only after making the same dumb mistakes, i barely came to realisation, that you were the reason to my beginning. i will devote my everything and return to you once again. because it's rightfully so that all powers and capabilities are returned to you.

Once again, felt like writing a song hehe 😅 This time, the inspo was from "The Otherside" series by @rinbowaman! I loved it saurrr much I was itching to write a song. This is in the pov of either: Heeseung (SIR OMG AAAAAAH), Jake (OMG, I WAS SO SHOCKED, IN A GOOD WAY), or...𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍, 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐍 (That I'm currently sharing with @pockettwinzz hehe).

Hope you enjoy! Likes, reblogs and/or following me would be much appreciated!

Title: 𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆.

By: 𝑰𝒔𝒂 (me)

𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔.

𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒓𝒖𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.

𝑰'𝒎 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓.

𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆.

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒆, 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒚.

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕, 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆,

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.

𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆,

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔.

𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝑨𝒓𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔.

𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓,

𝑰𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒚,

𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒇𝒊𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚...

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬.

𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔.

𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒈𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒌𝒆.

𝑰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆.

𝑰'𝒎 𝒃𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚.

𝑶𝒉, 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓,

𝑰𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓,

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒈𝒐.

𝑨𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅, 𝑰 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒚 𝑮𝒐𝒅:

𝑻𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝑴𝑬 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓.

𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒆, 𝒏𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆,

𝑶𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓.

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒗𝒐𝒘,

𝑶𝒓 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒔, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘.

𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔.

𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒖𝒑 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒆,

𝑰'𝒎 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒅𝒐.

𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍, 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆,

𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍, 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏.

𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒐𝒘.

𝑰𝒇 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐, 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅:

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆.

A/n: SEND HELP, WHY TH DO I LIKE THE FF AND THE SONG AND THE FACT THEY'RE LITERALLY 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒. ☠️

© en-geneisaxx 2024. All rights reserved.

𐙚 THE THREE STAGES OF DATING PARK SUNGHOON.

` —IN ALL REALITIES, i want to be tied to you by heart.

001. from a fling to newfound lovers.

sitting beside the window, you watch the rain pouring down hitting against the glass and slipping like drops of tear. the music in your earphones blaring into your ears like you’re in a different world, numbing like an apocalypse. the bus stops for a while and a minute later you feel the presence of one sit beside you; it’s sunghoon, he runs a hand through his slightly wet hair trying to brush off the raindrops and adjusts his blazer before he looks at you with a rather brazen look on his face. raising his brows cockily and reaching forward to pull out one of your buds, to put it in his ear.

as he takes your hand resting on your lap into his, fingers intertwining with yours in a gentle squeeze, you look at him questioningly, “i thought you were going to take your car?” he smiles faintly turning his face to return your gaze, not a viable response, just brown orbs staring at you. his other hand moves to trace his ring on your index finger, the one he gave you this weekend, “wanted to spend some more time with you.”

it was almost ten at night when you had gotten his text to come outside, that he had something to say to you. he ended up confessing and asking you out after you got into an argument about him treating you like you were a summer fling; things could have ended in so many different ways but you’re grateful that for once the sunghoon you knew, put his ego and pride behind and admitted his wrong.

and now that he has entered your life, your world, you wish nothing but for him to stay as long as he can in there. you know this might not go on for forever but however long it may be, you want to put all your heart and efforts into it. it’s just your second day, you have a long way to go, “then let’s go to school together from now on, be it the bus or your car.” and sunghoon swears his heart has never felt what it felt when he heard your voice just now..and your smile: the first love kind. perhaps his first love? only time could tell him.

༄LECHE OF THE SIRENS.ೃ࿔*

corrupt!enhypen ot7 x siren!reader warning(s): the boys being downright disgusting, reverse harem, mature themes, obsessive and possessive behaviours, (y/n) is manipulative and puts them in their place, unconventional 'love' type: mini series word count: 10.4k

seven nobles who are corrupt meets a girl akin to a celestial being. little do they know, that the maiden is anything but—as she is the bane to all abominable man, a siren.

oh his fangs………

𝜗𝜚ㅤTHAT'S MY GIRL! ( their idol s/o has dating rumours with someone else )

────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗒!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 the one who ends up revealing your relationship in the most unhinged way. look he really loves the thrill of a secret relationship and he's so grateful to be chosen and loved by you but he just cannot stand you being romantically associated with someone that's not him. like why anyone else when he's literally here? sad baby starts a weverse live to vent in code (lies he planned it all so strategically, the perfect little irreversible plan) but ends up slipping your name in between as if he wasn't just giving it all away, "whose scrunchie is that? oh this blue one?" picking up the silk rubber from the corner the fans spotted it in,"it's y/n's," and when asked why, he's babbling on before anyone can stop him," because my baby was here yesterd-" live ended.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 the one who is so secure in himself, he wouldn't give a damn about it. please he couldn't be bothered in the least whether there's one or hundred rumours or articles, he knows he's the only one for you. though sometimes he would want to show you off a bit but that's okay there will come that day when he would put a ring on that finger and declare to everyone just how much he loves you. "jay did you know about that rumor i had with-" you enter the room, wanting some lovely words from your lovely boyfriend,"baby you know i love you lots no article or rumor's gonna change that ever," you giggle rushing over to him and leaving fluttering kisses on his cheeks, "just wanted to tell you he's apparently rumoured to have beef with you," "we meet after a week and that's all you gotta say? come on baby,"

𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊; 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖘

immortal!enhypen x mortal!female reader content(s): college setting, vampire enhypen, human reader, enhypen has an unhealthy fixation towards reader, mature and dark themes, warnings will be specified at each chapter type: mini series (6 parts)

red strings tangled beyond repair, the solution being to return to the hand they are tethered to. but things prove to be more painful—more excruciating than any they’ve ever felt. even for immortals who deem pain as merely a child’s game.

Elevator Ride | Park Sunghoon

It was a clear sunny day.

There were traffic and busy workers hustling to get to their job. You looked as ready and tidy as ever, getting ready for a new job ahead in this new city you just recently moved to.

You will be working as a new assistant for a boss of this big corporation that owns many brands. Optimistic enough, you entered a tall glass building, filled with many windows, each step you took reverberated along the walls as you went to the elevator. After the elevator opened, you noticed a tall handsome lean man, who looked stylish. had his hair slicked back, he looked such of handsome beauty, his moles highlighting his features, that suit of his with his tie adjusted properly, how his suit straightens his shoulders, making him look broader. You wondered if he is dating anyone. He looked so hot in that suit you just wanted to fuck him in the elevator. You tried to get ahold of yourself, now it wasn't the time to be tempted. But you couldn't help it, you were still staring at him, with flirtatious eyes, you entered the elevator and you pressed on the button. Odd enough, you were about to see him reach his hand for the same button, but he pulled back once he saw you press it, you guys were going to the same floor. Enthusiastically, you wondered if he was an employee, though the ride from the elevator was kind of quiet, there ere many floors and the one you had to press was at the top floor. There was some silence on the way to get there, you looked over to your left and you just saw him, leaning against the wall, staring at the door into the abyss.

squealing, rattling, scraping, flickering

stop

-

The elevator suddenly came to a halt. The lights became dim. It was dark in the elevator. You wondered if this was a nonoccuring issue but you turned your head just to see this guy let out a long exhalation of air.

sigh

He seemed a bit mad. You never knew on the first day on your job that you will be stuck in an elevator with a hot handsome guy like him, but it is your first day. You'd figured you'll strike a conversation with him.

"I guess we must be late huh"

no response

"Does this usually happen?"

no response

This guy isn't responding. Few minutes pass by with dead silence. You groaned and rolled your eyes. You threw your head back against the wall, as if some miracle worker is going to come and save the day, you didn't want to be late, as your goal was to be there early, you tried pressing the help button, but for some reason, it wasn't working, you tried to press all the buttons in desperation before he stopped you

"What are you doing?"

"Well I don't see you doing anything right now"

"And you aren't helping either, the electricity, turned off again"

"Electricity?"

"Yeah, I'm assuming you must be new here because I never saw you here in our building."

"Yeah, I'm a new assistant"

"Oh, you are my assistant then."

It never occured to you that he was your boss. Who knew. You did like the fact that he was your boss but at the same time, you don't want to be stuck here. You started to glare at him as you crossed your arms and huffed. He saw you acting up and soon chuckled.

"We always get problems like these all the time, you'll get used to it"

"C'mon, aren't you strong enough, why don't you pry the doors open"

"Help will arrive"

30 minutes later

"So where is the help? Why are they taking forever??"

He muttered "They were supposed to be here"

You saw him in disappointment. He looked cute to be a bit mad. But that only made you a bit pissed that this corporation looked good on the outside but bad in the inside. Without much thought, you saw him trying to pry the doors open. It wouldn't budged. Not any longer, you saw him rolling off his sleeves, you saw his porcelain arms, veins bulging out of them, he was trying so hard you started to see him sweat, his brows furrowing, his face frowning. He started to pant and was on the verge of exhausation.

"I'm tired"

"You should just rest and let's just wait here"

"Hold on, I'll try once more"

This time you saw him take off his suit jacket. Rising his shoulders, his arms stretched out to the point you saw his muscles, his back looked so defined. Next, he started to untidy his tie. He left the tie on one side hanging off his shoulder. He started to open the buttons from his collar all the way down, one by one. His veins on his porcelain hands showing. Part of you was really tempted you began to react. Sweat began to drip off from his face. Before he began to pry the door again he was left interrupted with a smooching kiss you gave him, you holded his tie around his neck as you brang him closer to your height, he rounded his shoulders as he leeched towards you, his eyes surprised and shocked, you stared at him with such intent he noticed, a minute after, without any hesitation, he began to kiss back, you started swirling your tongue with his tongue until the kiss became hungry. He slowly started to move to your neck and kiss you there, sucking you off until he left a bruise, a hickey. He began to aggressively huff, leaving marks here and there. You guys kept kissing as you started to lean against the wall, he followed like a puppy, footsteps coming closer, with his arms over your head, a smirk reached to his lips as he reached your hands out to your face, touching it so softly and gently your ears became red,

"So this was your plan all along huh?"

"Yes boss~ the moment I saw you, I knew you had to do me"

He soon began to ravish your mouth like a dog in heat. He kept slobbering you up. You began to moan as he pressed your body against yours, feeling the body heat, the tension that was creating between the both of you. His arms touched your back, making you feel all feverish. You kept kissing until you averted away, he stared at you so deep, wanting more, his eyes looked so deep with thought, gazing at you romantically, he smiled as you started to slide down towards the floor, with your hands running down from his chest to his waist. You began to look up at him with big eyes while he stared down at you now expressionless. You began to unbuckle his belt, he looked real eager, wanting more from you, his eyes widening, you began to zip down his black sleek pants to uncover a massive bulge lying underneath, you began to lick down at it, tackling the spot till your saliva seeped through his crotch. He began to breathe heavily as he couldn't bother to take it anymore, you suddenly bite down part of his underwear that is left out, tugging it slowly to reveal the massive beast. His schlong bounced and falled clumsily against your head. He started to grin. You gaze in awe of how big it was. You couldn't believe it. It was really rock hard. He spread his legs a bit just for enough leg room as he bent his knees and put his hands behind his back. He spit saliva on his cock from down above just to give you some part in lubricating it. He kept smiling. Slowly, you dug the shaft of his cock against your warm wet tongue, the salty taste of his pre cum entering your mouth as you began to suck it like a lollipop. He winced.

"Fuck, baby, just like that, who knew my new assistant can be such a slut."

"Who knew my-" slurps "Boss has such a huge dick-" gasps

"Oh yeah? Suck on that cock, suck on that shit."

He dig his fingers through your hair, both of his hands covering your whole scalp as he started to pull on it. You started moaning as he pulled on your hair, his face getting lost in the moment, as his eyes started to roll to the back of his head, enjoying it as he started to rock his hips back and forth, hitting the back of your throat, leaving a bright red bruise. You began to breathe rapidly, as you were gagging on his cock, he started to pound your mouth faster and faster until you couldn't breathe. He loved how good his cock felt, all slobbery and slippery, just enough for him to almost cum. You felt pure bliss, as you watched your boss enjoy yourself, closing his eyes in satisfication, everything happened so abrupt you felt his cock leaking to your throat

"I-m about to cum! Here it comes baby!"

He shooted his warm load against my throat, he looked to be in pure relief as I saw him release my hair, flowing down towards me, His eyes partly closed as and he sighed, his arms gently touched your skin, coaxing you as you done a great job in giving him pleasure, but it wasn't full yet.

"Clothes off, now please."

"Anything for you daddy"

You slowly rose up as he stared at you. As you got up, he slowly slid off your suit off your body, as he was running his long sleek cold hands down your chest, you started rubbing his cock as it became hard once again. He had a full hard on. You started to look at him, making eye contact as you slowly closed your eyes and kissed once again

"Hmm, touch it, just like that, I'll pound you until you can't get up"

He began to touch you too. He slowly touched you from your knees to your soft thighs, your face flushing at the sight of his touch. He brang your knee and raised it up with his hand, his cock starting to slide against your clit so easily. He started to thrust a couple times, rubbing your clit with his hard rock tip.

"mHm, pls not there" you moaned

"Don't worry, I won't go that far, yet" with a devilish smile

He started to put more pressure in thrusting. His soft moans filling your ear, every second you indulge in his whimpers, making you really wet, you could tell that you began to leak some fluid out of your pussy as it started to slowly drip into his dick.

"You want this huge cock? Do you want boss to put a baby inside you?"

"Yes, fuck me really hard and give me all your babies, please!"

He kept swallowing your neck as he slowly grinned, controlling you to his own accord. Holding your slim body with his muscular form, he forced your legs apart, as he brang down your knee, teasing your clitoris with his cock as he was about to jam it in.

He chuckles "Jesus baby, look how horny you got me"

He began to kiss my ear, with my legs dancing against with his cock, our bodies pressing more firmly than ever. His gaze fixated from my face to my chest area.

"Didnt I say, clothes off now?"

"I'm so sorry I-" loudly moans

His strong grip touched my suit, feeling through my boobs, his grin became even strong as he became obsessive with jiggling them, smiling as if they're some toys he can play with. He started to hum against your skin, breaking away the kisses he once did to your face now to your chest area. He tore away the buttons, wrecking the hem of your suit just to uncover a holy sight of your boobs, you started to feel a squeeze in them as he began to bury his face into them, you felt his nose hit your chest, while licking your sensitive nipples, he is simutaeously stimulating your clit. He left a trail of little sucks here and there, as he slowly began to take off your suit and your pants, also revealing a naked body.

"You like what you see?"

"I can't wait to fuck you, I can't hold back any longer"

"Shove that cock in yes please! Impregnate me!"

"Tell me how much you want it"

"I want it now please!"

"Oh yeah?" grunts

"O- mm- FuCk-"

The anger and fustration he kept penting up was now released. His tongue slips into your mouth, causing you to muffle a moan. He slid his cock into your pussy it made squishy sounds, you were about to squirt. He carried both of your legs as he pinned you against the wall, all hearing is smooching and heavy breathing, his hot breath going against his face as he keeps huffing, his hands traced your body to your hips as he wraps around your waist, shoving that cock even deeper, his cock is making you really satisfied, you couldn't take it anymore as you close your eyes, with him having you jump on his cock when moving. He kisses you even more, giving a warning "You better hold on tight for me baby" You started to grip your hands on the sides of his head, touching his sweaty hair, your moans get even louder as he keeps pounding your g spot over and over, "Boss, please make me cum!"

"I'm not stopping until I cum deep into that fucking pussy."

You started to arch your back as he started to cling onto your ass, he started biting his lips while he was staring at you, his expression unchanged, he only stared at you while you guys kept fucking, his eyes, unfazed, watching you enjoying that dick of his. He smirked as he took it up a notch and started fucking hard, till your body couldn't take much longer. You couldn't breathe, you wanted him to stop.

"Boss, stop please, Y- you are g- gonna make me c- ummm, o- ohhH"

"Say my name"

"W-what is y-OUr mm- NamE?"

"S-Sunghoon, say it for me b-baby"

"Sunghoon please s-TOP" moans

"You wish- you fucKing SLut" said with a sheepish grin

Sunghoon started ramming you so hard you can feel him shake,he started swelling up your insides, making you get closer

"Fuck!" he started to pant shakily

"I-I'm about to f-all apart!"

Your voice begin to tremble. You were about to fall apart until he whispered into your ear, "I'm going to cum inside you, right n-now."

You felt his cum shooting up inside you, his cock begin to twitch real bad as he almost collapse into the floor, with his vision turning white as he rolled his eyes back, his orgasm shooting down from his spine. He still carried you with his hands, spreading your cheeks even wider as he rammed that cock inside you, making you take all his cum inside until he came out dry. He felt your cunt clenched as the cum started to drip out, you started to convulse as you began reaching your orgasm, your body started to shake as you were hanging on to his lean body, squirting everywhere over that big dick of his, your fingernails digging into his back, both of you guys ejaculated with pleasure as you both sinked into the bottom, cock and pussy still attached to each other

"O- Oh fuckkk baby, look how much cum I came inside you"

"You had such a huge cock my hung boss, I loved every part of you using me up"

Both of you guys exhaled in exhaustion. He slowly pulled his cock, his long legs stil facing towards you as cum came dripping out, plugging that pussy of yours, he sighed in relief as he leaned his head back and layed on the ground, overwhelmed and exhausted, you saw cum spillage on the floor from your guy's intense fuck and tasted it, it was salty and delicious

bzzzzz, bzzzzz~ flickering

-

The lights finally turned on. The electricity is back, the sounds on the elevator began to function. You guys quickly put on your clothes. Sunghoon started putting on his pants then shoes and his suit, all wrinkled, same with you, but some cum stains were here and there, you better best hoped people never noticed. You guys stood up straight, acted all nonchalantly, as if nothing ever happened, but his hand started to grip your ass, he smiled as you looked back at him, as if he eagerly wanted to fuck again, the elevator opened and he quickly put his hand back to his pant pocket, some workers greeted him at the top floor.

"Hello boss, welcome back! I hope the elevator wasn't troublesome today, we contacted the electricity workers to come by and fix the problem, hopefully it won't occur."

"Yes, I wouldn't mind if they did, occur."

He looked at you straight with deep dreamy eyes. You resisted his temptation.

"Also, mind showing the new assistant where her new desk is?"

A person came along to help you.

"Thank you so much!"

It so happens that your desk is inside your boss's office.

I looked back and turned at Sunghoon. He went the opposite direction of his office to get something, his words mouthing "We are going to have so much fun~" winks

You are ready to be made into his cum slave.

ROYALTY

Title: You're no good, I'm no good, we're no good p.5

Idol: Park Sunghoon (EN-HYPEN)

You don’t hear from him for three days. At first, you tell yourself it’s a break. That it’s healthy. That maybe he’s moving on, and maybe you should too. But by the second night, you’re restless. You check your inbox more times than you care to admit. You almost put on the mask. You almost go live. You don’t. But only because you’re afraid he won’t show up. The fourth night, he does. No video this time. No voice either. Just a message:

moonreflections: i missed you.

Your hands shake. You hate that they shake. You start the call. The silence is familiar. Comforting, almost. You imagine he’s lying on his back in a dark room, staring at the ceiling. You imagine he’s just as fucked up as you remember. You say, “You disappeared.” “I didn’t know if I should come back.” You whisper, “And yet you did.” He sighs. You picture his fingers tugging at his sleeves, his hoodie pulled over his face. “I told myself I’d quit,” you say. “You weren’t around and it felt like a sign. But I kept checking. I kept hoping.” He doesn't say anything. And maybe that’s worse. “You’re not good for me,” you say, and the words feel like betrayal in your mouth. “Neither are you.” It stings, but you nod. Because it’s true. You make each other worse. You feed each other the same tired, desperate ache night after night. You tiptoe around affection like it’s something dangerous. You cling to the version of each other you’ve invented. You press your forehead to your knees. “I think about you when I’m not working. Like… too much. I know this doesn’t mean anything. I know it’s pretend. But I still—” “I do too,” he cuts in, fast, almost like it hurts to admit. The silence turns bitter. “I wanted to stop needing this,” he says. “But it’s easier to want you than it is to want anything real.” You want to cry. You want to scream. You want to ask him why he said it like that. But you know why. You say, “You think anyone will ever love people like us?” He laughs, and it sounds hollow. “Probably not.” You laugh too. And then you don’t. There’s a long silence. Not the kind that stretches. The kind that settles. “Do you want me to stop calling?” he asks. You think about it. You think about how much lighter you might feel. About how this isn’t love. About how it’s barely even comfort. But you say, “No.” Because you’re weak. Because you like the pain. Because even if it’s not real, it’s yours. He tips again. It’s less than usual. Maybe that means something. Maybe it doesn’t. You fall asleep with the mask still on, the screen still glowing. When you wake up, he’s gone. But the call is still open. And you don’t end it. Not yet.

Title: You're no good, I'm no good, we're no good p.4

Idol: Park Sunghoon (EN-HYPEN)

He turns on the camera without warning. You almost don’t notice it at first. You’re halfway through a story about a customer who screamed at you at the bodega, your voice dull and steady. You’ve gotten used to his silence. To the sound of him breathing in the dark. So when the screen flickers, your words catch mid-sentence. There he is. Hood up. Face shadowed by the dim light from his phone. Eyes sharp but tired. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t acknowledge the shift. Just looks at you, blinking slowly like he’s daring you to speak first. Your fingers freeze over the keyboard. You don’t recognize him. Not exactly. He’s handsome in a way that feels oddly familiar, like someone you might’ve seen in a dream or brushed past on the street. But there’s no instant click. No gasp of recognition. Still, your heart stutters. You whisper, "Why?" He shrugs. The movement is small. Tired. "Felt like it." You want to ask if this changes everything. If this is the part where he asks for your face in return. But he doesn’t. He just sits there, eyes locked on you like he’s waiting for something you don’t know how to give. “I thought we weren’t doing this,” you murmur. His jaw clenches. "Yeah, well. I got tired of hiding." You don’t believe him. Not really. But you don’t call him on it. The call goes quiet for a while. You study his face through the mask—every detail, like you’re memorizing it in case he disappears. He looks young. Sad. Too put together to be this lost, and yet here he is, same as you. Alone, despite everything. A beautiful kind of mess. He tips you halfway through the silence. Not for anything you’ve done. Just because. Like he wants you to know he’s still there. Like he doesn’t know how to be close without paying for it. You think about turning your camera off. About logging out. About taking off your mask just to see what he’ll say. But you don’t. Instead, you say, “You ever think this is all we’re good for?” He doesn’t answer at first. Then: “All the time.” You hum quietly, a noise low in your throat. “I promised myself I’d quit. Again.” “Didn’t you say that last week?” “And the week before that. And the one before that.” “You never do.” You shrug. “Neither do you.” There’s a bitter softness in your voice that makes the silence that follows feel mean. “I think I need you to need me,” you admit, suddenly, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “Otherwise none of this makes sense.” He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. “Maybe that’s why I keep showing up.” There’s something ugly in that. Something honest. You’re both addicted to the version of yourselves that only exists between 1 and 4 a.m. He looks at you again, really looks at you, and says, “You don’t even like this, do you?” “I hate it.” “So why are you still here?” “Because I’d rather be wanted like this than not at all.” He nods, slow and tired, like he understands. Like maybe he feels the same. You say, “You know this isn’t a fairytale, right?” He looks straight at you. “Doesn’t mean I don’t dream.” You laugh, soft and dry. “Me too.” Another pause. Then: “Do you want to see me?” you ask. He flinches, almost imperceptibly. “No. Not unless you want me to.” You nod. You don’t take off the mask. You don’t need to. The damage is already done. You’ve already shown him the ugliest parts of you—even if he never sees your face. You fall asleep with the call still open, his face the last thing you see. When you wake up, he’s gone. But the tip came through. And your inbox is empty. You tell yourself this isn’t love. You don’t believe yourself. And you promise, again, that you’ll quit. Just not this week.

Title: You're no good, I'm no good, we're no good p.3

Idol: Park Sunghoon (EN-HYPEN)

He keeps coming back. Some nights you talk. Some nights you don’t. But the call always comes, late—when the city’s quiet and your body feels too heavy for the bed. You never know what version of him you’re going to get. Sometimes he’s soft-spoken, careful. Other times he’s distracted, distant, like he’s trying to outrun something and you’re just the thing he landed on to break the fall. You like him better when he’s quiet. It’s easier to imagine he cares. Tonight, he’s restless. You can hear it in the way he breathes too hard into the mic, the way he doesn’t say your name like he usually does. He doesn’t ask you to pretend tonight. Doesn’t even say hello. “Rough day?” you ask, even though you promised yourself you wouldn’t chase him. But you always do. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” he mutters. “I don’t even know what this is.” You know he doesn’t mean the session. But your chest still tightens like he’s talking about you. You wait. You’ve gotten good at that. He exhales sharply. “I feel like I’m being eaten alive from the inside out. I put on a smile. I keep moving. I make people think I’m okay. And I hate that I’m good at it.” You press your knuckles to your mouth. The only thing you know about him is that he has money. That he tips like it means nothing. That he sounds tired even when he’s saying nothing at all. But nights like this, you wonder if there’s something underneath. Something damaged. Something sharp. “Maybe you like hurting,” you say, voice quieter than it’s ever been. “Some people do. Some people get good at it.” There’s a long pause. Then he laughs—low, broken. “You’re not wrong.” Your throat tightens. You don’t know why you say what you say next. “You make me feel like I’m not real unless you’re here.” You regret it instantly. You weren’t supposed to say that. You weren’t supposed to need him. But lately, when his name doesn’t pop up in your session requests, your stomach knots in a way that has nothing to do with money. “You always say that like I asked you to,” he says, voice flat. You flinch. He doesn’t mean it cruelly. But it still hits you. And the worst part? You get it. You’re both messed up people using each other to feel something. And maybe that’s not love. Maybe it’s not even comfort. Maybe it’s just company. “Why do you keep coming back?” you ask. You hate how fragile your voice sounds. “I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe because you don’t ask for anything I can’t give.” That makes you feel small. “I’m not doing this forever,” you lie. “You said that last week.” You pull your knees to your chest, mask still on. Always on. You want to scream at him. You want to ask if he’d still tip if he saw your real face. Your real life. Your real sadness. But instead, you say, “You’re the only one who comes back.” And that’s the truth. He’s quiet for a long time. You think he’s going to log off. Then he says: “You don’t take the mask off. I don’t turn the camera on. We’re both hiding. Maybe that’s why this works.” You swallow hard. “What if this is the best it gets?” you whisper. He doesn’t answer. But he doesn’t leave. And neither do you. The call doesn’t end until one of you falls asleep. Or maybe both of you do. You wake hours later to a black screen, a blinking cursor, and a single tip. Enough to keep the lights on. Enough to make you stay another week.

Title: You're no good, I'm no good, we're no good p.2

Idol: Park Sunghoon (EN-HYPEN)

He comes back the next night. Same username. Same quiet request. No video, no voice. Just a message.

moonreflections: just talk to me again. same way as before.

And you do. You slip behind the mask, light your room the way he seems to like it—warm, soft, golden—and speak. You tell him about the rain outside. About the pasta you overcooked. About a dream you had that you can’t quite remember, but it left you feeling hollow all day. He tips again. Quietly. Generously. He types:

moonreflections: I don’t want to see you. I just want to hear you. that okay?

It is. You don’t say it out loud, but you nod anyway, the motion so small it doesn’t even register on camera. You lean into the mic and ask, "What do you want me to be tonight?" He types back:

moonreflections: pretend you love me.pretend you miss me.

Your throat tightens. But you do it. You close your eyes and whisper the words no one else has asked to hear from you. You talk like he's someone you've always known. Like you're waiting for him to come home. Like you're already in love with a stranger who pays you to pretend. He never interrupts. Never rushes. He just listens. Tips occasionally. Sometimes he types short messages:

moonreflections: you sound tired tonight. Or: moonreflections: are you okay?

And maybe it's all a game to him. Maybe he's just playing along. But still, something about the way he asks feels different. You start waiting for his name to pop up. When it doesn't, you feel something sour settle in your chest. When it does, you feel relief. And that scares you more than anything. On the fifth night, he finally speaks. It catches you off guard—his camera still off, just a voice through your headphones. Low. Smooth. Tired. "Sorry," he says, like he's embarrassed. "Typing felt… wrong tonight." You don't respond right away. Your heart is pounding in your ears. He sounds familiar. Not in the way that makes you think you know him, but in the way he says things softly. The way he pauses like he's not used to being listened to. You find yourself saying, "That's okay. I like your voice." There's a beat of silence. You wonder if you've said too much. Then he says, quietly, "You're the only person I can talk to like this." You don't know what to do with that. It sounds too close to the things you think and never say. It sounds like something you want to believe. You ask, "What do you do?" He laughs. Not in a mean way—more like he's amused by the absurdity of the question. "A little bit of everything," he says. "But mostly, I pretend." You understand that. You whisper, "Me too." That night, after the session ends, you sit in front of the blank screen with your mask still on. Your face hot. Your chest tight. You don’t take the mask off right away. You don’t want to be seen—even by yourself. He sent you another tip. More than usual. It makes you feel both grateful and small. Before logging off, you type something into the empty chat box. He’s already gone, but you say it anyway:

Goodnight. I hope you sleep well.

And for once, you mean it.

Title: You're no good, I'm no good, we're no good

Idol: Park Sunghoon (EN-HYPEN)

The mask sits on the desk beside you like a dare. Plain, black, matte. No design, no lace, no eye-catching mystery. Just something to hide behind. You stare at it while the screen in front of you lights up—two unread messages, both expired, and a new private session request blinking at the top of the chat box. Username: moonreflections. You don’t recognize it. Good. New means impersonal. New means easy. You let out a long sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears, even though no one will see your face anyway. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, then drop into your lap instead. Your apartment is too quiet tonight, humming with the kind of silence that makes your thoughts scream. “I’ll quit this week,” you whisper, just to hear something human. “Swear to God.” You always say that on Mondays. Your webcam flickers to life as you adjust the lighting to something soft, golden. Warm, but not too personal. You check your reflection, adjust your shirt, smooth down the mask's edges. Then you click \“accept\” on the session. The screen blinks. For a moment, there’s nothing. No camera on his end. No voice. Just silence and the faint flicker of the red "live" icon in the corner. Then a message pops up in the chat:

moonreflections: can you just talk tonight?

You blink. Another message follows before you can type a response:

moonreflections: pretend we’re in bed. say something soft. something warm.

Your lips part. You read it again. And then again. Most men want the same thing. Take your top off. Moan louder. Call me something filthy. Fake it for me, baby. But this? You reach for the mic, throat dry, heart tired, and whisper, “I think you smell like cedar and cigarettes. And you sleep on the side of the bed closest to the door, just in case.” There’s a pause. A full minute, maybe two.

moonreflections: thank you.

You don’t know what that means. But he tips. More than you make in an entire shift. No demands. No dirty requests. Just a single thank you, and then:

moonreflections: I’ll come back tomorrow.

The session ends. The mask suddenly feels heavier. You peel it off slowly, wincing at the way your skin sticks to the underside. There’s a faint red outline across your cheeks and nose. The kind of mark that fades before morning but stays burned into your brain all the same. You pad to the kitchen on bare feet. Pour water from the sink. Stare out the window at the alley below your apartment where a cat darts between trash bins. This isn’t the life you wanted. It isn’t even the one you meant to settle for. It’s just the only one you can survive in. You tried other things. You really did. Retail. Office temp. Receptionist. They never lasted. You were too quiet, too anxious, too much and not enough all at once. The camera made things easier. You could disappear behind a screen, slip into the version of yourself that men wanted. You could be a fantasy, not a failure. But the money isn’t good. Not really. Not anymore. Your regulars have stopped tipping. The algorithm isn’t favoring your stream. And you refuse to take off the mask. Everyone always asks why. Some think it’s part of the act. Others get angry. "What are you hiding? You ugly or something?" They say it like a joke. You never laugh. Yes. That’s exactly what you’re hiding. You don’t think you’re beautiful. Not like the other girls. Not like the ones who don’t need masks or soft lighting or fake names. Your beauty feels borrowed, easily revoked. And sometimes you wonder if it isn’t even about beauty at all. Maybe you just don’t want to be known. Not really. Because being known means being seen. And being seen means being left. You carry your water back to your room. Look at the screen again. Still blank. moonreflections. The name pulses in your mind like a soft bruise. You don’t know who he is. But he hasn’t asked for anything. You power off the webcam. Shut down the light. Crawl into bed fully clothed, mask still in your hand. You think about his voice. Wait—no, he didn’t speak. Just text. Just words. But somehow you heard them anyway. Your phone buzzes. A payment notification. The amount makes your eyes widen. One session. Enough to cover your power bill and then some. It makes you feel sick. You press your face into the pillow. Whisper into the dark: “Maybe next week.” And for a second, you almost believe it.

under the table

You grew up in a super strict family. Your parents wouldn’t let you go anywhere without them, except school. You couldn’t have friends unless your family knew them, and boyfriends? Forget it. No boys were allowed near you, not even as best friends. The only exception was Sunghoon, the son of your mom’s best friend. He was the one boy you were allowed to hang out with.

Brewed to Be Yours | lhs

Café for7you followers event

Order for @firstclassjaylee ⋆˚✿˖°

One Trope Latte “co-workers to lovers” with Romance Cream #3. “Let me teach you how to make my order.” coming right up!!

- Brewed with a splash of slow-burn, a shot of soft gazes, and topped with whipped tension. This love’s been percolating behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed about Heeseung when you started at Brew & Bloom wasn’t his smile or his voice or the way his name tag always sat crooked on his apron. It was how distant he seemed.

He wasn’t cold—not exactly. Just quiet. Professional. Efficient.

You’d greet him during shift changes and he’d nod back, maybe throw in a soft “morning” if you were lucky. While the other baristas cracked jokes and swapped playlists during lulls in the rush, Heeseung stayed focused, movements clean and purposeful as he prepped drinks with a precision that bordered on obsessive.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice him.

He had this calm energy, the kind that settled a room without trying. He never raised his voice, never fumbled a cup. And while he never offered more than necessary, he always stepped in to help when you got flustered mid-order, sliding in with a quiet “I got this” before saving you from disaster with a perfectly timed espresso shot.

One day, during a rare slow morning shift, you found him behind the counter, organizing the syrup pumps. You were restocking lids when he glanced your way and said—completely out of nowhere—

“You always put too much ice in cold brew.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t look up. “It waters down the taste.”

You raised a brow. “So I’ve been serving sub-par drinks?”

His lips twitched like he wanted to smile but wasn’t ready to give you the satisfaction. “Only when it’s mine.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Well then, teach me, oh coffee master.”

That was the first time he smiled—really smiled—and it knocked the air out of your lungs.

It became a thing after that.

You’d tease him about his textbook pouring technique. He’d point out how your whipped cream swirls were “inconsistent at best.” Sometimes you caught him watching you during rushes, and if you looked back fast enough, he’d glance away like he hadn’t been looking at all.

But there was this moment—one snowy Tuesday morning—where the distance cracked.

You’d both opened together. It was dark outside, the snow thick and falling, and only the hum of machines filled the space between you.

You were still groggy, trying to prep the counter when he appeared next to you with a hot mug.

“Try this,” he said, sliding it toward you.

You blinked at the warm cup, then at him. “What is it?”

“My usual,” he said. “Made it for you.”

You took a cautious sip. Vanilla, a hint of cinnamon, and something rich you couldn’t place. You looked up at him, surprised. “This is really good.”

Heeseung shrugged, leaning on the counter beside you. “Let me teach you how to make my order.”

You raised a brow, heart thudding a little faster. “Right now?”

He nodded once. “You’ve been trying to guess it for two weeks. I figured I’d save you the trouble.”

He walked you through it, guiding your hand as you tamped the espresso, showing you the exact angle he poured his cold brew, the amount of syrup, the swirl of cream—“not stirred, that’s the secret,” he whispered like it was some national treasure recipe.

You weren’t sure when you started smiling. Maybe it was when he let his fingers linger over yours while showing you how to hold the cup. Maybe it was the way his voice softened when he said, “You’re actually paying attention this time.”

After you slid the finished drink back to him, he took a sip, gave an approving nod, and then looked at you a beat longer than necessary.

“It’s perfect,” he said. “You made it better than I do.”

You laughed. “Liar.”

“No, seriously.” He held the cup between both hands, eyes warm. “I think anything tastes better when it’s from you.”

Your heart stuttered.

“Wait—are you flirting with me?” you asked, half-joking.

Heeseung tilted his head. “Is it working?”

You flushed, caught somewhere between flustered and thrilled.

“Maybe.”

He grinned, sliding the cup closer to you. “Then tomorrow, I’ll teach you how to make my weird afternoon drink.”

“Only if we make it a date,” you said before you could stop yourself.

He looked surprised for half a second. Then, he nodded.

“Deal. But only if you make it.”

And just like that, the distance between you and Heeseung was gone—melted, maybe, like cream swirling into coffee.

The next day, the café was packed—blustery winds always drove people indoors with a craving for something warm. You barely had time to breathe between orders, let alone tease Heeseung like usual.

But he noticed anyway.

“You okay?” he asked, brushing past you as he grabbed another cup. His hand lightly touched the small of your back—barely there, but enough to send a flutter through your chest.

“Yeah. Just need a coffee the size of my face.”

He smirked. “I’ll make it for you after. The weird one. Deal’s a deal.”

You glanced at him. “You remember?”

He shot you a look like of course I do.

It was nearly dark by the time the café emptied out and the last chairs were stacked. You peeled off your apron and plopped down on a barstool as Heeseung moved behind the counter, sleeves rolled up and hair a little messy from the long shift.

“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Time for the weird one.”

You watched as he moved with that same focused rhythm—except this time, you noticed the way he looked up every few seconds, checking if you were watching. And you were.

He poured espresso over a citrusy syrup, added steamed oat milk, and topped it off with a light dusting of cardamom and orange zest.

You squinted. “Okay, that’s either genius or chaos.”

Heeseung handed you the cup with both hands, waiting. “Try it.”

You sipped. It was… strange. Bright. Spicy. Warm. But oddly comforting.

“I kinda love it,” you admitted, licking foam from your lip. “It’s like… a hug and a punch at the same time.”

Heeseung chuckled, sliding into the seat next to you, his thigh brushing yours.

“Exactly how I like my drinks. And maybe my people.”

Your eyes widened, heart stammering at the weight behind the words. Heeseung didn’t flirt like the others. He didn’t throw out compliments or cheesy lines. When he said something—he meant it.

“You’re not as distant as everyone thinks,” you said softly.

He looked down at his cup, then at you. “I’m just… careful with who I let in.”

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest that had nothing to do with coffee. “So… you let me in?”

Heeseung turned fully to face you, eyes steady. “I think I did the second you messed up my first drink and didn’t even apologize.”

You laughed, nudging his knee with yours. “Bold of you to assume I’m sorry.”

He reached for your hand under the counter, gently intertwining your fingers. “I’m not.”

You sat there in the quiet, sipping strange citrus coffee and holding hands across syrup-sticky counters, both of you smiling like idiots.

It wasn’t dramatic or loud or wild.

It was slow. Sweet. A little awkward.

And just like a really good cup of coffee—it was worth the wait.

Want to place an order? See here what Café for7you has to offer for you! ₊˚⊹♡

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barista’s note:

hi lovie!! tysm for requesting<33 I had fun brewing it ( i guess its obvious since I hit 1k words with it😅) BUT FIRST TIME WRITING FOR HEE I HOPE I YOU LIKE IT!૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა