out for him, but his thrusts are so powerful that you keep choking on your words.
he catches the ending of your warning, “pierre-oh—m’ gonna cum! oh, fuck!”
the clenching of your orgasm pushes him into his own, and it’s the most intense crash of pleasure he’s ever felt. his vision whites out and it feels painful in a way only too much pleasure can give. his whole body shakes through each wave of pleasure, and he feels lightheaded at the feeling. pierre can’t even do anything more than jerk his hips forward to pump through the aftershocks, he falls limp on top of you, pinning you under him. his skin feels raw and blown open, and there’s a ringing noise in his ears. he whimpers against your neck, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, and then he’s pretty sure he faints for a few minutes.
when he comes back to the present, you’re humming underneath him, hands rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion. pierre brokenly moans against your throat, oversensitive. you shush him, and scratch at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes but won’t admit to. his breaths slowly even out against your skin, and in a croaky voice he starts talking, “the potion—it smelled like the shea butter of your lotion, the vanilla and coffee of your perfume, and the peppermint of your aura.”
you pause in your motions, and softly ask, “really?”
pierre shifts, hissing at the jostling of his cock still inside of you, and settles again, raising his head up to make lazy eye contact with you, “yeah,” he whispers quietly, before carefully pulling out of you and falling onto his stomach next to you.
you nuzzle up to his side and press kisses against his shoulder, before you offhandedly mention that his fever’s gone down. pierre’s fighting the call of sleep, and mumbles something into the pillow that you can’t make out, and he turns his head to the side so you can hear him, “i dunno how, mon amour, but it tasted like you too.”
you stare at him with wide eyes, neither of you are aware of an aphrodisiac of this caliber. pierre falls asleep, and you close your eyes in a quick prayer—this potion better have run its course, you won’t survive another round of that.
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© httpsserene 2023
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piichuu · 8 months
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♡ BACK HUGS - JEAN KIRSCHTEIN
NOTES: fluff, gn!reader
WORD COUNT: 359
AUGUST DRABBLES
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the supermarket is packed with people on this rainy saturday. many are free from work and school, causing them to take their time and go grocery shopping, just like you and jean who weren’t expecting this many people in the same supermarket that is so often quiet and empty.
you two are currently standing in a long line after have picked up a few things you need for future lunches and dinners, together with some snacks and drinks.
even though there are plenty of cashiers out, the lines are still longer than usual and it takes plenty of time to move even a few steps as many have bought weekly groceries. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen this many people here before,” you mumble while leaning against jean who’s holding the basket with all the groceries you’ve gotten.
he nods in agreement and watches as the cashiers are doing their best to scan the items their customers are handing them. “it’s probably because it’s raining, they have nothing else to do,” he says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek before he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder as he’s standing behind you.
“do you want me to hold the basket?” you ask but he shakes his head, only pulling you closer to him. “no, it’s okay. it should only take five more minutes or so until it’s our turn,” he mumbles with a smile playing at his lips.
you put your hands on his arms and relax in his warm embrace. he keeps holding you like this, even as you have to take a few steps forward as yet another person has payed for their newly bought groceries. “are you doing okay? you aren’t too overwhelmed with the amount of people?” jean asks as his lips brushes against your cheek.
“i’m fine, we’ll be out of here soon anyway,” you turn your head a little so you’re face to face with him, reflecting the small smile he’s wearing. “that’s good, it shouldn’t take too long for our turn now, darling,” he whispers before leaning in to kiss your lips.
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Okay i lied , im not cutting off yandere sources cause i need Yves to cope with the high stress.
So here's some Yves content at the supermarket
Yves pays close attention to how and where your eyes linger at. Especially at grocery or other retail stores where there are a wide variety of objects. He notes down what catches your attention first, next and last, what caused you to do a double take and for how long. What colour, what texture, what shape and etcetera etcetera. He keeps count and remembers the sequences too.
It's fascinating, your habits change depending on the lighting, temperature, humidity, atmospheric pressure, smell and loudness of the area. Even the feeling of the flooring beneath your shoes would affect the duration you're willing to look at a product.
Yves would pretend to check the nutritional information of an item that claims to be "healthy" and "organic". But in actuality, he's watching you; do not underestimate his peripheral vision, it's almost as if he has eyes on the back of his head.
He would get a small rush of excitement whenever he predicts your next move successfully, shock and slightly more delightful when he's wrong; because that means he has discovered something new about you and must document his findings immediately.
How strange, you're exhibiting signs of under stimulation despite the fact that supermarkets usually fulfill your sensory needs, most of the time, overloading you. So Yves peruses the aisles even more, letting his heels clack against the tiled floors, pushing the shopping cart slowly and observing if the extra disturbances around you will do anything to your predicament.
But no, you're still uncomfortable. How interesting, how can Yves help you? He's dying to know, but he must run multiple tests discretely to find out.
However, before he could proceed, you walked up to him and stared at Yves in the eyes.
He replaced the can of diced tomatoes back onto the metal shelf before peering down at you. Yves intentionally chose to wear one of his taller heels to create that subconscious "guardian" role, making him ridiculously tall.
"Yes, dear?" He asked, bringing his fingers to your hair, gently brushing them away from your face. This seems to improve your mood, it made his heart skip a beat when he realized that you were craving for his touch.
You told him that it's nothing, you just wanted to see him.
Now that's not true, you wanted more but you're too shy and nervous to outright ask for it.
Yves smiled, softly coaxing you closer to his side, which made you automatically cling onto him and bury your head in his torso. Yves stroked your back rhythmically up and down.
While he lets you recharge in the side hug, Yves uses a free hand to inspect more canned items, he also likes guessing what additives might be added into each product and how much of each nutrient does it contain.
It's impressive how his brain works like a supercomputer with trillions of servers, his eyes, nose, ears, skin and tongue work as the world's best sensors. Yves is actively gathering the smallest, most detailed information about you, the environment, himself and whatever he has on hand. All that, without a struggle, without any clashes in thoughts or confusion in data. All that without overwhelming himself, not at all. He's in fact, very relaxed.
You let go of him when you had enough, but it seems you're not willing to fully part from his form yet as you're holding onto his large, smooth and manicured hand.
He walks to the next section of the aisle, pushing the trolley along with him and enveloping your smaller hand in his. He noticed that you've lost interest in looking around as canned goods bore you and you would very much rather look through shelves of candy and other junk foods. Where the companies work their predatory marketing tactics on unsuspecting customers like you.
If you wanted to, you would have left him alone to entertain yourself by now. But you're still stuck next to him as he reads the next list of ingredients.
He doesn't need to hide a delighted smile from you, as you're pushing your face against his lowest rib. Yves can express his glee at your very sweet and considerate gesture to accompany him despite your boredom.
He wanted to see how long you would last before he loses your consideration. That's why, Yves kept going through each can with you inching along next to him. Surprisingly, you're durable. But you're not exhibiting signs of weariness anymore, but instead, you're simply content and comfortable.
Strange. The buzzing, blinding lights above you and him, the monotony of the labels, the droning and other bustling noises would have driven you out of this aisle five minutes ago, let alone allow you to express... Happiness for being present. This isn't usual, Yves knows. He has observed you more times than you can count in this exact setting. Everything is more or less the same: the luminescence, the air quality and the decibels that your ears are picking up.
Except, the only variable that changed was him. His presence.
He gently called out your name, which prompted you to look up at him.
Yves pecked you on the lips, leaving a faint stain of his lipstick on your kisser.
"I love you." He whispered, biting onto his tongue immediately because he wanted to say much more. So much more. But he couldn't, it would be horrific for you to learn what he sees without your knowledge.
You stared at him, confused. Of course, you returned his words of affection. What baffled you was this glimmer in his breathtakingly beautiful, smiling eyes that would only appear if you did something extravagantly sweet and loving for Yves without expecting anything in return.
Like giving him a meaningful gift that you toiled for, trying your best to serenade him with an original piece of romantic music, going above and beyond to please or pamper him... What did you do?
Yves lets out a soft laugh as he watches you struggle to contain your excitement at the prospect of receiving that reward later at home. He can feel your tremors as you hold onto his hand.
Well, whatever it is, it surely earned you a very big reward. You're not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you gracefully accepted the silent message from Yves.
But for now, he must buy the groceries needed for the week, and all the ingredients to make your favourite dish of all time.
He pushed the cart to the next aisle, bringing you along with him.
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weixuldo · 8 months
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Pancakes and Pastries
Linecook/Roommate! Anakin x GN!Reader
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a/n: this is based on this lovely asks from @ddejavvu (link here). Just a preface, I didn't assign a gender becasue I wasn't sure what the ask implied (if u want me to change it I gladly will :) anyways, other notes will be at the end to clear up more abt the story.
You’re a terrible cook and only sell the baked goods at a small cafe downtown. Thankfully, your roommate, Anakin is an experienced linecook and is ready to make anything for you. Too bad he's a natural flirt, otherwise you might just find yourself falling for him.
Warnings: gn!reader, cursing, banter, no use of y/n
________________________
6:30 a.m 
The tiny brass bell above the cafe door dinged continuously as the working crowd came to grab a small bite before heading off to work. 
The cafe was filled with the warm aroma of coffee beans and fresh pastries. The display windows held rows of all types of treats; macrons, muffins, strudels, bagels, cookies, toast, and many more. A plethora of coffee makers and different flavorings to cater to each customer’s specific desires, lined the back counter.
Mornings were always pretty busy, you were in the heart of the city after all.
You had gotten up ungodly early to prepare for the day, so once you got everything ready and opened the shop you were pretty tired. But regardless of the exhaustion creeping in, you still had a full shift ahead of you so you needed to put on your best customer service face and seize the day. 
Latte, snickerdoodle cookie, iced chai tea with two pumps of vanilla, farmhouse roast with cold foam, 5 assorted macaroons, a slice of key lime pie, a frosted eclair, strawberry crepes. The orders came in waves and you prepared them all. 
You weren’t even scheduled today, but your boss called you at the last minute because the new guy got fired for stealing inventory (really what was he stealing? There was nothing but ingredients in the back), so you hauled ass down here.
Sadly today the staff joining you today were rookies, so you had to take orders and keep an eye on them too. 
It was bad enough that the bakers in the back were being lazy today, but to deal with new workers who didn’t know the system was even more frustrating. 
It was going to be a a long day.
3:50 p.m.
The cafe closed early on Sundays, so you flipped the “we’re open” sign over and got ready to close everything down when you heard a knock on the door.
Whoever that was would just have to stay disappointed because you were too tired to deal with another needy customer right now.
They knocked again and you had to collect a calming breath to make sure you wouldn’t go off on them when you turned around. Much to your surprise behind the glass door was your roommate….your handsome roommate.
Anakin Skywalker was an interesting guy. Deviously handsome looks, insane confidence, witty humor, and radiating charisma.
A few months ago you were apartment hunting but the rates in the city were way too high for you to pay alone, so you put out an ad for a roommate. A lot of the requests you got were from older people and you didn’t exactly feel the most comfortable as a young adult, just starting out, living with someone two or even three times your age. 
After a few days you stumbled upon Anakin’s application. Maybe his picture captured your attention… maybe you stalked his instagram to see if he was a serial killer (and to look at more of his pics).... Either way, the two of you obviously ended up living together. 
When he first moved in you were worried he would be bringing chicks back every night based on his stunning looks and flirtatious personality, but thankfully you were mistaken.
He was just a normal guy; go to work, come home, shower, eat, sleep, repeat. You didn’t mind that at all, because your routine was basically identical. 
A small blush rose to your cheeks as you headed for the door. His hair was held back by a folded black bandana and he had his own apron in hand. 
“The door was open, ya know” you said, motioning him into the establishment. 
“Oh, the sign was flipped, so I assumed…” he said, motioning to the door. 
“Mhmm”
“We are almost closed, but i’ll allow you one purchase, just cause i'm so nice” you teased. 
He walked up to the counter and surveyed the sweets, “oh, are you now? If you’re such a kind person, how about giving me a coffee cake on the house, sweetheart?”.
“Woah, woah, woah… you’re asking a bit too much there pretty boy” 
He leaned over the counter slightly with a smirk, “aww, you think i’m pretty”.
In response you playfully rolled your eyes, “yuck! It’s just an expression, Skywalker, don’t get an ego about it” .
He grabbed her beaten up wallet out of his back pocket and laughed, “You already know i’ve got an ego”. 
“That I do” you quipped back as you grabbed a coffee cake slice
“You love it though” he smiled as he handed you a ten.
Your eyes lingered on his forearm as he offered you the cash, he was a fit guy and the veins on his arms bulged just right; plus he was a line cook, so you knew that he had good dexterity in those pretty fingers too. 
“Whatever you say” 
You weren’t going to tell him, but you added your 50% off employee discount (since you were on the clock) just ‘cause. 
The cash drawer popped open with a ding and you went to hand him back his change.
“You heading back to the apartment?” he asked as he gathered his cake. 
“Yea, I’m gonna take a nap, I’m tired as shit. I’m guessing you’re about to go into work?” 
He drew his lips into a thin line, “yep, I’m livin’ the dream. Are you gonna get lunch?”
“Probably” 
“You should, food is important…Have a good afternoon though”. 
You returned the gesture and went back to wiping down the coffee bar when you heard a few clinks and the door closed shortly after.
Your brows furrowed at the speed at which he left, but to be fair his shift was literally starting in two minutes. You walked up to the register to lock it when you saw he had tossed the rest of his ten in the tip jar; a small smile spread across your tired face.
11:02 p.m.
Your sleep schedule was so fucked up from all of these awkward shifts so you were just waking up from your nap (if you can even call it that).
Before you could register what to do next, your stomach let out a hungry growl and you groaned. You forgot to eat lunch and missed dinner so you were starving; sadly, it was grocery shopping weekend for you and you were out of instant meals.
A sandwich then. 
You put on a small tank top and some gray shorts and headed to the kitchen. You hated cooking and you weren’t good at it either, so usually you had a salad kit, turkey dinner meal, or a premade acai bowl in the fridge. But since you were out of your usual options, you had to stick with a good ol’ PB&J.
You heard the click of keys in the door and you knew Anakin was back from his shift. Some of you wanted to dash back to your room and just wait until he went to shower to make it; you were lowkey intimidated by him. Before you could leave he noticed you and greeted you. 
“Oh, Hey Anakin, how was work?”
“It was fine, the Sunday night rush is insane though, I’m so glad I go in later tomorrow” he groaned, sitting down at one of the barstools in front of the counter. 
“You makin’ a little snack?” he asked, leaning over to see the ingredients in front of you. 
“It’s more like dinner and lunch-”
His eyes widened, “lunch?! I thought you were getting something on the way back?”. 
You shrugged, “I guess I forgot”.
“So you’re going to use a PB&J to supplement two missed meals?” he asked, bewildered. 
“Uh huh” you nodded. 
“No, no, no…” he muttered as he hopped off the stool and came around the counter beside you. 
He took the knife from your hand and began to put the spreads away. 
“Hey!” you exclaimed with a frown.
“Listen, If you’re going to break a two meal fast, I’ll be damned if I let you break it with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich” he huffed out a laugh. 
“Alright wise guy, what do you suggest instead? We both know I’m a horrible cook”.
He bent down and grabbed a pan from the cabinet and some ground beef.
“What are you doing?” you asked curiously. 
“I’m making you some food. Go ahead and sit down, I’ve got this” he said softly as he started up the stove.
“No, it’s really alright Anakin, you just got off of work. You really don’t have-”
“I want to,” he responded.
You stopped talking and took a seat as he maneuvered around the kitchen like he had been here his whole life. 
He chopped the beef and while it cooked he mixed spices to season the meat with. You watched him intensely; when he cooked his brows furrowed in concentration and the right one arched ever so slightly.
He lightly bit his bottom lip when he shook the pan to flip the tiny pieces of beef, and the tendons in his pretty hands flexed with every movement. 
You really shouldn't be thinking about your roommate this way, but sometimes it was almost impossible not to. Inside, you cursed yourself for even thinking you had a shot with him; he was just a generally flirty guy and acted the same way he did with you when you brought friends over (though he was honestly just being nice). Plus there was no way that you would be his first choice out of all of the people who wanted him. 
Anakin stood over the pan and shook out the seasoning he had just made to flavor the meat. Sure, he was tired from a seven hour shift, but this was for you; when it came to you, he would do almost anything. 
He wasn’t exactly sure when his little “crush” started, he just knew that it was definitely there. Maybe it was when he realized you worked in the cafe beside his restaurant, so he would pop in as often as he could to grab little sweets; ones he could easily make himself, but he chose to buy them just as an excuse to see you (much to the detriment of his wallet). 
Or maybe it was when he realized you discounted all of his purchases.
Or was it those late nights where the two of you would put on movies and share funny commentary whilst sharing a bowl of popcorn. 
Or was it simply because of the way you maneuvered through life? Your sunny disposition, wonderful personality, and genuine kindness… plus you were drop dead gorgeous.
Whatever it was, he was locked in… of course he still kinda flirted around, but he was a natural flirt. At this point he couldn’t imagine wanting someone as much as he wanted you, he was entrapped by the possibility of having you in the future. 
But of course, being the oblivious guy he is, he had no idea his feelings were reciprocated at all. So he chose not to act on his feelings out of fear of losing his spot in the apartment (if it went bad, you could kick him out and look for a different roommate to replace him). 
“It’s done,” he said, turning the oven off and putting the pan on a cool burner. 
“What is it?” you asked, walking around to his side. 
“It’s meat for a taco,” he said, grabbing some cheese, guac, and lettuce. 
“Oh, wow! That’s awesome, you made that so quick!” you exclaimed, looking at the pan. 
“Here, let me grab a spoon to get the meat out” he said passing behind you.
Your eyes widened when you felt his strong hands on your waist as he moved past; did you feel that right? Did his hand linger? And why were you feeling hot?
“Here” he handed you the spoon.
“Thanks Anakin, this is really sweet” you said, getting your taco ready. 
“No problem roomie” he said in a sing-songy voice.
“And with this you’ll have left overs so you can have lunch tomorrow. Don't forget again” he fake scolded. 
“Alright dad” you quipped back. 
He laughed and shook his head as he headed back to his room to take a shower. You observed his broad back as his shirt defined his shoulder blades and muscles while he walked. 
Fuck. You were getting way too attracted to him. 
___________________________
You woke up to a sweet aroma of pancake batter and fresh fruit. It wasn’t often that you and Anakin ever got up around the same time but apparently today was your lucky day. 
He truly loved the culinary arts because he never faltered with his ambition to prepare a quality meal. He cooked breakfast a lot, but most times you were already at work and just saw the dishes in the sink or only got to have a quick bite. Though, every so often, on a rare day like this, both of you were able to share a delicious breakfast together (he always made sure to make breakfast for you when he knew you were off). 
You walked out of your room with a yawn and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Once you took a seat he handed you a freshly made plate and tossed some strawberries on top. 
“Look who finally decided to get up” he joked with a smirk. 
You yawned once more, “Listen master chef, if my boss didn’t call me in for every little inconvenience- maybe my sleep schedule might not be as fucked”. 
“Fair, fair” he nodded. 
“Thanks for breakfast, it looks yummy” 
“Of course” he smiled back
You looked at the plate with hungry eyes, it looked amazing, the only other thing you would add was-
“You want some of this, don't you?” Anakin smiled, flaunting a new bottle of whipped cream in front of you. 
“Ugh” you rolled your eyes.
“I know how you take your pancakes,” he laughed, “you’re very predictable”.
“Am I?” you said before trying to quickly grab the can from his hand. 
He laughed again and raised his arm higher, “that’s not gonna work and you know it.”.
“What can I do to get some whipped cream around here?” you cried comically. 
“Well this stuff isn't cheap and we’re going through the largest national whipped cream shortage in history” he said, trying to sound serious. 
“Oh, wow that’s tough” you returned with an unamused tone. 
“Isn’t it though?” he added. 
“I guess if you want some, you’ll just have to pay me” he looked away. 
“With what Mr.whipped cream enthusiast? We both make shit money” you exxagerated. 
“I may consider non monetary payment… possibly a kiss on the cheek?” he said.
“You want me to kiss you on the cheek?” you asked.
It probably came out more rude than you intended, it was only becasue you were flustered and your tones always got jumbled when you were nervous. 
“Well you know what they say, “kiss the chef”. But if you don’t want any whipped cream…” he stated; he was a little nervous that he put himself too out there (he was never the best at subtlety). 
“No, no! I want my whipped cream, so I will comply” you said proudly. 
“Alright” he smirked. 
… …
“Are you going to come collect your compensation or just stand there with the bottle in your hand?” you asked playfully. 
“Oh, right. How dare I make a customer wait” he smiled, walking towards you.
“You’re so full of shit, Skywalker '' you teased as he bent down so you could kiss his cheek. 
He felt butterflies when your soft, pillowy lips landed on his flushed cheek. How he had imagined that feeling. 
“Alright, here you are mam” he shot out a dollop.
“That’s it?!” you exclaimed, unsatisfied. 
“Each shot is one kiss” he shrugged, “national shortage…remember?”.
“Ugh” you rolled your eyes and continued to kiss his cheek until you were satisfied with the amount on your plate. 
“Alright, alright. Thank you for the great customer service, I'll be sure to leave a good review on yelp” you joked as you pushed him away so you could eat in peace. 
“Much appreciated, thank you mam” he smiled.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever” you responded, with a light blush tinting your cheeks. 
5:30 p.m.
Anakin groaned from his room before entering the living area with his scrunched up apron in hand. HE stopped in his doorway to stretch. 
“Man, I really don’t feel like going in today”.
You hummed in acknowledgement, “It shouldn’t be too busy, since its only a monday ''.
“Yeah, I hope so” he said, putting his work shoes on that he kept by the door. 
You glanced over your shoulder to look at his muscles rippling as he tied the laces; it was mesmerizing. 
He stood and you whipped your head around quicker than you thought was possible. 
“Alright, I’ll see you later. It’s my week for trash right?” he asked, grabbing his keys.
“Mhm”
“Ok, I’ll take it out when I get back tonight. Don’t worry, I won’t forget” he smiled before waving a small goodbye and shutting the door. 
Something about him was just so homely, he was so sweet and thoughtful; you felt that living with him was just natural at this point. 
________________
The restaurant was actually pretty busy when he first arrived, he saw a few party tables as he walked in. Great…
After clocking in, he got straight to work; manning the char grill, making sure all the orders were getting out in a timely manner, and goofing around with the other cooks. 
In passing one of the cooks asked how his crush was doing. 
“What do you mean?” Anakin innocently asked with a stupid smile on his face. 
“Oh, just the one you live with. Ya know, no biggie” he laughed. 
“Doing well, I made us breakfast this morning,” Anakin proudly stated.
___
All of the staff knew about Anakin’s not so little thing for you. He had been working at this restaurant for a while and was pretty acquainted with everyone. The cooks all knew abt you because everyone liked to talk in the kitchen, plus some of the other guys were curious about Anakin’s love life, seeing that he was so desirable (all of the waitstaff thought he was fine as hell). 
He showed them your instagram when the two of you first started living together and everyone in the kitchen cheered him on. 
The waitstaff on the other hand were not so thrilled that the handsome and mysterious line cook already had his sights set on someone else… someone who wasn’t them. Of course they were jealous, but when they got your insta from Anakin, they couldn’t even find anything bad to say about you;l you were stunning. 
Doesn’t mean they liked you though…
___
A new order buzzed onto the screen above that had all sorts of modifications; Anakin was about to groan, until he recognized something familiar…
Usually no one asked for a salad without tomatoes and cheese but instead with rice, cucumbers, raspberries, strawberries, and chicken- or cinnamon on their mashed potatoes; there was only one person he knew who ever ordered such a peculiar combination.
You.
The waitress who rang in the order walked by and Anakin caught her attention. 
“Hey, the person who ordered thi-”
“Yeah, I know. They’re such a pain. Like, at this point, just make it at home if you want so many modifications” she rambled
He then described your appearance to her and asked if the customer fit the description.
“Yea, sounds like ‘em” she said before carrying on with her work. 
He smiled, you came into his place on your day off. Suddenly he felt a warm sensation in his chest. 
The waitress came barreling back in and shouted Anakin’s name, “they apparently forgot to say they didn’t want-”
“Butter on the mash” he finished, already knowing what was coming next. 
“Yea, how’d you know?” she asked, confused. 
“That’s my roommate, I make this for us all the time back at home”.
She gave him a look before walking away to whisper something into another server’s ear. He knew they were then going to go out and judge you because they were jealous. Typical. 
He continued to make your plate with care and since it wasn’t busy, even spent time drawing a little hearts with the cinnamon and salad dressing (not very subtle Anakin). 
The other cooks notice and start making fun of him and he playfully starts winding up a rag to snap at them. 
Once your food has been run he slipped out of the kitchen for a “bathroom” break; obviously everyone knows where he’s going.
He walks out into the front house and is immediately relieved by the cooler AC in there, next he scanned the tables and booths until he spotted your familiar face.
Soon enough he offers himself a seat in the booth opposite of you. 
”Anakin!” you exclaim, “You scared me”.
“My apologies Sunshine, Just thought I’d come out and see my favorite customer” he said before winking. 
“How’d you even know I was- “ you began before you looked down at your plate and realized. 
“Yea, not many people are out here ordering such a peculiar combo” he teased. 
“I should have known it was you who made the plate, well with the hearts and all. That must take a lot of time, they were really precise” you said, taking a sip of your water. 
He laughed before answering, “I reserve those for very special guests'' (he only did those when you came in). 
“Well, I wonder if you do this to persuade certain “people” to cut back on your rent for the month” you arched a playful brow. 
He clenched his chest and looked offended, “Of course not! I would never do such a thing”.
You laughed at his stupidity. 
He loved making you laugh, it was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. 
You saw a few other cooks poking their heads around the wall that divided the kitchen from the seating in curiosity. 
“I think your co-workers want you to hurry up” you smiled, pointing towards the entrance to the kitchen. 
He let out a sigh, “I guess so”. 
As he stood you thanked him for stopping by; “My compliments to the chef” you teased. 
“I am always at your service” he dramatically bowed before jogging to the back. 
When he left you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your heart was racing… you were in too deep (but so was he). 
Anakin spent the rest of the night happily making orders; he no longer cared he was at work, because you had just made his day. 
Everyone in the kitchen began to tease him because he had a certain glow to him and they all knew why. 
“When are you finally gonna go on a date?” someone asked him. 
“Yea, you seem pretty damn sure about this one” another butted in. 
He smiled to himself, “Soon guys. soon…”
***
a/n: The reader likes some weird ass combos lmfaooo. Basically these two are both missing the point that the other likes them. Now to clear up some things, I know cafe's are usually open all day but I needed it to close early for the plot. Also, I worked at a steakhouse and modeled Anakin's work as such just cause its what i'm most familiar with (Ironically I don't eat meat lol).
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