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#domsub au
bwoahtastic · 2 months
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Max desperately needing a scene and Da isnt there, so he just shyly takes his folder of his limits and details and goes to jenson? Jenson is chill, jenson is said to be a good dom and is a friend of Dan. Max didn't talk to Dan,about having Jenson as a back up (he only listed Lewis and maybe Toto) but that day it just feels right to ask Jenson, he can't explain it!
Jenson being surprised when the sub quietly comes to see him and just shoved the folder into his hands. But jenson ofcourse helps and has Max safely knelt between his legs, on a soft pillow and just softly traces figures over Max's cheeks and scalp until he dozes off🥹
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blondiest · 5 months
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Forget about balls, what's your thoughts on the omegaverse?
HGJSDGHUSDJGHSID I'M SORRY THE PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE MORGAN ALL CANT COME TO THE PHONE RIGHT NOW. WHY? BECAUSE THEYRE DEAD.
uuhhhhhh i mean can i answer this so generally and say i think that it can be done perfectly well? i think it can be a compelling trope to use to explore characters having freak sex before actually fully confronting their feelings for one another? it imo is a classic setup for emotional conflict that is coupled with, again, freak sex. idk. i think the appeal of the trope is straightforward but i think an extremely formulaic execution often ends up... a) not interesting and b) not doing the ship justice. like if you go for a 100% straightforward dom/sub vibe i probably won't end up fucking that heavy with it, because i don't really find straightforwardly dom/sub vibes that compelling in general. i think, in an ideal world, there are some layers and complexities. there are some Subversions. etc. does this make sense.
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Sitting here at work, thinking. Thinking about sub!porsche some more because I just watched a tiktok about how some submissives want to be brats and some really, really don’t. They just want to be told what to do and then do it perfectly. They just want to be good.
And if that is not just Porsche in a nutshell I don’t know what is. He just wants to be good for Kinn.
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ijvnyxcy · 1 year
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hey hey~ new episode published^^ i hope y’all take time to read it and stay tuned for next episodes! i can't post weekly colored comics. so I decided to make au extra comics that i can share with you along the series.
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forthelostones · 4 months
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𝚙𝚝.𝚜𝚒𝚡 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆
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⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡
synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?
warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby, domsub!abby, sexual themes, jealousy, spitting, strap-on, hate sex/makeup sex, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.
an: hi everyone, i appreciate you all sooo soo much. happy friday... it's getting real this entire ff is on ao3 as well x
(no y/n)
wc: 3.4k
Abby heard your door close, knowing it was time for you to leave for your flight. She froze as if you didn’t know she was in her living room listening to every move you made on the other side of the wall. Your footsteps traveled to be placed silently in front of her door and halted just as you knocked. “Abigail?” 
She concentrated on the purr of your voice vibrating against the wooden door. 
“Abby, I’m leaving, um, you probably are sleeping or — I don’t know, anyways, I left you some stuff so you could feel less alone while I’m gone. Um, it’s stuff I think you'd like. I know it’s not going to solve anything but let’s talk soon. Please.” 
You wait for the knob to turn, for the door to open and reveal the stubborn woman, anything, but it never happens. On the other side, Abby was standing with her hand on the door frame, absorbing your voice into her consciousness, missing you more than ever. She so badly wanted to open it and hold you, and assure you she was just being stupid, but she wasn’t ready for it. 
She waited a few minutes before opening the door to reveal a small tote bag heavy with glass. Abby wrapped her hand around the handle and peered out the door as if she would find you in the hallway, waiting for her. The bag was filled with an assortment of miss-match containers, housing different food items with post-its describing each one. Turkey, Mac and Cheese, Stuffing, Brussels sprouts, and Cranberry Sauce. She traced the delicate intricacies of your handwriting that she had seen many times before, but especially now seemed special. She removed the sticky paper and placed it on her dining table, placing the corresponding container above it.
In the following days Abby received every text message you sent her, she simply didn’t care to read them beyond the notification on her screen. Her anger boiled more and more, irritated at your persistence while simultaneously needing it as reassurance that you still care. 
abby, i’m sorry. let’s talk, call me please. 
hey, getting on the plane now so i can’t talk for the next two hours. 
just landed, i can call soon if that’s what you want.
all ready for bed. 
Attached was a photo she felt tempted to look at but didn’t. Her phone rang multiple times throughout the day with your name on the caller ID. She didn’t feel compelled to decline it, she let it ring until the ringtone stopped. She did exactly what she said she was going to do — study. She knew it was the one thing she could wholeheartedly commit to now. 
In the middle of studying her phone rang over five times and one notification for a voicemail appeared on the screen. She looked at your name on her phone, held a deep breath in her chest, and listened to a voice softened by tears. 
“Abby, hi. Just thinking about you and I know I’m the last person you want to hear from,” You paused. “I want us to talk. I just… I miss you.” 
Abby stopped the message and set her study materials aside, quickly pressing play again. “I miss you. I wish we were together right now. I’m going to make this right, I promise. Please, just give me some time.” 
Abby brought her fist up to her dripping nose and tightened her mouth into a thin line. The feelings that she had for you were inescapable. Her heart collapsed in her ribcage, smashing against the paper bones that felt like they were cracking as she dabbed the tears floating in her eyes. She went to all the unread messages and saw the photo of you lying in your childhood bedroom with an all-white long john set and a modest smile on your face. Your eyes were puffy, or was she imagining it? She wanted you to break apart like she was. Abby observed your grin, that revealed a more narrow sadness that she could place on her own mouth. 
We can talk when you return. 
You shuffle down the familiar hallway, bags in hand, trembling with uncertainty you quickly identified as a fear of losing Abby. Your flight left you disheveled and bubbled with anxiety, making you stop in the bathroom before calling an uber, and polishing yourself up. But no time in the bathroom could remove the dark circles under your eyes or take away the sadness you harbored.  You were fearful that if you waited a moment longer she’d forget about you — so you held your duffle and carry on, hastily knocking at a door that was once always unlocked for you. 
Abby pulled on the handle revealing her pristine appearance. Blonde hair tied into a braid, attached to the middle of her head, cascading down her spine. Her lips were moisturized, plush, pink, and waiting to be kissed. She clasped her hands in one another, arms bulging out of her black tank top clinging to her even skin. As a formality, she gestured for you to sit down as she took your bags effortlessly. After setting them down on the table she joined you on the couch, legs crossed in thick grey sweats. 
“I missed you.” You admit, inching closer to her. 
“I did too. I missed you too.” She said shyly, slightly shrugging. 
You walk your fingers to her knee and rest them there, embarrassed. 
“So, I’m sorry Abby—” 
“No, all of this is my fault. I was tipsy and out of line, I misconstrued your feelings for me. I shouldn’t have pressured you to just get rid of Ellie. Instead, I should have explained to you how much I really like you. And maybe my inexperience just made me want you even more… Like, I can’t do casual, or I mean I never had the opportunity to. I just… I wanted more with you — I want more with you. I don't wanna share you.” She ropes her pinky into yours. 
“My sweet Abby,” You sigh, cupping her jaw. “I should have paid more attention.” 
“I think I could have been more clear on what I wanted out of you, y’know out of us.” 
“I like you Abby and a part of me likes Ellie too. She’s fun and that was my appeal to her, knowing I didn’t have to get roped into something complex or serious. But I like you…so much, you’re all I could think about when I was away. I’m not used to anyone wanting me this way.” 
“I want you. I only want you.” She smiled. 
“You do?” 
“So much, I want you to be my girlfriend, seriously. Do you want that?” 
You freeze at the question, making Abby recede into herself briefly, face dropping into a premature frown.
“I don’t know how good of a girlfriend I could be to you. I don’t want to make you feel how I did that past week.” She leans closer and kisses the backside of your hand. 
“That’s inevitable, we will have times where things go the opposite of what we want, that’s okay but we need to be on the same page. Do you want this?” 
You feel a rock drop to the bottom of your stomach. 
“Abby I don’t know if I can fully say that I want that in this moment. Can I think about it?” 
“Of course you can.” 
She leaned in, using your thighs for leverage, resting her lips against yours. You melt into her sweet, strawberry-glazed lips, relishing her taste. Being away from her made a week feel like a year and you savored this kiss intending to remember it for later. Your hands come up to her neck and pull her in, pushing your tongue past her teeth and into her mouth, eliciting a moan. It was deep and from her core, exposing how much she missed you. She presses her hand on the back of the couch, the other one behind you on the arm, unfolding her legs and laying on top of you. She lifted her far leg so that it was hanging off the edge of the couch, crotch pressed against the top of your thigh, her body weight crushing you sweetly. 
Abby’s hand comes up the side of your ribs making you shutter. Her rough fingertips leave pale imprints on your warm skin. You lift your hips into her core and she moans into your left ear. A sweet blow of air and arousal fills your space causing the parting of your lips to replicate the pleasure. “I missed this.” Her raspy voice rang. 
You reach in the band of her sweats and brush her abdomen towards her clit. No panties. Her thighs were damp with sweat, her lips wet with slick and you wasted no time parting them. Abby wrapped a fistful of your hair into her hand and tugged, leaving your mouth agape from the sudden aggression. 
“Fuck me.” She demanded. 
You feel your pussy clench. Abby's change in demeanor put a bit of fear in you, knowing the woman was strong enough to have her way with you at any moment. 
“Come on. Fuck me.” 
Her hand unravels from your hair to your jaw to open your mouth. Her lips purse to expel a string of spit which you accept happily. Her lips were sloppy, smacking into yours as she stroked her clit against your fingers, hunching for more contact. You lifted her shirt up to reveal a light pink lace bralette, exposing her erect nipples. You bring your lips to the fabric, and she trembles. She removes the lace top and forces the stiff bud between your teeth, making her wince as you lean back, biting and stretching it. Her pussy left tacky, wet splotches in her pants.
“Let me get my strap.” She said, moving away quickly. You watch her firm ass switch from side to side while she marches to her bedroom. You sit up, mouth wet with desire, not hesitating to remove your bottoms.
The black harness houses a clear dildo that curved upwards, just how Abby liked it, reaching for her g-spot. She handed it over to you to strap on and laid back on the couch. Her eyes became hungry as she saw your perfect body displaying the new appendage. You walk towards her dripping with irrefutable sexual appeal before ripping off her bottoms and beginning to finger her pussy. 
“Don’t tease me. I’m already wet.” 
You climb on the couch, slipping the curved cock inside, splaying your body weight on top of her. Her skin blushed as she cupped the back of your ass, reaching to bring you closer. Her cunt filled the room with obscene sounds that made yours shake with anticipation.
“Please.” She repeated. 
“Please what?” You asked, catching her off guard amid moans.
“Make me cum.” 
Abby’s groomed fingernails dragged along the outer rim of your back. She started raising her hips and fucking against you, her grip became deadly, indicating she was close to cumming. Abby loved the sounds of your grunts in her ear, knowing the strap was bruising your clit, making you needy too. Abby’s eyes retreated into her skull but returned quickly to your sightline as you extract the cock from her cunt. The clear plastic became covered with opaque gloss, leaving Abby twitching and kneeling over. 
“Fuck you.” She laughed, short-winded. 
The strong woman laid on her stomach and began arching her back. Her smooth, florescent skin wrapped around each muscle beautifully. You rub her ass, starting from the midpoint of her back to the underside of her bottom. Abby whimpered at your gentleness only to be startled by an impulsive slap, instantly turning her pink. Your finger hovers over her lips, spreading them open like petals of a soft rose, examining how perfect her pussy is while it’s dripping.
“You really missed me huh?” 
“I did. I missed you sooo much.” She whined, completely transforming unsuspectingly submissive. You reach under her and thump her clit with your palm to which she yelps. She stretches like a kitten and curves her back even more. Another slap and she throws her head over the arm of the couch where she begins to reside at. 
Without warning you plunge your index and ring finger inside of her making your name spill out of her mouth. You curve your fingers to hook behind her pelvic bone, petting the sweet sponge inside of her. All you could think about was how she embarrassed you, ignored you until the last minute, and left your mind wondering. This motivated you to fuck her even harder, and you started to believe this is what Abby wanted all along. 
“I can—can’t take it, ple—” She struggled to form a coherent sentence. 
She reached her hand back to stop you from going any deeper. You snatched her thick wrist into your hand and pinned it onto her lower back. You positioned your leg on the cushion and slipped the dildo into her. Abby never felt so overwhelmed with pleasure. The constraints you put on her made her mentally weak, leaving her immobilized. The pain made her numb and left her humming uncontrollably. You weren’t even stroking her pussy but pounding it until the skin impacted by the strap transformed from peach to lilac. Abby’s mouth was wide open, gasping for air as a knot tied itself in her stomach. 
“Let—le— l—me, cum, I—”  
The blabbering woman stiffened as an orgasm came over her body. But that didn’t stop you from milking her cunt into overdrive. She hoisted herself up on the arm, but you refused to let her run away. Your hands came to her hips and brought her to her breaking point, again. Your name filled her cozy apartment like sweet music. You pull out, leaving her gaping and dripping, leaving a delicious view. Exhausted, you fall back on the other end of the couch. Abby rolls over, legs agape, head thrown back, chest rising and falling quickly. Her cunt was bright red and abused, just like she deserved. 
“Satisfied?” You spit. 
She lifts her head, hair disheveled, and smiles at you with a sinister grin. 
“I didn’t know I could cum that many times,” She admits. 
Her eyes darted to the cock still strapped on your hips, covered in her cum. She bent over and placed her head on your thigh, parallel to the dildo. You brush her messy hair out of her face just before she wraps her lips around it and sucks it clean. You didn’t know how attractive it could be to see her in this way, with her eyes locking into yours, moaning at her own actions, making your cunt wetter. 
“Let’s have a shower.” She offered. 
The water ran warm onto your neck and lower body as Abby’s tongue traced circles into your neck. Her wide hands wrapped around your wet waist, desperate for more of you. 
“I missed you even though…” She began to whisper. 
“Even though?” 
“You pissed me off, and made me emotional.” 
She pulls away from your ear and brushes the tip of her nose against your cheek with her tongue following shortly behind, melting into a kiss. 
“I know, you’re my needy, emotional girl.” 
You slick her drenched hair back and thumb her forehead. Her body comes forward to smash you against the cold tile with a thud. She slides her hand over your belly to your throbbing clit. “For a minute, I actually hated you. I wanted to rip you apart.” She groaned. 
“Here’s your opportunity, Abigail.” 
Abby wraps your leg around her waist to get a better angle. She hovers her lips over your mouth, teasing you as you close your eyes to lean in for a kiss. She giggles at how ridiculous you look. Then, she presses her teeth into your skin, followed by soothing kisses down to your breast. She puckers her lips around your areola, with her eyes gazing up at you, filled with fury. Just as she’s about to stick her tongue out, her fingers replace her mouth and tug on the puffy buds. You press your back deeper into the tiles as if you could sink into them. 
“Can I ask you something?” 
“Anything.” You wince while her fingers hold onto your pebbled nipples. 
“After you sent that photo, you touched yourself didn’t you?” She jerks your nipples. 
“Ah—ah, I— I did before I took it.” 
“What did you think of?” She asked. 
“You, I thought of you,” you replied. 
Her tongue slithered out of her mouth to flick your nipple. “Keep going.” 
“You… you were kissing me, all… over…” 
“Hmmm.” Her lips puckered and suctioned. 
“I just. I, Abby,” you moaned.
“If you stop, I stop.” 
“You were kissing me w—with my hands tied… tied up,” 
She moved to your other breast and sucked, causing your hole to clench around nothingness. 
“Abby, I imagined you fucking me until my legs went limp.” 
She smiled and brought herself back to your lips, kissing and biting them with no care. 
“Even at odds, I’m still on your mind.” 
She inserts her fingers into you slowly, stretching you out. You grip onto her shoulders for stability as she begins to pump in and out of you. She spreads her legs to ground herself and thrusts her fingers deeper inside of you, pounding the fat of your pussy, creating a slapping noise in rhythm with the beating shower. 
Abby bared her teeth as she increased her speed. She was grunting like she was in the gym doing a challenging set, mumbling words you were too sexually drunk to decipher. The water fizzled into a heavy steam, crashing into your wrinkled skin and creating a thick haze above your head. The humidity left you faint as Abby worked harder to make you cum with no comfort — all in her timing. Suddenly, she let go of the leg she had been hoisting up and wrapped her hand around your throat. Your moans became light and airy as you gasped for relief. 
“You’re mine. You know that right?” She declared. 
You nodded as you came up on the wave of sexual bliss. Your knees fell together, weakening as the woman continued to cockily spit at you, a side of her you never knew before. 
“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this. I don’t give a fuck, no one else will ever make you cum like this.” 
And that’s what you did, cum, with a deep primal groan accompanying it. She continued to stroke your pussy, until you caught your breath, just before she fell to her knees in the tub to lick up the mess she created. The curve in the bridge of her nose made a unique friction against your sensitive clit while her tongue slid up and down your folds. You turned the water off, and the both of you ran to the bedroom before the cool air caught up to you.
Abby dried her body and hair with a nearby towel and passed one to you. She flopped onto her mattress, with her head wet onto her jersey pillowcase awaiting your body. 
“Are you still mad at me?” You ask. 
“Nothing a little cuddling could fix. Come ‘ere.” She said. 
You straddled her waist to lay down on her soft, hot body and tucked your mouth into the crook of her neck. Abby placed her hand on the back of your neck and smoothed out your baby hairs there. She adjusted her body underneath you, unintentionally pressing her mound into yours, extracting a slight gasp from your throat. 
“You okay?” She asks. 
“Yes.” You mutter. She lifts upwards again, spreading your legs apart and exposing your clit. You look at her sly grin, she mimics you and spreads her legs open as well. You lay down onto her shoulder, breath hitting her neck, and buck your hips into her, your clit being tickled by the blonde’s low-trimmed pussy. You two perform a dance, following an unspoken choreography, pressing your cunts into each other. 
“I need you.” Abby moans. 
You guide Abby’s knees to her chest and turn so your ass is in her view, straddling her leg, spreading your slits open with your fingers, and placing your cunt onto hers — hot and needy. The wave of your ass brushing against her pussy made her mouth fall open in disbelief. Abby tucks her hands behind her head as she watches you use her pussy like a pillow and hump it freely just as she likes it. 
“Fuck, Abby.” 
Abby blushed at your words, watching your hips move like water, eyes closed and getting lost in the pleasure. 
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ideaofheaven · 10 months
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— after 2AM (choi minho x reader)
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Synopsis: Choi Minho and you never see eye to eye. After countless troubles you two caused in class, the professor pairs you for a group project as a form of ironic punishment… Which brings you to a heated night of push and pull, hours before the deadline.
Pairing: Choi Minho x fem!reader
Genre: university!AU, enemies to lovers-ish, smut, then it gets kinda fluffy at the end??
Word count: 9682
Warnings: alcohol, they’re in uni, profanities, they are HORNY, mutual masturbation, video call sex, domsub undertones, explicit dirty talk (implied exhibitionism, breeding, and a tiiiiny bit of degradation kink), panic attack - reader experienced post-coital dysphoria for a bit :(
AN: sometimes your thirsty hours turn into a 9k mutual masturbation fic - jk, I really enjoy writing this one, especially the dialogue. I hope you like it! [06/30: did some minor edits on typos and whatnot]
Mini part 2 here
+++
"Out of every topic, you picked this? Are you mad?"
First and foremost, Choi Minho and you never get along.
There are abundant reasons why you can't stand him. You don't share too many classes with him, but when you do it always ends up with heated and pointless arguments. During each one of your presentations, Minho will raise a hand and play the role of devil's advocate, earning intrigued whispers from your classmates. Until one day, the professor had enough and paired you up in a project, much to your unheard protests.
Quite inevitably, it ends up in half-hearted discussion through the Zoom Meeting, only two days before the presentation.
"What? Got a problem with that?" You snap while still uploading source data into your shared drive. Then, a bark of mocking laughter pierces your ears, positively grating your nerves.
"A problem? There's no theory that correlates to it. Guess we're not having any presentations are we?" 
You roll your eyes at the sight of his irksome sneer. It twists his usually bearable face into horribly displeasing. Minho's eyes spark alight with mockery, and you wonder why your classmates keep saying Minho "has the most tender eyes ever." Sounds like a different person altogether to you.
"We can find connections through other eras." You push through.
He rolls his eyes. "Which means you're doubling our work." 
"Check the drive." You say through gritted teeth, barely holding yourself to spit harsher words. Minho does as instructed, albeit still murmuring curses under his breath and hand rustling his gelled hair, quiet but purposely audible, perhaps just to push your buttons more. But you choose to wait. 
As expected, his eyebrows raise in surprise before he scoffs, "someone did their homework."
"And someone's a useless ass." Minho whips a glare at his own laptop camera - at you. Before he can say anything, you mute him. And you can see him biting his lips, holding back more words, solidifying your win.
"Shut up and get to work, Choi."
Then, his mic icon goes on.
"Fuck you."
You smirk. With a finger on your lips, you speak to him like one to a child. "Shhh. Be useful for once, will you?"
Both of you are petty and nothing sort of professional, but you have no intention to be the bigger person, not for Choi Minho. Begrudgingly, he turns away, and an icon with a familiar photo appears in the google docs.
That should motivate him to work.
His voice suddenly rings. "Hey."
He hasn't typed a single word on your shared google docs, you note with cynicism.
"What?"
"Your vocabulary sucks." Then in a douchebag way you know only Choi Minho can manage, he deletes most of your bullet points as you stifle a scream. He did not - "Let me be useful and change it up for you.” He ends with a cruel smirk.
This is not going to be easy.
+++
After a short-handed discussion, both of you decide to work in the student center. The next day, grudging and rather worn out from your last class, you force yourself to go. As you rise from your chair, a voice calls you out.
“You look like you’re gonna have some fun.” Kibum snickers and Jonghyun stifles a laugh on his own as well. You pout at your classmates.
“And you know exactly why.” You mutter with a roll of your eyes.
“I paired up with him last semester and got a perfect score, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jonghyun shrugs, gaining glares from both you and Kibum.
“Easy for you to say, he’s like a puppy around you.” Kibum scoffs, his platinum-dyed hair covering his eye, which must be rolling with annoyance. He then turns to you, “I’d like to say I feel you, but Minho really is worse with you.”
“Like, in comparison, he actually tolerates you all this time.” The shorter man adds to Kibum, perplexed.
“Right?!” He shouts, all dramatic and making you groan. “Seriously though, it’s a dick move from professor Lee.”
“To be frank, I can’t see myself finishing this assignment in one piece.”
“You should tell Minho to drop the class.” Kibum says mischievously, only to get pinched by the male with short brown hair, who’s impatiently shushing him. “Ouch, I’m just saying.”
Clutching your bag strap, you think about it for a second before waving the idea off. “Not happening. Professor Lee will still kill me.”
Your two male friends give off different reactions, Kibum is still finding ways to alleviate your pain (or to add more trouble), but instead, Jonghyun moves closer to put his arms around you.
“Listen, (Y/n), he’s not that bad. You’ll see.”
Chuckling at the positivity, you pat his arms in response. “Not sure about it, but okay.”
After arriving at the end of the hall, you go on separate ways with the boys. While they can go grab some dinner, you drag yourself to the meeting spot. The student center is quite empty, and to be expected because the facility is not too popular in the evenings. You find a table to sit at, and wait for your project partner.
You already have your laptop set up when Minho appears. Unlike you, he seems rather refreshed. He’s wearing an oversized hoodie and trousers for his long legs. In his hand is a large plastic bag which he dumps unceremoniously onto the table.
"What's this?"
"No 'hi' or something?" The male starts, rolling his eyes, with a hand on his hip. "Some snacks, in case we need it."
Oh. Resisting an urge to rummage through the colorful packages inside the plastic bag, you throw a doubtful look his way instead.
"Um, thanks."
As if not sensing your hostility, he shrugs in resignation, mumbling "sure" before sitting down and grabbing his own laptop from his bag.
Without much preamble, you both start working. Minho manages to focus on his screen, and the momentum breaks only when he calls your name to confirm a thing or two. At some point, he grabs a bag of chips for him to munch on, not forgetting to nudge the plastic bag in your direction. “Have you taken any?”
“Oh. Right.” You mumble, picking some chocolate stick that catches Minho’s attention for a split second.
Once in a while, your gaze drifts over to him, almost anticipating a weird movement or him slacking off. However, the only strange action you find is Minho blowing air towards the dark strands of hair covering his eyes.
In all actuality, you expect the atmosphere to be more sour and less productive. Yes, there's a strange vibe in the air, but it's more similar to awkwardness to cause discomfort. 
Until suddenly, an insistent cursor on your shared google docs starts typing words that don't match your work. What the hell, anonymous tiger?
Growing exasperated, your fingers clack on the keyboard, furiously erasing the latest paragraph.
"What the fuck - I just wrote that!" The familiar voice shouts, and there's a split second when you think you should just kick him out, then do the presentation alone in class. That wouldn't be so bad.
"It's all wrong. And where are these photos coming from? Don't just put the bullet points there, they're meant to be the conclusion."
Minho takes a deep breath, shoulders visibly rising until he channels out his frustration with a noise that almost sounds like a growl. That sort of thing unfazed you, but you're still glad the student center is mostly empty.
"Listen, we can make a better statement than that." His eyes are like flames, and you can’t help but stare back and, as he wants, listen.
He pulls a chair, nodding to you in a silent gesture. Initially, you hesitate but you go over to him anyway. Minho clicks on the laptop and a new window pops up, showing a detailed page from a book.
"From this theory, I found a connection that can help us." With that, the temperamental male turns into a whole different person. He briefly explains the information he’s gotten from the book, all the while giving you the room to take it in. Then, with unmistakable excitement, he begins his train of thoughts he wants to implement into the assignment. With every sentence he says, your anger subsides, turning into something akin to awe. Not that you will admit it.
One thing for sure; for the first time, you think this project might work.
As he finishes, you blink rapidly. Minho leans back with his elbow on the desk, relaxed and undeniably proud of himself. You send a glare his way.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
His face scrunches, as if that was not the words he expected after the successful presentation.
"First, I wasn't done with the research." He says, eyebrows furrowing, then he points a finger at you. "Second, you muted me every time I said a goddamn word."
Oh, here we go again. Your two hands shot in the air, feigning a defense in front of the frowning man.
"Not my fault I don't want to hear your complaints."
There's a flash of something wild on Minho's face which you identify as his troublemaking expression. But as he leans closer, you realize it too late.
"This is why you should listen, (Y/n)."
In a snap, there's a pulling on your ear. Minho pinches your ear and pulls like you were a 5 year old with tantrums. The low level of pain causes you to winch, but it's the electricity from his touch that makes you jump back.
"Ow! What the hell!" You sputter and he snickers like this is elementary school, going with the theme in your head.
Satisfied, Minho releases you. But his hand lingers and it brushes the side of your neck, prompting you to hold a shiver from the ticklish sensation. It would be a drag to deal with more of his antics, so you get up from the chair to glare at him pointedly.
"You're a freak."
He challenges, fire in his eyes, "Care to say that again?"
Because you're not a university student who's not petty, you smirk and take the bait.
"You're a freak - hey!" His large hand pulls at your sleeve, halting your step. The sudden momentum startles you and you lose your footing. Ultimately, your body stumbles and falls with a yelp, and your bum hits the chair.
Grumbling, you shake off the shock before you attempt to get up once again. Then, a groan comes from beside you, too close, freezing you on the spot. A hand holds the side of your waist, and your suspicion is confirmed. Of course you did not land on the chair, you end up sitting on Minho's thighs, your back pressing against his.
"Getting comfortable?" Minho asks, his deep voice brushing your ears, and much to your dismay, you can imagine the leer that accompanies his voice. In panic and confusion, you attempt to leave his lap in a rush, only to be stopped.
"Can you get that hand off of me?" You ask, turning on him.
"I don't know, can I?"
His dark eyes clash with your glaring ones, gleaming with mischief and something else you can't quite decipher. All you can feel is his hand tightening its grip on your side, and the warm air of his breath, clouding your mind.
But this is Choi Minho, and you do not like Choi Minho, whatever the situation is. With a renewed willpower you push yourself off of him and be on your feet.
"We're wasting time." You declare. "Send me all your notes, we need to get going."
Minho only smiles sweetly, a one eighty degree difference from the man before, which only leaves you more frustrated. As he dives back into his work, you hide behind your laptop, calming your racing heart and ignoring the surge of familiarity you feel.
+++
The crowd was growing in number and in anger, too. The boys from the EXO house became more agitated with every word Minho said, filled with provocation and mockery. Jonghyun and Jinki were nowhere to be found, probably looking for chances to steal the mic. Taemin and Kibum were definitely loitering around the drinks bar.
You had no choice.
“Whoa, is that Jongin puking?!”
As expected, your shrill voice was enough to distract them before you literally dragged Minho by his jean jacket.
“Let me go,” he grunted, but his alcohol-induced state prevented him from doing it himself. Your smaller stature managed to pull him towards an empty room, which later you figured out to be the storage.
He tried to wrestle out of your grip, muttering curse words at no one in particular and you finally had enough. With both your hands, you slapped his cheeks, which were damp with sweat.
“You wouldn’t be able to win that fight.” You said sternly.
Minho froze, and while he was in that state, you quickly went out to get a glass of water. When you returned, he’s already blinking his eyes a few times, a sign of his returning sobriety.
And a sign you should leave the premises soon.
You handed him the glass, urging him to drink as you murmured, “I should go. This party sucks and, godammit, I just wanna go home. Drink this and… I don’t know, stay safe, I guess.”
The taller man drank slowly, but his eyes kept gazing at yours. When he finished, there was a soft look in his visage, and he suddenly smiled. Sleepy and tired, but sweet nonetheless.
Flustered, you left the glass in his hands, and ran away from the storage. The day after, Minho grumbled about his headache and loopholes in his memory from that party to Kibum and Jinki, and you sighed in relief.
+++
Sorry for the late reply! Was watching the campus baseball team
I added a few slides right before the first conclusion
Tell me what you think 🤔
These are okay.
But don't add more on that. We're almost reaching 40 slides.
Who said I'm gonna add more? 🙄
Idk, you seemed ready to add 10 more just to spite me.
Oh. 
Why didnt I think of that
Are you free tonight?
Lets review the whole thing
Duh, tomorrow's the presentation
Do you think I'm that stupid lol
Unlike you I care about my grades
Yeah?
And you think I don't?
You don't seem to care if you get me into trouble
Right. Whatever.
Unlike you I'm not petty
Idc who I work with I can get my job done
I didn't mean it like that.
I'll join you at 11 pm
+++
There's a discomfort that can't be spoken.
You scroll through the slides, apprehensive not of the contents, but of the author, the one that finally snapped at you. Perhaps you deserved it. On the other hand, Minho should stop basing his mood on sports game results, it's stupid as hell.
Five minutes to eleven, the preparation is done. You could just text Minho there's nothing left to do, and both of you could catch some needed rest.
Suddenly, a loud beep rings in your ear. And you don't think twice before admitting Minho into your Zoom meeting.
"Hey, sorry for the wait." He speaks, voice crackling from the signal before it becomes more stable. "I just took a bath."
"At this hour?" You ask, disbelieving his decision, but trying not to stare for too long.
"Yeah. I just got back from a soccer game. Jonghyun's invitation."  He shrugs, letting the towel drape against his broad shoulders, which may or may not be distracting.
Faster than a cat on a mouse, you force yourself to stop staring at him, and when you see Minho, there's an inquisitive expression on his gaze. He dismisses it quickly, relieving you.
"How's our work going?"
You clear your throat. "I'd finished checking them, maybe you want to see it first before we decide on the parts distribution."
"Sure."
And everything is awkward again.
Granted, it's not the most amicable atmosphere. Minho mumbles to himself, reading each point with focused eyes and not even minding your existence. After what seems like forever, he mentions a few slides that need to be double-checked, which extends your work time.
As the night heightens and the cold intensifies, you wish you were brave enough to break the ice.
Then, a loud yawn echoes in your ear.
"Can we continue this later?" Minho asks through more yawns. "It's like, almost 1 AM right now."
The time reminder doesn't quite surprise you. "Do you have morning classes?"
Minho checks his phone. "No."
"Then we're still doing this."
Your work partner groans, prompting you to hide a tiny smile at his antics. But suddenly, Minho raises his voice, startling you.
"Why do you hate me so much?" He snaps.
Something clenches in your stomach, and you force yourself to look into Minho's face on the screen. His eyebrows are furrowed, demanding answers which you are not sure you could provide.
"I don't."
"Then," he stops to hide a yawn. "Why?"
"I don't know." You pause. "But I don't hate you. Not at all."
His eyebrows shoot up, then he sighs.
“You’re just confused.”
“Yeah.” You pause. “I think I am… Like, really confused.”
Minho smiles in response, almost in relief. His eyes crinkle softly into crescents, like a drowsy pair of moons, and something within you softens at the sight. He should smile more often.
You quietly let out a relieved sigh on your own.
"Good. I'm taking a nap," he declares all of a sudden, standing up from his chair and ignoring your belated complaints. The camera view changes into something similar to a found footage movie, all shaky and blurry. Once it stabilizes, a sight of Minho clears up, showing him leaning back against a mountain of cushions and pillows on his bed. Then he sighs contently, the sound a little too soft in your ears.
But, he seems more comfortable on the soft bed. Unfair.
"Choi Minho, get back to the google docs or I'll - "
"You'll what? Mute my microphone?" A sleepy laugh. "I'm taking a nap. You and your ugly pajamas can suck it."
What the fuck.
"Excuse me? This is loungewear."
"Let me see." He laughs and you waste no time before adjusting your webcam to pan from your short sleeved top to the pants, all having the same pattern. They're cute, but from the way he frowns Minho doesn't seem too adoring of them.
"They're pajamas." 
"It's loungewear, you caveman." You pout.
His full lips curl in a sneer, then he speaks with a voice surprisingly lower than before.
"Well I do prefer sleeping with no clothes."
Your mouth shuts. After a moment too long of trying not to imagine your classmate in his choice sleepwear, you grunt, exasperated.
"Whatever gets you off." You sigh, but internally cursing at your choice of words. Minho grins.
"You mean whatever gets you off."
"Shut up."
"Then mute me."
You let out a sarcastic laugh. "Mute yourself."
You stare at the pixelated image of Minho on the screen and he mirrors your actions, with a gaze more intense and drowning. It's as if he's not going to let this go easily. You are expecting more snides, but instead, with relaxed stretches and sighs, he leans back against the mountain of pillows.
"Okay." He shrugs. "Wake me up in 10 minutes."
The effort to speak fails as your throat tightens and you wish to go out, visit his dorm and strangle him in person. But Minho's already closing his eyes, tiredness taking over the man fast. And finally, you can relax.
If you're in a better state, you would have raked your mind to see how the fuck you let Choi Minho affect your this much.
At some point, you check Minho's camera, and sneak a time to take in his features. You won’t deny his handsome face and glorious physique. A small face, doe eyes, plush lips, broad shoulders, long legs that’s just unfair - okay yeah he’s hot. But it never occurs to you he'd look this calm even while sleeping. Gone are the angry lines on his eyebrows, and the tense clench of his jaw, all that’s left is a serene face that you don’t mind talking about for hours - okay yeah he’s still hot even when he’s sleeping.
If only he weren't such an asshole when he's awake.
Returning to your work, you never notice the rustling noises from Minho's mic. So when you see the Zoom window, you let out a yelp, surprised at Minho's face on your screen, peering with inquisition.
He laughs, and oh, his voice is huskier now after a short amount of sleep. "Surprised?"
"Uh, has it been 10 minutes already?"
"Not yet, but I can't sleep. Not with you staring all the time."
"Says the man who’s been staring at me for god knows how long." You respond, because the best thing liars can do is turn the table on others.
And Minho doesn't even deny it.
"Oh, yeah, about that."
"What?"
"Nothing." The quick response combined with his avoidance doesn't convince you in the slightest, and one wary look from Minho says he's well aware of it. After a few awkward seconds, he relents.
"That top, it's kind of…" he trails off, fingers touching his own t-shirt hem to emphasize a point. You look down, and - oh. The top button had slipped off, hence the generous view of cleavage that caught Minho's attention.
But you're in no mood to be embarrassed.
"That's the way you style it." You spit the lie with oozing confidence on a high level of bullshit. "You got any complaints?"
Minho's eyebrows furrow, obviously not buying it, but more amused. He’s holding back a mischievous looking smile, and despite not liking it, you have to suppress a bubbling excitement. Excitement of what, you have absolutely no idea. Or rather, you refuse to acknowledge you have fun teasing Choi Minho.
"No, not at all. And (Y/n)?"
You only move your eyes, not enjoying the apprehension because what now? As he finds your gaze, he smirks.
"That loungewear does look good on you."
You’re out of words to respond. As you ignore the jolt in your stomach, you let him be smug, satisfied, and winning. You don’t care. 
However, minutes later, a small part of you relents and basks in the compliment in private, sharing little smiles to yourself.
Unbeknownst to you, Minho doesn't have his eyes on the presentation anymore.
+++
As late night approaches, your productivity wanes.
Minho is back on the pillows, playing on his phone while you both take a break. Swayed by the night air and your sore back, you're now sitting on the bed too, but still facing the desk which is right by the mattress. After the pajama accident, you decided to wrap yourself in blankets, and when Minho saw your cocooned form he laughed, voice like crackling fire. Truth to be told, your blankets turn cold in comparison to the warmth he exuded.
The train of thoughts grinds to a halt when Minho chimes.
"Done for tonight?"
The honest and spontaneous answer would be a yes, it's done and we can now sleep and rest. But the hazy night lulls you further into a state of daze, making you wonder of the unthinkable.
"I still want to look something up. You can leave though, it's fine." Hook, line -
"Let me hang out with you for a bit."
Sinker.
What are you doing?
Silence stretches, and you're positive Minho is doing that stare again, the one that is construed as smoldering.
"Not too feisty late at night, are you?"
Minho has left his pillows, now sitting upright and staring directly at the camera - at you. There you decide confidence looks fucking good on Choi Minho.
"You know what they say, nothing good happens after 2 AM." You avert your gaze from his burning ones, and it's bold of you to assume you could escape.
"Oh? Any cautionary tales?"
"Not exactly." You hum, "Maybe unfiltered conversations?"
"That can be fun, though. It's like you're drunk, but with no alcohol." He rambles. You take notice of the sway in his sentence and open the Zoom window to check your partner. Despite the dim light, you can see the way his eyes droop with sleepiness, along with his messy mop of dark hair, and it's rather adorable.
"I think someone's guilty of that."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, there's no booze here." He offers a crooked grin and the expression turns into a thoughtful one. "Do you drink?"
"What's it to you?"
He shrugs. "Just curious."
"Sometimes." You finally say.
There's a moment of silence before Minho rustles in his bed, sitting with crossed legs and scooting closer to the camera. When he speaks again, the volume is louder, startling you.
"Do you remember Kibum's party? The one on the weekend after Valentine's Day?"
"Oh God, that one was a bit too much."
"Agreed." He chuckles, low and nostalgic. He scratches the back of his head. "Thanks for helping me out back then."
You're barely able to hide the surprise on your face, and Minho answers the unsaid question for you.
"I remember. I was drunk, but I remember you dragging me off." From the tone of his voice, he sounds sheepish, but so are you, because the revelation throws you off guard.
"No worries. Just… Don't do that too often."
He laughs. "You hate parties, don't you? I remember you were so grumpy before you left."
Hiding your face in your hands, you groan. "They can be too much."
"You don't sound like you always have a good time."
"Sorry if my dull life offends you."
"It's not dull, per se.” He waves his hands around as a gesture. “But it's why you're such a bummer."
"Again, sorry if you're not having a blast with me."
"Forgiven." A pause. "But, you know." A longer pause, and the silence starts to test your patience. "You can just ask me. I provide spectacular good times."
Respectfully, you give him a side eye.
"Right now I can give you a whole different testimony."
"To be fair, we're doing homework. But… I can do better." He leans in closer, pupils dilating with an emotion you are afraid to iterate, furthering your confusion.
"What are you on about?" You minimize the Zoom window, an effort to return to your task at hand. From Minho's side, there's nothing but the sound of breathing, but when he speaks, his voice deepens.
"I can do better than this. I can make you feel good."
You freeze, throat tightening as you're lost for words. There's no way to stop your mind from wandering uncontrollably. Afraid to see him, you avoid checking his face on the screen.
After a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, voice husky and more true to what he said.
"Like I said, all you have to do is ask."
Afraid to cross whatever line he's teetering on, you take one for the team, inhale, and take a step back.
"Then, can you shut up and let me do my work?"
Minho lets out a condescending laugh in response, like he's asking 'are you for real?' "Fine then. Let me know when that cursor starts moving."
Warmth rushes to your cheeks. It's tempting to blame the alluring night, but you know better than that.
And you should know better than to assume Minho would let this slide.
The awkwardness hangs in the air, blanketing the both of you with tension. You suppose this could push him away, making him sign off and do his thing - which, you don't want to imagine. But no. Instead, Minho is now lounging on his bed. And now you know, the more comfortable Choi Minho is, the more forward he becomes.
"Why won't you let yourself loose?" He asks all of a sudden, five minutes of silence brings him to the edge of his new found glory. Minho scratches his dark hair like he’s frustrated.
You snap your head towards him in disbelief. But before you say anything, he continues with a slightly raised tone.
"Like, come on, (Y/n). We're in university. You can have some fun."
"Doesn't seem worth my time."
"I can be worth your time, if you let me."
"This again?" You sigh. "What do you want from me, Minho?"
Another silence, and this time, you regret the question. From the corner of your eyes, Minho is getting up from his position on the bed to lean in, face uncharacteristically serious.
“I know you know exactly what I want.” He begins. “And I see the way you look at me.”
There's no teasing, just a plain observation. Those words alone kick your heartbeat into a stuttering mess. Despite the urge to confirm, there's still hesitation. You don't want to give in. Not to him.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." You internally curse when your words come out too breathy, and Minho definitely notices, judging by the crooked smile adoring his lips.
"Aren't you tired of teasing yourself like this?" He asks, languid and all knowing. "Why are we still here? Our work is done. You stopped typing ten minutes ago."
"Okay, that's it. We're done for today." You cut him off, closing your docs to prove a point. But it doesn't deter him in the slightest.
"No, we're not." He says with a finality, sleep gone from his voice.
Because without the presentation and all other student responsibilities, you're just two young adults who forget nothing good will come out this late at night.
And, despite the virtual presence, he still manages to corner you, and string you along into his game. 
Perhaps, you let him do so.
"You don't know how tempting you look right now." He whispers, making shivers run down your spine. Checking your camera view, you find out your blankets had fallen off, now sitting on your lap while your skewed pajamas look rumpled and, once again, revealing too much of your skin. With your messy hair and dazed eyes, you can understand why Minho would say that. You look fucked out. And there's no action - not yet.
So you try again, "Minho - "
"I like that look on your face."
You scoff, then try again. "Like I want to strangle you?"
"No. Like you want me to strangle you."
And that's when you know you can't try your way out of this situation. A jolt of arousal unwittingly shocks your body and Minho sees enough of your expression before flashing you a knowing smile. "What's on your mind?"
"...Nothing." You answer a beat too fast.
"You're thinking about me, aren't you?"
"That's - that's enough. Aren't you tired?"
"Not really. Why don't you tire me out?"
"If doing a presentation with me didn't do shit, I don't know what will."
"You just won't back down will you?" Minho's form on the screen shuffles, adjusting his position to lean back against the headboard. "Can't say I don't like it though." Then, a low sigh startles you, and your eyes grow wide.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Helping you out."
Unfortunately, he's not. He's laid on the bed, leaning back with his legs stretched out, a hand lazily stroking his own thighs. And it's a sight you can watch forever.
"How does touching yourself help me out, Choi?"
"You're too tense," he says in between grunts, earning more reaction from your traitorous body. "Be thankful I'm showing you how to relax."
"You're a goddamn pervert."
"And you like it."
"Fuck, why would I - do you actually think your naughty little words will work on me? Try again."
There's blazing confidence in his eyes, as if he's holding all the cards and you're left in the dark.
"Challenge accepted, beautiful.”
He continues to tease himself as he stares at your form in the camera, hands getting closer to his crotch.
"You can tell me to stop."
Before you can say anything, he reaches low and begins to palm himself through the sweatpants. Even on camera, you can see the sizable tent. You unconsciously lick your lips, earning a mocking laugh from his end.
"You're drooling."
You throw a glare at him. "Fuck you."
"We can get to that later. But right now, can I continue, (Y/n)?"
The question surprises you as it offers your ticket to the way out, despite the expectation visible in Minho’s pleading eyes. You take a deep breath, sealing the deal.
"...You said you accepted the challenge."
And that's all Minho needs to exhale harshly, sounding more like a moan.
"I did, but can't you just - ah - do something?" The husky voice alone sends a wave of arousal to your core, and you instinctively snap your thighs together. A cloud of lust starts to muddle your brain, and you can't think straight anymore.
Of course Minho notices immediately.
"I saw it."
"You see nothing."
"You're a fucking menace." He grunts, and it sounds way more sexy than angry, like really sexy. With a hand still touching and exploring, he continues to sigh.
"A menace that makes you jerk off while zooming with me?" You can't help but tease, in which he moans in response instead of answering.
"Listen, we're both tired and I need this. So, fuck it."
In one swift movement, his hand dives into his briefs and grabs his cock by the hilt, at least from what you guess through the fabric. His mouth falls open in pleasure. 
"Godammit, Minho, you shouldn't - "
"Shhh… Let me have this." His hand speeds up and he closes his eyes, face scrunching in pleasure as he lets out sensuous noises that tempt you more until a whimper escapes your lips. You hear him chuckle.
"Care to join me? I bet you're already wet."
You force a laugh. “I don’t think so.”
"Then prove it."
“Do it yourself then.”
"Oh baby, if I were there, I would do more than that." You're frozen on the spot, anticipating his words. As he hears no complaint from you, he continues. "I could pull you down on my lap, just like that night in the library - "
"It was an accident." You protest, voice small and unsurprisingly ignored.
"- put my arm around your waist, and then I'd slip a hand underneath those pajama pants - loungewear." He laughs while correcting the words and you can’t help but join him incredulously.
At this point, you can only hear Minho's heavy breathing, or perhaps they were your own. You have no idea anymore, your brain muddled with desire and anticipation. His brown eyes slide to the camera, right at you.
"I wonder how wet you are beneath all that?"
For some reason, you still try. "Dry?”
"Wrong. You'd be soaking wet, and I just know you'd instantly jump as soon as I touched your panties." He explains nonchalantly, but then the haughty tone is replaced by something mocking and exaggerated. "But I guess I am the one who’s wrong."
"What?"
He ceases any movement on his part, and you find yourself disappointed. "If you're really not into this," he begins, voice breathy but there's impatience there that comes from the built up frustration. "Tell me to stop."
Everything halts in your brain. The erotic display gets to you too much until you can't even say a word. Instead, you zoom in on his arms, and how the muscles rippled when he stroke himself. The way his neck tenses, pronouncing his collarbones more. You even wonder if you would be able to see droplets of sweat on his temples if he was in front of you. As Minho grows more impatient, his eyebrows furrow.
He's absolutely gorgeous.
"Tell. Me. To. Stop.”
You swallow, helplessly and undeniably holding yourself back.
“What do you want, (Y/n)?” He focuses on you, chest heaving with each pant. Only now you see how desperate he is.
"Minho…" You let out, brain short-circuiting with lust.
“Yeah, baby? Tell me. You want the same thing as I do?” Whatever he sees on the screen makes him start moving again. His hand finds his shaft again, and he moans loudly. "You want to feel good? I can make you feel good, I can help you out.”
With every word, you wish you can say yes, yes, and yes. Instead, with a sharp intake, you finally say meekly, “Tell me what to do.”
You hear Minho murmur some curses before turning to you.
“Get that blanket away. I want to see you.”
Nervously, you reposition yourself, taking the blanket aside and you hold the urge to sigh as the scratchy fabric grazes your hot skin. You're already oversensitive and you haven't even started yet. Minho is staring at you through the camera, shameless with his want and impatience.
“Touch yourself, baby. Start with your tits.”
With shaky fingers, you start by caressing your chest. Online video meetings are peculiar because there's always a delay before the other party reacts to what you do. In that short window of time, doubt arises. You wonder and think how this happens. But then, Minho lets out a guttural moan, the sound akin to someone who's about to reach his climax.
And the surge of confidence crashes to you like a wave.
"I'm just touching my tits and you're gonna cum already?" You ask with a smug smile.
Minho pays no mind to your comment, instead he scoots closer to the laptop. "Shit, you're actually doing this. Now we're talking."
"Just this one time." You hurriedly find your hardening nipples through the thin fabric of your clothes, wincing with pleasure. "I need this too."
"Yeah? Show me how much you need this. Take off that shirt.”
God, now that you're not lying to yourself and to Minho there's a relentless urge to seek more pleasure. And the thought of Minho seeing you masturbate lights a fire in your stomach.
So you unbutton your top, slow and deliberate to tease the man on the other end of the application. Because that's what he deserves. You hear an exasperated "Hurry up," before a smirk graces your lips for a change. As you shrug off the shirt, you already know his eyes are glued to the sight of your skin.
"God, that body…" He trails off. "You're so fucking hot."
"Likewise." You sigh as your hand slips under the waistband of your pants. "Dammit, I can't believe this."
He chuckles, delirious but still tantalizingly sexy.
"You know what to do. Go and touch that pussy for me."
His assertiveness flicks a switch inside you. Letting out a shuddering sigh, you move backwards further, making sure everything you do will be captured with your web camera. Then, you pull open your legs at a traitorous slow movement, pulling more curses from Minho.
"Touch it." He orders.
You obey him and tug your panties aside to touch your core directly. The contact makes you moan, and Minho knows he's getting what he wants. And so are you.
"See, that wasn't so hard."
"S-shut up."
"You're drenched, I just know it."
He's right, and your head spins with relentless want. Imagining that voice speaking directly to your ear, soft lips grazing your skin as his hand travels south, leaving fire in its trail.
Like your hand is his, you continue rubbing your body, even spreading your legs more, as if he's right there as your audience. You pull your pants down, letting it pool on one of your ankles, before raising one leg slightly to find the angle that gives you the most pleasure.
As you hear wet sounds in your ear, you return your gaze to the screen to enjoy the sight. Minho had his pants removed properly as well, and he has one hand gripping his stiff cock, which has a sheen from what you assume is his own precum. God, the whole visual on your screen is such a sin.
"Shit." You can't help but say, and Minho only laughs in response.
"You're allowed to imagine me fucking you, don't worry." He teases, lips curling into a sneer, and considering the situation, it looks devilish and way too seductive.
With a shaky breath, you scoff.
"Is that what you're thinking? What, fucking me from behind?"
"Not from behind, baby. I want to see your face as my cock pushes in you for the first time."
You hiss as you slide your fingers in your pussy, scrunching your face with ecstasy, and fuck, Minho's into it, because he even stops to take a proper look at you and the way you pleasure yourself.
"Enjoying the view, Choi?" You challenge, and he gulps.
"I wish I could be there, watching you fuck yourself with your fingers."
"Are you sure - ah - you can just stay there and watch?" Your fingers already feel so good dragging against your walls and you want to know how it feels to have his thick cock inside you.
He smirks.
"I can be patient, baby. I can watch you all day."
"Why don't you help me out?"
"Oh? What do you want me to do?"
You groan. "You know…" 
"What? Use your words, (Y/n)." Minho stops only to look at you straight from his camera, eyes almost begging. And you fall for it.
"I want your fingers in me."
He hums, a silent encouragement for you to continue.
"Mmhm. Keep touching yourself, baby girl. What else do you want?"
You groan at the nickname, feeling more wetness now inside you. In a daze, you manage out in between gasps.
"I need you to fuck me."
"What was that?"
"Minho, fuck me, please." You say as you add another finger, pushing inside your drenched pussy, making you moan your words.
"Oh baby, you're so cute begging me like that. I'm gonna fuck you hard, you hear me? You will be shaking and crying when I'm done with you."
You're whimpering, hands still furiously sliding in and out of your wet folds as you watch Minho throw his head back in immense pleasure. He's loud - groans and moans fill your ear, and the sounds coming from him are so lewd, and wet. 
He's going to be the death of you.
There's a moment when you soak in each other's voices, each moan and squelch increasing your pleasure instead. Minho, dark eyes so clouded with lust it's clear even through the screen, demands another question to you.
"What do you want, (Y/n)? Tell me what you want to do to me."
Oh, you don't even know where to start. Flooded with many scenarios, you answer him with the first thing that comes to mind.
"I want to ride your face." You admit sheepishly, only to earn a low chuckle from the other side.
"Shit, that's hot. I wish you were here. I - " another low grunt. "I would have you sitting on my face, my tongue lapping your cunt as you scream out my name. I bet you taste like honey. You're going to grab my headboard, my fingers stuffing your mouth because I know you're going to be loud, aren't you baby?"
As if following his command, you whine out a "yes", voice high pitched and it sounds utterly pathetic. 
With two fingers pushing in and out of your cunt deliciously, your other hand joins to rub your clit, and you hiccup a moan.
"Minho, please I want your cock inside me," you cry out, drowning in the euphoria of lust. All because of him, only him.
"Me too, baby, me too. I want to fuck you all day long. I want to take you in our classroom. Would you like that, huh? After class ended, I could just bend you over the desk and have my way with you."
You won't even deny how much wetter you get after imagining all his words. Public sex doesn't usually excite you much, but this is Minho, and everything with Minho sounds exhilarating and turns you on like hell. Your breath becomes shakier, and everything is intense. You can't feel your hands anymore.
"I'd like that. Hell, you can take me at the student center for all I care."
Minho, ever the sadist, sneers. "I knew it. You like having an audience huh? How about the next time we visit you sit on my cock? I bet you're going to have a hard time shutting up."
A gasp. "Like you're any better, you're freaking loud."
"Don't blame me, I bet your pussy will be so tight around me." He groans, enjoying his own imagination as he continues to pump his cock. "God, this feels so good. Touch your tits for me, baby."
You do as he says, enjoying the jolt of pleasure coming from pinching your nipples.  As Minho keeps encouraging you, your breath quickens, tensing up as your climax approaches fast. 
"Keep going - shit I need to taste you when you cum. Are you close? I'm so close."
"Minho," you moan, words slurring. "I'm so close, too. Fuck, I need your cum inside of me."
"Shit, (Y/n) - "
"I would hold you with my legs and I wouldn't let you go until you fill me up." There’s no more filter so you keep rambling, and before you know it you hear Minho groaning loudly. You check on the screen to see him cum, ropes of white getting onto his bed sheets. Not expecting him to cum first, you let out a delirious laugh. Minho catches you, still panting from his afterglow. He looks gorgeous -
And dangerous.
"You want to be filled, don't you?" He begins, voice still stuttering, but low and immediately freezing you in place. "You want my cum so bad you actually beg for it."
Your breaths pick up in pace.
"I don't think you're done yet. Get that hand working."
You grumble a word or two before resuming to touch your body, hands shaking with heightened pleasure. You hold back a hiss as you touch your stiff nipples, and continue to push in two fingers in your pussy.
"Faster, (Y/n). Rub that clit for me."
Biting your lip, you do as he says and feel the approaching climax. As you gaze at the screen, Minho has a hand propping his head as he looks at you with a challenging expression, like he's waiting for you to fall.
"What else do you want, baby? You want more of my cum? Want me to fill you up until you get knocked up?"
"Ah!" You slip, hands pinching your swollen nub too hard, but that's all Minho needs. With half lidded eyes, he peers at you, like he’s proud of the new discovery.
"Oh, look at you. You're enjoying this."
"N-no, I'm not," you breathe out, sounding too much like a moan.
"Yes you are."
The humiliation burns but not in the right place, it ignites a new flame inside your belly, and you can feel yourself clenching on your own fingers.
"I'm - I'm so close."
“Yeah? You wanna cum? You wanna squeeze my cock with that tight pussy, and make me fill you up?” He presses and presses, voice low as a whisper but all the words shoot straight to you like an arrow. Your breath grows more shallow, and you’re starting to see white behind your eyes.
“Yes, please. Please Minho, please - “
"Go on, cum for me, (Y/n)."
Like a tight string that is cut, you snap and release with heightened senses, all pleasure that washes over you.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful." He murmurs with eyes looking at your panting self.
Your chest heaves with short breaths, and you let it slow down as you lean back into the pillows in your bed. You take a peek at your wet and shiny fingers in disbelief, giggling at the sight.
At the sound of your laugh, Minho joins in. "Damn, that was fun." Minho grins, the adrenaline seeping through the way he smiles. He leans in closer to the camera, eyes going all over. “I think we need to clean up, huh?”
You hum nonchalantly, but you notice your breath is not getting any slower. The thought hits you hard. You just masturbated with - in front of -
“Thank god I have no morning class, I need some good sleep after that.” He yawns, but then he gives another soft smile. “I wish you were here though, a cuddle would be perfect.”
The vision of both of you cuddling on your bed soothes your mind for a bit. You just know he’d be a great cuddler, and for some reason, it sounds nice. Lovely, even.
“Hey, after class you wanna grab dinner?”
After class. You will be meeting Minho, the person you just masturbated with, only in a few hours. Then you will present your work together.
Like a freight train, the embarrassment slams you in the face. You can't even say a thing, mouth only gaping open soundlessly, but you notice your heartbeat kicking abnormally in your ribcage, the sound starting to invade your senses.
"(Y/n), you okay?" Minho’s voice cuts through the racing thoughts in your mind. Gosh, he really does have tender eyes. He looks so worried, and genuine.
But your panic wins.
“I - I need to - I need to go - “
“Hey, tell me what’s - “
You never hear him finishing his sentence, because you already leave the meeting without saying another word.
+++
Despite knowing how much this presentation is worth for your grades, you want nothing more than to bury yourself in the nearest soil. And obviously, it’s not because you lack sleep. Because surprisingly, after that incident, you manage to sleep.
Probably because orgasms can make you that tired.
"Oh my, look at her, she's still alive!"
Barely, you think as Kibum walks to your seat, a sleepy Jonghyun in his trail, looking like he just woke up from a nap. Afternoon classes can either grant you extra nap time, or give you the most unfocused study time in the whole day.
In your case, without your morning classes, you can catch up with your needed sleep.
"Hey there, Kibum, Jjongie."
"You shouldn't be here. One of you must've dropped the class." The male with platinum hair gasps. "Minho dropped this class, didn't he?"
"What? No one's dropping the class." You groan, to which Jonghyun shouts in victory, startling you but not Kibum.
"You owe me 10 bucks."
"Whatever," Kibum rolls his eyes. "We still have one more run."
"Yeah but that's - "
You glare at them both. "You made bets?"
"Taemin put 30 on you dropping the class."
"Me? Dropping classes?” You almost shout, which makes Jonghyun cringe in understanding.
"Yeah he's not the brightest."
"See? It's more probable to have Minho leave." Kibum insists.
"Listen, Minho and I - "
"Me and (Y/n) are what?"
You freeze, recognizing the voice that lulls you to the peak of pleasure only a few hours prior. The blurry images of last night resurfaces in your mind, just like on the screen. You keep staring at the other way, not knowing how you will keep your expressions in check as soon as you see Minho.
"She’s not lying, you're still alive!"
Minho raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Of course I am, what would she do to me, kill me?”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Jonghyun chimes in, getting a laugh from Minho. The latter suddenly takes a seat beside you, and though you still hesitate to face him, you can smell his cologne that almost immediately makes your brain short-circuit.
“So you both actually managed to finish the assignment?” Kibum asks, his head turning from you to Minho. You have no choice but to turn to your partner, and he’s already smirking at you.
“We did. Not without sacrifices, though.” The taller male answers, looking at you with unmistakable fire in his eyes. You hold the urge to glare at him but only nod and force a smile in agreement.
“Huh.” Jonghyun murmurs, almost like an encouragement for both of you to elaborate more. But Kibum already cuts him off.
“Man, professor Lee will have a field day - “
"I probably will.” The said professor chimes in, making Kibum shout and the class laugh. “That's enough, Kim Kibum. Now let's start the class. Today's the presentation day, yeah? Let's begin with Sungjae's group."
Minho stays sitting down on your left side, leaving Kibum and Jonghyun bickering over some badly designed presentation slides from the others. As your eyes meet Minho's dark ones, the noise around you fades away, and you're left with a tight feeling in your stomach.
"Are you ready?" He asks and you jolt in surprise at how calming his eyes are to you. So you just grin, letting yourself relax. Because despite everything, you know you’ll get the presentation part right. 
"Of course." Your smile grows wider as you find the need to push his buttons further. "I hope you slept well."
He smirks. "Couldn't ask for a better rest."
In the end, despite Minho keeps bumping into you, or his hand lingering on yours as you click on the next slide, or him giving you that weird stare publicly, the presentation goes surprisingly well.
Professor Lee compliments the presentation you both give, even mentioning how this might be the first time the two of you are on the same side, and it creates great results, detailed and insightful. Minho manages to look smug and say, “She just took control of the situation, that’s all we need.”
You almost choke.
As soon as the class is dismissed, you know exactly what Minho is going to do.
“Hey, (Y/n) - “
“I need to talk to you.”
Minho’s eyes widen in surprise when you say it at the same time, then the surprise look melts into a goofy grin, like he’s relieved. You mirror it unconsciously.
“Sure, wanna go somewhere?”
As you both bask in each other’s presence, you don’t notice Kibum and Jonghyun staring intensely when you leave the class side by side. Kibum nudges the brunet curiously. 
"They seem different, don’t they?”
"But did you see? Minho is clearly eye-fucking her."
Kibum smirks. “I win.”
“Fuck you.” Jonghyun groans in realization, preparing his wallet.
+++
The walk back to Minho’s dorm room is in silence. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but you still prefer a lighter situation with the tall male by your side. He seems to understand the hesitance, or rather, he prefers to wait until you start.
So when you sit down on his couch, shoes, and bag discarded neatly, you know the ball's on your court.
As you will yourself, Minho only stares at you longingly. He can’t believe you’re here in his room, although not in his bedroom but his common room instead (he internally cheered when he opened the door and saw no roommate to be found). Yes, he has questions regarding your actions on him last night, but he has a strong guess, and he just can’t wait to have it confirmed.
You always drive him crazy, and it makes him mad that you shared such a moment last night but it doesn’t guarantee him to get to know you more. Or having you more.
“So.” Your voice interrupts his thoughts, perking him up.
“Yeah?” He immediately pushes. Patient, Choi.
“I think we did great just now.”
Minho can’t help but bark a laugh. “Seriously? We fucking did, though.” He begins proudly, earning a pretty smile from you. “Never heard him compliment students so bluntly.”
“Right?” You scoot closer to him, now your knees touching. “I guess something good comes out of this.”
He takes the chance and puts himself on your eye level. “Only that?”
Your eyes widen, shyness taking over as your reply, “Well, not only that.”
Realizing now you both are on the same page, Minho presses even further. "Mm-hm?"
The girl beside him finally sighs. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Minho replies truthfully. “But what happened?”
“I just panicked, you know. Dysphoria and all.”
And with that, his worries are confirmed. He understands that more than anything because those kinds of reactions after reaching climaxes are not uncommon.
“Hey,” he begins, hand reaching out to touch your knee. “I get it, it happens.” A pause. “I had it once, too.”
From the way you stare at him, he knows you’re surprised by the information. But he’s still teetering on the edge, so maybe next time he can indulge you in the story.
For now, he has more things to confirm.
“But did you regret it?”
“No!” You answer a tad too fast. “No, I didn’t.” You finally look him in the eye. “I really loved it.”
“Did you now?” He pushes, a smirk gracing his lips, and his anticipation grows rapidly.
You nod, slightly leaning in closer to his face. “And I’m also wondering if all you said were just words.”
Minho’s breath hitches, “Fuck. Should I prove you wrong again?”
Exceeding his expectations, you grab his hand which is sitting on your kneecap, then move it higher up your inner thigh. Then, you smile mischievously, the sight making Minho dizzy because damn, you’re way prettier in person than in those Zoom calls.
“If you want me that bad, sure.”
He groans. “Oh come on, you’re the one who suggested visiting my room.”
You laugh, and the sound is way too husky to be considered playful. Suddenly, but not surprisingly, you lean in to capture his lips in a kiss, which makes Minho groan immediately.
Minho takes control of the kiss as soon as it starts, cupping your cheek in his palm, and holding your waist with his other hand, gripping them tightly and making you gasp. His tongue immediately invades your mouth, and god you taste so good -
“I’ve wanted to do this since forever.”
“Really?” You pant.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to finally have you all to myself.” He dives back in, devouring your lips and swallowing your whimpers. All his imagination from last night pales in comparison to this, to you actually being in his arms, making the sweetest sounds for his ears.
“I suggest - “ You begin with stuttering breaths after parting so suddenly, “We move to your bedroom.”
Minho smirks. “On it, baby.”
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yuniex07 · 3 months
Text
The Magnificent Century
Ok i've been rewatching this tv drama, and as a sucker for historical stories along with middle east aesthetics and culture...I had an urge to make a sort of adaptation/mix with my current obsession: BG3.
So this is an AU, where the ottoman empire will be represented by the vampire coven belonged to Cazador, ruling and conquering all the regions around Baldur's Gate.
Warning: I'm nowhere near to be a decent writer plus, english is not my mother language soo, I'm sorry in advance. Other from that, this is the draft or prelude chapter so nothing to warn unless you count the inplications of a boylove interaction triggers you somehow ?
In future chapters, if i dont get dissapointed in my ugly writting abilities theres going to be harem/noncon/pansexual/domsub/a little bit of Stockholm syndrome? who knows...
Words: 2151 ( honestly how people can write more than this? i was suffering!)
Pairing: for now Pansexual Astarion/Sebastian later Astarion x F!Tav(Lyanna/Love)
Read under the cut
Chapter 1: A new dynasty
In the year 1492 DR, amidst the intricate streets of Baldur's Gate's upper city, the Szarr Palace loomed ominously. Its gothic spires cast long shadows in the fading light of the sunset, forming an imposing silhouette against the darkening horizon. The palace pulsed with unsettling energy; guards and servants weaved through its corridors, torches and candles flickered along the grand halls, casting dancing shadows on opulent walls adorned with tapestries and gilded frames. The air held a palpable tension, thick with anticipation.
Outside the formidable structure, a figure clad in black leather carried a scroll sealed with crimson wax, imprinted with the family crest—a set of two groups of five rats and five mice intertwined by their tails in an inner and outer circle. The contents of this scroll would set into motion a series of events with far-reaching consequences. Approaching a similarly outfitted man mounted upon a steed that seemed to emerge from the depths of the netherworld, the messenger wasted no time. With unearthly speed, the horse thundered through the palace gates, its hooves echoing against cobblestones as it raced into the night. As the horse and rider vanished into the shadows, the wheels of fate began to turn.
Meanwhile, on a distant battlefield illuminated by the moon's pale glow, a bloody clash unfolded. An elven warrior, his red eyes ablaze with the thrill of battle, charged toward his next target with unparalleled speed. His pale skin was adorned with the blood of foes, much like the white locks that peeked out from beneath his war helm. With a swift swing of his short blade, he unbalanced an opponent, creating an opening to plunge a dagger into the enemy's eye, extinguishing its life in an instant. The elven warrior reveled in his prowess; his pale skin glowed in contrast to his black and red armor. The Szarr sigil on his chest delivered a silver gleam under the dim light. Behind him, figures clad in similar armor finished off the remnants of the enemy's army, their triumphant cheers echoing through the battlefield—a declaration of the Szarrs' indomitable might.
The Dragon Coast now lay under their control, a strategic stronghold for dominating trading routes and, inevitably, the region of Cormyr.
The elven warrior walked toward his tent, three figures following close behind. “Master Astarion,” a young human man said. He had fair skin, ash-blonde hair ending at his shoulders, brown eyes, and a middle-muscle frame. “We are so close to reclaiming the whole region under the crimson’s dynasty. Lord Cazador will be delighted,” the pale elf stood still at the mention of his master and progenitor.
Hearing his name ignited discomfort and fury in him. “To be honest, I could care less about what the old wretch thinks, Sebastian. Remember, we are just mere pawns to dispose of for his great conquests,” the elf said, concealing his annoyance.
“Be careful with your words, Astarion,” another man responded. His right eye was of white stone, scars adorned his face, and he had a rich, deep skin tone. But his more prominent feature was a couple of horns adorning his head. “Or what, Wyll? Are you going to tell the old bastard? Warlocks like you are a pain in the ass, always loyal to their masters,” Astarion said with venom in his voice.
“Just trying to save your sorry ass from another year locked in a tomb,” Wyll replied mockingly. Astarion’s eyes opened, and rage invaded his features. “You come and say that again!” he said dangerously approaching Wyll.
The third figure finally intervened, placing herself in the middle of them. “Enough, you two!” she commanded. The woman had a strong build, clearly a warrior with expertise, crimson skin, one horn on her head, and a fiery gold gaze.
“We've had enough blood and fights for a day. Can’t we just rest and clean up all the gore? You two do look like shit.”
“Say that to him, Karlach!” Astarion replied. “If you weren’t one of the master’s spawns I would’ve kicked your ass long time ago” – Wyll answered.
“That is also inappropriate commander Ravengard; our Lord’s spawns are like an extension of himself. You need to show him some respect” -Sebastian said
“Tsk”- Wyll, let out. “Unfortunately, Leon was the most suited for this crusade, and now I have to be stuck with the sharp-tongued one.”
“Too bad my little brother disobeyed Cazador and had to run away with that kid. Now he is been chased to face something worst to dead if he gets caught” - Astarion says in fake mockery, hiding emotions he dared to not show. Deep down he felt sorry for his “bother”.
“There’s time before the sunrise, everyone go get cleaned while the brigade returns with our war loot, then we will able to discuss our next moves.”- Astarion commanded, as the other three figures nod and turn around to leave him in his tend. Astarion takes off his helmet, unleashing rebellious white curls falling down his forehead, placing the helmet on the war table he begins to unlock the strands holding his black armor.
“I thought I said to go clean up, Sebastian”-Astarion says as he feels the presence behind him. The top side of his armor falls heavily on the floor.
“I know…I just wondered if the master needed help with his bath” -Sebastian replied. Astarion turned around to face him, revealing his chiseled torso uncovered and shimmering by the sweat mixed with a bit of blood, “Is that so?”- He said while raising an eyebrow and a smirk on his face, “Then by all means, help me out with my boots”. Sebastian nodded and kneeled in front of him to begin untying Astarion’s boots.
Once he finished, while still kneeling Astarion took Sebastian’s hair and pulled in a way to make him face him. “Good boy, now…work on my pants, then, you can help me with my bath”. Sebastian just grinned and nodded, “As my master commands”.
Far away from the war camp, the vampiric forces continued to loot the nearby villages, burning houses and reuniting the survivors that could serve as military or slaves. A small group of six people were running from the riot, within them two silhouettes leading them trying to get away by blending with the shadows of the buildings.
The smaller figure among them was sobbing and shaking, “Shh…Hayleen, you need to be quiet or they will find us”, -The bigger figure whispered, trying to soothe the little child. – “I’m scared, sister” – the child sobbed. – “They…they killed adar and naneth”.
The oldest on the pair frowned with a pained expression, she couldn’t help their parents, they gave their life to allow them to run, protecting her little sister was all she can do to honor their sacrifice. “I know! but you have to be strong for them.” - The child nodded and dried her tears with the inside of her sleeve.
The bigger sister peeked around a corner, no one in sight, “Alright, lets go and don’t look back”, they were so close to reach the woods, there was a hidden cabin by the lake deep in the woods, with a bit of luck, a boat might still be there. They could row until they reach Cormyr. “Just a little more, Hayleen” -Lathander have mercy on them, she thought. Suddenly three arrows landed in front of them, stopping their advance, no, was all she could think, “Everyone run!”- she said, while several dark horses and their riders approached them. There was no time, they were going to capture them both if she doesn’t do anything, “Take Hayleen, everyone get closer!”.
“NOO! Lyanna! Don’t leave me!” – Hayleen screamed to her sister as she was hold by another woman. Lyanna enveloped her sister and the other escapees with a sacret light, she never tried this conjure before, but it was her only choice. Her eyes glowed with divine light “Morning lord! lend me your strength! Word of recall!” a light orb surrounded all the survivors but herself, the conjure could only carry five people to safety.
The crying face of her sister was the last thing she remembered, what happened next was too fast, the riders reached to her a whip hold onto her ankle before she could have time to react and give in a fight, the movement of the horse rider made her fall and she was violently pulled a few meters before they stopped, her head hit the ground hard enough to leave her stunned. Her eyesight blurred as she as falling unconscious, the rest she remembers from that night was only darkness.
Astarion was comfortable lying in the tub, eyes closed as the warm water soothed him. “You seem more relaxed now” – Sebastian said as he delicately scrubbed Astarion’s torso with a sponge as he settles in, leaning his head on the pale elf shoulder. Astarion chuckles – “I might be…thanks to the good company”
“And some pampering, as much as the bloody semblance suits you, that helmet did outrageous things to your hair. Now you look back to normal” – Sebastian remarked as he tucked a lock of silver hair behind the elf's pointed ears. “Darling, you wound me! You know I would look fabulous even covered in mud and dirt” – the elf replied moving his hand with disdain.
Both men were enjoying a little peace until they hear a commotion outside the tent, looking at each other they hurried to put on some clothes to investigate the noises.
The night hung heavy over the war camp, shrouded in darkness and punctuated by the distant sounds of looting and chaos. Astarion and Sebastian hastily dressed up with comfortable clothes, knives and swords in hand, the commotion outside growing louder. They exited the tent, senses heightened, ready to face whatever disturbance awaited them.
As they stepped out into the night air, a rider emerged from the shadows, mounted on a horse that seemed to meld with the darkness itself. The steed's eyes glowed an eerie crimson, mirroring the seal on the scroll the rider held in his hand. Astarion recognized the rider as one of Cazador's palace messengers.
The rider dismounted gracefully, approaching Astarion with a deep bow. "My master Astarion, I bring grave tidings from the palace," the messenger said, his voice low and respectful. Astarion's eyes narrowed, a flicker of anticipation in his gaze.
"What news?" Astarion demanded, his tone betraying a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Sebastian stood by his side, observing the unfolding scene with a vigilant gaze.
The messenger handed the sealed scroll to Astarion. The crimson wax bore the imprint of Cazador's family crest—the two groups of five rats and five mice intertwined in an intricate pattern. Astarion broke the seal, unfurling the parchment.
The words inscribed on the scroll revealed the fate that had befallen Cazador Szarr. Astarion's eyes scanned the lines, absorbing the news of his master's demise. The air around him seemed to grow heavier, a moment of silence hanging in the balance.
Astarion's expression remained stoic, but a storm brewed beneath the surface. The messenger spoke cautiously, "Lord Cazador met his end in the pursuit of greater power. The Ritual of Profane Ascension has claimed him. He sought to transcend the limitations of vampirism but succumbed to it. All his spawns are to come back to the palace with ease as a new successor must be selected”
Astarion's grip on the scroll tightened, his jaw clenched. Sebastian placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, silently acknowledging the weight of the news. The rest of the camp, unaware of the unfolding drama, continued with its nocturnal activities.
"My master, by the decree of the coven, you or any of the other male spawns, are eligible to ascend and become the new ruler of the coven" the messenger continued, sensing the shift in power dynamics.
Astarion's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—grief? No, far from it, it was a thirst for the newfound opportunity, and the power that could be in the palm of its hands.
"Thank you for delivering this news. Return to the palace; tell them I will make my way there immediately," Astarion commanded, dismissing the messenger. The rider bowed once more, mounted his shadowy steed, and disappeared into the night, leaving the camp in the wake of Cazador's demise and Astarion's road for ascension.
Sebastian turned to Astarion, his expression a mix of concern and loyalty. "What will you do now, my Lord?"
Astarion gazed into the distance, the campfires flickering like distant stars. "Prepare for a new era, Sebastian. The throne is mine for the taking, and the coven will bow to its new master."
As the words hung in the air, the vampire spawn contemplated the path ahead—the challenges, the opportunities, and the uncharted territories of leadership that awaited him under the moonlit sky.
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igbeh · 1 year
Note
heyyy sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but i’m starved for romangerri fic recs— got any particular favorites?
oh my god I've been waiting for this moment >:3
so basically anything by Blissymbolics, Amuly, and Catherineflowers are going to be spectacular, but I have quite a few that I think about often.
Dust and Ghosts and Time - blissymbolics (gerri keeps roman in a dog cage for a month as sexy therapy)
The Price of an Egg - catherineflowers (gerri kidnaps roman as sexy therapy (lol) and he enters his housewife era)
Make You Blush - Amuly (gerri dresses roman up like a girl)
sugar baby, with your champagne eyes - darlingdarling (au where a young roman is gerris intern at her very own firm)
You Eat Me, I Eat You - catherineflowers (so sick so twisted gerri goes on vacation and roman stalks her lol. hot.)
Cowardice - blissymbolics (Roman's childhood as seen by gerri (mind the tags))
Fuck it, this is love - claralannister (roman and gerri in gerris office non-smutty domsub stuff)
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the-iceni-bitch · 1 year
Note
Hey I just wanted to say, thank you so much for this long male reader fic, it’s rough out here and the fact you put QUALITY info this fic, beautiful
And we were DOM?
Ooh baby, can’t wait to see how you’d write rough or soft dom and rough or soft bottom
Or even subdom and domsub fics
AH I’m so excited! You write so good for marvel boys you are so talented
(PLZ have Steve and Bucky fics where we’re younger seriously they were so good)
Love ya
Oh my god, this honestly made me cry a little bit, thank you!!
For something that I was so nervous about posting, the reception I’ve gotten has just been wonderful and I’m so glad that this was something people wanted and that I did a good job. Because I really want everyone to be able to enjoy my fics so knowing that you liked it means the world to me!
I absolutely have more male reader fics planned, for Bucky and Officer Beefcake but also have a polyamory fic with a sub!male reader that includes Carol and Thor that will be in the same universe, and potentially will have Sam get a male reader as well. I always want to expand what I feel comfortable writing so I’m incredibly grateful that you guys are giving me the space to do that!
And now I’m just thinking of doing an entirely queer Marvel AU, oh my god. Wait, a queer Marvel mob AU?! Oh shit, I’m gonna end up making so much work for myself, lol
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bwoahtastic · 1 month
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Talking about smut👀 sub maxy is put on jensons lap, as Daniel gets on his knees in front of him to look him in the eye, says he is going to fuck Charles and maxy can watch, see if there is anything max is uncomfortable with or if he has questions before he'll do anything with max himself. And jenson as a dom holds max close to him, presses kisses on his glands between.
Oh plss!
Sub max likes jenson, feels secure with him so he isnt too phased when Dan points him over to Jense and jenson pats his lap for Max to sit.
Dan telling Max softly what is going ro happen, he js going to fuck charles and Max can watch and safeword any time needed. Jenson is there to help him and Max can ask what he needs from him!
Jenson gently keeping max grounded, hugging him back to his chest and kissing his neck a little, and making silly little jokes to the sub. Max is watching Dan intently but it's curiosity more than panic or jealousy which is good.
By the end, max softly asks to cuddle with Dan so they can,talk and Jenson takes over doing the after care foe Charles as discussed!
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safetycar-restart · 2 years
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I can’t believe I’m actually typing this out loud right now but… Lando past experiences AU like okay hear me out.
Lando is someone I feel who is more likely to be pushed into something he’s maybe not ready for and his past doms took advantage of that and did things for their pleasure instead of both their pleasure and Lando’s pleasure, so by the time he gets to you, that’s all he expects. When you go over your lists, he wants you to go first, so you do, and then he just says “okay” when you’re done and he thinks it’s the end of the conversation and you have to tell him that you also need his list, and he blushes and just says that your list is fine with him.
You actually have to sit him down and have a conversation about this because he has to have a list, right? But he says no and tells you that he just went along with whatever his doms wanted. You don’t want to, but you ask “and you liked everything?” and Lando frowns and shakes his head like ‘of course not’ and then he goes “but it’s not about me, it’s about you.” and your heart just breaks.
Lando sorta panics a little but you work through it and you help him figure out what he wants and likes, and it’s rough at first because he doesn’t really know how to be honest with you when he doesn’t like something because he knows that you like it, but you also work through that, and when you finally have a list for him, you’re so proud, and he’s beaming.
He’s totally different from when he first came to you.
I also can’t believe that you sent me this ask, to be quite honest. Who are you and what have you done with Ceci? Since when does Ceci send me Lando thoughts?
But anyway, I love this idea so much. I’m actually very shocked that we haven’t discussed lando in the past experiences au yet cause it seems very... lando.
So let’s do it!!!
So previously, I think Lando’s biggest mistake would be just wanting to please his Dom? Anything his Dom said, he did. Anything his Dom suggested, he agreed to.
No matter what. He thought to be a good sub, he had to just do whatever his Dom wanted. He didn’t understand that a good domsub relationship is a partnership. That both the dominant and the submissive are supposed to be a team, that they both have equal power.
So you and lando are going through your preferences and he’s agreeing to everything. At first you think it’s just because you and him happen to have similar links.
But then, you finish going through your list and ask lando about his preferences.
And he has nothing.
In fact, he looks so confused because he doesn’t even understand why you’re asking him. He’s just.... he’s so lost.
So you start to ask lando about his previous dom, about how they went about preferences and Lando just goes “I did what they said. That’s how this works, right?”
And your heart just breaks lando deserved so much better.
You, of course, explain to him that he’s a joint effort. That you care about what he wants and will never make him do something he doesn’t want.
The saddest part is, when you start to discover his preferences, he’s just the softest little sub? He wants to be praised and held and loved and looked after.
And you know for a fact his previous Dom did painplay with him but it’s so clear that he doesn’t like that. That he just wants to be taken care of and treated like something precious.
It’s rough at first. Lando keeps on expecting you to change your mind midway through a scene but you never do. You always keep the same soft, sweet love that you know he likes.
He’s just... he’s your soft little sub.
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glassesblu · 2 years
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What’s your favorite Au you’ve made with Ingo and Emmet?
This is sooo hard cause I have a lot of AU now! :weary:
Let me enumerate my current AU (a lot of these i've developed with @belltrigger though some AU I consider Belltrigger being the better authority on and are AU Belltrigger first came up with, like Bot Emmet AU, Dead Dove AU, and the combo AU - Sitcom AU)
The AU I have with short descriptive blurbs! (I have also linked some art I have done of my own AU
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Age Difference AU
Quite standard, and a lot of people seem to have their own version of this. Where Ingo has returned quite a bit older than Emmet! I have mine set where Emmet is 30 and Ingo is 45! I know I call him an old man a lot, but he's at best Middle aged. Admittedly I haven't deeply explored the angst potential. I think Old man Ingo is so fucking chill. Emmet has experienced a lot of burn out and exhaustion hallucinations, but is still hopeful and cheerful when Ingo returns.
Fav bits: I just looove old Ingo. I think the story of him being lost to time and returning nearly right where he left - he’s different now, he feels out of place, he’s changed from his *twin*. I love thinking of making them work hard to fit together again. And also giving him memory loss angst and injuries that last and all that! Love it! And I love too that Emmet just, lost himself with his grief. It’s a good AU
AU Names: Old!Ingo (Oingo) & Young!Emmet (Yemmet)
Find on my blog!
Read Direct from the Source by Belltrigger
Reverse Ages AU
Where the opposite is true! Ingo has come back having aged to only 30, while Emmet is aged 45! This AU is where Emmet has become extremely bitter and closed off. When Ingo returns, he has to contend with his own changes and feeling shame for it. While Ingo tries his best to be what he thinks everyone expects of him, even if he cannot remember. A Domsub dynamic has become really prominent in this AU and contributes to their healing (I think its mostly just limited to their sexual encounters and not a lifestyle thing). Sex is really difficult for me to discuss though. Anyone can ask me things, but some nsfw questions I might not answer just in general.
Fav bits: I’m really surprised by the sexual aspect being very important cause thats not usually what I do, but it works so well with how I think about their lore in my head. I also LOVE bitter old Emmet. I love how just, he’s been alone for so long and when Ingo comes back he’s frightened that they won’t fit anymore. And for Ingo, he tries to suppress his feeling of inadequacy, and when Emmet finds out he’s saddened and shamed that he did not consider Ingo’s feelings as well. They make it work! They are so in love.
AU Names: Young!Ingo (Yingo) & Old!Emmet (Oemmet)
Find on my blog!
Read Collar by Belltrigger
Read Precious Documents by Belltrigger
Changeling Ingo AU
AU where Ingo is actually a form changing creature that feeds and consumes the identity of other people and takes their place. BUT OOPS in his first foray at being alive, he changes into a young kid Emmet (who lost his parents recently) and ends up becoming his brother! He torments Emmet for a few years, though Emmet being a bit oblivious to it because Ingo hasn’t stepped it up to more dangerous levels. Then Ingo just, grows attached to the human he’s supposed to eat? He grows to care for Emmet as a brother, a friend, and then a lover. But he becomes shamed about his existence. He can’t eat other people because that would take him farther from Emmet. He wouldn’t be his twin anymore. And he can’t very well eat Emmet. Emmet finds out and still loves Ingo whole heartedly. He sees that Ingo cares about him but he doesn’t see how much Ingo struggles. But they live on. Ingo has to deal with being a creature that can’t feed in the way he’s supposed to, and Emmet has a giant monster brother that he loves and wants to reassure.
Fav bits: Eheh I started this cause I wanted to make a ‘one person is a creature’ AU and by luck of the draw, it was Ingo! And I just love this AU. I’m just in love with the idea that you feel so, angry and violent and full of malice but. You want to love and be loved and you try to just, be kind. And it’s so fucking hard and it sucks! Changeling Ingo doesn’t have an easy time. But I think he’s happy still, with his brother. I actually have part of a write up of this AU HERE (to be continued at some point.)
AU Names: Creature Ingo (Cringo) & Changeling Ingo AU Emmet (CIAU Emmet)
Unicorn Emmet AU
This one is a joint creation with my dear friend @belltrigger ! In this AU, Emmet is a beautiful Unicorn that frolicks and nurtures the forest with his magic. Ingo is a skilled hunter who works in service of the Queen. Emmet has been long observing Ingo as he works in the forest, and finds his respect of nature to be admirable. Ingo spots Emmet once and reports the sighting to the Queen, who then orders Ingo to capture him and have Emmet kept in the royal bestiary. It turns out that Emmet cannot live well in captivity, and he slowly weakens. Ingo is kept busy with work, living a sort of detached lonely life, until he visits the unicorn again and the unicorn speaks to him angrily. Ingo feels remorse, and frees Emmet. Emmet is magicly weakened, and Ingo chooses to accompany him and protect Emmet from bounty hunters who seek to return the unicorn to the queen.
Fav bits: It’s just fun to draw Emmet so pretty!!! I just think this AU is a bit romantic, and it’s fun! Ingo is pretty inexperienced with people and relationships even if he likes people. And Emmet doesn’t have the same mindset as humans. It’s a fun AU to think about!
AU Names: Protector Ingo/Unicorn Knight Ingo & Unicorn Emmet (Uemmet)
Royal AU (Reverse Ages spinoff)
This! Is another AU I thought up with belltrigger since its inception!
Emmet and Ingo were twin princes who were preparing to assume the throne, but Ingo sadly passed away at 20 years old due to serious illness. Emmet slowly closed off with grief, and when he became king he mostly closed off his kingdom as well. He still had alliances, but did not himself participate in social type stuff. He took care of his people the best he could.
Ingo, a ghost, saw that Emmet was miserable without him. He could not pass on, and forced a reincarnation in order to try to reach Emmet. He was reborn in another kingdom, and grew up with no memories of his past life. Ingo waited 5 years before reincarnating, and grew up to about 20 years of age before meeting again with Old!Emmet who was 45 years old.
They were drawn toward each other, sparking a camaraderie much to everyone’s surprise on behalf of Oemmet. Yingo in this AU is a charismatic young prince, who has somehow won the heart of the closed off King.
Fav bits: Yingo and Oemmet are pretty different in this AU, but they’re so cute and reverent of each other! I just enjoy drawing their little outfits, and giving Old Emmet a softer expression compared to the original Reverse Ages stern ness of Old Emmet. This AU is also really tragic in some ways (READ BELLTRIGGER’S GIFT FIC HERE) and I may write a post about this AU as well, since we have more or less finished the whole story of this AU.
AU Names: Prince Yingo & King Oemmet
Mermaid Emmet AU (Horny DeadDove AU, sorry)
Actually i’m making a post about this AU! It will be a companion post to @belltrigger ‘s future Dead Dove AU post. They are not related in their creation, but these two AU are quite important to our current fun AU, Death Train AU (a combo AU where any submas AU could be thrown into!)
It started out mostly as a dead dove sex AU, but now it’s quite emotional and angsty too, i’m verrry fond of it.
Fav bits: It’s monster fucking, kidnapping, and Egg preg. What more could you want?
AU Names: Wife Ingo & Mermaid Emmet (Mermmet)
Thanks for reading!
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ijvnyxcy · 1 year
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hey hey~ new episode published^^ i hope y’all take time to read it and stay tuned for next episodes! i can't post weekly colored comics. so I decided to make au extra comics that i can share with you along the series.
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Current plot bunny dump because I’m working another double and I am so stinking tired and after this promotion I’m so terrified that they’re going to think that they made a mistake or they’ll hire someone more qualified to replace me so I’m word vomiting and just focusing on fic:
- Inspired by the fact that the novel translation character descriptions describes Chan as Korn’s bodyguard AND his secretary and I’m now obsessed with the idea of a new bodyguard coming into the organization and PORSCHE is Kinn’s bodyguard and is totally overlooked because he’s just this dweeby guy who sits in on all of their meetings and has an ipad permanently fixed on his arm. And this whole derisiveness continues up and until they get pinned down and Porsche gets them out and the newbie realizes ‘oh shit, not just a secretary’ and then of course they get back to the compound and newbie is on night watch and learns what Kinn and Porsche get up to after hours and realizes ‘oh shit, he’s not *just* anything’. Basically I want Porsche to be Natasha in Iron Man 2 but also still Porsche from KinnPorsche
-Also entirely obsessed with the idea of Porsche being the Queen of the criminal underground and just definitely Not Realizing This or the pull and weight that his words now carry. Just a whole story of Kinn being like, absolutely whipped by Porsche and wanting the whole world to know it. Definitely would be a 5+1 fic filled with soft boys and adoration.
- and on the ENTIRE OTHER END OF THE SPECTRUM: Kinn x Porsche domsub au. Which I’ve read the meta and agree that it’s basically canon, but want to dive into it more. I don’t think they would be so much sadism/masochism like what I think (haven’t read the novels) Vegas/Pete are; but very much a body worship/exhibitionism/cock worship situation where Porsche and Kinn are just so in love with and are worshipping each other but Porsche gets on his knees and gets to be doted on and is told what a Good Boy he is. And subspace Porsche is all I want.
I’ll add more as they come to me. Any pique your interests or anyone have any prompts?
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forthelostones · 3 months
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𝚙𝚝.𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆
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⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡
synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?
warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby, domsub!abby, sexual themes, jealousy, fluff, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.
an: hi everyone, i appreciate you all sooo soo much. happy friday... i am taking a break to focus on my own personal writing!!! so, sorry for the wait, I wanted this to be good and satisfying.
palestinians still need e-sims!!! click the link to figure out how you can donate.
(no y/n)
wc: 3.6k
Monday morning came with a vengeance, collecting you and Abby swiftly. You had been staying in her apartment since you returned home and had no complaints. Abby was always awake before you, getting ready for her day at 4:00 am, no matter if it’s clinical or lectures, her routine remains the same. Although it seemed insane, she thought you were silly for not doing it her way.
She’d roll over, squeeze your lower belly with her forearm, and cradle you into her body. Her nose was tucked in the crease between your shoulder and jaw. This happened around 3:50 am just before her clock sounded, with her small snores tickling you out of your dreamscape. Abby slept with a white noise machine, black-out curtains, a fan on the lowest setting, and a mouthguard. Her tepid body soothed you into the deepest sleep you had ever gotten. The blend of her honey shampoo and vanilla-pine body wash was intoxicating. Something about her presence allowed you to relax and feel protected — it was more than a feeling but a simple truth that Abby would protect you. 
“Good morning, baby.” She groaned, words slurring a bit. 
You reply with a drowsy, mumbly string of words. 
Abby scooted down to the edge of the bed and slid her feet into her thin, black house slippers. She shuffled her feet against the hardwood and opened the door, revealing a black hole in the living space. Abby’s routine has been solid no matter what season of her life she was in. Early mornings lead to successful days and those days lead to a fulfilling life. She had many admirable traits that you hoped to rub off on you soon. 
“Hey, come on. It’s time to get up.” She said, placing her hand on your cheek, wrapped in a towel after her morning shower. 
“Abby.” You groan. 
“Listen, it’s breakfast time, you need to get up, my love.” 
Her 'my love' squeezed at the deepest parts of you. Tossing you into a whirlwind of unknown emotions that put a sense of fear into your bones. Her thumb began to caress your brow awakening you to reality. She leans down and kisses your forehead, her wet hair dripping onto the duvet. After stretching, you met her in the bathroom where she was blow-drying her hair. Although the sink was not large, she found space for your toothbrush on the porcelain. 
“How should I do my hair?” She asked.
“Why don’t you wear it down? It’ll look really pretty.” You smile, covering the bristles with Abby’s expensive whitening toothpaste. 
She ran her fingers through the strands and frowned. “I need a haircut. I’ll keep it braided. Could you give me a haircut later tonight?” 
Abby’s icy iris’ shimmered sincerely into yours with a quiet desperation you can attribute to domestication and commitment. You leaned in, mouth minty, and kissed her softly. 
“Of course, Abs.” 
All nursing students were called into a meeting to discuss the next steps of their career post-grad, which meant passing a HESI exam before the NCLEX. You and Abby arrived at the hall filled with all your peers with matching strawberry protein smoothies. Abby insisted on taking your bag and holding it as you got settled, a sweet gesture that made you shrink once you noticed the other bodies in the room. 
“When you go to the library, make sure to give the librarians your assigned access code. HESI books are not cheap! If you want additional materials see me later. Anderson?” 
You turn your head to see Abby’s hand raised, a curious look glazed on her face. “So, are their online resources as well that are paid for through our tuition?” She asked. 
“No. But like I said I will gladly see you after.” 
Abby shook her head and leaned over to you. “Bet these books are from the ninety’s.” 
You smiled at her and gently placed your hand on her knee. Her mouth tightened into a smirk. The info session ended and you and Abby had to part ways for the hour-long break between classes. She leaned in with her lips puckered, ready to embrace you. She sensed your reluctance. 
“If you’d prefer no PDA, let me know.” She whispered. 
You look over your shoulder to the students milling about the building with their faces locked to their phones. No one was looking because no one cared. 
“No, it’s fine,” You mutter, planting a kiss on her lips. 
“I’m going to the gym, I’ll see you or… you can always work out with me?” She said, pulling away. 
“Let me think about it.” 
Abby was getting weary of your indecisiveness. 
She grins and walks away, leaving you empty, like you did something wrong. It made you question how could someone be so sure about something they never experienced themselves. Commitment wasn’t a common feature of Abby’s life. Her lack of relationships — you would think — should deter her from jumping into anything too quickly. But was it quick to her or just quick to you? You realize you’ve been standing in the same spot for too long and need to be productive with this break. 
how was your holiday? 
haven't heard from you. 
You cringe at the second message because it's true, you two haven’t talked at all since Abby’s meltdown. That night Ellie took you to her place and consoled you. She may have appeared intimidating the night of the house party but there’s another side of her that’s so loving and forgiving — people didn't expect that from her, and neither did you. 
“Listen, she just needs some time to cool down. I’m sure it’ll be fine. You need to take care of yourself too.” She said, brushing her knuckles on your burning cheek. 
You turned towards Ellie and kissed her gently, melding into her mouth, the salt of your tears glazing her top lip. It felt right in the moment, a distraction. Ellie’s hands came up to your shoulders and enveloped you in a hug. Your hearts vibrated against each other, nursing more tears out of you. “Ellie, I’m sorry—”
“No, none of this is your fault, it’s okay love,” 
Her palms rustled against the fabric of your top, warm and firm. You sigh gently into her neck, making Ellie ache for you. You lift your chin from the crook of her neck and press your lips onto the length of her throat. Her skin was syrupy-sweet, glazing your tongue with the taste of her. Suddenly, her waist was in your hands, and your thumbs were tucked into her waistband, massaging her hipbones. 
“You want me to help you forget her?” Ellie suggested, tongue clacking in your ear.  
Ellie spread you out on her bed, body under the lights still bruised from the night you and Abby had, serving as the reminder she intended it to be in the first place. The way Ellie’s eyes widened as she crouched at the edge of the bed while between your thighs made you shiver. She ran her fingers up and down your thighs, manipulating your curves, grabbing at the places she wanted her lips the most. You struggled under the woman’s grip, fighting the restraints she put on your hands, arms above your head, and wrists tied together with black silk scarves. 
The red lights around the perimeter of her ceiling illuminated only the darkest parts of her. The outline of her short, brown hair and broad shoulders dipped downwards to plant a kiss on your belly. You bit your lip to stifle your moans. Her thumb played with the slick between your lips, the pressure waning when she came close to your stiff clit. 
“Do you want me to make you cum?” 
“Yes.” You mumbled. 
“Okay, beautiful, don’t worry, just relax, okay?” 
Ellie worked you for every last drop. You could barely hold yourself up in the shower as your knees trembled underneath you. She insisted that you shouldn’t bother putting on clothes as you dropped the towel from your body. Her tatted hand tapped the mattress as you crawled over to her. The woman’s body was sculpted and enticing, flourishing with sex. You cup her petite breasts and place your mouth on her nipple as you spread your legs over her thigh. 
“Your flight…” She winched. 
“What about it?” You sucked. 
“It’s… early and it’s… late.” 
“Okay, I’ll stop.” 
Ellie frowned and licked her lips. 
“Too bad, I’m already soaked.” She said, spreading her legs open and curving her fingers inside. 
She moans your name, stretching her hole out on her two middle fingers. Her back arched as she worked her dripping pussy like she was alone. The sight alone made your entire body fiery. Her body slithered on the sheets as she increased the speed. 
You spread your fingers onto Ellie’s thigh, and she flicked your hand away. “You don’t get to touch me now, just be pretty and watch, okay?” She grunts. 
As the memories played in your mind, you sat on a bench outside the building, on the quad, legs crossed tightly, your thumbs pondering a reply to type. The wind blew a chill against the sensitive skin on your ears, burning them, “Hey.” 
Ellie’s face was freckled with light cracking through the clouds. She sat down next to you, hair tucked away in a black knit hat, and wearing a premature glare. 
“Hi.” You whisper.
She peered down at your phone, and the corner of her mouth lifted. 
“I saw you when I was coming out of the Technology building. You looked cold.” She chuckled awkwardly to fill the silence. 
“Ellie,” You start. “I'm sorry I didn’t text you or call.” 
“I see what this is.” She takes your hands into hers and blows warm air into the cup of your hands. 
“You do?” 
“I fall hard and fast and it’s something I have an issue with. Maybe I scared you into something you weren’t ready for, I do that. I liked you a lot, and I wanted this to go further but I can’t keep putting myself in the position to be more for you than you are for me.” 
You just nod as she lays a kiss on your cheek. 
“I understand.” You reply. 
Abby wiped the water from her mouth as she sipped out of her canteen. She noticed Ellie as she walked across an empty lawn, trekking towards you. She stopped in her tracks and watched as Ellie kissed you, her fist slowly curling into itself. The contact of her mouth on your body of any kind was the deepest betrayal she’d ever felt. The feeling of inadequacy pulsed through her as she watched the brunette slowly creep away, peering over her shoulder. Abby never fought, but the image of tackling Ellie to the ground was vivid in her mind. 
In the car ride home, Abby played music over the impermeable silence in the car, something she never did. Her thumbs pressed into the steering wheel with a tightness that could snap it into two. The routine felt different as she placed her bag on the floor and kicked her shoes off aggressively. She made an intentional mess, a display of how she was feeling inside.  
“How was your break?” She asked.
“What?” You quirk.
“The hour break we had. How was it?” She used her fingers to brush her locks to undo her braid. 
“Fine, how was your workout?” 
“Really good, finished early and saw you and Ellie keeping each other warm.” 
Her hands were on her hips, patiently awaiting an answer. You take your coat off, set your bag down, and walk over to her causing her to step away from you. “Don’t touch me.” She spat, holding her hands parallel to your chest. 
“Abby, it wasn’t what you think,” 
She raised her brow as to say, continue. 
“We broke it off. It’s done.” 
Her face relaxed slightly. 
“You and Ellie are done?” 
“It’s over Abby.” You wrap your arms around her waist and kiss her with a deep tenderness that makes her knees wobble. 
“It’s over, but she kissed you?” Abby felt the need to overshadow her blatant embarrassment.
She tugged her lip into her teeth and smiled. 
“I wasn’t expecting it. I think it was a friendly goodbye.”
“I should’ve been direct with you.” She admitted. 
“Yes, you’re right, you should have. But I should’ve told you immediately when I saw you before class.” 
She kissed your forehead, “Can you still help me cut my hair?” 
Abby pulled a chair from the dining room table and wrapped an old towel around her neck. She trusted you enough with the shears near her beautiful hair. Before she sat down, she placed the bands where she wanted her hair cut. It wasn't a lot off, but just enough. 
Abby wasn’t used to being taken care of. She felt an overwhelming sense of elation. The mixing of her emotions felt confusing yet so clear. When you finished cutting and brushing her scalp, all she could do was smile. “Would you like for me to wash it?”
Abby turned to you and scoffed, eyes wide with disbelief. “You don’t have to, you know that, right?” 
“I know, but I want to.” You kiss her forehead, and she closes her eyes, savoring the moment.
Abby bent over the tub in the bathroom as you removed the shower head and wet her scalp. The sweet, honey shampoo suds coaxed her freshly chopped hair, and Abby hummed pleasurably with every scratch. 
“You okay my dear?” You asked. 
“Yes, ” She replied with a smile you could hear.
I’m her dear, Abby thought. She was going to explode at the words alone, but she had to calm her beating heart. She was wondering if she’s pressuring you into commitment too quickly with no warning. But she couldn’t help it, everything about you made her fall deeper every day. You rinsed out the remaining product put a towel around her hairline, and pat her strands dry. 
“Ready for your conditioner?” You say, squeezing a glob into your palm. 
With Abby’s back against the tub, she just peered up at you, eyebrows damp, practically floating in the shine of you. “Abby?” You laugh. 
“Oh yes, yes?” 
“Why are you looking like that? Did I cut it too short?” You say, reaching for her ends.
“No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect. Why are you doing this?” 
“Helping with your hair?” You snort. 
“Not just this, everything…”
You shake your head and begin to apply the conditioner tip to the root. 
“I’m serious.” 
“Is it a crime to treat the woman I like soo much?” 
It was on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t just like you, she thinks she loves you. 
“It’s not.” She shrugs. 
“Let me take care of you. You deserve it, Abby.” 
“I don’t. I really don’t.” A silent slip from her subconscious leaked, and moments like that didn’t happen with Abby. Her eyes fell toward the titled floor. You lifted her chin with your slippery hand, leaving a splotch on her chin, making her giggle. 
“I’m not even going to reply to you.” You reply, dabbing her chin with the towel. 
“Why do you like me?” 
Abby sunk into the floor with her arms around her legs, pulling them closer to her chest. You crossed your legs and laid in the v-shape where her knees connected. “Who said I liked you at all Anderson?” You kid. 
She scuffs and hides her face with her hands. “That was a dumb question wasn’t it?” 
“No, because I do like you. I like that you’re so precise with everything. But other than that, I love how curious you are about the small things and how that impacts your attention to detail. These past few days, I noticed how you would throw my clothes in the dryer just before I wake up so they’re warm when I’m ready to go. You always take my bag to let up on any extra weight I put on myself, not just physically but mentally too. Rubbing my back until I sleep, soothing me. I love that, Abby.”
Abby knew her face was turning bright red, and she couldn’t hide it. 
“You know that, right? Abby? You make me feel safe.” You add. 
“I didn’t know that. I kind of think I’m putting a lot on you.” 
You begin brushing the product through her hair in sections. 
“It can feel like that sometimes when you spend most of your days with each other.” 
“I can’t show my feelings in other ways than taking care of you. I’m sorry.” 
“Why are you sorry? Abby, are you listening to what I’m saying?” 
She just shakes her head, leaving you wondering what’s going on through that mind of hers.
“Abby. Talk to me.” You beg. 
“I like you, I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone before and the feelings are strong and unfamiliar. The sex just intensifies it, y'know. I want to take care of you, make sure you’re happy and overall content with our lives together.” 
A string tugged in the lowest pit of your belly. 
“But Abby, you do know I want that for you too?” 
She retreated into herself, trying to shrink further into the floor. “Part of me wants that too and another part wants to accept it. It’s hard for me to receive it,” Abby felt reluctant to continue. “I don’t know.” 
“What were you about to say?” 
“Nothing..”
“Abby, please,”
“My whole life, well,” Her voice cracked. “I had to take care of myself. My parents — I never knew them well like I should have. Of course, up until I was maybe six my mom was around and my dad would always be working. I spent a lot of time on my own and I made sure I had to be the best at everything since that’s all I really had, being the best. Other than school, I picked up wrestling, Model UN, and Student Council, and I ran the Debate Team, I occupied so much of my time to distract from the fact that I felt so empty. Like I was searching for their love in other places.” 
Her hair clung to the sides of her face, and suddenly she appeared younger, like that little girl searching for love that would fill her up. Your chest became heavy with apparent sadness. You wiped your hands on the towel around her neck and brought your hand to her chin. 
“Do you feel like that with me?” 
“Anything but…” She grinned lightly. 
“You don’t have to prove anything to me.” 
“Yea?” 
“I like you, Abby. Just for you, even if you flunk out of school, lose this brain, this hair, and this perfect body, if you wanted to lose the parts of you that you think make you who you are, I would still see you as I always do. Please believe me when I say that.” 
Abby felt a tightening in her throat, your words made her feelings bubble over the edge of the pot called her heart. Her eyelids kissed, and a rolling tear tapped onto the back of her palm. She needed a moment, to herself, to let your words marinate in her mind. 
“It’s hard—”
“I know,” You shushed her and kissed her cheek. “Let’s get this conditioner out.” 
Abby stood in front of the mirror blowing her hair dry in her sports bra and a pair of cotton shorts hanging from her hips. Her face was stuck with a grimace that you wished to wipe from her face. You hug her waist, tugging her abs into your arms coating yourself in the dampness of her bra. 
“It looks great. Thank you,” She said, turning off the dryer. 
“Quit nursing school to do cosmetology?” 
“I’ll support you.” Her eyes narrowed before kissing you, and it felt different like all her desires from the beginning were crashing into you. A frantic gasp left her mouth while your lips wrapped around her tongue. Abby burned with an urgency that you couldn’t quite keep up with. Her chest puffs into yours, fighting for dominance and itching for more of your embrace. Abby leans down to brush her palm up the sides of your thighs, hoisting you into her arms onto her waist. You knew she could throw you any way she wanted, but it became real as you wrapped your legs around her body. You raise your hands to the sides of her face, forcing her deeper into the warmth of your mouth. The thin road of your lounge shorts became saturated with excitement. 
Although Abby yearned for you, she was sweet and supple, taking a fluid approach to her desires. She bit the bottom of your lip and sucked on the pink cushion. Her fingers explored the softest places she wanted to bite and bruise. She cupped your ass, pinching it with every lap of her tongue. Abby was levitating above this plane that you both existed on and merging onto a new one where only you two existed. She didn’t want to stop kissing you, feeling the weight of you in her arms this way and when you moved away slightly she frowned. 
She noticed your chest heaving, full of eagerness. 
“Abby, the HESI exam…” You carp in between the blonde’s kisses trailing your neck. 
“I know baby,” She buzzed on your skin, fully aware of her routine of studying, bathing, then bed. 
Abby knew school was her main priority, but in her heart, there was a shift to what the order of things in her life would soon become.
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ideaofheaven · 11 months
Text
— LESS SUGAR (onew x reader)
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Synopsis: A playful first impression with a certain shining idol in your own coffee shop takes your life into an interesting turn. A merge of two worlds, you never expect Jinki to provide you company and comfort. But he does, all the while ordering lattes and pastries.
Pairing: Lee Jinki x fem!reader
Genre: coffee shop!au, idol!Jinki, fluff (like, lots of fluff), piniiiing, angst, smut
Word count: 17376 words (lmao its a SLOW burn)
Warnings: sakura jinki!! (Yeah it’s a warning), mentions of diet, implied depressive episodes, heavy make out, vaginal fingering, Jinki big dick agenda, domsub undertones, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie (careful folks), minors dni!
AN: Happy 525 everyone! What other perfect timing to celebrate my love for SHINee’s leader. But actually, I wrote this one almost 2 years ago now?? And I thought yeah no way this will stay in drafts forever. I just need a sweet fic for dearest Jinki, you know? Please enjoy!
+++
You empty a box of newly arrived goods. After a few considerations, maybe you should’ve arranged the displays at night when you have more time instead of in the mornings before you open the store. But they look fine as it is; the coffee grounds are lined up neatly, and the rustic decors compliment them well. Deciding the shop is all ready, you check the time. It’s only a few minutes before 7 o’clock, so you flip the wooden sign from ‘close’ to ‘open’.
Almost a year has passed since you opened your own cafe. The journey wasn’t a walk in the park. From the loans, experimenting in your apartment kitchen, and the amount of time and energy spent gathering the resources. But you made it, now owning a small cafe that can house up to fifteen customers. Often perceived as a friendly person, you managed to gather a handful of regulars.
The bell chimes, and you turn to see your regular coming in through the door. “Good morning, Eunmi!” You chirp, before noticing her gloomy visage. “You look particularly bright today. The usual?”
The regular, Eunmi, is a working woman who lives nearby with her husband. She sighs before nodding. "I only slept for a couple of hours.” She drags herself to the counter. “Do you remember that co-worker I told you about?”
She rambles on, complaining about this and that while you tinker with your coffee machine. Occasionally you laugh, but you mostly take your time to listen. Eunmi is the one who requested you to open the store earlier. Not having any problem with mornings, you happily oblige. Ever since, with a raging need for someone to vent to and a caffeine boost, she visits daily.
“You should take a day off,” you advise while finishing off the beverage. You grab the paper cup carefully, gesturing to Eunmi who’s still sitting down. “One almond caffe mocha to go.”
“I’ll think about it,” she murmurs tiredly as she gets up, dragging herself to her coffee. “I’m off, then. Thanks for the drink!”
With a wave, she leaves the cafe. There goes your early morning regular. You go back to your favorite pastime, rearranging the items on your shelf. You are contemplating putting the house blend on the front counter to replace the Vietnamese Arabica when the door chimes. Delighted, you shout, “Welcome!”
A man walks in hesitantly. At that moment, you can't possibly recognize him. He wears a mask and a baseball hat. The hoodie and the dark jeans make him appear like one of the people from your neighborhood. 
What you notice is that he’s a new customer, and his eyes are... pretty.
You push the last thought aside and switch to your customer service mode. “Here’s the menu,” you gush, your voice sounding too pitchy to your ears. The man blinks at you before his gaze falls on the printed paper.
Your mind betrays you and chooses to zone in on the man before you. He’s tall. His dark brown hair stops above the nape of his neck with soft strands of fringe framing his defined heart-shaped face. Though it's hidden by the mask, you can see his high cheekbones. Despite that, you can’t help but focus on his hooded soft brown eyes.  From your place behind the counter, you’ve seen many attractive people. You noticed their neat makeup, their perfectly curled hair, their luscious lips, or the way they dress. Being attracted to someone’s eyes seems incredulous. But even his eyebrows look nicely groomed.
He lifts his gaze which inevitably meets yours. Your stomach lurches in embarrassment and you stupidly let out an “oh” before putting your best smile. Please don’t notice. “What would you like to order?”
If he notices, he doesn’t show any sign. “Can I have a brown sugar latte to go?” 
His voice sounds like the drink itself; warm, sweet, and syrupy. You perk up. “Great choice. Will that be all?” The man tilts his head, humming. Cute.
“Make it with an extra shot of espresso.” You’re already grabbing the pack of grounds when you respond with good humor, “Tough day ahead?” At that, he chuckles, low and bright at the same time. Warm and syrupy indeed. “Everyday is a tough day at work.”
You laugh, but perhaps the curiosity in your expression is too obvious, because the mysterious customer’s eyes crinkle with amusement. 
“It's tough work, but I love my job,” he says in what you perceive as teasing. 
“Sure, sure,” you snicker, now pouring measured liquid brown sugar into the paper cup. You’re confident in your coffee-making skills, and you can’t wait to hear his reaction. Maybe he can join your not-so-long list of regulars.
“Brown sugar latte with double shot.” You give him the paper cup. “Enjoy!”
Another eye crinkle smile grazes his covered face. With a closer look, there’s a slight jaw movement behind his mask. “Thank you very much,” he responds and you notice the formality. “By the way, do you happen to sell any food?”
You bite the insides of your mouth. “Yes, but I only stock them later,” you explain ruefully. “The bakery usually delivers the pastries at 9 o’clock. I apologize.” You bow and he immediately raises both of his hands, waving them frantically. 
“Oh, no, no, it’s okay. What do you have?”
“We have a selection of buns, scones, pound cakes, egg tarts,” you gush. “They’re all delicious. But I personally like their traditional pastries. Injeolmi, red bean rice cake, yakbap, fried tteok dumplings. Auntie does a great job every time.” 
Unlike other cafes that bake their own food, you work together with the local bakery that happens to make the best traditional pastries you’ve ever tried. You know they aren’t as popular as the more western pastries, but they always pull the older customers to your cafe, even becoming your regulars.
His eyebrows shoot up all of a sudden, “You have yakbap?” He asks in apparent surprise which you mirror excitedly. “Yes! Oh my god, do you like them?” He nods. “Would you like to try? I can have them stocked tomorrow.”
“Isn’t that too much trouble?”
"Of course not. But," you emphasize. "You have to come visit tomorrow morning. Promise?” The surge of boldness takes you out of nowhere. He’s just one customer who only bought one drink, but you can’t deny the urge to see him again. So when you saw the chance, you knew you had to take it.
“I will, I promise,” he chuckles and your worries melt away, swept away by the soothing voice of his promise.
+++
At 8 o’clock, the door chimes. You almost jump from behind the counter.
“Good morning,” the man from yesterday greets you with a small bow. Today he’s wearing a dark jacket over a simple tee. Without yesterday's baggy clothes, the outfit centers on his broad shoulders well. A mask is still in place, but now without the hat, you can see more of him. At least more of his soft-looking short brown hair. A surge of familiarity rushes through you. After a quick run through your memories, your mind comes up blank. You shrug off the thought but he’s faster to notice you zoning out.
“What? I promised, didn’t I?” He mumbles, and you respond with a small laugh, “You did.”
You usher him to the counter, pulling out a small basket. “Now here’s my end of the deal.”
“What’s all this?” He glances in the basket. Inside is a handful of pastries, covered neatly in plastic wrap. “There’s so many!” 
You smile proudly. “I asked the bakery for a sampler basket. So these are their best-sellers. We have a kaya bun, blueberry lemon scone, garlic basil bread, yakbap,” you wink, “fried tteok dumplings, and red bean rice cake.”
“Wait--”
“And I’ll give you a special price.” You send him another cheeky grin, and you feel triumphant when you see his resigned face.
“I didn’t expect you would prepare a whole basket… But thank you,” he sighs before breaking into one of his eye-smiles. It looks so familiar and the feeling starts to gnaw at you once more. Like reaching out to remember a dream, it feels close yet you can't come up with a name to associate his face with. You snap back to reality, hearing him say something in your direction. “Yes?”
“I’d like to have the drink from yesterday,” he states almost giddily. “It’s delicious. I thought it’d be too sweet.”
Oh. You cover a smile with the back of your hand, secretly proud of yourself. Elated, you lean in before you even know it, catching your customer's attention.
“Be sure to come back for more, then.” Right after the words leave your mouth, you recoil. You sound like you were flirting, and you don't flirt with customers.
“Oh, don’t mind if I do." You stare at him in surprise, seeing the teasing glint in his eyes. Flustered, your throat tightens.
“R-right. One brown sugar latte coming up.” Warm, sweet, syrupy… Sticky.
After finishing the latte with sprinkles of cinnamon powder on top, you put the plastic cap on and bring it to your only customer. The man is sitting in the corner, on one of the chairs that has its back on you. He's eating a piece of yakbap from a plastic wrapper when you approach the table. “Here’s-"
Perhaps, that day you forget that people eat with their mouths. Uncovered. In the end, nothing prepares you to witness the face behind the mask.
A few weeks ago, you were watching TV on your couch. One of your favorite dramas had just ended, so you were stuck watching a random variety show. Loud screams pierced your ears, making you jump so you checked the show. A couple of people were sitting at the table, and one of them, a handsome young man with light brown hair and lovely eyes, was reenacting his version of the famous Gwiyomi song. What a weird guy, you thought with a laugh while seeing him kiss each of his fingers just a little too passionately.
“- your drink,” you finish shakily. The new information almost freezes you in place but you put on your best (worst, stiff) customer service smile anyway. Defying another expectation, Onew - oh god, it is him - takes the paper cup from your hand. Your fingers touch briefly and you swear there's a jolt that tickles. The idol is staring at you with a hint of worry, indicating he knows the cat's out of the bag.
You should leave him be, he might be uncomfortable. But then, a sight of empty plastic wrappers catches your attention. "How's the food?" You inquire placidly. Creative.
The worry in his face dissipates very slightly and you realize how different he looks now without the mask. You can see the plump lips parting before he says, "You're right, they're so good."
The compliment somehow melts your worries. 
"Right? They taste exactly the same since I was a child. Auntie had just started baking the western pastries a few years ago, but she’s too tired to run the bakery full-time. So I thought having her pastries in my cafe would be perfect," you stop, internally scolding yourself for rambling all that to the celebrity, "I talk too much don't I?"
"You own this cafe?" The man asks instead, his mouth gaping and eyes wide. Adorable.
"Owner, barista, waitress, slash everything," you rub the back of your neck, pressured by the questioning gaze he has on you. Without his mask, he seems more intense. Or, you are subconsciously affected by his idol status. While this is not the first time you meet a celebrity from behind the counter, it is the first time you're engaged in conversation with them. Especially with someone of a high tier like him. Someone amazing.
"That's amazing." His voice echoes, jolting you back to reality
"What?" You sputter. He definitely notices you zoning out because his smile - you can see his mouth now, oh god - is too mischievous and knowing. This is getting too much.
Rigidly, you peek into the paperbag, noticing the amount of pastries left. "What are you going to do with them?" Onew looks at the paperbag before standing up and grabbing the bag. "I'll share them with people at work."
You step back with a laugh. "Do you think they'll like it?"
"I think they will. Well, some can't enjoy it due to… a strict diet. But one won't hurt." Onew takes his coffee in one hand, and the paperbag in the other. He raises both hands slightly, gesturing with the items. "Thank you. I'll be going now."
"No,” you begin tentatively, “Thank you, Onew." 
You internally pat yourself on the back for letting that out.
His ever so expressive eyebrows rise before he lets out a bark of laughter. "Well, isn't that unfair."
"What is?"
"I see you know my name already," he supplies, staring down at you with a pretty gummy smile. "But I don't know yours."
Heat rushes to your cheeks when his words sink into your brain. You would pray it wouldn't show but you find your tongue unable to form useful words. Instead, as an uncontrolled fight or flight reaction, it responds haughtily, "Come back tomorrow, and I'll tell you."
You curse the random unsolicited rush of courage. But Onew's surprised expression is already morphing into a half smirk, and you can't decide if you regret it.
"Deal. I'll see you tomorrow, miss."
Exactly one minute after the door closes, you curl up on the floor and let out a groan. What just happened?
+++
Jinki knows he shouldn't be doing this.
That morning, he woke up exactly three hours before his first schedule of the day. The warm sunlight tempted him to go for a jog, but the ache crawling through his body reminded him what a bad idea that was. The day before, the dance instructor had drilled them with another wild choreography, and in the morning, his joints were positively protesting.
So he took a walk. Enjoying the sunlight, he left the rows of high-rise apartments for the quiet residential complex. The bustle of the crowded market and gossipy house-wives felt like a calming noise, and he continued his walk until he turned one corner.
Nothing should've caught his attention, but everything did. The shop's facade of pale red bricks was a splash of color in between the other buildings. A couple of vintage lantern lamps decorated the shop, and there were wooden signs with intricate lettering on the wall and glass door. Jinki realized it was a coffee shop, a small one. There and then he thought he needed his caffeine, and the nearest Starbucks was blocks away. So he went in, met the cute barista, got a delicious latte, and left.
And ever since, he keeps coming back for more.
“Someone enjoys visiting this little place,” she laughs one morning, cocky and amused. It’s his visit for the third time in a row. Borrowing her high energy and boldness, he smirks in reply.
"You’re the one who asked me, though," he mentions, holding a small cup of her manual brew. A new house blend, she had mentioned. It has a subtle sweetness to it, which Jinki likes.
"Asked what?"
"To come back here." 
She chuckles, that rare hint of shyness surfacing once more. "I was just messing around."
But he wasn't, and back then, he would do anything to get to know her name. So the day after her request, Jinki returned. After an order of one brown sugar latte and five miscellaneous pastries, all to-go, Jinki sat down and propped his chin on top of his folded hands, waiting. His legs were fidgeting, a sign of anticipation and nervousness that he was well attuned with.
"Are you dining in?" She asked, probably feigning innocence, as she shuffled through various packets of coffee. What a tease.
"No," he responded curtly.
She moved away from the shelves to the edge of the counter, facing him. Oh, she's doing this on purpose. With a hand covering her mouth, she laughed silently. Jinki thought she shouldn't hide her laughter, or her smile, because it’s pretty and bright, just like her. 
"I'm sorry, I owe you something, don't I?" She asked sweetly, like those drinks she makes for him.
"Yes, you do." Jinki managed out, a crooked smile gracing his lips in a low effort intimidation.
"Okay, okay," she resigned. "You should make a habit of checking the bill, Onew."
Realization hit him and he rushed to pull the bill out of his pocket. There, written in neat handwriting, was a name. In awe, he said it once, testing it on his tongue—and he heard a crash.
"Oh--oops," she clambered to grab the fallen coffee packages. Jinki was wondering how attached this woman was to her coffee supply before he took a glance at her face. Pink tinted her cheeks and he wouldn't lie, it was a sight to see. Presumably annoyed, she was about to say something but Jinki just called her name once more, abruptly stopping her. So he raised his chin, taking a better look at the flustered barista with a satisfactory smile, “Everything okay back there?”
She nodded once before turning away, cheeks still flaming as she broke their eye contact. He just laughed. Cute.
Today, he finds himself once more in front of her store. Earlier, he found out Minho already had plans to visit his mother, and so, Jinki was left alone in the dorms. He's used to being alone in the apartment, but today he has a particular yearning to be somewhere else but home.
"Onew," she greets, ever so cheerful in the mornings. "The usual?"
Despite the merciless schedule in his line of work, Jinki hasn't met a lot of morning people. Especially the ones who are comfortable with an early schedule by nature. It took him years after debuting before his internal alarm worked properly. And after hundreds of cranky morning schedules, he finally could manage his mood well. She must have been born with the sun smiling upon her. Perhaps that is her destiny, to wake up effortlessly and share her energy through caffeinated beverages. Jinki has an urge to ask if she ever stays up late, maybe later.
"Actually, can I have an iced americano?" Jinki asks after a quick glance at the menu. This time he needs something with less sugar.
She is beaming, as usual. "Sure. But I recommend you drink it fast, it's warm outside—"
"I'm having it here." Jinki already grabs a seat, putting his bag and pulling out a book. Her expression is a mixture of confusion and delight. "...Is it okay?"
"Of course!" She exclaims all too fast before rushing to her tools.
An amicable silence stretches. Hisses and clamor from behind the counter occasionally fill the air, but otherwise it's quiet. After endless days in a loud environment, he appreciates the silence. He can’t remember the last time he sat still like this, without TV or a Youtube video to accompany him. He takes his book, a best-selling novel he picked up from the airport months ago during his work trip, and starts reading it. When his iced americano arrives, he thanks her properly and dives back into the story.
It's peaceful. At some point, she puts on music. Slow to medium-tempo songs in foreign languages, and it doesn't disrupt his reading, in fact, he enjoys it.
During his stay, customers come and go. He can't see them, because his back is facing the major part of the cafe. But he can hear them clearly. And interestingly, they talk a lot. One customer, a young girl, comes up to you, gets a large glass of iced chocolate milk, and proceeds to tell you about her crush. Another, an elderly man who apparently visits regularly, orders one hot barley tea and a red bean paste bun. Then he starts to give her updates on his newborn grandchild. Jinki hears her squeal before she asks for the man’s wife or daughter.
He finds all the interaction endearing, somehow.
"So, what's the occasion?"
The sun is now high up in the sky, signalling it's nearing noon. Jinki was feeling tiny pricks of hunger when she appeared near his table, a few tupperware in hand. "It gets lonely," she said cheekily. With each little talk they exchange, Jinki wonders why he didn’t ask her to sit here earlier, enjoying her company very much. And not before long, she offered some of her food to him, which he accepted with little resistance.
“You’ve never dined in before, what’s the occasion?”
Jinki takes one slice of rolled omelet with his chopsticks. "It's my day off," he answers.
"You have a day off, and you came here?" She looks up from her food and gapes at him. He nods.
"The apartment's empty, Minho is visiting his parents."
"It must be lonely."
"Not anymore,” he responds in earnest, and a grin emerges when he sees her fluster. Jinki is not a prideful person. He doesn’t absorb compliments like it’s his source of energy. However, knowing he can affect people like this, especially in such tight interaction, does boost his ego in a productive way. Additionally, he enjoys seeing her reaction. She’s very put together, confident, sometimes cheeky, but those rare moments when she gets caught off guard charm him. It’s like her fire turns into cotton candy, all cute and sweet.
Jinki can’t get enough of her.
“Is that one of your killer moves, Onew-ssi?” She says, hiding her strangled laugh by raising her chin with defiance. But he knows better. See? Charming.
He puts his chopstick down, and proceeds to lean his head on one knuckle. The gesture seems to affect her, because her smile falls and she’s blinking rapidly at him. “No, it’s not," he states before an idea pops into his head. "Call me Jinki."
Her mouth falls open. “What?”
“Please call me Jinki.”
He watches as she gapes wordlessly, like a cat got her tongue. In the end, she just nods softly, saying a quiet “Okay,” with a bashful whisper of his name. Hearing it, Jinki can’t help the giddiness bubbling inside him and a smug smile that graces his lips. His name sounds pretty on her tongue, and he immediately knows he will want to hear it more. 
Jinki thinks maybe that is his killer move.
+++
To have a celebrity coming back to your cafe, and getting to know them is an oddly enjoyable experience.
One morning Onew--no, Jinki arrives with all his attention on his phone. He’s typing furiously before craning his neck to see you. “(Y/n),” he says in an exaggerated whine, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting comically cute, “Kibum is being mean to me. He said we can’t hang out today. I’m so sad. I need my sad coffee so can you please get me a--”
“Jinki, don’t--”
“A despresso?”
“Oh my god,” you sigh audibly, a fond grin in place, making him snicker as he rubs the back of his head.
"Get it? Like espresso but depress-"
"Yes, Jinki. I get it."
Every time Jinki visits, you enjoy his company. Granted, he’s not the type to talk much, and when he does, he always manages to surprise you. You don’t know what’s worse, his dad jokes, or the fact that he’s not aware how much he’s driving you crazy. Does he know his teasing words can be wrongly interpreted as flirting? Does he know he looks good in even worn out shirts? Does he know you start to think he's been coming here not only for the coffee? With that being said, you weren’t prepared for Jinki’s presence in close proximity almost everyday.
"Whatcha' doing?" Jinki asks, his face leaning over the high counter, peeking into your workspace. His mask is off, and like his perfect face is not distracting enough, he's wearing a black sweater that snug nicely on his body. You notice how broad his shoulders are, or how his collarbones look so prominent, hanging above defined pecs. Focus, you have a job.
"I'm trying to make a new drink," you reply, measuring in teaspoons of the powder you prepared. You take the recently bought bamboo whisk to mix the powder. New tools in the kitchen always get you excited, especially if it’s your first time using it.  "Do you know hojicha?"
He tilts his head, thinking, and you wonder if it's necessary for him to jut his lower lips like that. "No. Is it Japanese?"
"Mmhm, it's Japanese roasted green tea.” You start whisking the water and the hojicha powder, and Jinki gawks. As the mixture gets frothy, you elaborate. "I've been wanting to try to make it, maybe someone will be interested." Grabbing another cup, you mix the diluted powder and the milk, the ash-colored tea mixture turning the milk into gray-ish brown. "They say it tastes best with milk."
"Ah, really?" Without a warning, Jinki shots one hand forward, taking the glass from your nimble hand. You yelp at the sudden movement. He then takes a big gulp, craning his neck to drink it properly and you can't take your eyes off of his Adam's apple as it moves with each gulp, and the veins running on his neck. Shit. He pulls the glass away, and using his other hand, he wipes his mouth. Your throat goes dry. 
Unaware of your struggle, he hums, "It's good. Bitter, but good.”
Shaking yourself back to reality, you take a deep breath. "I was about to say I hadn't put the sugar in."
"I think you don’t need it. Or just put a little," he grins, gesturing the aforementioned amount with his index finger and thumb, a small distance lingers between them. His fingers are pretty, you think absentmindedly. His other hand puts the empty glass back onto the counter. "You're really good at this."
At that, your heart swells with pride. "Of course, I don't want my customers to go."
"Me as well?"
"You as well,” you state, genuine. You can tell him that as much. “My early morning was never this fun."
Jinki snorts. “Me? Fun?” He asks, pointing a finger at himself. “People say I’m weird.”
“No offense, Jinki, I didn’t say you’re not weird.” The man barks a laugh and you join in. “But that’s what makes you fun. You're not boring."
Not for the first time, you witness his expression turn sheepish, almost shy and awkward. His fingers fidget behind his folded arms. But he quickly recovers, waving off your compliment.
"What about the other customers?"
The question perks your attention. "I have the best regulars," you reply, thinking of all your customers and their anecdotes. "I love talking to them."
"They seem to like gossiping with you."
"They do! Jinki, they talk a lot. There's this lady who will order parfaits only when she's upset or having a fight with her boyfriend. And also the working man who usually comes in evenings, he always asks if I serve alcohol. It's really hilarious—"
"But you always listen to them."
"Of course I do. Like I said, I love talking to them, I really do. Granted, mostly I just listen to them venting out their problems. But I guess it helps and my beverages too - " you stop yourself. "Sorry. D-did I bore you?"
"No, not at all," he answers, short and fast and most definitely teasing. "I enjoyed it. Come on, tell me more." Jinki is still leaning on the counter. His head is in his propped hand, eyes crinkling in amusement, and his plump lips are curling into a soft smile that makes your heart race. You feel warmth crawling on your cheeks.
"Don't say that. Gosh, that was embarrassing." You're still trying to hide your face behind your hands when a large palm lands on your head. You look up, and see Jinki who has straightened his back to full height, looming over you. Then, his hand is in your hair, ruffling it playfully.
"Cute," Jinki coos with a smile that shows his brilliant teeth and melts your insides into goo. After messing with your hair, he pulls his hand back and you swear his fingers brush past your cheekbones, the touch eliciting shivers down your spine. Unbothered, Jinki goes on his merry way and continues talking about random things as if nothing happened.
The audacity.
+++
"Alright, spill, what's up."
Eunmi's voice pulls you back to reality. Smell of food floods your senses, sweet and sour from kimchi and vinegar, and you remember your lunch with Eunmi. You look at your friend who's grabbing her spoon with a slight annoyance clear on her face.
"What? Nothing," you insist, diving back to your buckwheat noodles to avoid her piercing stare. She tsks at you, not buying the excuse.
"Nothing my ass, you've been staring at the pickles this whole time."
You're not in your cafe, in fact, you close it up for a while to have lunch out. Eunmi invited you to a restaurant near her office, only one station away from the store. It’s a cozy diner that’s not too crowded or loud, so you can talk comfortably. Eunmi brings her own car, and promises to drive you back after lunch.
The fact that even Eunmi realizes your weirdness makes you startled. You listen to her a lot, but it’s never the opposite case. You know your friend well enough to understand she won’t usually catch up on your mood swings, especially because you’re not the kind of person who shows your emotion on your sleeves. But that man just won’t leave your mind, not after driving you crazier with each passing day. Jinki keeps coming over, all smiles and charms and never forgetting to compliment you and your drinks.
And for whatever reason, you always end up talking about yourself for a good amount of time. That never happened before, not before him. You prefer to listen, and you do that well. But with Jinki, rarely does he ramble to you, instead it’s the other way around. Without a doubt, you’re getting too comfortable with him. And how can you not? He’s humble, polite, his smile lights up the whole room, and he looks like that. All soft brown hair and handsome.
"I know that face," Eunmi interrupts your trail of thoughts, her face beaming with mischief. You blink your eyes. That can’t be good.  "There's someone, isn't there?"
"What? No!"
"Nu-uh, you can't fool your unnie. You’re smiling like a teenager just now,” she teases while grabbing another spoonful of her dried pollack soup.
You splutter. “I-I did?”
“So, who is it? Come on, tell me something. My coworkers suck and I need some drama."
Cursing your luck, you grumble. Eunmi must be very perceptive to recognize the look on your face. But telling her about Jinki is impossible. You won’t be able to get away by saying “I think Onew from SHINee has been flirting with me non-stop.” It’s going to be a mess--no, a mess would be an understatement.
You take a deep breath, “It’s complicated, okay?”
"Tell me about it." Eunmi snorts.
“I can’t tell you just yet.”
She stares at you directly. “But?”
“It’s just…” You begin, hand already moving to cover your mouth, as if it could help you from the massive embarrassment you feel while discussing this. “I don’t know if I’m reading things correctly,” then, “Like, what if I’m wrong?”
“So you don’t know if he’s into you, or he’s just being nice.”
"Exactly!” you gasp.
She suddenly smirks, leaning back against the chair, "That's easy, just make a move."
"Make a move?"
"Yeah, make a move,” she repeats easily, “Do something similar to what he did to you, and see his reaction. Maybe he's just waiting."
You ponder upon her advice. It’s solid, and actually doable. Albeit unsure, you keep it in mind. "Alright, I’ll try.”
You finish your lunch and go back to the cafe. Eunmi, being the best combination of a friend and a customer, requests a chocolate marshmallow frappe before she returns to her office. Back to your usual place behind the counter, and Eunmi on the chair, she tells you about her vacation plan.
“A long weekend trip with your husband? That’s amazing!” You exclaim to Eunmi who’s radiating happiness.
Eunmi slurps at her drink, humming pleasantly from the sweetness. “Mm-hm,” she responds, the joy radiating from her is a refreshing sight compared to the usual gloom. “We’re going to Damyang.”
“I’m so happy for you,” you gush, patting the older woman’s shoulder. “So you’re leaving tomorrow?” 
She nods. “Finally, a time off from those douchebags.”
You laugh, remembering her stories of the god-awful co-workers, then a jingle halts you.
“Oh, welcome!” You say and immediately feel your stomach drop as you see Jinki. Shit, the timing is so bad. Jinki rarely comes in the afternoon, what's up with the rare occurrence? And just by scanning his clothes, you’re more baffled, because today's outfit today is more extreme than usual. He’s wearing one of his worn out track pants and regular trainers.The grey jacket looks okay but he’s wearing the hoodie over a snapback. You can’t see even a strand of his hair. By default, his mask is also on, so you’re not too worried about him being recognized by Eunmi.
Jinki makes his order, glancing at you with sharp eyes, something he doesn’t usually do because you already know his usual menu. You just respond formally before dashing to where your drink machine is at, from the corner of your eye you see him taking a seat near the corner. Not long after, Eunmi’s face is in front of you, worried.
“He looks sketchy,” she whispers in a rush. Jinki? Sketchy? You bit your lip, trying to hold your blank expression in place, instead of the urge to grin.
“Really? I think he’s been here before, though.”
“How can you recognize him? This guy’s all covered from head to toe, (Y/n). It’s so creepy. I hope your man doesn't look like that."
You almost choke on air. Internally you're praying Jinki didn't hear the last part. “Right, right.” You peek at Jinki with a bothered expression, crafted meticulously to deceive Eunmi. You're definitely going to tease Jinki about this later. “I’ll be careful.”
Eunmi grabs her plastic cup before hoisting the bag up her shoulder. She points her manicured nails at you. “You better be, ‘cause I have to go now. Call me if anything happens, okay?”
“I will, don’t worry,” you smile at your customer. Eunmi waves at you, gives a pointed look at Jinki’s back, and goes out of the store. As soon as the door closes, you slump on your post, letting out a loud and exaggerated sigh. You turn your sight to Jinki and find him facing you in his chair. The shit-eating grin on his face makes you more tired.
"Don't get closer, (Y/n)," he acts out, and you're already rolling your eyes. "I might bite."
You blow a raspberry while striding towards his table, a drink in hand. "Sure, sure, can't trust strangers who wear too many hoodies all the time," you grumble, putting Jinki's iced americano on the table.
The man has the audacity to pout at you in retaliation. "Not all the time."
You giggle. "What's the occasion, then?"
"Nothing." He slurps the black coffee, nonchalant and ridiculously bad at lying.
Baffled, you glare at the man who keeps drinking the beverage without care. With another brief observation, you note his outfit is actually not that different than usual. But he never wears a hoodie and a snapback. You can't even see his hair.
Oh.
“I get it!” You clap your hands excitedly as if you’re a seal. “It’s your hair, isn’t it?”
Jinki hisses through gritted teeth, forcing a crooked grin while his eyes are already looking away from yours. Bingo.
“Is it a new color? Did you cut it short?” 
Mischievously, Jinki puts a finger in front of his plump lips. “Company secret.”
You pout, and he chuckles. The mischief in his face is annoying yet somehow innocent, you can't bring yourself to get mad at him. It doesn’t help that he looks positively entertained by his own game of guess. But you're ever the curious one, and seeing there's no other customer right now, you have to find out what's behind the hat. 
Without much thought, you swat a hand at his snapback, tipping everything that's covering his head backwards. 
"Hey!"
As if in slow motion, the hood of his jacket is pushed back, and the hat falls to the floor. Anticipation builds up in your mind when you realize you’re about to see the hair. You hear Jinki yelp, and—
"It's pink!" You gasp out, overwhelmed. Out of all things, you didn't expect to find a mop of mauve pink colored hair underneath the hat. The shade is slightly muted, making it look less artificial. For some reason, it fits Jinki so well. His lightly tanned skin and the hair combined creates an exotic appearance of him.
Jinki is now pouting again, jutting out his lower lip like the hair is a punishment. "I wanted to surprise you, you know."
You tut at him, but leans down to take Jinki's cap off the floor, dusting it slightly. "How long would I have to wait?"
"Uh, until the comeback?"
"You haven't even announced the date," you reply with an unamused expression.
Jinki chuckles. "That's true." Out of a sudden, he poses. "Ta-da! Now you know I have pink hair." The sight brings warmth, because gosh, he's a sight to see. Then, with a huff, Jinki twirls the locks of the aforementioned hair, playing it around. "It's my first time, too."
You, however, are not paying attention to what he's saying. Questions pop into your head, wondering if Jinki’s hair feels soft like how it looks right now. With the lighting in your store interior, combined with warm natural light from the outside, the hair color looks chrome-like. It’s, no pun intended, shiny. All of a sudden, you feel a strong urge to touch it, curious how it will feel against your fingertips. Albeit hesitant, Eunmi’s words echo in your ears, motivating you to test the waters.
Leaning down, you ignore Jinki’s confused gaze and pull a lock of the sakura-colored hair. Your hunch is proven correct, it’s soft and luscious. As if in entrance, you caress more of his teresses, moving them out of his eyes while your fingertips occasionally graze his ear. You’re positively jealous of the care that goes into this man’s hair. It’s so soft, you want to pet it all day. Jinki can lay his head in your lap and you’ll definitely caress his hair all day long without a single complaint. The thought makes you giddy.
Your silly daydream is abruptly stopped when a large hand closes around your wrist, gentle yet firm. Realizing what you’ve done, you yelp.
“I’m sorry, I just--” You look down from the mop of hair to Jinki’s eyes, wide and as surprised as you. The close proximity catches you off guard. When did you lean in this close? 
All of a sudden, every word dies in your throat. But his next words bring more surprise.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Y-yes?"
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Jinki cuts through the endless chatter running in your head. That’s not a question you ask out of nowhere, isn’t it? His voice, as usual, is warm… syrupy, but there’s a darker edge in it that you can’t comprehend. You blink at the question, still mute from the shock.
As if shocked by his own question, he visibly gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing and stealing your attention for a second.
“That customer said something about your man.” he murmurs reluctantly. Realization hits you hard, and your jaw drops. So he did hear your conversation with Eunmi.
“No!” You blurt in a rising panic. “There’s no man. No boyfriend.” With each word, your voice becomes more quiet, the embarrassment sucking away your confidence in front of him. But It doesn't help that Jinki’s scrutinizing you from under his eyelashes, making you shrink even more. Finally, the corners of his lips quirk up.
“Really?” He asks, sounding pleased.
"Yeah. She's just teasing me. She does that a lot," you explain with a nervous laugh. You don't know how convincing your lie is, but it makes him hum, the sound is like music to your ears.
“Good,” he whispers before you feel his thumbs rubbing circles on your wrist, languid and relaxed. The calluses of his thumb drag against your smooth skin and you inhale sharply, feeling ripples of heat course through your body from the touch. His half-lidded eyes are now assessing you and you can’t look away as they move on to your lips. As if falling under a spell, the action triggers you to spontaneously look at his lips in turn, full and parted and driving you crazy.
A loud voice jolts you two back to reality. A ringtone. Phone call.
Jinki lets go of your wrist, now panicking and patting his pockets. "It's mine. Where is it, where is it..." When he finds the phone, he picks it up while standing up. "Yes, hyung?"
You see him walk away with clouded senses. Unable to pick which feeling is appropriate to express, disbelief or relief, you give up and run away from the premises, choosing to bury yourself behind the workspace.
+++
"How did it go with your man?" Eunmi asks, face literally glowing after her vacation.
You only groan in reply.
+++
It's closing time.
Moving on to the table top surfaces, you take a cloth, spraying it with a liquid cleaner and getting it ready to wipe the surface. It's going to take a while, but you don't mind. Cleaning makes your mind wander, but at least you're doing something productive.
It's one of the nights you stay late to tidy up new items and play around in the kitchen. You had finished the second attempt of an earl grey frappe before you began tidying up. The clock struck 10 o'clock a few minutes ago, so it's already an hour after your closing time. You already flipped the sign to close, but your lights are still on, intending to turn them off when you leave the store.
Days had passed after that weird confrontation with Jinki. The close proximity you shared that day still brings you heat and confusion in equal amounts, and Jinki didn't make it easier for you to get through the following days. You never addressed that day, not at all. But do things go back to normal? Not exactly.
Jinki keeps getting closer to you. You notice the brush of his fingers against your skin while passing his drink, when you talk on his table he'd tap your arm, or when he's about to leave he likes to give a playful squeeze on your shoulders. On rare occasions, he would tuck your hair out from your face while smiling sweetly before rucking the tresses into a mess. Unhelpful. In addition, you can’t stop talking to him. The man has an excellent capability to extract words from you, asking things about yourself, from your favorite drink to your life before this cafe. 
With the comeback date getting close, it’s not surprising when he doesn’t visit as often anymore. Once in a few days he’d come through your door and then scream your name, saying a nonsensical “I miss you!” Little did he know you share the same sentiment, but multiplied and definitely lack the jest. 
With his absence, your heart longs more for him. You realize the intangible distance between the two of you has decreased, and you can’t suppress your feelings anymore. It’s silly to fall for an idol, cliche, even. But with his soft demeanor and warm smile that always graces his heart-shaped face, it’s impossible not to.
Despite the admittance of feelings, you’re still in a limbo. You’re not an expert in love. Chasing your dream from a young age, you have no time for romance. You’ve had a fair share of crushes here and there, but never this complicated. It’s impossible to ask for advice, too.
Remembering Eunmi's words, you did make your move on Jinki. And his response was something you never quite get. Did he hate it when you touched his hair? Can you even consider making a move that time a success? Do you even know what success would be like? Many times you stopped yourself from touching him again, whether it’s his hair (which is still bright pink, by the way), or to grab his hand for whatever reason. You’re so drawn to him, like a moth to flames and it’s making you helpless.
By the time you finish polishing the last inch of the counters, the door jingles. An annoyed sigh escapes your mouth, someone doesn’t read the sign on your store. You turn to the door.
"I'm sorry, we're already closed—"
Upon recognizing the visitor, your heart beats faster with surprise and inexplicable yearning. You haven’t seen him in days, and you already forgot what he sounds like. He’s wearing another random baseball hat, but the usual mask is absent. His lips are turned into a frown, his brown eyes, usually so full of life, are unfocused, and the eyebags look prominent. The unusual state makes your stomach twist with discomfort.
"Jinki?” You take a step closer. “It's very late."
The mention of his name jerks him back to reality. Raising his head, his gaze locks with yours wearily. Tentatively, he opens his mouth, trying to get words out, but nothing comes out and he looks away, looking so defeated. Running by instincts, you step closer to him, pulling him by the wrist to drag him in. Now with him standing close to you, you can see the tiredness on his face. The little freckles on his skin are like constellations of stars, you notice he’s not wearing makeup, and you can’t help but find the mole on his chin endearing. He looks so beautiful, but tired.
"Jinki," you call out again, worry lacing each word. "Are you okay?"
As if on cue, Jinki lets out a quiet sigh that makes your heart drop. He doesn’t sound like the usual Jinki you know, and you immediately receive the answer to your question. Gathering your courage, you put a hand on his broad shoulder, and take the other to pull his hat off in order to take a closer look at him. You succeed without any restraint from the man. Then, you rub your hand on the fabric of his shirt, trying to give some sort of reassurance, for what, you don’t know yet, but you’re trying. You see Jinki’s eyes glint for a second, and suddenly a head thumps against your collarbone. Oh. Your hands stop moving, and his hat falls to the floor soundlessly.
Jinki sighs again, this time his warm breath fanning over your clothed shoulder, making you freeze even more. Your head is filled with nothing but the close distance you share with Jinki. His forehead presses firmly on your shoulder, the weight starts to feel heavy, so you stand tall, pushing against the man who’s significantly taller and larger than you, with your hands hanging awkwardly by your sides.
"...It's difficult." You hear him whisper.
You try to peek at him, but all you can see is his soft pink locks. It looks fluffy, despite the hat covering it before, if not slightly damp. Quietly, you inhale his scent, floral and musky but mostly covered by the smell of sweat. It must be from a dance practice. For some reason, you don’t mind it.
"I know my limits, and I've been doing this for years," he murmurs into your shoulders, voice weak and slightly muffled but you still can hear every word. "But it really doesn't get easier."
The words hang in the silent air, with no one speaking afterwards. Deciding to stay and listen, you let him there on your shoulder. Questions run through your head, along with many emotions you’ve never felt before for the man; pity, worry, adoration, and surprise, but you don't dare to speak or ask. Not in such vulnerability.
The next minute runs slowly, and the only thing you can hear in the empty cafe is you and Jinki’s breathing. You hope yours doesn’t sound too fast, but you try to ignore the self conscious thoughts for now.
Suddenly, Jinki tenses and pulls himself away, straightening his back that’s been hunching to reach your height. With his face bare from any makeup, you can see a light flush on his cheeks, and his ears are pink, adorably matching with the hair. He's devastatingly beautiful, and you can’t help but stare in awe. Still drowning in embarrassment, he doesn’t seem to notice.
"I'm very sorry," he whispers, formal all of a sudden, voice still close.
"It's okay." You pat his back with a smile, hoping to cease his groundless embarrassment. "You don't need to apologize, I don't mind."
Jinki looks at you for a moment, mouth parted and eyes expressing an emotion you don’t quite understand, then they turn to crescents as he smiles softly. 
"Really?" He asks, voice surprisingly even, a contrast to the state he was in before, and nimbly you nod. "Can I borrow your shoulder again, then?"
Oh. "Y-yeah." Your stomach does the twisty thing and when Jinki once again lays his head on your shoulder, you can hear your heartbeat going faster, thumping softly in your ears. For god's sake, you hope Jinki won't be able to hear or worse, feel them. Without a warning, Jinki shifts his head to the side, and--is he nuzzling? You swear that’s the tip of his nose touching your neck and now there’s puffs of air caressing your veins.
This is too much. It's your first time being this close with him, and it's not the best time to have physical reactions from this intimacy. Ignoring the shivers crawling on your skin, you will yourself to stay still, and even your breathing.
The two of you stay there. Again, you hear Jinki's breathing, then you hear your own. You’re not a physically affectionate person, but all you wish right now is to embrace him properly, to stroke his back and let him stay there for as long as he needs.
So you do that, you raise a hand to his head, caressing his pink tresses. Almost greedily, he leans into your touch, as if he's been waiting for it. With a fond sigh, you can't hold yourself from ruffling his hair further.
“You’ve worked hard.” 
Maybe those words won’t be enough, but you find no fault in trying.
You hear Jinki inhale sharply, then he exhales in resignation before pulling back. He’s now standing at his full height, and you have to raise your head to see him properly. Relief blossoms when you catch his calm expression. With that, you share a moment of comfortable silence, exchanging unsaid words through intangible mediums. Then, you pat his shoulder twice before moving away from his personal space.
“Sit down, I’ll make you tea,” you declare to the now panicking man, rustling to get the kettle. Jinki's face is glowing, despite the lack of makeup. He looks animated, tired, but breathtaking. It's almost like you're seeing him in a new light.
"I thought you're already closing up," he complains weakly, and you offer him an innocent smile, pulling one tea bag from the box.
The sound of a chair being pulled is your winning declaration.
"You don’t have to.”
"And you have to drink some tea. Chamomile can help you sleep better," you chide, bringing the cup to the table. As you sit down, you see him fiddling with his hands.
"So… How's your day?"
"Like usual," you shrug. "But less fun without you." His face lights up and you stifle a laugh. "I made an earl grey frappe, but it still needs something."
"A new drink? Can I try?"
You smile widely. "I'll make it for you next time."
"Make sure you don't put too much sugar in it," he winks, and it prompts a laugh from you. Jinki looks better now, more refreshed and light but you catch him zoning out a few times, his gaze seemingly focusing on your face, making you squirm internally.
"What?" You ask, noticing him staring at you again. And he just grins, showing off the adorable gummy smile.
"Nothing." And he's back to his tea. By the time he empties his glass, he offers to wash it by himself. You almost drag his hoodie to stop him, but you finally relent - he already rushes to the sink, that man - and lets him do what seems to be one of his ways to thank people. Relieved, you start to recognize his usual self once more, so you join him with a lighter heart.
You’re taking off your apron when you notice a solemn expression on his face.
“How are you getting home?” He asks.
"I take the bus from the main street, then I walk for a few blocks."
His face turns dark. "Every night?"
You blink at him, searching the issue. “Yeah.”
"Let me drive you home," he declares, walking to your side. "It's already late."
"It's not my first time going home this late, it's fine."
His eyebrows furrow. "No it's not." Much to your surprise he gently takes your hand in his, like he’s hesitant. After seeing no discomfort from your part, he squeezes. “Please, let me drive you home.”
You know you can’t say no, the sincere concern in his face melting your resistance. You simply nod, requesting a few minutes to turn off the lights and pack your bag. He complies before preparing to leave the store first.
"I park my car near the convenience store.”
"The one in the main street, right?" He affirms, and stops. Confused, you wait until he leans closer. He ruffles your hair, messing with it playfully. You yelp a complaint while he laughs, and suddenly, he puts his snapback on top of your head. 
With that, he leaves the store to prepare the car.
The gesture leaves you reeling, so you hold the cap to ground yourself. Belatedly, you realize this is going to be the first time you go out with Jinki outside of the comfort of your store. You know it’s nothing big, but it feels new, and exciting. And he’s going to drive you home, the gesture feels too intimate.
Arriving at the main street, you catch a sight of a black car parking near the convenience store. Right by its side is Jinki, waiting for you. He notices your form walking towards him and immediately opens the passenger door for you. Seeing you gawk, he grins.
“Come on,” he says, leading you closer with his hand on your lower back. The action makes you warm inside. You go inside the car wordlessly, and he joins in.
Maybe it's because of how late it is. Perhaps tea does have a good amount of caffeine. Regardless, the two of you are way too lively, especially after a long day of work. Jinki keeps playing random R&B songs and almost plays SHINee’s new song by accident, eliciting a gasp from the man and a delighted squeal from you. You keep telling him the directions, and the car strolls from amidst tall buildings to the residential area, where there are only smaller apartments and condos. He takes the final turn, and you excitedly point at one building, your apartment building. It’s a humble one, but you like how the location is far from dangerous areas of the city, and it’s neat. When Jinki finally parks the car, both of you whoop a drunk-like yaaay! while still laughing at each other.
Jinki gets out of the car first, humming sweetly, and you follow suit, the quietness of your neighborhood contrasts deeply with how loud it was inside the car. But it's a nice and welcomed contrast.
You skip to the staircase to the lobby, and you notice Jinki following you before he stops right before the first stair step. Turning towards him, you're not unfazed by the ever present smile on his handsome face. 
The high energy you both share simmers down, turning into a calm and light atmosphere. Surrounded by comfortable silence, you drink in the sight of him, a man that's shining so bright even in the middle of the night, on a sidewalk. However, the moment must come to an end.
"Thank you for driving me home."
"No," Jinki begins, looking straight at you with his dark eyes. "Thank you, (Y/n)."
"Don't mention it," you giggle. Realizing the item on your head, you take it off, offering it to him. "Your hat."
He waves it off. "Keep it until I see you again."
You only grip the snapback since it doesn't look like he's giving you another option. So you nod before taking a deep breath. "Alright then, good night." You exhale, disappointment creeps within your words, unnoticed.
"Wait."
You're about to turn towards the lobby to climb the stairs when his hand grabs yours and unceremoniously pulls you to him. There's a short moment of clarity and your five senses heighten, noticing his smell, his presence and—His lips press unto yours, soft and slightly chapped, you note in a daze. Warm rush of joy fills you, and you're about to return the kiss when he pulls back, the sight of him leaving you speechless. If he was glowing before, now he looks like the sun, all warm smiles and overwhelmingly bright. Even in the dark his pink hair paints an unreal picture. Catching you off guard, he leans in to plant another kiss, this time on your cheek, your disappointment is too apparent because he’s chuckling softly when he drags his lips to your ear.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers hotly, eliciting pleasant shivers down your spine. Leaning back, he waves innocently, gesturing at you to get into the building.  Speechless and flabbergasted, you give a small bow before practically running towards your apartment.
That night, you plop onto the bed feeling giddy like a teenager. Your mind wanders to Jinki, and Jinki only, from how he visited you tonight, how his breath feels against your skin, his laugh, his silly pink hair, and - the kiss. After a glance at his hat, which you hang near your bed side, you giggle into your pillow, looking forward to seeing the man tomorrow. 
Little do you know you're not going to see him again.
+++
Days pass.
The door to your cafe stays silent at 8 o'clock. There is no sight of a tall man in oversized clothes and mask, no sight of his sakura-colored hair. Ignoring the pang in your chest, you hope he's doing okay at work.
But days turn into weeks, and you know he won't be coming back. You hear news about SHINee's comeback, how successful it is and how all the members look mesmerizing and more handsome than ever. You also hear rumors about a certain man. The news say they spotted him a few times with a female, starting from them getting coffee together, to the more recent one, a picture in which the female had her hands in the crook of his elbow, both of them were smiling, clearly head over heels towards each other. People say they look good together, an idol and a famous actress. Even the fans are supportive of their presumed relationship, saying it's about time their oppa settles down with someone good enough for them.
That day, your heart breaks into pieces.
You drown yourself in work. The auntie from your regular bakery comes over to send you a variation of new cakes, asking about the customer behind regular orders of her traditional pastries. With a strained smile, you say he’s out of town, skillfully lying to the lady, and you don’t know when he will return - this time you’re telling the truth, bitter and a hard pill to swallow. The older lady pats your back, a sad look on her face, everything takes time, my dear, she says with a very knowing gaze. You swallow down a cry, unwilling to be seen so emotionally naked in front of her or anyone else, so you tell her you'll visit her tomorrow. Eunmi knows something's wrong. You hide emotions behind your cheerful self but she recognizes a broken hearted person anywhere, especially when it's her friend. So she takes you out to a pocha - a street vendor - near the neighborhood trying to wash away your pain with eo muk tang and soju. Having quite the high tolerance, you can't even drunkenly spill your secrets to her. But loosened up from alcohol, you tell her about your expectations and how it hurts you. You're grateful for her, nonetheless.
Weeks turn into months. The cold season melts into spring, a season too famous for blossoming love and all that bullshit. You never see him again, not on the news, not in person. He becomes a figment of your memory, a shadow that never fully comes into a tangible form that you can touch, or even gaze at. You toss and turn at night, trying to forget a man who managed to capture your heart, then breaks it mercilessly. You want to punish yourself for missing him, longing to hear his warm voice, his sweet laugh, and how happy he made you feel.
+++
It’s one of your bad days.
Granted, you haven’t been in your best state for months now, but you never let it bother your daily routine. Today, however, is just not your day. You wake up with a dreadful feeling in your stomach, like you’re walking on thin ice. So you wash it down with a cup of triple espresso, letting the caffeine induce faux energy in your veins.
Now you're in the bathroom of your cafe, glaring at your reflection in the mirror. You apply more lip tint and you discover it does improve your appearance, now you're less pale, much to your relief.
"With all due respect, (Y/n), you look like shit" was what Eunmi said to you before she left for her job. Grumbling, you give in and finally fix your appearance in the bathroom. Deeming yourself presentable - in fact, you look good, your hair's on point, you note with a grin - you leave the bathroom.
You see a figure standing in the middle of your cafe.
And he is awfully familiar.
Unbidden, a wave of anger hits you. Clenching your fist, you eye the man has been haunting your mind almost every single night. A shadow that somehow has taken his form, now.
"(Y/n)," he stammers. His voice is like a wake-up call, reviving a ghastly affection that you pushed down in your heart. You always like hearing your name on his tongue, luscious and teasing, but it never sounds this bleak.
Jinki looks different, the most apparent change is his hair, which is now dark brown, reminiscent of the first time you meet him. When was that again? Half a year ago? His fringe is slightly longer, a bit wavy and it fits him so well. Begrudgingly you admit his beauty did not fade, he's still as handsome as ever, if not more, and his cheekbones are more prominent, giving him a sharper appearance.
It's clear as day that he's somber, and the fact incites more anger on your part. Inhaling through your nose, you stomp back to your place behind the counter. From the corner of your eye you see his gaze following your movement.
"What would you like to order?" You ask, because even though you're heartbroken, you're a professional.
"I need to talk to you," he says. Of course he does. Nevertheless, you put on a charming smile before his guilt-stricken face.
"Your order, please."
He leans forward. "I'm sorry - " And that's the wrong answer, not when your day is already bad as it is, not when you feel so awful from the moment you wake up in your bed. Especially not after so many questions and non-existent answers on his behalf.
"If you're not buying anything, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave," you say through gritted teeth, your customer service mask slipping off.
After an excruciating silence, he ducks his head, biting his lips, like he needs to stop himself from speaking any further. Then slowly, he walks towards the door. At that point, you should feel triumphant. But the pang in your heart says otherwise as you see his hunched back, filled with disappointment. Before leaving, he turns one more time, looking at you in the eye with a gaze that squeezes your heart painfully.
"I'll come back to visit again."
You watch the empty store, breathing harshly. There's a storm of emotions going inside you, and nothing you do afterwards helps you calm down. You've never been this shaken before, not even when you first heard of Jinki dating on the news. That day, you thought of course, of course he would date the actress. Not someone he randomly kissed after a particularly rough day. Idols are unreachable for a reason. But his reappearance opens a Pandora's box, releasing the feelings you locked in so many months ago.
To make it worse, this time Jinki is not lying. Because the next morning, he's back, he's wearing a black turtleneck shirt paired with slacks and covered by a dark brown coat, looking dashing all while smiling hospitably as he orders a huge americano and a dozen pastries for dine-in. He sits in his usual corner, fiddling with his phone all the while throwing glances at you. It's easy to ignore him with the presence of other customers, but when it's only two of you, it's a whole different kind of challenge.
Surprisingly, the man doesn't attempt to talk to you, at all. Jinki just sits there, waiting. He nibbles on one snack to the other, and continues to wait. You can hear him receiving calls silently, trying to hush his voice, but you hear words like "I'm not coming" and "I'm sorry, but I already told you yesterday” which start to melt the ice that’s settling within you.
The sun is setting when you decide you can't stand it anymore. He's been eating nothing but pastries, he had ordered another glass of coffee and he. Just. Won't. Leave. Checking the time, it's been 9 hours, and you’ve waited long enough, way too long, to get the answers you’ve been asking for.
With dread clawing inside your stomach, you stand up and walk to his table. Jinki notices your presence and immediately perks up. You despise the glimmer of hope in those familiar brown eyes.
"Why are you here?" The tremble in your voice is evident, and you inwardly curse. Jinki, however, looks determined and stares back with a steely gaze.
"I want to talk to you," he states evenly.
"Right now? The store is still open."
The air on his face changes abruptly, and you almost step back, feeling his anger. After throwing you an unexpected sneer, he speed-walks to the door, grabbing your wooden sign and flipping it over from ‘open’ to ‘close’. You stammer a protest, but he's already in front you, looming over with his taller body.
"It's closed." Motivated by desperation, you know he will do anything to get what he wants. But internally you shake off the tingles of warmth you feel when seeing him this assertive. "Can we please talk now?"
You chew the insides of your cheek, biting off your frustration, because you know he got you cornered. With a sigh, you nod. You've listened to many people, many stories ranging from sorrow to joy, and you listen well, quiet and composed. Now, you're anything but. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eye, uncomfortable with the increasing tension in the air. He remains silent, and you feel more uneasy. When he finally speaks, you should’ve seen it coming.
"I'm sorry." You feel each word stabbing your chest. "I'm sorry for not coming back, I have my reasons so please let me explain first."
You inhale sharply. "You have a girlfriend."
"No, I - "
"You have a girlfriend. Why did you even kiss me?"
Hurt flashes on his face. "She's not my girlfriend. And I kissed you because I wanted to."
Anger rises in your veins.
"Everybody says it. It's all over the news." You hold the urge to sneer, to laugh at his attempt to lie. Jinki’s mouth opens and closes a few times, his hand flailing helplessly. Then, he holds a hand up.
"Give me a minute," he insists before opening up his phone. You're close to berating him for lack of manners but he suddenly holds the phone to you. You look up at him quizzically. He only nods, somber and knowing, so you take it.
You gasp, your stomach churns with dread.
On his phone screen is a picture of the two of you, clearly taken by someone who's not supposed to see it. It was from that night before he stopped visiting, and it has you and him on the main street, right before you enter his car. Your face is hidden by the cap he lent, but he is ushering you into the car with a hand on your lower back. Unlike your features, Jinki's are crystal clear. He’s not wearing anything to cover his face, and his pink hair is bright in the dark. From the proximity, it's obvious what it looks like.
"T-this is - "
"Paparazzi. We managed to prevent the worst case with the help of media insiders, but we still needed to do preventive measures.” At that moment, SHINee was about to start promoting a comeback, if it went wrong, it'd ruin everything. “So, one of my agents suggested I fake-dated another celebrity to cover it up."
Your eyes widen. He stops, and stares at you knowingly.
"I was under heavy scrutinization. The media had their eyes on each and every movement I made. They followed me everywhere." He ducks his head, chuckling with an uncharacteristic self pity in his voice.
"I couldn't visit you. It was too risky. So I waited, and played along with the plan. Thankfully, announcing the relationship was not necessary. The pictures and interactions were enough. In the end, all we had to do was deny the rumors, saying we're just friends who helped each other in her acting gigs. Furthermore, I don't think they managed to publish the original picture. If they did… Let's just say I wouldn't be here."
Silence stretches between the two of you. Your mind is still processing all the things he’d said, but you can feel the blooming hope within your heart, trying to tell you to listen and to give him a chance. 
Jinki inhales, chest expanding before letting out of his frustrations through a harsh exhale. Then, he moves forward, taking your hand with his hesitant ones, testing the waters. Staying still, you watch with anticipation and thundering heart as he pulls your hands up.
“I miss you. I miss this place. Being around you makes my worries disappear, as if the only thing that matters is the time we spend together. I've always enjoyed your company since I first visited this place by chance but…” he takes a deep breath, eyes boring straight into yours.
“I didn’t expect to fall for you." 
Your breath hitches, and he moves closer. Just an inch closer, testing the waters.
"Please, give me a chance. I didn’t mean to stop seeing you. To stop visiting for months, not being able to see your smile… It was a torture.”
With shallow breaths, the aftermath of your shock, you find yourself unable to say anything. Your head is light and dizzy - clouded with emotions after his revelation. He pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss that stills you even further. His eyes are solemn, filled with so much longing that suddenly becomes clear to you.
"Will you forgive me? Can I try again?”
Months of learning to forget and hate him melts away. There's something in your expression that makes Jinki's eyes soften. You miss that gentleness that brings so much life to the man, but most of all, you miss him. Just him. Letting instinct take over, you pull your hands away from his grasp as his face falls.
"You idiot," you murmur helplessly, moving forward only to punch his chest, albeit weakly, ignoring his protests as he stumbles back with a yelp. "I waited. I waited for you but you never came back, I thought you - you got bored of me or something."
"(Y/n), no - "
Something inside you snaps, and you let words come out like a waterfall.
"I like you a lot, Jinki. More than a lot. I-I think I'm falling for you too. I didn't know what to do when I saw the news. It made me feel so bad about myself. And you just kissed me too. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
He scratches the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.
"W-well, I don't have your number."
Unbidden, you choke out a strangled laugh, noticing the tears that's appearing in your eyes. With trembling fingers, you grab his shirt, hiding your face away in his chest. 
"I waited for you." You repeat, voice hoarse and weak.
With a tenderness you never felt before, he holds your face and frowns, regret paints his eyes darker. 
"I'm sorry, I'm here now."
"Is it even safe for you to be here?"
"It's been months, I'm out of their radar now, my team made sure of it."
"Stupid."
"I know, I know. I am stupid, I'm sorry."
"I missed you." You finally say, and in a second warmth engulfs your body as he pulls you into his arms. The scent that is undoubtedly Jinki, oh so familiar to you, comforts you almost instantly.
"I missed you, too." He says into your hair, and you return his embrace with a hiccup. "Are you crying? I'm so sorry."
You pull back, stubbornly trying to show him you are not crying but he just laughs - bright and warm, shit, you really missed it - cupping your face so tenderly it makes your cheeks burn. But something in your face makes him frown.
“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” Your eyes widen at the nickname and his face falls. "Um, is it okay if I call you that?"
"S-sure," You reassure him, secretly melting inside.
"Good. So, what's on your mind?" He inquires with a hint of worry. You bite your lips, thinking about a question that has been lingering in your mind.
“So that night, when you kissed me… It wasn’t a mistake?”
At that, a smug smile graces his plump lips. Gosh, you even miss this side of him, the one that takes enjoyment in flustering you.
“I never regret it."
Relief floods your heart, and it leaves blossoms of hope. So you look up at him, putting on a cute expression that hopefully melts him.
“Can you do it again?”
He chuckles, not showing any protest before leaning in to capture your lips.
“Gladly.”
+++
"Are you sure it's safe?"
"I parked the car at a market two blocks away from your cafe, I think we're okay, (Y/n),” he sighs, pushing your back for you to start walking. Due to someone’s reckless action, you closed the store hours before it’s closing time, and now you even get to go home early.
You laugh. "Fine."
There's a part of Jinki that will never agree to you going home by bus, hence why he's insistent on driving you home once again. With a lighter heart, you accept.
But contrasting the previous trip, the ride home is silent. You can hear the faint sound of keys jingling against the dashboard, and the constant clack of pedals being stepped on. You turn your gaze to the driver, the sight of his side profile greeting you. He's breathtaking, you think, the mole on his chin is beyond adorable, and all of a sudden, the man turns his face. He offers you a smile before patting your thighs - as if knowing that smile makes your legs weak - and within seconds his eyes are back on the road, leaving you flustered.
Jinki parks the car across your apartment building, bringing a deja vu to the whole situation. You open the door and step a foot outside, thinking of saying good night to Jinki there and then. But he doesn't share your thoughts, because he's already leaving the car, intending to see you to the lobby.
"Alright then," he says softly. "Good night, (Y/n)."
The insides of your stomach twists. You don’t want him to leave yet. Months passed without him in your life, and despite having brighter days ahead within the new relationship, a selfish part of you still wants to spend time with him, making up for the lost time. You don't know what pushes you forward that night, but you’re already pulling the cuff of his sleeves, fingers curling around the fabric.
Jinki turns around, confusion clear in his brown eyes. "Yes?" He's tilting his head, cute.
"Would you like to stay for dinner?" You blurt out and his eyes turn into saucers. "You haven't eaten a proper meal today. I can make something for both of us."
His surprise melts into a bright smile, his eyes crinkling with happiness. You see his ears turning red. "I'd love to."
You step into your home first, taking off your shoes and changing them to slippers. Gingerly, yet excited, you pull another pair of slippers to give to your guest. It’s a pair of white bunny slippers, with little ears as the decoration. You hope he doesn’t mind the design.
"Oh, thank you," he says, stifling a laugh at the object - rude - before ducking to follow your gesture. Then, he removes his coat, hanging it on the rack, revealing a set of broad shoulders and chest, the fabric of his low turtleneck shirt emphasizing the swell of his arms. You hang onto the sight for a little too long, and by the time you look away, Jinki already has a knowing smirk, amused at your dumbfounded expression. With a huff, you practically rush inside your home, ignoring him.
Without even looking, you know he's scanning your room. You're quite proud of it, because it may be small, but you made it as comfy as possible.  You don't have dining tables, instead you have island counters and high chairs. Gesturing Jinki to sit there, you excuse yourself to change into more comfortable clothes. As you're about to reach your room, Jinki calls your name. You turn to see him holding a familiar cap from your shelves.
"You kept it with you." He's grinning as he flails the hat, looking all giddy and adorable, and it's contagious.
"Of course, you told me to."
"That I did. But I didn't expect you to hold it after what happened."
He's not wrong. Many times you wanted to throw it away, since it's the only item you have that's left of him, the only string left of the frail connection you had with Jinki. But you couldn't, despite the bittersweet feeling that came from seeing the hat, sometimes you found comfort from it. 
As if sensing the deflated mood, he pushes the hat on your head playfully, pulling a laugh from you which halts when the back of his hand caresses your cheek, his eyes assessing you with intrigue. The same hand ends up on your shoulder, giving a light push.
"Go on, aren't you going to change?"
You scowl half-heartedly, trying to ignore the subtle suggestive tone in his voice.
Quickly, you go into your room to store the hat away and change into your usual attire at home, lounge shorts and a large t-shirt. You stride to the kitchen area and take a second to drink in the sight of Jinki in your kitchen. It’s real. The scene is so domestic you can feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 
"Does soybean soup sound good to you?" You ask, now standing in front of the island counter. You laugh internally realizing how similar this is to your usual dynamic at the café. "I have some pork dumplings too.”
Jinki blinks, then he looks at you from your head to toe with half hazed eyes. The way he’s drinking in your form triggers the heat pooling in your belly, especially when he stares at your thighs for a moment too long, and you can't help but squirm under his gaze. It's a truce, you suppose, for you've ogled at him as well. 
"That sounds lovely." His voice is quiet, eyes hazy like he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. "Can I do anything to help?"
Bless this man. "Then, can you chop the vegetables?"
"Sure." He gets up and walks to your side, already eyeing a cutting board that’s hanging near the sink. Meanwhile, you’re rummaging through the freezer, acquiring a bag of frozen pork and leek dumplings, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you're cooking together and it's so domestic, fuck - you move to the shelves, intending to get the soybean paste container up there. It's not that high, you swear, but you do need to tiptoe.
Then unexpectedly, a hand goes past yours to grab the container. Familiar scent tickles your nose and warmth seeps through your back, with that you know Jinki’s standing behind you.
Sheepish, you turn to thank him but stop when you realize how close he is. He's looking at you with hooded eyes, intense and filled with emotions you're familiar with, because perhaps, you're mirroring it. A rustling sound catches your attention, and you notice Jinki putting the container down to the counter. You can feel the top surface of the same counter digging into your hips, and belatedly you catch up with your situation, it almost feels like you're cornered.
Jinki puts his hand on the counter by the side of your torso. With the rolled sleeves, the muscle of his arms draws your attention once more, his bicep tensing as the hand presses on the surface. Now you're cornered by his strong arm, and he moves the other to your hair, fingers tickling your temples, dragging them slowly to move your fringe out of the way.
"Are you okay?" Asks Jinki, almost rhetorically, voice lower than you've ever heard in all the time you've known him. He smells like wood and a hint of something floral, and you start to feel intoxicated from it. He's moving closer, at first you can only hear his breath, but within seconds you can feel each puff of air on your skin.
You take note of your heartbeat that runs a mile, the way you breathe in shallow intakes, and the wild butterflies in your stomach. You notice how desperately you want him to touch you, kiss you, it's inappropriate. Then, the answer should be no, you're far from okay.
Instead, you gulp. "Yes," you rasp the answer and the corner of Jinki's mouth quirks up, devilish yet sweet.
"Good."
And then he's on you. His lips descend on yours, urgent and feverish, and you melt against him immediately. You know this is not the first time you kiss, but it wasn’t like this before, that one was short and sweet, you didn't think it could be this hot and intoxicating.
His hand cups your cheek, tilting your head to mold your mouth better, the gesture makes you weak and you let him guide you to his will, and by the time he succeeds, you're already gripping his shoulder for balance and support.
Jinki opens his mouth, pulling your lower lip in between his teeth, grazing and teasing it until you accidentally let out a whimper that causes him to inhale sharply. The noise fuels your need to be closer to him, so you kiss him back harder, trying to take any sort of control. But Jinki's not having it,  he puts his hand on your lower back, gripping them tight enough to make you gasp. He uses the opportunity to sneak his tongue past your swollen lips.
Overwhelmed by him, you push your own appendage against his, meeting it shyly. He groans, voice rumbling low like never before and it goes straight into your core. Your lips dance together in a sensual rhythm as the temperature between you seems to increase. Eventually, you grow more breathless, and pull back. He follows suit, detaching your mouth but keeping you close to him. Like tunnel vision, you can only focus on the man who has you in his arms.
Jinki touches your forehead with his, which feels really warm. His whole body radiates heat, like a furnace, and you want the warmth to engulf you more. Pulling back, he cups your face tenderly, calloused thumb rubbing your cheek carefully, as if too much pressure will break you into pieces. You won’t break, but the weight of his gaze does cause you to squirm. Feeling self conscious, you bring a hand up to your face, attempting to hide your disheveled self only to have Jinki tut at the action.
"You always do that." With his large hands, he pries your smaller ones away, showing your flushed face for his delight. He smiles in awe, and you can’t look away.
"You're so beautiful." He whispers.
Elated by the compliment, you mirror his smile before pressing a chaste kiss to his full lips. The harmless peck turns into another heated kiss in no time, with you pressing yourself against him and him parting his irresistible mouth to welcome yours excitedly. Abruptly, he retreats again, chuckling nervously as he puts his hands on your shoulders.
"I’m sorry.” He sounds strained. “If we keep doing this, I won’t be able to stop.”
Again you’re reminded of how much of a gentleman Jinki is, how proper and patient he is. But you had enough. With a ridiculous amount of desperation coming from the ever-growing tension in the air between you two, you muster all of your courage. "Then don't."
With eyes as big as saucers, Jinki is about to say something when you take the chance to grab his arm and lead him to the couch in the middle of your room. You're in no rush, you know he knows what you want, and he's following your lead soundlessly. You sit down, he follows suit and you notice the way he takes no time to turn to you, cupping your face as you lean into the palm of his large hand. Despite the gentleness of his touch, you can see the storm in his eyes and how it waits to crash unto you. 
So you end his uncertainty.
"Don't stop." You whisper before leaning in, capturing his lips in a languid kiss. He reciprocates, returning the favor eagerly while his hand wanders on your exposed thighs, the skin to skin contact bringing shivers to your spine. It doesn't take long until your frenzied self shifts closer to him, ending up sitting in his lap, and his lips have left yours in order to explore the skin of your neck. He parts his mouth and starts sucking on your skin, exposed by the large t-shirt. You breathe shakily, positively quivering in his hold. Never would you know the usually calm man can turn you into a molten heat under his touch. 
Wanting to feel more of Jinki, your hand wanders from his chest to his abdomen and lower to his thighs, eliciting a hiss from him. Mesmerized by his reaction, you crave more, so you shift in his lap, moving in a way that will make your thighs brush against the hardness between his legs.
"Oh god," he moans out loud, voice gravelly but still melodic to your ears, it brings a proud grin to your face, provoking his eyes to turn dark. He tuts. "Don't get ahead of yourself, sweetheart."
The endearment alone sends a familiar wetness straight to your core. He smiles, knowing exactly what he does.
"May I?"
You nod, and suddenly his hand is on your inner thigh, dancing dangerously close to your center, and your breath hitches, knowing how wet you are by now. His other hand travels to your back, sneaking under your shirt to rub circles there, fingers brushing with the back of your bra repeatedly, the sensations make you whimper and the satisfaction on Jinki's face only brings more excitement in your veins. You almost let out a moan, biting your lip when you feel his finger pressing on your core through the pants.
"What was that?" He hums, putting more pressure.
"Don't tease me," you manage out, holding his upper arm with a trembling hand. Your last sliver of pride seems to fire a challenge within him, so you curse out loud when he easily pulls your pants down along with your panties, leaving you exposed. He rubs your thighs appreciatively, making you whimper.
"Jinki, please…"
The way his name sounds on your tongue right now must be so erotic, because you can feel his erection twitch in response. He hums, leaning in to ghost his lips over yours.
"What do you want, sweetheart?"
"Please touch me." Your voice comes out in a breathy whisper.
Deceptively calm, he slowly spreads your legs, putting one foot on the couch and the other dangling on his strong thigh, and drags his thick finger on your slit. That first contact alone pulls a moan out of you causing him to sigh with appreciation.
"You're so wet for me, aren't you?"
"Don't say that - "
He gives you a crooked smile. "What? It's true, you're soaked."
It's not a secret that he enjoys teasing you until you lose your composure, but this time he's driving you crazy, and you know he's reveling in it. Losing control, you gasp as you feel a touch on your clit before his finger enters you easily. You bite your lip, closing your eyes as the glorious sensation takes you by surprise, and you lean forward to hide your face in the crook of Jinki's neck. He whispers sweet words, his other hand holds you tightly as the other keeps fingering you. Then, he pulls your body away, raising your chin, his eyes meet your questioning ones. Your answer arrives when another finger pushes into your wet cavern, making you keen. "A-ah - "
"Is that okay?"
The consideration doesn't go unnoticed. You nod, and he pulls you closer for a kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible. It's messy, you keep moaning into his lips, leaning back to pant as Jinki picks up speed, you have to hold a scream when he goes deeper, and crooks his fingers to a spot that rocks your body into a quivering mess.
Your control breaks when he rubs your clit with his thumb, feeling the pleasure building, and you can't stop the euphoric moans coming out of your mouth. Jinki stares at you with wonder in his eyes, appreciating your form as you gasp and pant his name so beautifully.
"Are you close?"
Feeling the intense heat coiling in your lower abdomen, you can only nod, but he persists, taking your chin rather forcefully you almost feel ashamed of how much you like it. His usually warm brown eyes are like molten lava, burning with desire and it lights you up in flame.
"No, tell me, are you close?" He demands with a harsh swipe on your clit and you arch your back in intense pleasure. You clench harder on his fingers, struggling to find words to answer him.
"Please, I'm so close - ah," You haven't finished your words when his hand increases the speed, going deep to rub your inner walls all without warning. You are in a sweet delirium, not caring of anything else at the moment. Your breaths are shallow, chest heaving up and down as your orgasm is teetering very closely.
Knowingly, Jinki looks into your eyes, hunger visible in the depths of brown. But his words are soft. 
"Cum for me, sweetheart."
With a high pitched moan, you let your climax crash into you, pussy walls clenching around his fingers that have been fucking you for a while now. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent that starts to mix with sweat. It calms you, so you breathe in more, still panting from your orgasm.
"Good girl," he murmurs into your hair, peppering kisses on the crown of your head, and you respond with a strained laugh.
"Oh my god, you're insane."
He joins in, ruffling your hair playfully. Looking back up, you see him staring at you with equal parts adoration and lust and the huge hardness underneath you calls your attention.
"Hey, what's wrong?" His voice is strained yet gentle, slightly concerned with the sudden silence. You look down, and he immediately knows what you're thinking.
"(Y/n), we don't have to - "
"Jinki, I want you." You lean closer, brushing your lips against his alluringly, silencing him. "I told you not to stop. Don't you want me?"
He swallows, control slipping.
"I want you so bad." He whispers, voice strained. He's devouring you with his gaze, hands cupping your face possessively. Intending to push him to his limits, you take his hand and slowly kiss each finger, pressing light pecks on the callused skin. You start sucking on his thumb, and he curses before eagerly pushing the thick finger in your wet mouth, pressing against your tongue. He's a storm about to explode, and you know it.
"Shit, I want you all for myself," Jinki grits out. He grabs your waist roughly, making you gasp around his thumb, before he pulls it out. "I want you begging me to let you cum, like you did just now."
You moan at his words, unconsciously rolling your hips to his, which pulls a pained groan from him. At that moment, you know he can't resist you anymore.
"Do you want it, sweetheart? Are you sure?" He finally asks, and you nod, eyes determined and rightfully desperate. You're a wet mess and you want nothing but to have Jinki inside of you. No longer wanting to wait, you finally go for his ear, whispering your one and only wish for the night.
"Please fuck me, Jinki. Make me yours."
He inhales sharply. With shallow breaths, he tugs you closer, kissing you deeply before shifting you in his arms. You yelp as he picks you up easily and starts walking towards your bedroom.
"There's no way we're doing it on a couch." He winks before dropping you on the bed while your squeal fills in the room.
As if there's a switch, the laughing subsides. With one glance at the man before you, you can only focus on one thing. You rush to pull off Jinki's shirt, and you marvel at his body and all the defined muscles. Taking a little too much time ogling him, Jinki chuckles, but you can hear the slight nervousness, and goes ahead to unbuckle his belt. The action jolts you back into reality, so you help him to remove the offending fabric.
Your hands are trembling, but Jinki's too, and you find comfort from it as you fumble around, too excited to care about anything else in the world.
Growing impatient, you capture his lips again which he responds to eagerly. God, his lips are soft. Your hand goes south to palm him through his briefs, trying to stimulate him more. With a muffled moan, he asserts his strength and takes your hand before flipping your position and resuming the kiss. Trapped under his strong body, you let yours go pliant as his hands explore it greedily.
He all but rips your oversized shirt before pushing you back down on your bed. Satisfied and not being able to hold himself back anymore, he cups your breast through your bra, making you gasp, and he quickly removes it before going straight to tweak a pebbled nipple. Sighing in pleasure, you move your hips upwards, needing some friction. Jinki notices it and smirks.
"Impatient, aren't we?"
Perhaps you should feel more ashamed for your wanton, but there's no remorse, only a painful need for the man before you. Who you’ve waited for so long.
You let out a whine. "Please?"
"Please what?"
"I want you inside me - oh!"
Without a warning, Jinki pushes in two fingers into your heat, the earlier wetness and your own release help in slicking his fingers.
"Like this, sweetheart?" He asks, clearly teasing you, playing with your bundle of nerves, your noises encouraging him to arouse your body further.
"Jinki, please…" You all but beg, hands reaching to touch his body, down to his cock, still in the briefs, trying to send an obvious message to your lover.
With a smile, he pulls out his fingers. Like the patient person he is, he takes his time to take off his briefs, finally freeing his hard cock. You can't help but feel intimidated by his size. Deceptively slow, he strokes himself while peering down at you, enjoying the fucked out look in your eyes and leaving you almost drooling at the sight he provides.
"God, I want you so bad," he grunts. "You don't know how long I've wanted this."
"It wouldn't take too long if you hadn't left," you whine instantly, making him pout.
"I'm going to make it up to you, okay, sweetheart?" He leans in, peppering kisses on your cheeks while slowly pulling your legs open. “We have all the time now.” You marvel at his gaze, loving and all heat at the same time. After wetting his cock with all your essence, he finally starts pushing in, tensing your whole body.
"Relax," he says, caressing your thighs softly and you nod, letting him push himself inch by inch. God, he's huge and he's stretching you so well.
"More," you whimper and he knows you're growing impatient as well, in one swift motion, he pushes all the way in and makes you moan in pleasure. You can feel his girth around your walls, and you clench unconsciously.
"Shit (Y/n), don't do that." He pulls back while chuckling, the tip of his cock almost leaving your core. "Let me make you feel good first."
You nod weakly, about to say something, anything but get cut off when he pushes in again, this time deeper.
"Jinki," you moan as he replies with a quiet "Okay?" To which you nod.
And he does. He slides in again, and again, and you can't even form words to save your life. His cock feels amazing, fucking you like there's no tomorrow. You pull him closer by the neck, kissing him hard and sloppy. Taking advantage of your muffled mouth, Jinki wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you up slightly and making your legs wrap around him before he starts pounding into you relentlessly. He swallows your euphoric screams, only pulling away to enjoy your expression, basking in pleasure.
As soon as his cock hits your pleasurable spot, you gasp out and clench hard, earning a guttural moan from him. "Jinki, I'm - "
"You're close, aren't you sweetheart? Are you going to cum for me again?"
"Yes! Please - oh my god," you ramble before your words turn into a high pitched moan as you feel Jinki's fingers playing with your clit. You're so close, the second orgasm already creeping up to you, more intense than the first. 
"You were so beautiful when you cum earlier, will you show it to me again?" He offers a sweet smile, contrasting the way he's pounding into your pussy and you only whimper in answer. He pinches your engorged bundle of nerves, expression turning dark.
"Answer me, can you, sweetheart?"
"Yes!" You gasp out, the stimulation jolts fire within you. "Yes, only for you Jinki."
With a particularly harsh thrust, you choke a gasp before a wave of pleasure hits you. You can feel yourself clenching uncontrollably, legs shaking as Jinki pulls you closer, pressing a kiss on your temple.
"Good girl, my good girl," he rambles, chasing his own high desperately. Dropping his head into the crook of your neck, he gives one last push before groaning in release, spilling his essence inside you. You sigh with content, running your fingers in his soft brown locks. After a moment, he leaves your neck, craning his head up before smiling broadly, the post-coital glow so apparent on his face. You grin, pressing a kiss on his nose, which makes him laugh.
"Hang on," he murmurs, pulling out of you before plopping down on your side. "Hi."
"Hi," you respond, moving to his arms, grinning and giddy from your own high. He wraps his arms around you, pressing his cheeks into the skin of your neck.
"Still up to cook?" He asks, and you realize all the cooking supplies you've prepared in the kitchen. You get up, but he stops you. "Let's just order a takeout. I'll help you clean out the kitchen."
You sigh. "Fine."
"You can cook breakfast tomorrow."
You blink owlishly, which gets a sheepish smile in return.
"Can I stay over?"
A large smile blossoms on your face. "Of course."
“Give me a second then.” He begrudgingly gets up, looking slightly lost for a moment before finding his phone. The sight amuses you so much you don’t realize Jinki pouting as he makes a call.
"I won't be coming back tonight," Jinki says to the phone before a loud shouting blasts from the device. He laughs, looking behind to catch your gaze before smiling wide. "Sure, I'll introduce her later to you."
"Wha - Taemin?" A scoff. "You two have fun, then."
Finishing the call, he crawls back to your embrace in the bed, making you giggle. Jinki hums with contentment before nudging you back, wishing to see your face. You don't know what he sees, but his smile turns softer, and he really looks like the sun.
"You're insane." he half-whispers, and you laugh, boisterous and too giddy. You decide to tease him.
"But you haven't seen nothing yet."
His lips quirk into a devious grin. "Is that a challenge?"
You only smirk in reply, which encourages Jinki to lean up and try to kiss you, but something comes to your mind so you push yourself off him.
"Wait here, we need to clean up." Ignoring his disappointed look, you stand up and start to walk away. Suddenly, you hear a loud rumbling noise. When you see Jinki, he already has a hand on his stomach with only a mild surprise, like he knows it will happen sooner or later. You huff.
"And you need to eat."
He laughs, following suit only to wrap his hands around your waist, seemingly unable to detach himself from you for too long. You grumble, attempting to wrestle away from him. But he's stronger, and holds you so you're looking at him. With a voice as warm and sweet as his favorite drink, he murmurs.
"Just one more kiss, sweetheart, then dinner."
The nickname works like a charm. Albeit having disbelief in his self-control - and yours too, to be frank - you give in, relaxing your body and accepting his lips on yours again, thankful that he returns, excited for the days you'll spend together with him in your life.
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