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incognit0slut · 13 days

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Behind Closed Doors 2

Part one

You welcome Spencer back to the team with a special gesture of your own—and find yourself falling even harder for him after he opens up to you.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) sub older spence my beloved, handjob, oral (m), spit kink?, semi-public (they are FREAKY), and idk if we can call this angst but we get to know how he feels about returning to work ~3.9k words

A/n: I didn’t plan for a part two, but rewriting scenes with specific looks of him is growing on me. Also, this happens before Emily tells him to teach seminars on his leave. And tell me what you think!!

He looked good in pink.

That was an understatement, the man looked good in pretty much anything. But today? Something was different. Something looked different. His whole appearance seemed to be on point than usual. You noticed his typically tousled hair was styled and swept back, which was a very rare sight, and it was hard for you to look away.

“…as you have obviously heard, Dr. Spencer Reid has been fully reinstated,” Emily announced, snapping you back to reality. “Welcome back, Spence.”

“Whoo-hoo! Yes!” Penelope cheered, only to be met by Emily’s pointed look. “That’s not the end, is it?”

Your boss shook your head and then proceeded to continue with another announcement. You stole a glance towards him again.

Maybe it was just really his shirt that made him look good? It wasn't even overly tight, but snug enough to accentuate the lines of his broad shoulders. Has his shoulders always been that wide? Now that you think about it, he did seem to be putting on a little weight. Not that it was a bad thing, and not that you didn't like how he looked before, but you couldn't help noticing how he filled out his shirt, and for some reason, it was doing something to you.

Probably more than something because now you wondered what other places he filled out.

A sudden round of applause filled the room, and you joined in, tearing your gaze away from him only to find Matt Simmons grinning at you. You looked away and followed everyone as they shuffled around the room, making sure to sit as far away from Spencer as possible, although luck wasn't on your side when Matt settled into the seat beside you.

"You don't seem too thrilled about me joining the team," he murmured, leaning in close.

“What do you mean? I’m always open to new faces around here.”

“Not as excited as having an old member back, though,” Matt remarked, prompting you to snap your head at him, a slight frown forming on your face. He winked teasingly, and you groaned, shoving his shoulder away.

“Ugh, do not wink at me.”

His laughter filled the air, but it quickly faded as the atmosphere in the room turned serious. Penelope began briefing everyone on the new case, and you did your best to mask your grimace every time a gruesome picture flashed on the screen. By the time Emily called out, “Wheels up in thirty,” you rose from your seat.

To talk to him or not talk to him?

You weighed the pros and cons, sneaking a quick glance at Spencer, who was deeply absorbed in studying the case files. The logical part of your brain told you it wasn't the best time to strike up a conversation, especially with only thirty minutes left until you had to leave. But there was something about him, it felt almost instinctual, like you were naturally drawn to him, and like a magnetic force, you couldn't resist.

Oh, fuck it—you decided to approach him.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you made your way over to where he was sitting, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

"Hi.”

"Hey," he greeted, looking up with a small smile at the corners of his lips. "What's up?"

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

"Sure," Spencer replied, his expression curious yet amused. He set aside the files he had been studying and turned his attention fully to you.

“In private?”

There was a brief pause, and you swore you could practically cut the tension with a knife. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he rose from his seat, his gaze never wavering from yours. You tilted your head back to look at him as his presence seemed to fill the room,and you couldn't help but hold your breath as you waited for his response.

“Of course,” he finally agreed, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he turned, leading the way to a more secluded spot, past the bullpen, past the glass doors, and down the hallway.

Once you were both out of earshot, he leaned in. “How private are we talking about?”

You nudged his side before guiding him towards the nearest office. As you stepped inside, your heart pounded in your chest, and you quickly glanced around the room to make sure it was empty. When you confirmed it was unoccupied, you turned back to see Spencer closing the door behind him.

Then everything snapped.

You weren't sure who made the first move, whether it was you or both of you acting on instinct, but before you could process it, his lips were on yours, his arms pulling you close, tongue colliding with your own. You gasped at his eagerness and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you pressed yourself against him.

With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you pushed him against the nearest wall, your hands tangling in his hair as his hands found their way to your ass, squeezing lightly. A soft moan escaped your lips and he responded by deepening the kiss further. It felt like time stood still as you lost yourself in the heat of his mouth against yours, until you finally pulled back, your lips brushing against his jaw.

“What…” He gasped when your mouth trailed lower. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned into his neck, his scent filling your senses. Why did he have to smell so good? “I think it’s your hair.”

“My… hair?”

You pulled back slightly, your fingers tracing along the collar of his shirt, your eyes roaming over the exposed skin of his chest where the top buttons were left undone. “Or maybe it’s the shirt.”

“My shirt?”

“Yes!” You half-exclaimed, half-whispered, trying to keep your voice down. “I think I’m ovulating and you’re not helping.”

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, a flush creeping up his neck as he processed your words. "Oh," he managed to say. “I didn't expect that.”

"Sorry," you apologized, feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to—”

But before you could say anything else, his expression softened, and his grip on your hips tightened. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured you. “It’s common for women to experience changes in their hormones during ovulation. It's completely natural and nothing to be embarrassed about."

You looked up at him, your hands sliding down his chest. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just your body doing its thing,” he said reassuringly. "And honestly, it's kind of flattering to know that... I have that effect on you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your palms drifted lower. “What else do you know about this stuff?”

“Well, around the time of ovulation, a woman's body produces more estrogen, which can increase libido—”

His breath hitched when his eyes fell on your hand resting over his pants.

“What?” you prompted, a playful glint in your eye. “Why did you stop?”

Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly as he met your gaze. "I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I was just going to mention that… increased estrogen levels during ovulation can also lead to heightened sensitivity in erogenous zones—”

But his words trailed off into a sigh as you palmed his arousal over his pants, feeling the hardness beneath your touch. He was undeniably aroused, and the way he responded to your touch only fueled you even more. With a mischievous grin, you ran your palm up and down his length, feeling him throb in response before letting out a playful giggle.

You didn’t realize it would be this fun to be the one doing the teasing.

“Tell me more, Spence.”

He swallowed hard before managing to speak. "W-Well,” he stammered. "Increased estrogen levels can also... enhance blood flow to certain areas, leading to heightened sensitivity and... uh, increased pleasure—”

But before he could finish his sentence, you applied a little more pressure, causing him to let out a low groan of pleasure. His words faltered, his focus shifting entirely to the delicious sensation of your hand stroking him. Your eyes traveled down, watching the way his cock pressed against the fabric of his pants, noting how thick and hard he was.

But as your gaze lingered, you caught sight of the time on your watch, and reality came crashing back in. You reluctantly pulled your hand away from him, and Spencer blinked at your sudden withdrawal, his desire-clouded mind trying to focus on you.

“What's wrong?” He whispered. “Why did you stop?”

“I… I kind of got carried away, I’m sorry," you noted. "We should probably get back before they start to wonder where we are."

He went still, and so did you. The room’s air conditioner hummed softly, filling the silence as you both simply stared at each other. When he didn’t respond, you slowly backed away and moved toward the door, but his grip on your arm stopped you. You turned towards him, eyebrows raised while he seemed to hesitate to say the next words.

After a moment, he sighed, his gaze softening as he finally found the words he was looking for.

“The other day, after we… you know,” he emphasized, and you nodded, urging him to continue. “I had to deal with this myself.”

His eyes flicked over the bulge in his pants and you stifled a laugh, amused at his sudden fluster. “Yeah, you said you were going to ignore it.”

“I didn’t,” he replied. “I couldn’t.”

“And?”

“And…” he hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before meeting yours again.

There was a moment of silence until you realized what he was implying. You gasped, the hand he wasn’t holding covering your mouth in shock. “Here?” you asked in disbelief. “At work?”

His cheeks flushed, but he nodded sheepishly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “In the bathroom.”

“Spencer,” you exclaimed in a hushed tone, “That’s...”

“I know, I know,” he cut in, his tone self-deprecating. “But in my defense, it was all your fault.”

You giggled. “Me? I barely touched you!”

"Exactly, but it was enough to drive me crazy,” he said, and when he saw you laughing, he gave you a deadpanned look. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh come on, it kind of is.” You shook your head in amusement. “Why are you telling me this?”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Because I don’t want to leave this room and deal with it by myself again.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Is this your way of asking me to touch you?”

His eyes widened almost cartoonishly wide, the flush creeping up his cheeks contrasting against the paleness of his skin, making his reaction all the more apparent.

“Please?”

You couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. “Spencer, we only have…” You glanced over your watch. “Fifteen minutes left.”

“I can probably finish in five.”

You bit your bottom lip. How did you end up in this predicament all over again? Although this time, you felt like you had the upper hand, and somehow, it was strangely exciting to see him so affected, to have him practically begging for your touch when you were supposed to be in a hurry.

He looked at you expectantly. How could you say no when his eyes were wide and pleading?

“You know what?” You turned to him fully, taking a step forward. “I think you deserve it. It’s your first day back, after all.”

Before you could second guess yourself, you reached for him again. His breath hitched slightly as you undid his belt and slowly lowered the zipper of his pants. His arousal strained against the fabric and you briefly met his gaze. Without a word, you slid your hand inside his pants, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

He felt full in your hand and painfully hard. When his response was nothing but his ragged breathing, you reached for the waistband of his briefs with your other hand, pulling down slightly until his cock was freed from its confines.

“Spence, you’re so…” Your voice trailed off, eyes fixated on him. The tip was thick and bulbous, a deeper shade than the shaft where pulsing veins ran up the long length. You were mesmerized by his size; it wasn’t too big nor too small, just perfect.

“You’re so pretty.”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he looked back at you. “You think so?”

You nodded, feeling the heat and the weight of him in your grasp. A droplet of wetness glistened on the tip, and unable to resist, your thumb brushed along it, earning a sharp intake of breath from him as his hips instinctively bucked against your touch. With a newfound confidence, you wrapped your hand around him, feeling his hardness pulsating against your palm.

The skin was soft as you’d expected, warm to the touch, but his length was stiff and throbbing when you squeezed. If you stayed still, you were sure you could count his heartbeat. As your hand moved up and down tentatively, trying to take in every detail of his member, you couldn’t believe you were finally feeling each vein that bulged up his shaft.

“Do you mind if I spit on it?”

He let out a low groan, his head falling back against the wall. “No.”

“Really? Coming from someone who’s germaphobic?” You smiled amusedly. "I thought you'd be more concerned about hygiene."

"I'll make an exception for this."

You couldn't help but laugh at his response. Trusting your instincts, you craned your neck down and let the liquid spill from your mouth, coating his tip in a steady flow. Your saliva glistened in the light, slowly trickling down the length of his cock. Then you began to stroke him gently, you felt him respond eagerly, his breaths growing heavier and his hips rocking gently against your hand.

His head fell back against the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “God, that feels…”

Feeling a surge of pride at his reaction, you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Is this how you touched yourself in the bathroom?”

He swallowed hard, his breath hitching as he met your gaze.

“Were you thinking of me?” You pressed on. “Did you imagine me touching you like this?”

His response was barely a whisper, but you caught it. “Yes…”

His breath was warm against your face, and you looked up, taking in the way he was looking at you through half-lidded eyes, lips parted as soft moans slipped out of his mouth. Who would’ve thought he made the prettiest sounds? You knew he was trying to keep his voice down, but the sight of him struggling to suppress his pleasure only made it more thrilling.

“Or did you imagine me getting on my knees, taking you in my mouth?” you teased, your voice low and sultry as you traced your tongue along your bottom lip. “Did you picture yourself deep inside of me, how tight and wet I would be?”

His forehead dipped until it was resting against yours, breaking the self-control he was desperately trying to maintain. “Oh god—I-I can’t hold it any longer.”

Your response was simply to increase your speed, your fist moving in fast short strokes up his leaking cock. He was slick with arousal, and you focused your attention on the sensitive tip, prompting even louder sounds of pleasure from him.

“Wait—" he gripped your wrist, forcing you to stop. “I’m so close.”

You frowned, watching the conflict play out in his expression. "I thought you wanted this?"

“I know, it’s just—“ His brows furrowed, a hint of desperation in his eyes as he struggled to maintain control. Then, with a defeated sigh, he admitted, “I don’t want to make a mess.”

You scanned the room, your mind racing for a solution. The office offered no privacy, and there was nothing around to help clean up the mess he would definitely make, so you needed a different approach.

Without hesitation, you got down on your knees.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re gonna—” he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Shh,” you hushed, lightly hitting his thigh. “Just help me hold my hair up.”

He hesitated for a moment, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable. Slowly, he reached out, gathering your hair in his hands. You felt the warmth of his fingers against your scalp, his touch gentle yet firm. You leaned in, your mouth hovering just inches from his swollen tip as you glanced up, meeting his eyes one last time before you took him into your mouth.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you could feel every twitch and throb as you wrapped your lips around him. His grip on your hair tightened, a guttural moan escaping his lips, your tongue swirling around his tip, tasting the salty bead of arousal that had formed there. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you took him deeper, jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth while wrapping your hand around what was left.

You moved slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth. It didn’t take long until your mouth was working in tandem with your hand, creating a rhythm that had his body shaking. The room was quickly filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing and soft moans, and you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. There you were, hiding behind an empty office with the potential of getting caught.

But you didn’t care, nor did Spencer, as he held your hair and bucked his hips into your mouth. You could feel the tension building in him, his breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. He was so, so close, and you wanted to push him over the edge. You quickened your pace, your mouth moving up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to create a tighter seal.

His moans grew louder, and you could tell he was struggling to keep quiet. “Please,” he whined, his voice strained. “I-I’m gonna…”

A choked gasp cut off his words as he reached his climax, his release hitting the back of your throat in hot, pulsing waves. You swallowed him down, savoring the taste of him, the warmth spreading through you as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression was one of pure ecstasy, mixed with a hint of disbelief and awe.

As he slowly came down from his high, his grip on your hair loosened, and he gently helped you to your feet. "That was..." he trailed off, still catching his breath. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I think you deserved it,” you said before pointing a finger at him. “But we can’t keep doing this at work.”

He looked at you, amusement and disbelief dancing in his eyes as he adjusted his clothes. You could almost read his thoughts: you were the one who initiated this, not once, but twice. The first time might have been out of panic, but this time, it was all you.

“I’m serious,” you said, crossing your arms to emphasize your point. “Now that you’re back, we should keep a certain distance between us. No more sneaking around.”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile curling at the corners of his mouth. But then you watched as his expression suddenly shifted, as if he remembered something and his smile turned into a frown followed by the furrow of his eyebrows.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He glanced at you, his hands sinking into the front pockets of his slacks. “I haven’t told this to anyone but… there’s a condition to my reinstatement.”

“What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “For every hundred days that I spend on the field, I’m required to take thirty days off.”

You blinked, processing the information. “Wait, what? So you’re not fully back?”

“Technically I am, just not how I want it to be.”

You watched as his shoulders slightly fell. “You’re not happy about this, are you?”

“What am I supposed to do on my days off? A whole month of sitting around in my apartment doing nothing?”

You took a step closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “You’re not going to be sitting around doing nothing. Think of it as an opportunity. You can catch up on your reading, maybe even take a trip somewhere.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the same. I want to be out there, doing my job, helping people. It’s what I’m good at.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But you can’t give your best if you’re burnt out. These breaks could help you recharge, keep you sharp.”

He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I just feel like I’m being benched, like they don’t trust me fully.”

You tugged his arm, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Hey, they trust you. This is about keeping you safe. After everything you went through… Spence, you deserve this break. They just want to make sure you’re at your best every time you’re back in the field.”

When he didn’t seem to fully absorb your words, you pressed on.

“Think about it, you have so many options. You could pick up a new hobby, spend more time with your mom... or finally visit those places you’ve always talked about. Like that museum you mentioned before, what was it called again?”

His gaze softened as he listened to your suggestions. "The Smithsonian," he replied after a moment, a small smile playing on his lips. “I've always wanted to spend a whole day there without rushing.”

"Exactly! Now you'll have the time to do that."

He nodded slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "I guess you're right.”

“See? It’s all about perspective.”

His lips curved into a smile as you both fell into silence. Then, he studied you, his eyes scanning your features as if trying to decipher the thoughts swirling in your mind through the subtle shifts of your expression.

“Will you come with me?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected question.

“You want me to come with you to the museum?”

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice soft, almost quiet. "Will you?"

It was a simple question, but it held a weight that you couldn't ignore. You had spent plenty of time together, grabbing lunch, chatting at the coffee shop down the road. But this felt… different. More personal. More intimate.

And suddenly it came crashing to you. You were so absorbed in what was happening between you, the stolen kisses, the physical attraction, that you didn’t realize your friendship was never going to be the same again.

On one hand, the idea of spending more time alone with him was undeniably tempting, but the rational part of you wasn’t sure if it was the wisest thing to do. He was your friend, a good one at that, and getting emotionally involved with friends could either strengthen or strain the relationship.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you searched for the right words. But before you could answer him, both of your phones vibrated with a notification. You both looked at your own devices and read the message.

“We’re leaving now,” Spencer announced, shoving back his phone in his pocket. “We should go.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer before you turned towards him. “You know what? You should head out first. I need some time to myself.”

He furrowed his brows slightly. You could tell he wanted to ask more questions, but he didn’t press on. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you replied. “Just give me a minute and I’ll follow behind.”

His eyes lingered on you for another second before he nodded, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “Sure, I’ll save a seat for you.”

You returned his smile, though it felt more like a grimace as you watched him exit the room. The click of the door closing behind him seemed to echo in the sudden silence, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts as the rush of emotions flooded over you. It felt as if you were standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to leap or retreat.

With a deep breath, you pressed a hand to your chest, trying to calm the fluttering inside. But the truth was undeniable—you were falling for him, and you were falling fast.

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partycatty · 5 months

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i was sent an incredibly delicious prompt to use, and i just can't resist it omg. requester wanted to be anonymous, but just know i appreciate u! i won't lie, i ran into so many blocks trying to get this out. writing is hard :( i ended up taking a couple creative liberties anon i hope that's okay

bi-han > new tricks

johnny cage's girlfriend catches him cheating, so she tries to get back at him using bi-han. it's all fun and games, until something new starts to blossom.

warnings: u get cheated on, THIS IS NSFW, author struggles to write johnny in a bad light bc of their favoritism /j, accidental bottom bi-han

notes: i'm rubbing my hands together like a little fly rn, also bi-han's betrayal doesn't happen in this case, also also yes i made a gif of johnny getting his shit rocked for this fic thumbnail

masterlist <3

PART 2 !!!!

•you and johnny got together following the end of the storyline's events. he charmed you to holy hell and back with those dumb sunglasses and pickup lines at the academy. he was a sweetheart at first, love-bombing you endlessly until you accepted his thirtieth relationship proposal. deciding to stop dragging him along like a lost puppy, you finally said yes, and off you went to date a movie star!

•the change from being nobody to somebody was JARRING. suddenly, cameras were up your ass all the time, and you caught yourself staring out of your apartment window on multiple occasions to see people scurry away when they're spotted.

•even so, you can't lie. the parties that celebrities hold rival outworld's temptations. especially if johnny is hosting. despite downsizing from his mega mansion, his new home was still expansive enough to hold a large number of people. and boy did he take advantage of the space.

•everyone was a few drinks deep, you yourself were a little buzzed but with the intention of loosening up and socializing. johnny however, seems to have other intentions.

•johnny is canonically a recovering alcoholic. he'd indulge in a girly drink every now and then, maybe some whiskey on a really shitty day. but today, he must have combined the two flavors of vice and was now fitting his clothed dick into some random C-list actress's ass, grinding to the music. his sunglasses sloppily clung onto his nose and his face was flushed. drunk or not, he was dry humping some random broad at his own damn party, with you only a few feet away.

•you want to scream so bad, to tear her bleached blonde hair to the ground and beat her, and then johnny. but all you can do is stand there horrified, that is, until johnny looks up from his buried face in her neck and makes eye contact with you, eyes wide.

•"babe — goddamnit — babe!" johnny slurs out, holding your arms tight on his balcony. "it's not... fuck. it's just fun! it's a party! lighten up!"

•after a drunken back and forth, johnny eventually throws his hands in the air and tells you to fuck off because he can find better at that very party. although you heavily disagreed, the conversation abruptly ended when you slurred something back along the lines of "you want some other bitch? have 'em then!" officially ending your relationship and storming out of the party.

•the following few days were rough on your heart, and majority of the time your bed was occupied and loud sobs echoed across your walls. you could've had it all, dammit, and this dickhead just threw you away like nothing! he thinks he can just score any woman he wants, whenever he wants. even if he learned his lesson from cris, his playboy attitude runs in his veins. it's not something he's gonna shake easily, and you were a victim to his unchanging behavior.

•back to living with nothing, you decided to retreat to the one place you knew you were wanted; the lin kuei compound. bi-han, kuai liang and tomas respected your strength when it came to fighting against evil and welcomed you like their own.

•after about three days of living on the lin kuei's land, you check social media. you went ghost online after the breakup since the paparazzi and article rats were prowling the internet (and your home) for details about your breakup with the A-Lister. checking social media proved to be a stupid move, because almost instantly your feed was flooding with photos and videos of your ex-boyfriend partying on yachts and posing with models. he's really out here posting like he's not damaged in the slightest, but literally everyone and their mother can read the post a little deeper and see he's compensating for losing you. you were mature, well-spoken, and well respected, and he was still trying to get his shit together after everything that happened. you were just another crack in his shittily held together glass. and it was time to get back at him.

•it starts off innocently enough, you snap quick photos of the grandmaster when he's not looking, showing only his veiny arms and a hint of his blue uniform. you'd post it to your story to pretend to soft launch this new "boyfriend," linking a romantic song to the post and letting people run wild. this proved effective immediately, as you noticed that "UgotCAGEd" with the little verified mark would view your story almost the exact moment it'd go up. you knew that he knew exactly who was in the photo, and it just had to have been driving him up a wall. he even tried to combat this by posting more and more, each setting getting more lavish and sexy than the last. if anything, johnny was a chronic 1-upper. but you couldn't just post blurry pictures of bi-han forever. this needed to cut deep.

•and you were going to play this stupid game, because if he goes low, you go in the TRENCHES.

•"grandmaster sub-zero, i-i have a favor to ask you," you politely ask, bowing once before smiling up at bi-han. "i have a plan. a... ridiculous one. but it needs your help."

•"you want us to fake partnership?" bi-han asks you, trying to summarize your lengthy explanation. "go ask kuai liang. or tomas. they need something to do these days, with shang tsung imprisoned. i'm busy."

•"it can't be them, it has to be you," you respectfully protest, putting your hands in a prayer position to beg for his help. "johnny is... jealous of you. it would be most effective. and i'll be forever in your debt." bi-han's eyes momentarily widen at your insistence. your desperation for his help caught him a little off guard.

•it's true. johnny was jealous ever since he got his shit kicked in when they first met. they were never really huge fans of each other since then. standing in front of him now, it's easy to understand how bi-han was so superior. his emotions never took control, he was a powerful leader for his clan, and his furrowed brows and gravely voice rumbled inside of your chest... jesus, now that you're getting a good look, he's actually pretty hot. oh, no.

•"this is ridiculous," bi-han groans, trying to angle himself just right in the selfie. he stands behind you, hand wrapped around your neck as you try to angle the photo just right to where it only gives a tease of his face in the mirror's reflection. "how long does one photo take?"

•"it has to be perfect," you reply, eyes focused on your phone as you wiggle it in different directions to get the best possible view. "crouch down a little more, so more of your jawline shows."

•he leans down, and his breath fans across your neck and ear as he sighs in frustration. you can't deny the little tingle it made you feel inside. but hey, anyone would be nervous if a brick wall like bi-han was in breathing vicinity...

•you snap the photo, seemingly satisfied but now fighting a flustered expression. when you look it over, you realize no, this isn't enough. johnny would leak his own sex tape with a model to beat you at this stupid game, and while you weren't necessarily ready to start blowing the ninja, you knew you needed to get one step ahead.

•"can we take... one more?" you ask sheepishly, already trying to put into words what exactly you're going to ask from this expressionless man.

•"only if it's quick," he replies with a frown, crossing his arms.

•you take a deep breath, spinning to face him and nearly chest to chest from the tightness of the small bedroom you were given.

•pointing to your bed, bi-han almost instantly understands. his lips turn into a thin line as his cheeks are brushed with warmth, warmth that he tries to conceal from you with his hand as he rubs his face.

•he sits himself on the bed, propped up on his elbows with a knowing look in his eye. it's difficult to maintain eye contact as you crawl onto the edge of the bed, hesitant to do what you wanted. for a moment, you want to pull away and trash your entire plan. there's no way you were about to climb up and sit on a ninja grandmaster's lap as revenge against your movie star ex. how in the genuine hell did you end up in this situation??

•"come on, woman," bi-han grumbles, sitting up for a moment to abruptly wrap his hands around your hips and pulling you to sit atop his lap. you tense up, realizing you're now straddling him... and lowkey, he looks good under you. he also just manhandled you. hm. curious.

•you try to shift yourself to comfortably rest on his hips before seeming satisfied with the position. shakily, you reach up to snap a selfie, one that conceals his face but shows you sticking your tongue out and flipping the bird.

•and then you felt it.

•at first, it went unnoticed due to your nerves about the uncharacteristic closeness. but, once you settled to snap the photo, you realized that... bi-han was rock fucking hard underneath you. you weren't sure if you should acknowledge it, but regardless, it felt so perfectly sized against your clothed folds, and you make your interest unintentionally obvious when you let out a nervous whimper. bi-han's eyes remained trained onto yours with a hint of hunger in his low-lidded gaze. even though he wanted to initially hide the boner, it was now abundantly obvious and he felt a surge of confidence gauging your reaction. the hands that rested on your hips tightened, his cold fingers digging into your flesh.

•"you feel that?" he grumbles out, his body feeling suddenly incredibly hot against yours. you swallow and nod. as you do, his firm grip starts to rock your hips back and forth against his cock, the friction of the fabric dividing you two sending you wild already. "whose is bigger?"

•"...yours," you answer breathlessly, allowing yourself to be controlled by the cryomancer's hands. your confession was true, too. johnny's dick was long and lean, but bi-han's.... lord. it felt thick. even through layers of clothes it felt like it could tear you down the middle if he pounded hard enough. a new part of you wanted to find out.

•with a sudden haste, bi-han hikes up your skirt and top, holding the clothes bunched around your waist as he abruptly gives you even closer contact to his cock. you could feel it twitch and throb, and every part of you wanted to sink it into your throat to see how well it hugs your mouth's fleshy walls. his hands crawl underneath the bunched up clothes and settle on your hips, this time directly gripping the plush of them.

•a shiver shot down your spine, both with sudden arousal and the frosty trails on your body from his fingertips. even if he wouldn't admit it, he was just as excited as you were. he let out a low growl feeling your pussy leak through your panties and dampen his dick.

•"i hated the way he looked at you," he'd grumble, eyes fixated on the friction he was creating by manhandling your frame to grind against his. "wanted you all to myself — ngh —"

•you wanted so badly to stop and unpack that wild, sudden confession, but you were already fiending for his popsicle like a motherfucker. through your hazy vision, you see bi-han lock eyes with you, a devilish glint present. he reaches between the two of you and palms himself while you try to relieve the pressure on your clit using the back of his hand.

•finally fed up with the foreplay, bi-han pushes you off of him, making you elevate your body on your knees. he tugs his shirt up and his pants down. his member springs free from the tight constraints, and lord help us all, it's as long and thick as it felt through the pants.

•"you wish to get back at that pompous wannabe?" he asks, voice dangerously husky. "get to it then." obeying like a dog, you settle between his parted legs. still holding his dick, he slaps it against your cheek expectantly.

•the tension, the hunger, and the high emotions overtook your strength to remain proper in front of the grandmaster as you eagerly licked at the base of his shaft, trailing kisses all the way to the warm tip. once you feel properly sure of his size, you slowly but surely sink him into your mouth, barely able to get his dick deep enough without causing a strain on your jaw muscles. bi-han tries to keep his arousal under wraps, but when he feels you hollow out your cheeks to give him the greatest pleasure possible, he lets out a little whine of surprise, though it still sounds more animalistic due to his grumbly voice.

•you hold this position for a moment, letting your warmth completely encapsulate his freezing body. you were starting to see stars in the corner of your eyes before bi-han harshly pulls you up by your hair, making you sputter for breath. a thin trail of saliva follows your lips as he raises your head.

•"wait," he commands breathlessly, fumbling with his other hand to find your phone that was discarded onto the mattress. when he does find it, he struggles even more, mind blank from horniness and also his unfamiliarity with smart devices. you chuckle to yourself, climbing back up to his chest and weaving your way between his arms to show him how to record a video. when it's finally figured out, you crawl back down to where you were and grab his cock with a full hand, stroking it lazily. he winces.

•"sensitive already?" you ask in a low tone, giggling to yourself. bi-han didn't have much time to relieve his sexual desires, so it's no wonder that the slightest bit of head nearly sends this man flying to the moon. "i expected more from you, grandmaster—"

•"—shut the fuck up," he replies sternly, not finding your teasing all too funny. "i'll silence that whore mouth."

•woah

•and with that, he holds the phone up, angled downward at you as you angle your lips on his tip again. he grabs the fistful of your hair and sinks you down once more, this time holding you in place. you barely had time to get some air in before getting your throat thoroughly plugged. you put your hands on his thighs to ensure you'd stay upright, but always sure to look at the camera as you gag and drool.

•"that's more like it," he'll purr, pushing your hair from your face as he holds you still. he then directs his voice to the camera. "how about that, cage? taught your dog some new tricks. i'd say she's exceeding expectations."

•when he finally lets you breathe, you only get a couple gasps before willingly taking his cock again, this time bobbing rhythmically. bi-han, as a ninja, is incredibly good at staying silent, so all he can do is let out occasional exhales and sharp intakes of breath as you suck him off.

•you're sure to put on more of a show than usual for the video, looking into the camera with a sultry smile even with your lips stretched out to accommodate for his giant dick. you've got an expression that says "fuck you."

•when bi-han has enough of your pace, he starts to buck his hips into your throat, creating a nasty gargling sound in the back of your head that would be otherwise nauseating. you're surprised he's not ripping the hair straight from your scalp as he death grips a fistful. frosty hands grip the sheets, solidifying them with a thin sheet of ice as he nears the edge. his body can't decide between lurching forward and arching back as you make him cum.

•he's a silent orgasm-haver. bi-han bites down hard on his lower lip as he releases, clenching his eyes shut and knitting his brows together. and boy, does he love to ride the high of fucking your face. he loves it even more knowing he'll have an audience.

•he wanted to cum into your mouth so badly, but even he knew better. he had to make the money shot something memorable. cum painted your face beautifully, dripping down your cheeks and catching in your eyebrows. there was even a thick streak starting from your hairline. with no time to ever do this himself, his jizz accumulated within him for quite some time, now soaking your entire face.

•bi-han stops the video, but only to snap photos of your messied, flushed face. gripping your cheeks to hold you in place, he's sure to make sure every drop of cum is within camera shot as he catches his breath.

•you swipe a glob of his load from your forehead and stick your finger in your mouth, tasting his arousal for you with a smirk.

•"definitely sending that to him," you giggle as he tucks his dick back into his pants. "i'm in your debt, bi-han." normally, he would've protested the use of his first name from an associate of liu kang, but he was too high from his orgasm to really give a shit. instead, he grumbles a small "mhm," and nods, fighting a little smirk himself.

•he stands up and grabs a loose towel, holding up your face more sweetly this time as he wipes you clean. the gesture was oddly soothing. he seemed like a pump and dump kind of man, and he probably is! but you're touching a sweet spot he didn't know he even had. even so, he's silent, never once communicating this and instead expressing it through the minor gesture.

•a relationship doesn't quite blossom yet, but the sexual tension between you two is now incredibly obvious to the lin kuei. his gaze lingers, as does yours. the touches during training last a moment longer. your silly little plan of making johnny angry seemed to have blossomed a new... situationship? we'll unpack that some other time.

•the following morning, your phone rings. it's johnny.

•"DID YOU BLOW THE FUCKING ICE NINJA?!"

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk1 #bi han #bi han x reader #johnny cage smut #sub zero #sub zero x reader #bi han smut

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fraugwinska · 7 days

Note

Hi! Hello! 🥰 first of all - big fan, of all your works, from angst through fluff to smut.

I have an idea for a potentially sweet oneshot:

Reader wants to make an album/photobook of all the residents of the hotel but of course Alastor is avoiding it since she's using her phone for it. She quickly notices and sets on a journey to get an old camera and when Alastor asks her why does she care so much about him being in the album, she without hesitation tells him that it's because he's a part of this family and she cares about him. :)

♡ thanks ♡

Heya my lovely ♡ I think we all need some fluff today, and your ask was perfect for it! Thank you so much for your patience and your prompt! I hope after all this wait this tickles your fancy ;> (2.3k words)

"Frank, no, the other left. A little more... Okay, yes, perfect! Now say 'Cheese'!"

The little eggs threw their hands in the air with enthusiastic vigor, chanting everything but 'Cheese' and you had to steady the hand holding your phone to snap their picture while you supressed a giggle. The little buggers sure did look as energetic in the photos as they were while taking them. You laughed as they stormed over to you, climbing over each other to look at the picture and promised them they'd all get a copy before you returned to your room.

You flopped on your bed and looked over your phone gallery - almost everyone in the hotel was in it. Some pictures were little snapshots you secretly took when nobody was looking. Those were your favorite ones: Angel and Husk laughing at the bar, Charlie and her dad, Lucifer, deep in conversation with a flustered looking Vaggie, Pentious and his Egg Bois playing cards. A selfie with Niffty made you smile, her petrified, empty-staring eye next to your smiling face. You had printed out the best of them, carefully working on putting together a thick, handmade photo album.

Taking photos was a passion you brought with you from your previous life - it made your heart all fuzzy and warm to capture precious moments, finding beauty in almost anyone and everything, if the angle was right and the light wasn't too harsh. With your phones' advanced camera app, that wasn't really a problem and most of the residents didn't mind being the object of your lense, Angel in particular was more than eager to get his picture taken. You accumulated so many portraits and body-shots of him, you could fill a whole album just with those alone. Charlie loved taking selfies with you, pulling anyone near her on their shoulders into the frame (mostly Vaggie, since she seldom left her girlfriends side). Husk had been hesitant at first, but after a while, he just grinned and showed off a tad more when you took photos of him mixing drinks - twirling bottles and winking into the camera with a sly smile. Seeing your work, even Lucifer himself agreed to a few goofy snapshots with his beloved ducks, joking that you would have made a killer advertisement worker with your way with a camera as well as your encouraging words. They, however, failed you with Alastor.

Usually content in your company, he, in an instant, was nowhere to be found whenever you snuck out your phone to secretly take a shot, and you could swear, there were times when you were sure he was actually avoiding you. And you didn't like that at all.

You liked him. He was handsome, of course, but also witty and quick with words, and his laugh was contagious, his smile a delight when it was not murderous, and his jokes (though a bit corny sometimes) were always on point and often had you giggling for minutes. You desperately wished you could capture him when he drinks his morning coffee, an image so sophisticated it made the aesthete in you cry, or immortalize the way he casually leaned on his cane when he was pretending to listen to Charlie's newest plans for group activities on film. Yet, you couldn't even so much as reach for the case of your phone before his eyes snapped to you, and he found excuses to escape you once again. It didn't take you long to catch on that his sentient shadow companion was the snitch, watching you and warning him if it sensed your intentions, the damn thing.

So one day, when you were both alone in the kitchen, him stirring the stew he was preparing for dinner and you, cutting apples for the apple-crumble as dessert, you outright asked him if he would take a photo with you.

"HA! No, I don't care for this frivolous digital tomfoolery, dear." the Radio Demon said simply, his shadow sneering at your disappointed expression, and that had been that. And even though you wanted to respect his wish, it felt like something major was missing when you flipped through the pages of the book, seeing the faces of everyone within the hotel except for his. Incomplete.

'And to hell if I can't do something about that!' you thought as you stubbornly turned off your phone and left it on your dresser, determined to go out and find an old fashioned analogue camera. Maybe, with a little luck and another cautious effort of yours, you could convince Alastor after all if the picture was a physical, tangible piece of paper instead of some abstract pixels on a screen.

On to the streets you went, enjoying the strange but picturesque scenery Hell provided. It's colors, shapes, people you walked by. Your keen eyes automatically looked for nice backgrounds and motifs you could maybe capture, and you also were a little excited to return to analogue photography. As convenient and simple as your phone's camera was, the difference in experience was immense. There was a special kind of magic around capturing moments with an old, clunky thing and developing the films yourself you just couldn't artificially replace.

The Voxtech store was a bust from the beginning. Of course, you already suspected that hell's equivalent to Apple probably wouldn't sell anything older than the 'V-Phone 34.2', but to be outright laughed at had been uncalled for. "Analogue camera? You must be shitting me, girl." the clerk said, not even bothering to turn his head from the TV behind the counter to acknowledge you. "Nobody uses that outdated shit-tech anymore."

You left the store in a bad mood and with the strong urge to flip off the guy through the window, but settled for kicking the dumb grinning cardboard cutout of the store's flatscreen-faced namesake, advertising for the 'V-Phone 55.1' instead. Smug piece of shit.

Your search continued through the streets, but with every store you visited - offbrand electronic stores, thrift shops, even a sketchy looking flea market - your hope dwindled. No one seemed to have a single analog camera to sell, and your options ran thinner by the seconds. Feeling defeated, you finally decided to return to the hotel when a store caught your eye. The wonky wooden store sign just said 'Old Crap', displaying a black pentagram globe, a medieval looking longsword under a big porcelain crane and a cathedral radio on a pedestal in the shop window. With a last spark of hope, you entered the shop, ready to give your last penny if needed if they had what you were looking for.

You ran the whole way back home, cheeks flushed and with hell's biggest grin on your face.

The bag on your shoulder bounced and swayed with every step, the newly acquired Polaroid 100 in it's pocket knocking heavily against your hip, and you clutched the small, paper parcel with the packfilm to your chest like a treasure.

"I did it! I found one!", you shouted into the lobby when you entered, immediately catching the attention of a surprised Alastor standing in front of the lobby's fireplace. "Where have you been? You missed dinner, dear." he asked, eyeing you curiously as you ran over to him.

"Out. I don't really know, and it doesn't matter, because look, Alastor, LOOK!" you repeated, almost jumping up and down on the spot as you rummaged through your bag, and his smile faltered a bit as he tried to make sense of your erratic babbling.

"Easy now...What are you going on about, darling?" he asked, confused, and you proudly pulled the camera out, presenting it to him like you found the holy grail.

"See? It's an analogue camera! The only one in hell, apparently, since I spent the whole day combing the entire goddamn city for it.", you explained, and the deer demon's eyes widened at the sight of the vintage gadget. He hesitantly reached out to touch the camera, carefully brushing the tarnished silver metal frame with his fingertips. His brows furrowed as he eyed the device in your hands, and he looked as if he wanted to say something, but you were too excited, cutting him off before he could speak.

"I thought maybe this would be a good compromise, you know, to get a photo of you without it being digital, since you really don't like that! I've never used one like this before, though, but the seller told me how it works! It's easy, really. You put in the film..." You did what you said with nimble fingers, almost shaking with anticipation whilst Alastor just watched you silently, his hands folded behind his back and a curious tilt of his head. "… then you pull the tab here, and it's ready to use! Like this!"

You pointed it at the fireplace, making sure the Alastor could see that you didn't direct it at him as to not spook him away before you really convinced him, and pressed the shutter, the proud smile still on your face.

With a long whining squeak, the whole thing fell apart in your hands, and you stared in horror as the pieces of what once was your camera clattered through your fingers to the ground and tiny screws rolled in different directions. You didn't move a muscle. You didn't even breathe. All that had transpired in the span of the last few seconds was too much for you to process, and you were on edge of tears as your face fell. The initial shock was quickly replaced with despair, and the welled up tears finally fell from your eyes. You felt incredibly stupid. How could you be so naive to think that was a good idea, when clearly, the whole goddamn universe was telling you otherwise?

Alastor's ears flicked when the first quiet sniffle broke the silence, and he glanced over at you. "I don't suppose it was meant to do that?"

You didn't say anything, just shook your head, trying to hide the wet streaks on your face. Alastor patted your hair lightly in an attempt to console you.

"Mh I see... it's a pity, really. I hope you didn't invest too much in that old thing, sweetheart."

You laughed humorlessly. "Only my savings."

The hand on your head froze still. "You surely mean part of it, right dear?"

"All of it."

He looked at the pile of loose leather and broken metal, then back at you. "All of... Why would you do such a foolish thing, darling?"

The question hit you harder than the door had slammed shut behind you when you stormed out of the Voxtech store earlier today. You shrugged.

"I just thought... I guess I just really wanted to get a picture of you." you confessed, wiping your face. It sounded so silly, when said out loud. "It's so nice, to have everyone I came to love in my album, like a family. And I felt like you were the only one kind of... left out, and I just..."

You had trouble explaining to Alastor exactly what was the motivation behind your thoughtless purchase - it all came together so naturally inside your head, but now that you tried to convey it out loud, your reasoning felt childish and embarrassingly naive. You lowered your head, tears blurring your sight, when a hand softly brushed over your cheek. You looked up at him, startled, as the back of his hand brushed away stray tears.

"Your heart was really set on this, wasn't it?"

His voice was gentle and soft as he spoke, and you could swear his eyes had a weird gleam when you barely nodded. You felt your cheeks blush and attempted to turn your head to avert your eyes, but he suddenly pulled you into his side, his face pressed against yours as with the flick of a wrist, an old folding camera appeared in his hand that he held, lens pointing at the both of you.

"Smile, my dear."

A poof and a flash later, and he held a developed photograph in his fingers, handing it to you with a smile much more genuine than you've ever seen. "There you go. I hope this'll do."

The picture was crisp and in stunning, vibrant colors, and you couldn't tear your eyes from the way his red irises seemed to come alive and the how it perfectly captured the pink hue on your cheeks, face flustered and yet oddly beautiful next to his own gleeful, picture perfect face.

"It's perfect." you breathed out, pressing the picture to your chest as tears, this time ones of gratitude and something warm and entirely unknown to you, threatened to spill over again. Alastor tutted at the wet sound, his long fingers tenderly wiping them away before they could fall.

"There, there. No more tears now."

You nodded, unable to lift your head as the feeling of his touch lingered on your cheek and you shyly looked away, hands still firm on the photo and over your racing heart. He cleared his throat and brought a fist to his mouth in a quick not-cough, and from the corners of your eye you thought you saw the faint traces of a blush on his face before it was already gone.

"Come now, there's still dinner left to be had, dear, and I am very interested to know who sold you this..." he picked up a piece of the shattered device from the floor and held it between his thumb and his index finger, the expression in his red eyes unreadable, and there was a certain intensity to his gaze you couldn't interpret, but it certainly made your heart race a little faster. "faulty device. I fear he and I need to have a little word."

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angel dust #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel niffty #sir pentious #egg bois #quickfic #fluffy as hell #lucifer hazbin hotel

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minty364 · 4 months

Text

DPXDC Prompt #61 Part 4

Danny woke up to a stream of sunlight on his face. The room was just as rich as he remembered, he stood up and stretched a bit before he heard a knock at the door.

It was Alfred bringing him a change of clothes, “Breakfast is ready, Master Danny. You can find the dining room down the hall to the left.” the old butler smiled at him.

“You don’t have to call me Master, Alfred, I’m not your Damian.” Danny said, turning around to address him.

“Ah, yes, however you are still Master Bruce’s son, even from another world.” The butler gave him a cheeky smile.

Danny shrugged and headed to the bathroom to get changed. Once he was decent again, he headed down to the dining room.

The room was just as fancy as the rest of the house with a chandelier and ornate vases.

Danny noticed Damian and a few others already seated at the table. Damian wore what Danny could only assume was his rich kid school uniform. He sat across from Damian who made a small ‘Tt’ and turned away from him.

Next to Damian was Tim who put away his laptop once Danny sat down. Tim was wearing a business suit, a dark red colored one. “Ah, you sleep much longer than Damian does, you must have been tired.” Tim smiled at him.

Also seated at the table and wearing a navy blue suit, was Bruce himself. He was drinking coffee and reading a newspaper.

“Stop comparing me to him, Drake, I’m nothing like this imposter.” Looks like Damian still thought he was a clone.

Whatever, he shrugged it off and filled his plate.

“I don’t really have a lot of free time,” was all Danny said before he started eating.

Tim kind of watched him for a minute, he looked kind of shocked for a second, “You’re eating meat??”

Ah so that was another difference between them, “again, I’m Danny, I’m not Damian.”

Damian scoffed, “So that’s what you call yourself, imposter.”

Danny gave Damian a tired sigh, looks like the him of this universe was a lot more prideful than he was. Danny went through way too much to carry the same, dying and being crown prince of the infinite realms wasn’t exactly something he was born into. Danny was a bit jealous if he was being honest with himself.

“Damian, please at least attempt to be friendly. Danny is our guest for the meantime.” Bruce said, putting his newspaper down. He then turned his attention to Danny, “I know it isn’t ideal but I think it’ll be best for you to stay here until we can get you to your own world. I’m planning a trip to the Watchtower tomorrow so I can speak with some of my colleagues about the situation.”

Danny sighed but nodded his head, “I get it, you can’t have two of us running around.”

“Quite, you’re more than welcome to go around the mansion and the grounds, I’d also like to invite you along to the Watchtower but we’d need to come up with a disguise for you, secret identity and everything.” Bruce continued after taking another sip from his mug, “Alfred will still take you out today to get some basic necessities for you. We’ll get you a proper disguise so you're able to go with him.”

Danny nodded again and continued eating. He thought things over as he ate, he technically had a disguise they could use for the Watchtower but Danny was still on the fence on what exactly he’d tell everyone here.

It wasn’t exactly an easy conversation to have, thankfully some more people arrived for breakfast.

Master Post:

Last:

#dp x dc prompt #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #dc x dp #Damian and Danny are the same person from different universes #I’ll bring in more of the family on the next part #Getting a little writers block tbh #my asks are open #all my prompts are free to use #Damian being Damian #Damian gets close to throwing a knife in the next one #Also trip with Alfred in the next part #Am I doing this right?#How does one write fanfics?#I have heavy imposter syndrome someone please give me advice LMAO

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endlessthxxghts · 4 months

Text

Hungry

Frankie Morales x afab!reader | W/C: 1.7k

Summary: You decide to go home on your lunch break. You call to see if your boyfriend can join you.

Content/Warnings: No physical descriptions of reader. No “y/n”. Implied that Frankie and you live together. Porn with a sprinkle of plot. 18+ MDNI!! Oral sex (both receiving). Face riding turned 69…Cumming untouched (kind of?). Cum eating. Please do let me know if I missed anything!!!

A/N: HI GUYS I’VE MISSED YOU. I’m on my university campus from 9-5, and I had a particularly rough day, so I went home on my lunch break (which I normally don’t do), and instead of lunch, I did something else. This was that something else. I hope you enjoy.👹

MASTERLIST || NOTIFS BLOG

He picks up after one ring. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

You don’t usually call him during your work day—the lab being too hectic even on your lunch break to enjoy anything other than the lunch you packed yourself.

“Nothing, I just- I miss you,” you tell him softly.

Today, though…Today is different. You’re exhausted and your other team members are also having a slow day, so you decide to call your boyfriend. You also decide that you deserve lunch off-site: in the comfort of your own home.

“I miss you, querida,” Frankie says, returning your warmth and gentleness tenfold.

Gods, his voice. The deep, softness of his voice never fails to make the butterflies flutter in your belly. And also… further below. You can’t help the next words that fall from your mouth.

“I want you.”

Only then does he realize—you’re not at the lab. He doesn’t hear the hustle and bustle of research going on in the background, he doesn’t even hear the air conditioning that’s always blasting in the break room. He’s called you once while you were on site, and he learned his lesson then. So, seeing you call today prompted him to think there was an emergency. And in his realization—yes, this is very much an emergency, but not the one he was expecting.

“You’re home, aren’t you?” He asks, really not needing the confirmation but obliges anyway.

“Yeah,” you say breathily.

“Do not go anywhere. Be there in ten, baby.”

“Make it five,” you whimper, ending the call, not wanting the formalities of a goodbye, too hung up on your dire need for him to handle hearing his voice without being able to touch him.

Frankie does make it home in five—taking my forty-five! he calls out to his boss as he walks out with no time for extra conversation. Professionally, that really wouldn’t do, but luckily, he’s always been on the good side of his superior.

“Querida!” He calls out as he enters the front door.

As soon as he’s through the door, you’re on him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he drops the keys in his hands to fully engulf you. The kiss is needy, desperate. You can’t help the moans already falling from your lips, and he’s just as eager to swallow them up. You do a mini jump, your legs wrapping around his waist, as he walks you two to your shared bedroom.

As he nears the edge of the bed, you untangle your legs from around him so he can sit down. But as soon as he’s hitting the bed, you’re straddling him once again, licking into his mouth as you grasp at the nape of his neck, your needy center grinding into his hard length.

Frankie’s lips break from yours, trailing kisses down your jaw, passing your chin, and settling on your neck, nipping and sucking the sweet spots that always have your hips bucking wildly into him, begging for more. He can feel the heat radiating from your center, his cock leaking at the sensation.

However, neither of you really have much time before you need to return to your respective jobs, and Frankie simply needs to eat.

His fingers meet the hem of your bottoms, pulling them down as you move your body around, allowing them to come down with ease.

Frankie starts leaning back, his hands trailing back to the meat of your thighs, grabbing them tightly and nudging you up his torso.

“F-Frankie, what-” you stutter, breathless and mind hazy from your makeout session.

You’re on your knees now, situated above his shoulders, your gaze looking down into his. “Sit,” is all he tells you.

“Frankie… we’re both on a clock here,” your voice waivers. Hesitant. When Frankie eats you out, he eats, and most of the time, he’ll continue out of his own pleasure well after however many orgasms he pulls out of you in this way.

“Just gonna make you cum, querida, promise,” he smirks, mischief written all over his face.

Without another word, he grabs your thighs, and forces your entire weight onto him, your thighs immediately clenching in the feeling as his tongue glides through your soaked folds. “Oh- Fuck,” you gasp, the pleasure hitting you all at once.

You can feel his smirk as your breathing grows heavier and your hips start to move on their own. Realizing what your body’s asking for, Frankie lifts you off of him and urges you to turn around. You don’t understand what for until his hands are guiding yours to grip onto his waist—your torso leaning forward at the movement.

Oh.

Oh, you like this. A lot.

In this angle, your pelvis opens up more for him, and you have more support to be able to freely grind against his face. This was Frankie’s main reason for repositioning you, but he didn’t realize what he just did. You now have complete access to the part of him that’s been throbbing for your attention.

Slowly, you let one of your hands glide upwards to his belt, the twang of his belt buckle making your mouth drool in response. Frankie pulls away momentarily. “What- what are you doing?” He asks, voice hoarse and utterly aroused at what you’re about to do.

You smile to yourself at his question. “Just keep eating, baby,” you say, pushing your sex back into his face, his nose nudging a particularly sensitive spot making you moan at the contact. You can feel the way he groans into you, the vibrations sending more slick for him to greedily drink up.

You finally get his cock free from the restraining khakis, and your pussy flutters at the view. He’s painfully hard, his tip red and precum all over. You put him into your mouth, swirling the head with your tongue to collect everything he’s giving you. You lift off him with a pop, a moan and a so fucking good leaving your mouth before you spit on him—watching his cock twitch as your drool drips down his length.

You pump his cock a few times to spread the mixture of your spit and his precum down his length. Satisfied, you take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue, pushing him as far back as you possibly can. Your gag reflex triggers then, your throat constricting around where he’s most sensitive, and he whimpers at the feeling, momentarily pausing his attention on you.

Using your gag to your advantage, you don’t stop bobbing up and down on his length, the sloppiness of it all sending him into a horny spiral. He loves having his mouth on you, but the feel of your mouth on him has his eyes rolling back to his head, his tongue slowing in his strokes as his body buzzes in the pleasure you’re giving him. His hips start fucking up into your mouth, and you moan around him, getting spurred on at his desperation.

“F-fuck-” he grunts. “Taking me- fuck- taking me so fucking good,” Frankie sighs, head falling back into the mattress. You almost made him forget his task at hand—which you genuinely wouldn’t mind because he’s always putting your pleasure first—but as soon as the fact hits him, oh, he’s going in.

Frankie grabs onto your waist, forcing your entire center flush against his face as he brings your clit to his mouth, sucking and nipping at it with a calculated intensity—the feeling radiating up your spine and down into your toes—hurtling you towards your orgasm within seconds. His cock slips from your mouth at his action, but right now, you really can’t think about anything else.

“Oh, yes, Frankie-” you gasp, “fuck, I’m gon- I’m gonna cum, please,” you whine, your cunt grinding wildly into his face.

“Mmmm,” he grunts. Cum for me, querida, you know he’s telling you.

Your orgasm is blinding, eyes clamped shut as your mouth mindlessly babbles praises to the man underneath you. “Oh my- oh fuck, you’re so-” you pant, unable to catch your breath at the intensity. “Good God, Frankie,” you whine.

Although you stopped paying attention to his thick member, the way your body convulses above him sends him to his own edge, cum shooting out and landing across his lower tummy, nearly half a centimeter away from splashing your face. You don’t realize this until after your breathing has slowed, your eyes finally peeling open and peering at the pooling milky liquid near his belly button.

As much as you can in your exhausted state, you pull your head up and dart your tongue out, coating every part of your tongue with his cum, a squeaky little sigh escaping you at the taste of his salty musk.

“Christ, baby,” you hear him mutter when he feels your tongue tickling across his surface.

You untangle yourself from his body, repositioning so your head is in alignment with his. “That was fun,” you say casually before pressing a lengthy kiss to his lips, tongue sneaking into his mouth, exchanging each other’s flavor.

“Yeah? Wanna go for round two?” Frankie asks, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Frankie!” You scold, slapping his chest. “We’re on a lunch break—no, we can’t go for round two!”

He pouts at you, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you into one more kiss before you both have to leave again. As if your colleagues are watching you, both yours and his phone ring right as your lips begin to touch.

Jumping off the bed, you ignore your bottoms on the floor and run straight to your phone, answering it with your last name.

“Hey. No rush, but when do you think you’ll be back? Dr. Mowak is ready for your report if you are,” your lab assistant tells you.

Oh, fuck.

“Hey, yeah, I’m on my way back now, I accidentally caught up with a last minute… emergency,” you say, a little awkwardly.

You hear a soft chuckle behind you. You turn around to see Frankie with a boyish grin, winking at you.

You roll your eyes at him, but the butterflies flutter all the same.

Or maybe it’s your stomach growling.

Shit, you’re hungry.

If you’d like to see more, check out my masterlist or follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to be updated on my new stories!! Much love to you all, thank you so much for reading and interacting with my silly little delusional self. 🫶🏼🫶🏼

@pedrostories

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idleoblivion · 15 days

Text

"Yes, Professor" Crewel x GN Reader

Synopsis: The allowance Crowley gives you just isn’t enough. Maybe you can convince your alchemy professor to assist you somehow…

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: Literally the first smut I've ever written so I'm so nervous to post this, I don't know what possessed me to write this but here we are lol.

Warnings: Teacher/student relationship, gn reader, shy/nervous reader, semi-public sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, unprotected sex, overuse of the word 'puppy'

You knock on the door to his office three times and hear shuffling for a moment on the other side.

“Come in.”

You open it and take a few steps in before spotting him at his desk. Divus Crewel, your alchemy professor, as he sorts through a stack of what you assume are the lab reports you turned in earlier that day. He stops what he’s doing and motions you to a chair in front of his desk.

“You said you wanted to speak to me, yes? I hope you weren’t lying about it being important.”

You swallowed and tried to straighten your posture as you sat down. “No, I wasn’t. Thank you for meeting with me.”

He looks you over and you feel your resolve weakening. Maybe this really wasn’t a good idea after all.

Crewel meets your eyes expectantly. “Well, what is it then?”

You can barely continue to make eye contact with how tight your chest feels with anxiety. You play with your hands anxiously in your lap. After a few seconds of silence, he continues.

“I don’t have all evening, pup. Tell me what you’re here for, quickly.” His tone became more sharp, prompting you to nervously begin.

“So you know, about my…. um, living situation and uh, money… I, uh, I don’t really have a lot and m-my clothes and uniform are a wreck, and…. and my friends talk about seeing movies and going out but I-“

“Puppy,” he interrupts you, “I am aware of your circumstances. However, I am also aware that the headmaster does supply you a small allowance for food and clothes, even if they may be….” He stops himself from finishing his sentence as he looks at your uniform on you. “Never mind. I won’t lie and say I feel no sympathy for you, but if you’re about to ask me to start funding you as well, the answer is no. I could not allow myself to freely spoil every puppy who is less fortunate in my class.”

“I…well, I-“ you stutter, but will yourself to continue, “I didn’t say it would be for free.” The last part barely comes out as a whisper, but the look on his face tells you he heard it well. You shift in your seat at his change in expression.

“Oh? Well, it still wouldn’t be considered appropriate of me to take bribes or favors from students, but…” he trails off for a moment, and you notice an increasing intensity in his gaze, “I suppose I can hear you out.”

If you were anxious before, you were almost panicky now. You hadn’t expected to actually get this far, for him to actually consider your offer and not just scold or report you, but you couldn’t deny the building excitement inside you either.

“If… if you help me, I’ll, um… well, uh, what would you want me to do?” Struggling to find the confidence yourself, you try to make him spell it out, but he must realize what you’re doing as his smirk only grows.

“I think you had something in mind to offer me, puppy, and if you really want my help you’re going to have to say it.” He stands up and removes his oversized fur coat and lays it on his chair behind him. “That’s an order, from your master. Tell me what you’ll do for me.”

He leans over his desk, looking at you smugly. Part of you wonders if he knew this is where your conversation would head, but you quickly disperse that thought and stand up yourself.

“…Anything. Anything you want, I’ll do it.” You hesitantly step towards his desk and lean in.

He laughs lightly under his breath, then looks back at you.

“We’re just going in circles, aren’t we? Alright, puppy, I’ll be generous today and help you. Come here.”

You walk around the desk to stand in front of him directly. His gloved hand comes up to your face and holds your jaw gently. He leans down some, and speaks to you in a low voice.

“You know, there’s that Al-Asim boy and Kingscholar, among others, who have plenty of wealth to throw around at this school. So, what brought you to my office and not their dorms, puppy? If you can say that, I’ll give you a reward.”

His hand on your face forces you to keep looking at him. You take one more deep breath before quietly answering.

“I…I want you. Not them. You.”

He smiles at that and gives you a quick peck on the forehead. “Good puppy. Now sit on my desk.”

You lift yourself onto his desk and he walks forward, caging you in with his arms. He leans down and kisses you gently at first. Just his lips on yours has your body burning up as you wrap your arms around him. You let him slip his tongue in and he groans into your heated kiss.

“You know,” he pauses and takes a step back, “I think I’ve still let you get your way too easily.” He pulls his desk chair back up and sits down while removing his gloves. “So, be a good puppy and get rid of these.” He grabs and tugs on the pants of your uniform.

You feel your face get even hotter but comply, taking them off with your underwear and tossing them to the floor. You instinctively try and keep your legs shut, but he tsks at you and pries them open.

He bites his lip as he looks at you, then meets your eyes with a predatory look. “Touch yourself for me.”

You begin slowly, nervous and self-conscious under his stare, but the bulge straining against his pants tells you you have no reason to be. You try to look away from him but he calls your attention back immediately.

“Eyes on me. That’s an order.”

You hesitantly obey and fix your gaze back on him. He undoes his belt and frees his cock from his pants. Your hands slow as you watch him intently.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, puppy. Keep going.”

You’re both touching yourselves now, his eyes following every desperate movement of your fingers as you get more and more aroused. Watching him stroke himself to the sight of you adds to your embarrassment and pleasure. You bite your lip to stifle your voice.

“Puppy, you want to me to fuck you?”

You’re ashamed of the whimper you let you out when he says it, but nod vigorously anyway.

“Say it.”

“Yes professor, please fuck me.”

“Stop then. Hold your legs open for me.”

You obey and he walks back over to you. He kisses you again, deep and passionate while he undoes the tie of your uniform and opens your shirt. He gently pulls it off of you before his hands come up to grope your chest.

He pulls your hips closer to the edge, and you can feel him start teasing you with the head of his cock. You bury your face in his shoulder as he starts inching himself into you. You moan feeling yourself stretch for him. He grunted as he bottomed out in you, then held still for a moment.

He pulls you back away from his shoulder to look at you, and smirks at your lustful, blissed out face. He gives you no further warning before he starts moving, feeling you clutch onto him as he thrusts.

You can no longer stop yourself from moaning loudly, with how deep he feels inside you and him nipping at your neck while his hips never slow or stop, he fucks you steady and hard.

“Look at you, getting so loud. Is it good, puppy? You like it?”

“Ah- yes, yes professor, so good I-“

You nearly squeal as a particular thrust leaves you reeling, and he moans as he feels you tighten around him. He sped up, fucking you faster and harder until you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

“Crying for me, puppy?” He smiled and licked a tear that had fallen down your cheek. The pressure building inside you was getting to be too much.

“Professor, p-professor I’m-“ you gasped as he bit you on the shoulder and grabbed your hips roughly.

“Cum for me, puppy. You can do it, be good for me.”

With a wail, your orgasm hit you hard, making you keel over and grab onto Crewel for support. Your body was on fire and he didn’t stop for a moment, he just kept holding your hips with a tight grip you while he pounded into you harshly. He cursed under his breath, praising you in your ear as he chased his own release.

“Fuck puppy I’m close, take it, fuck-“

He finally releases and you feel his cock twitch as he cums inside you. The warm feeling has you softly moan again, despite how absolutely exhausted your body was.

You both took a few moments to finish coming down from your highs. He makes you look at him again, and smirks at how fucked out you look.

“So, we’ll get you some new clothes this weekend, puppy? That sound good?”

You tiredly nod, and he kisses you again.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #divus crewel #twst crewel #twst x gn reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst divus

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thehighladywrites · 6 months

Text

— “tell me you’re mine.” “ i’m yours.”

☀︎ — pairing: azriel x afab!reader

☀︎ — summary: you dream that azriel was cheating on you and now you can’t look at him without being annoyed. It’s not really his fault, but still… azriel reassures you, promising that you’re the only one for him.

☀︎ — warnings: a sprinkle of angst, fluff, a bit of crack, smut, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dirty talk, fluffy smut ngl, mentions of crying, cursing, mentions of hickeys and bruises

☀︎ — amara’s note: i loved writing this, also this is my apology fluff fic for the angst fic. hope you liked it! also english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar errors, no you didn’t 🫶🏽 i think this is my proudest work🥹

tags: @callmeblaire @rowaelinsdaughter @azrielslightintheshadows @hauntedwitch04

Azriel’s brows furrowed as you avoided his hug for the second time today and just walked past him, acting like he wasn’t more than a ghost. This whole brushing him off thing had been going on all day and he was genuinely confused. Were you in a bad mood? Was your cycle coming? Azriel knew you were emotional during this time, but you usually stuck to him like glue.

He checked his mental calendar - no, not for another two months.

Did he say something to you? He replayed everything he said and every conversation you had yesterday and today but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Well, except for the fact that you were flat out ignoring him.

Azriel felt distressed over the fact that you ignored him, and he just wanted to be closer to calm down. Knowing he might have upset you, deeply unsettled him, prompting a strong desire to bridge the emotional gap between you.

Azriel found solace in your presence whenever he felt upset. You'd sprawl on the plush bed, arms open wide, inviting him into your embrace with a soft and tender expression. His head would rest on your chest, settling his weight on you, comforted by the beat of your calming heartbeat. It was a sweet sanctuary he sought when the world felt heavy.

There was nothing calm or sweet about the way you didn't spare him a second look, pouting as you carried on with your day. Occasional dagger stares shot his way, and even though you thought he didn't notice, he did. Of course, he did. The tension in the air was palpable as your silent discontent lingered.

Azriel decided to start small and ask an easy question, not daring to accidentally say something that will set you off.

“So, angel, what have you done while I was gone? Is the book you picked out yesterday any good?”

Sipping on the delightful peppermint tea, you huffed and snorted, keeping your gaze fixed on the window from the comfort of the soft sofa in the sitting room.

“Well, wouldn’t you just love to know?”

His brain was scrambled at this point, desperately attempting to save the clearly and very obviously dying conversation.

“Uh, yes? I’d love to know. If you don’t want to talk about the book then that’s fine but-”

“You’re just giving up so easy, Azriel. Atleast fight a bit. No wonder you cheated on me…”

Huh? What the actual fuck?? Confused and shocked, his brain went haywire, jaw dropping as he struggled to find words. A bewildered look crossed his face as he grappled with the unexpected situation.

He cheated on you? What were you talking about? The mere thought of being near another woman made him nauseous. Really, he didn’t like being around people at all, so the thought of going out of his way to find someone and then invite them to bed was something that made him shiver.

“What are you saying? I would never be unfaithful to you, please let’s just talk.” he dropped to his knees infront of you, panicked, trying to find the words to explain himself and to clear his name of something he didn’t do.

“You cheated on me. Yeah, with some blonde girl. And you seemed to enjoy it, too. Ugh, I’m so pissed, I can’t even look at you.” You put down your teacup a bit too hard as you folded your arms over your chest, glaring out the window in silent anger.

The crackling of the hearth was the only sound as Azriel's face paled. He was at a loss – how did you come to believe he was unfaithful? Where did these thoughts come from? The mystery hung in the air, a palpable tension challenging the warmth of the fireplace.

“If I truly was unfaithful, can you provide details? When did this happen, and where was I with this girl?” You felt his pleading, questioning stare burn into you from where he knelt.

Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t keep this up. He didn’t actually cheat on you. It was a dream but it felt so realistic that when you woke up and saw him besides you, you actually snarled. There you were, struggling to look at him without mentally replaying the scene of some random woman giving Azriel's body a tour. Fucking hell, you had never felt such betrayal and hurt by something that didn’t even happen.

But it felt silly to tell Azriel that you were mad at him for something your subconscious created , a dream you had dreamt. So you simply avoided him instead.

But damn, he was persistent.

Perhaps it was irrational, but you felt a desire to stir up some drama, maybe hoping to shake things up a bit.

“Okay, Azriel, I’ll spill. Yesterday at Rita’s, this blonde woman was all over you, touching everywhere. And you, shamelessly soaked it up like it was a spa. In my dream you also smiled as you held eye contact with me. You totally knew I saw you and did it anyways.” You looked away, breathing deeply as the memories invaded your mind.

Azriel felt a combination of relief and disbelief as you revealed it was all a dream. But he wouldn’t downplay what you imagined since he deep down felt your hurt through the bond. You had already been married for decades but the bond had snapped about 7 months, still new, so he understood that seeing him with someone else was hard. Hell, he’d feel absolutely murderous if he ever dreamt of some male feeling you up and fucking you, even if it was a dream.

He stood up as he dragged you to your feet and tilted his head, assessing if he should approach you or not,

“Sweetheart, you know I'd never do such a thing, right? How could I ever be unfaithful to you, my sweet girl? You're my perfect mate, my loving wife, my everything.”

He stepped closer and closer until his enticing scent enveloped you. Oh, how did you go an entire day without being close to him? Your mate towered over you, gently gripping your chin and tilting your head up. His face mere centimeters away, a magnetic force pulling you into a moment that blurred any lingering doubts.

“ I love you more than anything on this planet. In no universe would I ever stray away from you - you’re my beloved home, my cauldron fated. Over my dead body would I ever entertain another woman. I’ve waited for over half a millennium for you and I’d wait a million more for just a minute with you, sweetheart. I will never allow myself to disrespect you like that ever, I promise.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as he drew closer, his soft lips meeting yours. In that moment, your love for him overwhelmed everything else. His gentle kiss offered reassurance and warmth, the sting of the bargain tattoo fading into the background as he continued, sending shivers down your spine.

Needing one last push of reassurance you beg him for a last sentence. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, you whisper,

“Say you’re mine. Say you belong to me.”

"I'm yours, I belong to you. Just as you're mine, you belong to me."

Tears streamed down as your heart raced, overwhelmed by his sincere devotion to you.

He wiped away your tears gently, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. “No more doubts, my love. We're bound to each other, and I'll spend every moment proving my devotion to you.”

His words hung in the air, creating a comforting embrace that removed any lingering insecurities, even ones in dreamscapes.

You slumped in his arms, finding solace in the embrace of his huge arms. He held you tightly, rocking you gently from side to side, creating a soothing rhythm. Your tears dried, replaced by a sense of calm as the only audible sound became the steady beat of his heart. Inhaling his calming scent, you grounded yourself in the reassurance of your mate's embrace.

Azriel tenderly stroked your hair, his touch a gentle reassurance. In a heartfelt moment, he pressed a soft kiss to your hairline, expressing his love and commitment without the need for words.

Your heart swelled with love, the connection through your bond overflowing with overwhelming warmth. The excess energy and love pulsated between you two, prompting you to contemplate a way to reciprocate the comfort and love to Azriel.

Lifting your head from its resting place on his chest, you stood on your tiptoes and initiated a kiss. Your arms remained cradled by him, your head guiding the motion as you continued to share this affectionate moment with your husband.

Azriel noticed the quickening beat of your heart, your eyes fluttering as the kiss deepened. He knew what you wanted and he couldn’t deny you ever. His lucious lips curving into a smile. You did your best to keep eye contact with him but it was difficult given that Azriels eyes had darkened over with lust, pupils expanding as his lids were slightly lowered.

Staring him dead in the eyes you whispered your desires,

“I want you. I want you everywhere. I want your mouth.”

You placed a kiss on his cheek.

“I want your hands.”

You kissed his other cheek.

“ I want you inside me, mate. “

You gave him a final kiss on the lips, sealing your wishes.

Azriel let his eyes flutter shut, struggling to tame his desires. He knew you inside and out, knew exactly what pace and setting you craved in that moment. Bending down to your level, Azriel picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom.

As Azriel carried you to the bedroom, you couldn't resist planting tender kisses along his neck, sucking and biting as you created bruises. The soft touch of your lips added a playful warmth to the moment and you couldn’t help staring up at him. His handsome features captivated you – the straight nose, sharp jaw, and beautiful eyes. He looked as if The Mother Herself had carefully carved him. His long, dark lashes and perfectly shaped brows added an extra layer to the masterpiece that was Azriel.

A possessive pride swelled within you. As you continued trailing kisses along his neck, you couldn't help but revel at the fact that Azriel was undeniably yours. A sense of exclusivity and fierce protectiveness filled your mind, boasting that no one would ever touch him the way you did, no one would ever love him the way you did.

‘Suck on that you blonde bitch’ was all you could smugly think.

Azriel gently placed you in front of the full-length mirror by your bed, positioning himself behind you. With deliberate care, he bent down, pressing kisses to your head, temple, ear, cheek, and finally, lingering on your neck. Each kiss was an expression of affection, creating a trail of shivers along your spine and arms.

His hands slid down to your waist, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze. The slow, deliberate touch made the moment feel personal and intimate. You make eye contact with your husband through the mirror and slightly nod, giving him permission to continue.

You step back, making him feel your ass through his pants, grinding against him as his hands travel up to your breasts. Azriel lightly squeezes them before moving to play with your stiffened nipples. His moves elicit a gasp from you as you revel at the feeling of him touching you.

You press against him again, this time harder. Azriel hisses as he lightly grab your neck with one hand, focusing his clouded eyes on yours through the mirror.

“Watch it. This is about you, not me, baby.” He unzips your dress, letting it pool around your feet. Instinctively you bring your hands up to cover yourself up, looking away, and realizing that you’re in fact completely stark naked infront of your fully dressed mate.

Azriel is having none of it. He wants you to see how beautiful you are. Wants you to see how your face twist in pleasure. Wants you to notice your little quirks that you otherwise wouldn’t see. He wants you too see the goddess he’s worshipping every day.

“Eyes open, sweetheart. You have to see how beautiful you look.” His hands envelops yours as he lowers your hands, leaving you bare infront of him. You hear rustling behind you and feel a sudden warmth pressing against your back. Opening your eyes, you see Azriel undressed with his warm chest pressed against your back. He looked massive, wings splayed proudly behind him, big arms flexing as he leaned down. His lips pressed against your ear, and the hot breath sent shivers down your spine.

“You’re my perfect girl. Look at you, all nice and ready for me. Now, imagine I see this everyday, imagine you laying under me, taking me like a good girl. That’s what you are right, a good girl?”

You nod absentmindedly as your mind goes blank. You just wanna make him proud of you, just wanna please him. “Uh-huh ‘m your good girl, Azzie.”

He flashes you a smirk, hands traveling further down as he teases your clit before pushing in his finger. You let out a sound of pleasure as your head slumps back into his chest, his massive hand wrapping around your throat. In and out his fingers go as your pleasure rises, blood heating at the thought of him fucking you on the bed later. Your breathing unevens when he twists his fingers and presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles as he pushes in another finger.

Your eyes cross in delight when he curls his fingers and hits that spot that sends electricity through your body, making you grab onto his built forearm. Azriel whispers promises of nasty scenes, promises of ways he’ll fuck you stupid. He’ll make sure you’ll never think he’d stray away from you. He’d prove himself forever if that’s what it took for the thoughts to leave your head forever.

Not sure what the mood is today, you ask him for permission to come. If you normally did it without asking, he’d edge you. And that was just not something you wanted to happen today so better safe than sorry. But before you gather your pleasured mind and ask him, Azriel beats you to it.

“Cum on me. Let go on my fingers, beautiful. It’s okay baby, you deserve it. Don’t you think? After all, my girl gets what she wants.”

As if his words triggered something in you, he pumps once, twice and you let go as you scream out his name. Azriel keeps fingering you through your high, looking you deep into your eyes as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them.

“Delicious.”

Your ears ring, and your vision blur as your knees wobble, nearly falling. Azriel swiftly picks you up, planting a reassuring kiss. He praise you, telling you how good you were and how proud he was. You couldn’t think straight, only wanting more of him.

He placed you gently on the bed, preparing to head to the bathroom for a cloth to clean you up, but you halted him with a request.

“Can I repay you Azzie?”

Your eyes sparkled, and your face glowed with a content smile. With a tilted head and a subtle pout, you hoped he would agree to your request. You were quite tired but you so badly wanted to please him back.

He sensed your exhaustion, and originally he was so supposed to keep going but you were half asleep. He changed his plans and shook his head.

“You’re tired, angel. Rest up, I’ll be fine.”

But you kept resisting, urging and pushing that you weren’t that tired. And since Azriel can’t say no to you, he accepts. You let out a small victorious sound and slither down the bed, making room for Azriel as he settled against the headboard. You moved in closer to him, leaning forward and arching your back. You look up at him once for confirmation and continue when he nods.

Without hesitation, Azriel's hands found their way into your hair, stroking your hair softly before skillfully gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. You fall on your forearms, propping yourself up and obediently await for his words of command.

Azriel gently gripped your chin, his thumb grazing your plump bottom lip. In that moment, words were unnecessary; you already understood what he wanted.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” His words makes you blush.

You look away from his intense eyes and lower your gaze, pulling a chuckle from him. “Baby, stop. You’re making me nervous,” you plead, giving him a cheesy smile you kiss his thigh and move on.

Trying to hide your flustered face, you start out slowly, teasing him with kitten licks all over his tip. Azriel’s hands tightened around your hair making you look up at him with a smirk as he grits out,

“Play later.”

You suck on the head, hollowing your cheeks, before slowly taking in more and more, struggling when you feel him hit the back of your throat. Your mind replays the lessons Azriel taught you, prompting you to inhale through your nose.

His head thrown back against the headboard as his mind swirls with pleasure. He lets out groans and hisses of pleasure, his deep voice letting out praises,

“Fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.”

“You’re doing so good, keep going.”

“My beautiful, beautiful y/n. You should look like this all the time, mouth full of my cock. Wouldn’t that be something?”

Your mates praise makes your eyes gloss over in submission. There was really no better feeling than being praised and loved by him. Your Azriel.

By the way the muscles in his thighs started tensing you knew he was getting close. You suck your cheeks in more and take him deeper, trying to please him as best as possible.

The room was filled with obscene noises and gags as he hit the back of your throat, bucking his hips.

Pulling away, you use your hand and twist it around his shaft while sucking on the sensitive head. Determined to make him finish, you throw in a few sentences you know will get him there faster.

“you’re so big Azzie, taste delicious too.”

“does my mouth feel good around your cock, az? you wanna cum?”

“let’s see if my pussy feels better, yeah?”

Before you can put him back around your mouth, he grabs your arms and drags you up so that you’re straddling his lap. Without warning he pushes you down on his cock as you let out a loud moan at the stretch.

“You’re right, your pussy does feel better.”

Your hands automatically grab onto his broad shoulders as you grind and bounce on him. You tighten around him as he brings his fingers down to your clit. Looking down on him, you find him smirking, satisfied that he caught you off guard. He knew you didn’t really plan on riding him but you were not fucking complaining.

Quite the opposite actually. You sounded like some deprived whore, moaning and babbling out in pleasure, licking and biting his neck and lips.

Both of you knew you were close. Azriel breathing quickened as you tightened around him.

“Tell me you’re mine.” A soft whimper escapes you as you gaze down at your man. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead, a rosy blush adorning his cheeks and neck. In his eyes, full of love and affection, as he whispers for the second time today that he's yours forever.

“I’m yours, forever baby, I’m yours.” Azriel chants as he comes, body trembling as you grind on him,soon falling off your high and slumping against his chest.

“I love you so much, honey,” you whispered.

You looked up at him, tears welling up as Azriel held you close, making you feel overwhelmed by the depth of love. The connection between you was an unbreakable thread, weaving through your souls. In his embrace, every touch and shared moment became a testament to the bond you shared. The room faded away as your love for Azriel became an emotional beacon, each tear carrying the weight of countless cherished memories.

Oh, how you loved him.

In the quiet of the moment, Azriel gently wiped away your tears, his eyes reflecting the same depth of emotion.

“I love you too, sweetheart” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your overwhelmed heart.

The reassurance in his words melted away the pain, leaving only the warmth of shared love.

#talkswithamara #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel acotar #acotar imagine #azriel x reader fluff #az x reader #azriel acowar #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acomaf #azriel acofas #azriel spymaster #azriel acosf #azriel x fem reader #azriel x female!reader

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navybrat817 · 1 year

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A Little Push

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't think he deserves to be with you, but gets a little push to speak up when he sees your ex. Word Count: Over 5.1k Warnings: E.S.C, unprotected (v)aginal (s)ex (wrap it before you tap it), shower (s)ex, jealousy, (f)lirting, insecurities, slight feels (it's me), idiotic Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) and an ex. A/N: For @drabblewithfrannybarnes and the gym prompt. I hope you like it! ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, banner by the lovely @sgt-seabass (and thank you!), and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wondered some days if he made the right choice by working for S.H.I.E.L.D.. While he didn’t consider himself to be completely standoffish as he recovered, no matter how much Sam tried to joke about that, he still had a difficult time getting along with some of the agents. It wasn’t for lack of trying. He attempted to strike up conversations with a few, but that only led to forced interactions and awkward silences.

He didn’t try much after that.

Maybe they didn’t trust him because of his past, even with the work he had done with the Avengers, even though he had no choice in his past actions. He wouldn’t hold that against them. He was even ready to accept that his circle of friends would remain small, which he didn’t mind.

But he hadn’t expected you to come along.

“You can sit with me if you’d like.”

At first, he thought you were talking to someone else until he realized your gaze was on him. He didn’t recognize you, but he remembered Steve saying that they were getting a transfer from another division. He hoped he wasn’t glaring or giving you an awkward stare, but your beautiful smile threw him for a loop. Unless he was with Steve and the others, no one asked him to sit with them.

But you did.

It took another moment for him to respond, but he took you up on your offer and joined you. He also picked up on the stares right away from the other agents, like they were jealous that he managed to get your attention. He didn’t blame them for wanting it.

Especially since the next smile you gave him made him fall in love a little more.

Maybe love at first sight does exist.

“Do you go by Bucky or James? I can call you Sarge if you want, Sergeant.”

You explained over breakfast that you transferred because you needed a change and were excited to take on some new tasks. He didn’t pick up on any bad intentions as you spoke with him. He found it easy to talk to you. You even got a couple of smiles out of him.

“Thanks for sitting with me. Do you want to have breakfast with me again tomorrow?”

Bucky accepted.

As the two of you grew closer, it became routine to grab breakfast together in the breakroom and chat quietly between reps when you worked out. He even shifted his schedule around so the two of you could exercise together. He looked forward to it.

And naturally on his path to continue making amends, he had to punish himself by thinking he wasn’t good enough for you. Because why would he be? You became an agent to help others and how many had he destroyed? Not by choice, never his choice, but he was still waging that war in his mind and heart.

“Will today finally be the day, Barnes?” Natasha asked as she finished her stretches.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky grumbled, his eyes flickering to the clock on the wall as he waited for you to enter the onsite gym.

“Yes, you do and let it be today, please. I can’t have Rogers winning the pool.”

“You’re taking bets, Romanoff?” he asked with a cold stare, as if the Black Widow would cower under his gaze. “Un-fucking-believable.”

He told Steve in confidence that he liked being around you. So, naturally, Sam and Natasha found out not long after that. Steve said more than once that Bucky wouldn’t be breaking any bylaws by dating you. Natasha added in passing that mixing business with pleasure didn’t seem to bother you as you had dated another agent sometime back before your transfer. An amicable breakup from what Sam heard.

For living in a world of spies and soldiers, no one could seem to keep their mouths shut.

“I’ll split the winnings with you,” she offered unapologetically. “You can use it to take her on a date. You do have something nice to wear that isn’t a Henley, right?”

The smartass remark he had on the tip of his tongue died when you walked through the door. Clad in your normal black tank top and leggings with your bag on your shoulder, he found himself staring the way he always did as you glided along the floor with confidence and a smile. A few heads turned to get a glimpse as you walked by.

But you directed your gaze at him.

“Hey, handsome,” you smiled, setting your bag and water down. You didn’t call anyone handsome or any other sort of nickname, except for him.

“Hi?”

Why did that come out as a question?

“Hopeless,” Natasha muttered softly enough for him to hear. “Hey.”

“Hey, Nat. How’s it going?”

His cheeks warmed as you began your stretches and chatted with the redhead, wanting nothing more than to put his hands on your hips and guide your body. He wanted to believe that you liked him enough for him to make a move. Why else would you keep getting breakfast with him?

And why else were you bending over right in front of him in a pair of leggings that looked like a second skin?

Fuck.

“Oh, I have your book in my bag,” you said, looking at him from between your legs. “Thanks for lending it to me.”

Thank fuck I’m upside down from your angle so you don’t see me staring at your ass.

Guilt crept in as he blinked. You were nothing but kind and accepting and here he was oogling over you. Why couldn’t he get it through his head that he was your friend and nothing more?

On the other hand, why couldn’t he get it through his head that he had the right to be happy?

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

“Do you mind spotting me?” you asked once you finished warming up. “Unless you plan to help Nat. I can wait.”

“Oh, no. I’m just here for entertainment,” she joked.

“Thanks,” you smiled, heading to the first machine with Bucky in tow. “Any plans this weekend?” you asked, checking the weight on the bar before you took a seat.

“No plans,” he said, taking his spot at the end of the bench so he could spot you. “Kind of a boring old man.”

“You’re not boring,” you said, winking as you laid back. “But I’ll give you old.”

“Rude,” he smiled as you giggled. “What about you?”

“Nope. No plans,” you answered, giving him a glance as you set your hands on the bar. “No plans at all.”

Are you giving me an opening?

“That’s too bad,” is what he said.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you said with quiet disappointment.

Sorry, Nat. Not winning the pool today because I’m a fucking idiot.

Bucky kept stealing glances at you as the two of you went through your normal workout routine, unable to figure out how you managed to look beautiful while lifting weights. The fact of the matter is you looked beautiful to him no matter what you did. He fluctuated between his heart stopping and losing his breath whenever he saw you. Especially when you smiled at him.

And he wouldn’t take that leap.

“You know what sounds really nice? A massage,” you said, setting the weight down to grab your water. He focused on your mouth as you brought the bottle to your lips, his fingers flexing as you swallowed once. Twice.

Are you giving me another opening?

Before Bucky could think of a suave reply, the door opened. A tall, dark haired agent he didn’t recognize walked in and did a slow sweep of the gym. From the quick assessment, he gathered that the guy was in shape. He didn’t necessarily walk through like he owned the place, but it bordered on cockiness.

I don’t even know him, so why do I want to punch his face in?

“Wait. Is that Nate?” you asked, your gaze following the man as Natasha silently walked over to join you. “What’s he doing here?”

Nate?

“You know him?” Bucky asked as the guy, Nate apparently, stopped to chat with someone by the mirrors.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, setting your water down and wiping your hands on your thighs as you avoided his gaze. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Ex-boyfriend?

“You two worked in the same division, didn’t you? Before you transferred?” Natasha asked. You nodded in reply. “It didn’t work out with you two, huh?”

“No, but it wasn’t a dramatic breakup or anything. No hard feelings,” you explained.

Bucky remembered Sam saying it was amicable, but he still felt the need to shield you away from your ex. Even if he hadn’t spotted you yet. Maybe he was ignoring you. That couldn’t be it. No one could ignore you.

Did you want him to notice you?

“That’s a shame,” Natasha said, swinging her gaze toward Bucky. “He’s cute.”

Traitor. Thought you were my friend.

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed.

Bucky grabbed the nearest barbell to get his head back into why he was in the gym in the first place, gritting his teeth so hard he was shocked they didn’t crack.

“And there’s this thing he used to do with his tongue that just…” you trailed off with a sigh.

The metal hand gripped the barbell tighter. Nate was an ex, not a current boyfriend. It didn’t work out for a reason.

“You need a moment?” the redhead asked.

“No, I just need to get laid,” you said, glancing at Bucky out of the corner of your eye.

If you need to get laid, I can help you with that. Not Nate or some other prick. They’re not worthy of touching you. Neither am I, but that’s not the fucking point. I can do things with my tongue that’ll make you see stars.

“Bucky?” you asked gently. “Are you okay?”

Far fucking from it.

“Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

You pointed to the barbell in his hands. “Because you just bent that in half.”

Glancing down at his hands, he saw that the stainless steel was indeed bent in half and ignored Natasha’s snort as he tried to fix it. “I was just testing the durability. It’s terrible. A health and safety hazard, really.”

“I didn’t realize your job involved quality assurance,” you teased as he set the piece of equipment down.

“It’s kind of a new hobby,” he said, a weird look crossing his face.

A new hobby? Really?

“Okay, Sarge,” you giggled.

Your laughter seemed to catch Nate’s attention since he immediately looked behind him. A look of realization crossed his features before he smiled. The look on his face made Bucky’s heart drop as he excused himself from the agent he was speaking to and made a beeline toward you. The man may not be your boyfriend anymore, but he still felt something for you.

Either that or the look of longing was easily faked.

“Hey!" Nate smiled as he stopped in front of you, opening his arms as he leaned in. "Good to see you."

“You, too. And you don’t want to do that,” you said, gesturing to yourself. “I’m all sweaty.”

“Never bothered me before,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. He met Bucky’s gaze over your shoulder with the smallest of smirks. “Smell just as good as I remember.”

“Don’t,” Natasha whispered to Bucky when the hug lingered for a few more seconds.

Bucky wasn’t planning on doing anything. Not right now, at least. Committing murder wasn’t on his “to do” list when he woke up today, but he was seconds away from snapping. Would you forgive him if he broke one of Nate’s bones?

“You must be Bucky,” Nate said once he released you.

He had to stop himself from shoving you behind his back. “You must be the ex,” he said, not bothering with any attempt to be friendly. “Why are you here?”

Nate either didn’t intimidate easily or he didn’t care. “You talked about me?” he teased, nudging you with his elbow.

“No, not really,” you smiled a little, raising an eyebrow at Bucky.

He tried to keep a straight face because he wasn’t jealous. He had no reason to be jealous. That certainly wasn’t the reason why his fingers began to twitch. Wasn’t the reason he wanted to knock Nate’s teeth in.

Not at all.

“To anwer your question, I accepted a transfer and was getting a look around the place. I was also here to exercise, but now I think I want to catch up,” he smiled, turning his attention back to you.

“You transferred here?” you asked in disbelief.

You don’t sound thrilled, which is a good sign, right?

“Yeah, I got promoted,” he explained, angling his body to put distance between you and Bucky. “You doing anything after this?”

“Me,” Bucky said before his brain caught up with his mouth.

Maybe you didn't hear me.

Your eyebrows shot up as you leaned around Nate to stare at Bucky. "I'm doing you?" you asked.

Fuck, you heard me.

"Yeah, Barnes. Is she doing you?" Natasha asked without a hint of humor in her tone as Nate glared over his shoulder.

"I mean," he cleared his throat as he tried to think of an excuse, which wasn't easy with three pairs of eyes on him. "She's hanging out with me. Movie night."

"It's not even nighttime," Nate said skeptically.

"It's an early movie night," he grumbled.

"Yeah, an early movie night," you agreed slowly. Bucky almost sighed in relief before you looked at Nate. "But we can catch up later, okay? Think my workout is over for now."

Bucky's mouth fell open when you went to grab your things. "But-"

"Movie night. I know. Thanks for your help," you smiled, but it seemed forced. "I'll see you later, Nat. And Nate."

"Later," Nate said, his gaze lingering as you headed toward the locker room. "She really is something, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is," Bucky agreed, staring after you, too. He couldn't argue with that.

"It's really nice that you two are friends," Nate smiled, clapping Bucky on the shoulder as his blood boiled. "Enjoy your movie night."

Natasha stepped in front of Bucky before he could go after the prick. "Do not," she said as Nate headed toward another machine.

"I have to do something," Bucky said because he was close to losing it.

"You really want to do something?" she asked, tilting her head toward the locker room. "Go talk to her. Please."

"Fine. I will," Bucky said, stepping around Natasha as he made up his mind.

"I meant when she was done!" she called after him.

Bucky stalked toward the locker room and pushed the double doors open. He took a breath as he walked through the first row of lockers and spotted you sitting on the bench. Was he making a big mistake?

"You lost?" you asked, removing one of your shoes.

He crossed his arms and shook his head as you took off the other shoe. "You didn't do a cool down."

You met his eyes and smiled. "That's why you came in here?"

"Did you know Nate would be here?" he blurted out.

Smooth.

You blinked slowly at him before you removed your socks. "Nope. And why would it matter if I did? He still works for this organization. Besides, we broke up and moved on."

"If he moved on, why was he smiling at you like that?" he accused.

You stood up with a shrug. "Because we get along? He's a friendly guy. That's just how he is."

"I know how guys smile at girls they like," he said. He knew because he smiled at you that way. "He's still into you."

The frown you gave him made him want to kiss it away before you giggled. "He is not into me anymore."

"Are you two going to date again?" he asked, taking two steps forward. You were still out of his reach. "I know I don't have the right to ask, but I have to know."

Because you're not my girl.

“No, you don't," you confirmed, your gaze softening as you shook your head. "But no, I’m not going to date him again. He's my ex for a reason and that's that."

Bucky inhaled and exhaled slowly, able to breathe a little easier.

"Why? Would it bother you if I did? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous. Bending the bar? Your not-so-subtle excuse for me not to hang out with him? Following me in here?"

The words got stuck in his throat as you waited for an answer, an expectant look on your face. Why was it so hard to say that it would bother him? It shouldn't because if that made you happy, he'd respect that.

Was it wrong that he wanted you to be happy with him and not some other guy?

You hung your head for a split second before you turned back to your locker. "Look, are you done grilling me or are you sticking around?" you asked, pulling your top over your head. "Because I have to shower."

"You think I won't follow you and finish this conversation?"

Your bra came off next. He knew that because you tossed the garment at his face and he was too stunned to catch it. It took him a moment to realize that you were facing him again, your breasts on display as you placed your hands on your hips.

A gentleman would have looked away. A good man would have left. But he was something else entirely and he couldn't stop staring at the vision of perfection in front of him.

"You're free to do whatever you want," you said casually as you spun around and shimmied out of your leggings. His eyes followed the curves as your underwear came off next and it took everything in him not to throw you across the bench and fuck you until you screamed his name. "But I told you. I have to shower."

Bucky didn't speak as you grabbed your towel and shower bag. You didn't bother covering up as you sauntered away from him, like being naked around him was a perfectly normal thing. He wanted it to be a normal thing.

Was that an invitation? Should he take it? Or was it a test?

"Fuck it," he mumbled as he kicked off his shoes and stripped, leaving his clothes next to yours as he searched for you again. If you ended up screaming or punching him, he'd accept that punishment and beg your forgiveness later. He let this go on long enough.

He froze when he saw you under the spray of the water, his cock twitching with interest as he watched the droplets slide from your chest to the vee between your legs. You had your eyes closed and he wasn't sure if he should call out to get your attention. He didn't want to frighten you and make you fall.

You gasped when you opened your eyes, but didn't make a move to cover yourself. He imagined this is what some men saw when a siren lured them out to sea. Beauty that they weren't worthy of looking upon, but too far gone to care as the tide swept them away.

"I guess you really want to finish that conversation?" you asked, your gaze dropping from his face to his chest and a bit lower.

Under your gaze, he wasn't afraid of you looking upon his scars. "I was jealous. I am jealous. I hated seeing him touch you," he admitted.

He wanted to replace Nate's touch with his own.

"There's nothing to be jealous of," you said, swallowing as he moved forward.

"Can't help it," he said, not blinking as he moved closer. "You also said I could do whatever I wanted."

"I did," you nodded.

His wide shoulders blocked some of the spray as he stepped into the shower and backed you against the wall. "What if I said I wanted to do you?"

Very fucking eloquent.

"I'd say it's about fucking time since I've been trying to get your attention and it better not be a joke," you said, placing your hands on his shoulders as your gaze went to his chest again.

You actually want me. Fuck.

He grasped your chin and lifted your head. The corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smile and his heart raced as his lips ghosted over yours. "You like me? And you want me to fuck you?"

He needed to hear you say it.

"I was hinting for you to ask me out this weekend. I thought it was obvious?" you asked, a small, vulnerable crack in your voice. "I like you, okay? I'm crazy about you. I have been since you sat down and had breakfast with me that first day and I-"

"I'm a fucking idiot," he whispered before his lips met yours.

His head spun as he kissed you unashamedly, unleashing the want he kept pent up for too long and showing no mercy as he swallowed down the moan you let out. His hands slid down to grip your ass, capturing another small sound in his mouth as he slipped his thigh between your legs. Now that it was out in the open, that you wanted him, he couldn't stop himself.

Unless you told him to.

"So, you like me, too?" you breathed out as he pressed kisses along your neck, your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust his knee against your wetness.

Gonna lose my fucking mind when I'm inside you.

"So much that I wanted to break Nate's fingers. Or his face," he told you, nipping over your pulse, but careful not to leave a mark. "Want you to forget all about that thing he does with his fucking tongue."

"You up for the challenge?" you teased before he growled.

"Up for it?" he asked as he slid a hand up to your chest, his thumb brushing over your nipple as you whimpered for him. "I'm gonna ruin you. That's a fucking promise."

"Do it. Please," you begged, bringing a hand down to brush your fingers along his thick cock. "Ruin me."

You already looked overwhelmed with pleasure, your eyes half lidded and mouth parted as Bucky moved his knee away and brought one of your legs around his hip. He wanted to fall to his knees and get a taste, but he'd claim you later with his tongue. "Not letting you go if I have you," he warned you, helping you stroke him.

"You better not," you said.

Bucky could've put his fingers under the water, but he brought them to his mouth to wet them before he slipped it between your legs. "You'll be mine," he said as he teased your hole.

"I'm already yours," you gasped as he carefully pushed a finger in and thrust slowly.

"Are you?" he asked, brushing his lips against your jaw as he slid a second finger in. "Fuck, you're tight. You may kill me."

"Yes, I'm yours. And I won't kill you, but I'll make you sorry if you don't fuck me," you huffed impatiently.

He chuckled as he removed his fingers, missing the heat of your body. He understood not wanting to wait any longer. He fucked his own hand enough nights as he thought of you to know that it wasn't enough.

"What if someone walks in?" he questioned, sucking his fingers clean with an obscene groan.

I can convince you to take a day off just to eat you out, right?

"I don't care!" you cried, your voice echoing in the stall as he moved the tip of his cock along your folds. You canted your hips as you tried to take him in and, fuck, if that didn't feed his ego. "If you don't fuck me, I swear I'll- AHH!"

He groaned as he slid home in one thrust, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls gripped him like your life depended on it. He took a deep breath so he didn't lose it on the second thrust. Your perfect pussy was his new home. He never wanted to leave.

"Fuck, baby, you're so needy. I think you want everyone to see that you're mine now," he groaned as he caressed your thigh and drove in deep. Your cunt welcomed each slide as he kept your hips still with his other hand. "Gonna fuck you so hard you won't walk for a week. The way I should've from the start."

"Don't hold back," you moaned, clenching lightly around him. "I can take it."

Bucky couldn't remember ever fucking someone so possessively. "Pussy's even better than I imagined. Made for me. Made for me to wreck."

"Fuck, yes," you cried in response. "Touched myself thinking of you fucking me."

"You fucked your perfect pussy thinking of me?" he asked, imagining your fingers deep inside you. "Moaned my name?"

"Yes," you replied, biting your lip. "Fingers aren't as big as you."

Fuck. There's only so much a man can take.

"Look so beautiful taking my cock. Gonna be so good to you," he grunted, his wet hair falling in front of his eyes. If he had to guess, he probably looked unhinged. Feral. Out of control. "Not letting you go."

Instead of looking afraid, you reached up and lightly threaded your fingers through his hair as your leg shook against his hip. "I won't let you."

He kissed you, almost delirious as the rush of pleasure began to take over. You took his hard, fast thrusts, the symphony of your cries and his moans adding to the sound of wet, slapping skin. Later, he'd make love to you, kiss over every square inch of your beautiful body. He'd tell how crazy he is about you. How you made him happy again.

For now, he needed you to scream his name for the whole gym to hear.

"I'm close, Bucky," you panted into his mouth. "Please."

He doubled his efforts, thrusting so hard he lost his breath with each snap of his hips. "If you're really mine, come. Come for me."

You nearly sobbed his name as you quivered around him, a wave of wetness coating his cock as he kept up his pace and fucked you through your orgasm. "Good girl," he praised as you went limp in his hold.

It was a beautiful sight. Your dazed expression, your cunt clenching with a fresh wave of wetness as you whined. A fucking vision.

"I'm gonna…" he warned, his muscles tensing up as he got closer to the edge.

"Come in me," you begged, tightening around him again. "Please, I need it."

Fuck.

Bucky spilled hot and thick inside you with a guttural moan as he let the ecstasy within him explode, relieved that you didn't make him leave the haven of your body. He was careful not to crush you against the wall as he tried to catch his breath and process that what just happened was real. It wasn't a dream or fantasy. He had you in his arms under the warm water.

Could've had this ages ago if I spoke up.

His lips found yours, his kiss softer than the previous ones. He wasn't sure how long he held you like that, but it was everything he dreamt of and everything he denied himself. He wouldn't do that again.

"You okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No," you smiled, your breathing still a bit tagged. "And I think I can still walk."

He growled playfully as he rolled his hips, thankful that he had the strength to keep holding you up. His stamina was good for some things. "Come to movie night and I'll make sure you don't walk. You did say you needed to get laid."

"I did say that," you smiled, nipping his bottom lip. "I'll do a movie night if you take me out on a real date."

"This weekend since neither of us have plans. I'd be a bad boyfriend if I didn't take care of you, right?" he asked, kissing the corner of your mouth to avoid your surprised gaze.

Pushed my luck this far. I can go a bit further.

"It's a date," you smiled.

Bucky smiled back as he reached over to shut the water off, wishing he could blame the warmth for the blush in his cheeks. "Sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass."

"I forgive you," you said, your nose nudging his.

"I just wanted you to have better," he whispered.

You deserve the best.

You blinked away the leftover pleasure that lingered in your eyes. "What? You're already the best guy I know, handsome. No one is better than you," you said, the sincerity in your eyes making his heart twist. "I know you'll be the best boyfriend for me."

Thank you.

"Well, as the best boyfriend, I think I owe you one more orgasm before we go," he smirked, his hands roaming your body. "If you're up for it."

"I'll take whatever you give me," you said before you smirked back. "But maybe I should thank Nate since he's the one who got your head out of your ass."

"Don't you fucking dare," he said, kissing you breathless before you could say his name again.

Bucky was your boyfriend now and the only name he wanted to tumble from your beautiful lips was his own. He'd do whatever he could to make that happen. And be the man you deserve.

Natasha watched from the corner of the gym as you and Bucky emerged from the locker room minutes later. You had stars in your eyes and Bucky looked over the moon. Your legs wobbled slightly and the soldier easily slid an arm around your waist to steady you and walk you out. He even threw Nate a smirk and a wink when he got a glimpse of the two of you.

The redhead messaged the group chat for the bet once the two of you were out of sight. "Locker room. I won."

"What? I was so close!" Steve messaged back.

"Cheater!" Sam sent. "I know you got her ex transferred here. Don't deny it."

"I did not get him transferred. I just knew and didn't tell them he'd be here today. I expect my payment at dinner tonight."

The redhead put her phone away as she tried not to smile. Bucky just needed a push and she wasn't afraid to play a little dirty. But she'd keep her word and split the winnings.

The two of you deserved a nice date, after all.

Oh, Bucky. Whatever will we do with you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #beefy!bucky barnes

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 1 year

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!"are we still friends?" kiss w/ inumaki!

prompt// heartbeat getting faster with every passing second, their hands on your waist, one coming up to your jaw, whispering your name softly, before just going for it. coming absolutely undone as your hand reaches to tug on their hair (prompt from @jasminesfury)

pairing// toge inumaki x gn!reader

word count// 1.8k

contents// jujutsu high is a college, inumaki communicates through sticky notes, inumaki uses his cursed technique to get what he wants, ooc inumaki ?

notes// these kissing prompts r too good not to use sorry not sorry! also yes him using his cursed technique was inspired by that one anon... also any information i say about a character's likes? or like favorite food, i get from jjk fandom wiki dont come for me if its not right ok baiiii <3

You and Inumaki are best friends— or were. Right now, he’s not quite sure where the two of you stand considering how you’ve been acting towards him lately. He and, quite frankly, anyone with eyes could see how uninterested you were acting toward him. You avoided his touch, kept conversations short, avoided eye contact, hell, you tried to avoid him all together—you were ignoring him. It wasn’t like you were doing it on purpose, though! …Okay, you definitely were, but you also definitely had a good reason to. The whole reason this started was because of last week.

You and Inumaki are best friends; you’d obviously take any chance you could to hang out with him, and you thought that was the only reason why—because he’s your best friend—but that day you quickly learned that was not the case. You and Inumaki sat under a tree in a random park. When the weather was nice and your schedules aligned, the two of you would often have picnics together. On these picnics, you two had this unspoken agreement of bringing each other food; he’d bring you what you liked or what he thought you’d like, and you’d do the same for him. You watch him intently as he places all the food he got for you near you, and you smile when he’s finished and is staring at you patiently, waiting for you to do the same.

You ignore his gaze and what he wants, instead tilting your head at him and asking, “What’s your favorite food?”

Inumaki’s face drops, and a pout replaces his previous faint smile as he pulls out a sticky note pad and scribbles, “Are you joking?”

You commit to the bit. “No, I’m serious! What’s your favorite food?”

You watch him fervently rip that note off to write on another one, “Wait, you seriously don’t know?”

The way he’s staring at you makes you relent. “Just humor me for a second Inumaki?” you plead with a soft smile, reassuring him that it’ll be worth it.

He stares at you curiously before nodding and writing, “Tuna mayo onigiri.”

You hum with a nod. “Right, thought so,” you say. “Guess what I have!”

Inumaki’s eyes light up as he excitedly taps his finger against the words he just wrote. His reaction doesn’t take you by surprise; you’ve seen him react like this plenty of times before. It’s what you love about him—how excited and happy he gets about things and isn’t afraid to show it—but something is different. The sun is shining on his face perfectly; it gleams off his eyes, and the way the wind slowly blows past and the trees and flowers behind him sway softly with his hair has you completely mesmerized. So mesmerized, in fact, that Inumaki had to practically shove the notepad in your face for you to even realize you were staring.

You shake your head as if shaking yourself out of your trance, silently acknowledging to yourself that it was odd, but you digress. “Sorry! But yes, I do have that for you!”

He drops the notepad and holds out his hand expectingly, and you giggle as you place the onigiri in his hand. He bows his head slightly at you to say thank you before he digs in, and you smile warmly at him.

“I’ve been trying to get it for you the past few picnics, but they were always out,” you say, frowning. “But today I went early, and they actually had some!”

He acknowledges you with a glance, and your heart skips a beat just from the brief moment that your eyes meet. You try to ignore it, though. You try to ignore how you can’t keep your eyes off him, the butterflies in your stomach, and how warm you feel. Maybe you’re getting sick? Yeah, that must be it. You don’t know how long you got distracted by simply admiring him, but by the time you came back to reality, he was done with his food and writing something on his sticky notes.

He holds up the notepad, asking, “Are you okay?”

You scoff slightly. “Of course I’m okay.”

He frowns at you before scribbling, “You haven’t touched any of your food.”

You look down at the food before returning your gaze to him and awkwardly smiling. “Ah yeah, just not all that hungry, Inumaki...”

You watch him study your face quickly before writing, "Are you sick?” He doesn't give you time to reply before placing the back of his hand on your forehead, and if you weren't already flustered before, you most definitely are now. You're too shocked by his actions to say anything, but it doesn’t matter when he's already scribbling a new sentence. “You feel warm.”

“I'm sure it's nothing, Inumaki,” you try to reassure.

He hands you a sticky note that says, “We should get you back to your dorm and stop for medicine on the way,” before beginning to pack up the left-over food.

You roll your eyes and place your hand over his to stop him, and the way he looks up at you has your brain going blank, so much so that he has to shoot you a questionable look in order for you to realize what you were doing.

You quickly remove your hand from his and clear your throat. “It’s fine, I promise. I probably just have to sleep it off, okay?”

Inumaki doesn't bother writing anything down and instead just stares at you blankly.

“If I'm still ‘sick’ by tomorrow, we can go get medicine, okay?”

He nods, ultimately accepting that answer, but he wishes he didn't because tomorrow never came. You didn't die, obviously, but you might as well have. You started ignoring him the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and... you get the point.

Inumaki has no idea what he did; he tried to ‘talk’ to you the best he could. He’d leave you sticky notes, and you would hardly acknowledge them or him. Did he do something wrong? He knows most people found him intimidating at first because of his cursed technique and were hesitant around him, but you never were, so why are you acting like it now? Maybe he came off too strongly; maybe you got suffocated being his only friend—well, not his only friend, but his closest friend; maybe you just had enough. Inumaki told himself he was just going to let whatever happens happen, but he couldn’t. So he said he'd find you after class and corner you if he really had to; you’re already ignoring him; what's the worst that could happen after that? But he couldn’t wait till after class tomorrow; he couldn't sleep; he just laid in bed anxiously, which is why he now finds himself standing at your door. He doesn’t think twice about knocking; he wants—no, he needs—to know why you're ignoring him.

You're surprised to see him there, and his twisted-up face makes your heart drop. You're not sure if he's worried, angry, or both.

“Inumaki, hey.” You’re afraid to look at him for too long, fearful that he’ll look back and figure out your feelings for him, so you leave the door open and start walking away. “Come in.”

He does so, shutting the door behind him. You’re a few feet away from him, so he tries to close the distance between you two, only for you to take the same number of steps back. Inumaki frowns and pulls out his sticky notes.

“Are we still friends?”

No, because you’d rather be more—if it isn't obvious by now, the entire reason you’ve been ignoring him is because you've finally realized how deeply in love with him you are.

You avoid his gaze and zero in on your floor instead, nervously laughing. “Of course, Inumaki, why wouldn't we be?”

You hear him scribble something down before the sticky pad shows up in your field of vision. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

You push his hand out of your vision. "No, I haven't.”

You hear more scribbling before one of his hands grabs your chin and lifts your head up to face him. Your eyes fluttered at the action, and you hope to god he didn't notice. He shakes the notepad in his other hand to draw your attention to it. “Yes, you have.”

You can't lie to him when it's like he's staring straight into your soul. “Okay, fine, maybe.”

Though you wish you did when his face drops and he slowly lets go of your jaw to write, “Why?”

You take a step back, and he takes one forward. “It doesn’t matter.”

He frowns and shakes his notepad slightly as if to emphasize his point, “Yes, it does.”

“It doesn't because I'm gonna stop ignoring you, okay?”

“But why were you ignoring me?” he scribbles frantically.

You sigh. “Just drop it, Inumaki, please?”

He shakes his head.

“Inumaki, just forget about it, and we can go back to normal, okay?”

He narrows his eyes at you and writes, “Just tell me! I won't get mad; I just want to know why.”

“Inumaki, seriously drop it,” you say as you turn to walk away, but you don't get far before you hear a clatter of Inumaki’s things hitting the floor, and he grabs your wrist, pulling you into him. He has your wrist to his chest, and your other hand is instinctively pressing against him, while his other hand is on your waist. You grow flustered by how you two are body-to-body, with no space to be found between the two of you, and you look at him wide-eyed, both of your breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. You're about to push yourself off of him or tell him to let go of you, but any thought of doing something vanishes the minute you see him start to open his mouth.

“Tell me,” he says softly yet firmly.

You can't even attempt to fight against his command as the words "I like you" pour out of your mouth against your will.

The minute the words leave your mouth, you go wide-eyed in shock from your confession, and from how he used his technique on you, he’s equally as wide-eyed. You try to yank your wrist free from his hold, but he has an iron grip on you no matter how hard you struggle.

You begin to murmur nervously, your voice trembling with embarrassment, "Inumaki-"

But your sentence is quickly cut short when he leans in. He hesitates for a moment before just going for it and kissing you. You don't kiss back at first in shock, but once you grasp what's going on, you quickly melt into the kiss, practically turning into liquid with the way your legs try to give out on you. You quickly tangle your free hand in his hair; he releases his grip on your wrist and places that hand on your waist as well, while you cradle his face with your newly freed hand. You two stand there kissing and holding each other for what seems like forever before he finally pulls away, both of you nearly panting.

“So, uh, does this mean we’re not friends or-“

3K notes · View notes

alphabetboyluvr · 9 months

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PALLADIUM - MYG

title credit: palladium- greyson chance

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut

synopsis:

min yoongi is urgent. in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent. the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.

wordcount: 3.2K

note from holly: this was a prompt from a winner of one of my kofi quizzes! was supposed to be a drabble but now we are looking at a lil three parter. no smut in this part, just setting up our dynamics <3 yoongi is a boy dad! idc! argue with the wall!!!!

PART TWO // PART THREE

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," Yoongi pleads across the bakery counter. Nails bitten down to the bed, he's got bags underneath his eyes. Hasn't been sleeping well these days. Hasn't really been sleeping at all.

"I told you last time—"

"I know, I know," he sighs, pushing off of the countertop and pacing a few steps away, raking a stressed palm through his long, dark hair. Dishevelled, he hasn't had it cut in a while. You'll never tell him, but you think it looks better this way. "Look, it's the last time. I promise. I just really fucked it this time."

With a raised brow, you fold your arms over your chest. The apron beneath you bunches a little awkwardly, but you've never cared much for composure around Yoongi. Have simply known him too long and seen him through too many clumsy stages of life to be bothered.

Tipping your head back, you exhale a sharp breath from the very depths of your lungs.

"You are so lucky Jaehyun is an angel baby," you eventually say, shaking your head as you reluctantly agree. "What time do you need me?"

"Deadline is at midnight," Yoongi says, "So whenever you can get to mine, really. Mum has him till seven, but then she's got Bitch'n'Stitch—"

"Hey," you scold. "My mum goes to that knitting group, too."

"I'm not calling her a bitch—but I've heard their conversations," Yoongi reminds you. He swears they don't actually do any knitting (as if they haven't handmade half of Jaehyun's closet). Thinks they spend the entire time gossiping. And while yes, they do do a lot of gossiping, they can multitask. Unlike him, apparently. "But fine. She has her knitting group at seven."

Yoongi will never simply call it a knitting group, if he can help it.

Bitch'n'Stitch is his go-to, but he's also partial to Stitching Hour.

Last week, you'd just gone on a rant about how it's inappropriate to insinuate that all women of a certain age from your small town are witches—"Women used to get burned at the stake, Yoongi. Burned!"—so he knows better than to say it out loud today, even if it makes him laugh whenever he thinks about them knitting on broomsticks.

"I'll probably be outta here at just gone six," you tell him.

It's the late shift, so you're responsible for closing and cleaning up, but after two years of part-time work alongside your studies, you're a dab hand. Can action off every item on the to-do list in record time, and to a standard even your boss can't achieve.

You're wasted on a small town like this, but someone's gotta do it.

"That's fine," Yoongi nods. "I just need to straighten this essay out and get my citations done. You can go as soon as I'm finished—and hey, you can order takeout. I'll pay."

Knowing Yoongi, he's probably surviving on instant noodles, and spending all of his money on Red Bull and Jaehyun's meticulously planned diet.

Jaehyun's been off formula for about two months, now, and Yoongi is terrified of feeding him the wrong thing. By the looks of his slightly skinnier-than-usual frame, he's the one in need of a good meal.

And so, as you're doing your final tasks of the day, you don't bin the breads that need to be chucked. Instead, you bag them up. All of them. The pastries, too. Will just have to hope Yoongi has freezer space.

By the time you make it home, you've only got ten minutes to spare for a quick shower before you need to rush to Yoongi's. You'll be a little after seven, but it's fine. You've resigned yourself to staying at Yoongi's until midnight, now.

It's how it usually goes.

He'll work up until his deadline, rewriting and revising paragraphs that are perfectly fine and need no alterations. His own worst critic, you know that he really doesn't need to stress himself out like this.

Still, he does. You think he'll always be this way—at least, he was in high school, and he remains to be this way, even in university. Too much of a habit has been formed. It's ingrained in the ridges of his brain. Pink and permanent—just like the pout on his lips as he opens his apartment door for you later that evening.

Forearm tucked under Jaehyun's pudgy thighs, Yoongi cradles his son into his side, as a look of relief relaxes onto his face. It's a stark reminder of why Yoongi stresses himself out so much.

You can afford to make mistakes. The only person you have to answer to is yourself.

Yoongi doesn't have that luxury anymore. Hasn't done for a while, now. Won't ever get it again—or at least, not for another seventeen years.

"Hey," he whispers, then casts his eyes down to Jaehyun's sleepy head. Nestling into Yoongi's shoulder, Jaehyun's dark hair now has a little length to it. Much like his own, Yoongi is refusing to cut it. Another thing he's scared of getting wrong.

The subtle nod Yoongi gestures towards Jaehyun is a request for you to be quiet.

You're familiar with his paternal habits by now; the behaviours he exhibits only when he's wearing his invisible 'Dad' hat.

He tucks back against the door, letting you walk on through and into his apartment.

Shoes off by the door, Yoongi locks up as you shake off your jacket, and hook it on the empty peg in the middle of the rack.

Small and a little dark, Yoongi hates his home. Is strapped for cash, so turned the open plan kitchen and sitting room into a studio-type set-up. Has his bed where a sofa should be, and manages to cram everything somewhere. His desk, his small keyboard, his clothing rail that he really needs to reorganise. A bunch of his things are in storage.

Jaehyun's room is what once was Yoongi's. It's got the most natural light, thanks to the window placement, not that it matters at this time of night. The curtains are drawn, playmat full of yellows and oranges scattered across the floor. Beside it, is Yoongi's laptop. The screensaver is running, and it's pretty obvious he'd been playing with the little toy octopus sprawled across the keyboard instead, when you had arrived.

"Bit late for nap time?" You question quietly as you pop your phone on the charging pad Yoongi keeps on the dresser.

Nodding, Yoongi gently rests his son down in his crib. These past couple of days, everything has been a little out of sync. He feels guilty—like he's failing—but the pressures he's been putting on himself are just getting far too great. He's doing the best he can, but it always feels like it's not enough.

But Jaehyun is loved, and sheltered, and provided for. Yoongi is doing all he can. He just still isn't sure he knows how to be a dad.

Which is silly, because as you watch him stroke across the dark hair that sits flat to Jaehyun's scalp, quietly monitoring his condition, you think that Yoongi was made for this. Is far more paternal than you are maternal.

Truth be told, you don't like kids all that much.

Your idea of a fun evening doesn't typically involve hanging out with an infant, and yet you'll do it for Yoongi. Of course, you will. Have known him for too long and have been through too much with him to not help him.

Plus, you really do adore Jaehyun. Sweet as can be when he sleeps, he really does look just like Yoongi at that age—or so you gather from the baby pictures you've seen a dozen times over at his parents' place. It's easier to count which features they don't share. Saves ever needing to do a paternity test, not that Yoongi would do one anyway.

Jaehyun is his kid. A little bit of DNA wouldn't change this fact, not in his eyes.

It worries you. Not because you think Yoongi isn't his father—again, they're too alike to not be related—but in case his mother decides she wants to play an active role in Jaehyun's life. You fear that the 1% of doubt could come true and tear any legal right away from Yoongi. You're not really sure how the courts would work it all out, but you doubt they'd side with him.

Yoongi was never meant to be a father. Not now, at least. The outcome of a one-night-stand, Jaehyun's biological mother didn't realise she was pregnant until it was too late. Had no real choice in the matter. Was also nearing the end of her tenure in law school. A kid was not—and remains to not be—a part of her plan.

You know the documents were signed. Legal rights, shit like that. Know that she must have an understanding of the law far greater than Yoongi. Just hope she hasn't done anything that will fuck him over in the future.

Still, it's not a topic of conversation Yoongi likes indulging in, and so you don't push, no matter how much you'd like to know the details.

"Let him sleep," Yoongi eventually sighs, before sinking down to lie on the rug. "Better he rests while I'm working—and plus, he slept through till five-thirty this morning."

"Till sunrise?" You chirp, a little surprised but conscious of keeping your voice down.

Yoongi nods, face rubbing against the carpet. "He's basically a teenager."

Rolling your eyes, you reach down for his wrist to drag him to his feet. He's got an essay to finish.

"Shut up," you smile. "You've barely stopped being a teenager."

Sometimes, it makes you a little sad to think that Yoongi is missing out on his early twenties—but then you glance across to Jaehyun and know that he's not missing anything. Just experiencing different things. That's all.

"Don't remind me," he grunts, lamely getting to his feet, letting you pull him down the hallway as you swipe the baby monitor that lives next to the charging pad. You'll come back for your phone later.

"C'mon, gotta finish your essay. Can't be a DILF unless you get this degree."

"Untrue."

"You'll just be a D without a good job," you tell him. "DILF's are always suited up."

"That's simply not true," he doubles down. "I've been told I'm a DILF at least, like, six times. Maybe more."

Definitely more. If he knew the way girls on campus spoke about him? God, his head would be so big he wouldn't be able to walk through doors.

But for now, you shoo him back through Jaehyun's bedroom door and to his sitting room-come-bedroom. The apartment isn't large. A baby monitor isn't needed, yet one is set up by Yoongi's bed, regardless.

And so, as Yoongi knuckles down with his work, you flop onto his bed, and take prime babysitting position—though you're pretty sure you'd get fired if you ever got under anyone else's sheets on the job.

But it's late, and you've worked a long shift. You're only gonna rest your eyes for a moment. A second. A fraction of one, even. Just to hydrate them a little. Replenish your—

You're out like a light.

The curse of Min Yoongi's bedsheets. You really should have known better. It happens every damn time. You know this. He knows this.

Yet when he eventually wakes you, neither of you mention it.

"Hey," Yoongi mumbles as he gently nudges your sleepy body. Flopping down beside you on top of the duvet, his exhausted eyes close instantaneously.

"I'm going, I'm going," you grumble into his duvet, half asleep but knowing that you should go and check on Jaehyun.

The baby monitor hasn't made any noise to wake you, and Yoongi's just been with him for the last twenty minutes, quietly watching on as he slept. Is pretty confident he's gonna sleep through again tonight.

Reaching out to pat you down, Yoongi doesn't really acknowledge the way he accidentally taps your ass. Nor do you. Just sort of pretend that he didn't. Pretend that it didn't make your heart race a little.

"S'fine," he says, voice muffled by his need for rest. "He's still sleeping. Just checked on him."

"Sure?"

"Mhm," Yoongi nods, the sound of his hair smooth against his sheets. "You gonna crash here?"

"You all done?" You question right back. Shuffle, and his hand lazily moves with you. His wrist now rests on your hip, and you both pretend like it's normal.

"All done," he confirms. "Was late, so I've lost ten percent, but whatever."

For someone who stresses himself out as much as Yoongi does over his grades, as soon as he's hit the submission button, he just ceases to care. Has a 'what'll be, will be' attitude towards it all. Part of you wishes he would adopt that mentality when he's actually writing his essays.

What you don't realise is that it manifests from the same fear.

He panics and panics and panics before a deadline—and then is so worried about his grade that he just pretends like they don't exist.

Too sleepy to care at this moment in time, Yoongi's placement of his wrist on your hip becomes more intentional. Deliberate.

It's not like you're a stranger to the weight of Yoongi's arms draped over your body. Not like it's the first time—it's just every time it does happen, you swear it'll be the last.

It never is.

And it's not like it's anything illicit. Not anything you shouldn't be doing. Nothing that takes you beyond the realms of friendship—but it does threaten the integrity of your oldest connection to another human outside of familial ties.

So every time Yoongi gets a little too close, or you find yourself lingering a little long on his words, you tell yourself to stop. That this is just a symptom of the dry spell you've been going through.

"Are you staying here tonight?" He asks.

Again, it wouldn't be the first time. Have been having sleepovers with him since you were kids. Ghost stories, midnight feasts. Sneaking out to the park to find UFOs and stopping by the corner shop for snacks.

Once high school hit, it was deemed unwise by your parents. Open door policy.

You'd been furious. Outraged that your privacy was being taken from you, and being told it was for your own good.

And so sneaking out the park became sneaking in windows; films watched with headphones on, dinner eaten in your bedroom under the guise of a melodramatic teenage strop, but actually shared with the boy from two doors down who knew better than to deceive your parents.

All innocent. Nothing that required a closed door. Those escapades were saved for—or wasted on—other people. Either, or. Neither you nor Yoongi gave it much thought. Why would you?

Friends, is what you were. What you are. What you always have been.

Which begs the question: why the fuck is Yoongi looking at you like that?

But then the wrist of Yoongi's resting on your hip becomes his hand. The grip becomes intentional. The stillness of your body comes not from tiredness, but from trepidation.

"Do you want me to?"

"It's late," he husks, thumb stroking against your hip as if that's what friends do. "You're off tomorrow, right? Don't need to go home?"

"Right."

"Well, then stay," he shrugs, loosening his grip to roll onto his back. The ceiling is far less interesting than you are, but he has to stop looking at your lips and wondering if they taste like the strawberry lip balm you'd tossed on the side cabinet earlier. "Makes sense."

"Stay?" You question as if he still needs to clearly outline that, yes, he'd like you to stay. "And do what?"

"Sleep," he dryly replies, because it's the obvious answer. Because it's what you should do. You're tired. He's tired. Jaehyun is asleep in the next room over.

"Sleep," you nod. "Sounds good."

Domestication becomes you in times like these. A toothbrush sits in an old glass on the top shelf of Yoongi's mirrored bathroom cabinet. The rest of the shelves are pretty much empty, but he always puts it up there. Says it annoys him anywhere else.

"Surely it's more annoying having to get it down for me every time I crash here?" You banter with him as you lean against the back wall of his bathroom, waiting for him to retrieve it.

Plucking it from the glass, Yoongi is swift with his movements, and the way he wets the brush, puts a pearl of toothpaste on the bristles, then hands it back over to you.

"Doesn't bother me," he shrugs, turning back around to shut the cabinet. When he does, he's greeted with your eyes in the mirror, and a feeling in his stomach that should bother him.

See, the D in Yoongi's DILF actually stands for dependable (although occasionally dickhead also fits). He likes being asked to do things. Likes being helpful. Useful. Knows that he depends on you far more than you do him, and so he does this to settle the score.

You help him pass his exams, and he helps you keep good dental hygiene habits. A win-win situation.

Leaving you to finish washing up, Yoongi does the final checks of his apartment. Bolts the door. Turns out the lights. Makes sure Jaehyun's day bag is packed for tomorrow with his Grandma. Adds the day's clothes to the laundry pile. Stands in the doorframe of Jaehyun's room to just simply watch his son exist for a little while longer.

He loses track of time doing this. It's a nightly routine, so you think he'd get used to it, but he never does. Still can't fully comprehend that a living, breathing creature relies on him for basic survival.

Sure, he hides your toothbrush away, and puts things out of reach for you just to get you asking him for help, but this is different. He cares about nothing more than making sure Jaehyun is surrounded by abundance: love, shelter, food. Everything the world has to offer, Yoongi wants for his son—and that's why he's working so damn hard to make sure it happens.

There's a tenderness to how Yoongi strokes your back when you stand beside him. He's far gentler than he used to be. Benevolent with age. Isn't the same kid who used to chase you around his parent's yard with a worm in one hand, and a pile of mud in the other.

"C'mon," you whisper, walking away because you know you need to break the contact. "Let's rest."

Yoongi nods. Is slow as he tears his gaze from his son, but just as stoic as he watches you saunter down the hallway and into your bedroom for the night. His bedroom.

You slip out of sight, just in time for Yoongi to exhale the air in his lungs. His sigh is full of unspoken words. Uncertain terms—and as he follows you down, he wonders how many more secrets will bloat his lungs throughout the night.

981 notes · View notes

suguru-getos · 6 months

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Fluffcember with Satoru Gojo

Prompt: Reassurances

Summary: You are in the early phases of your relationship with Satoru where you haven't even kissed each other yet. Taking things comfortingly and achingly slow. Unfortunately for you, you’re reminded of his ‘Uncommitted Fuckboy’ & he reassures you through it. Warnings: None really, just extreme fluff and comfort and Satoru being a care-giver and a Daddy pro max!

Your brother came back from a gathering of sorts, it was all related to Jujutsu High and being a third-year there, he was privy to a lot of information you weren’t. Though now that you’re dating his Sensei without actually telling him, your questions & curiosities have increased a tenfold. “So, how was your day?”

Your brother came in, opened the fridge like a racoon in a dumpster & took out a Coke zero, clearly tired & a tad annoyed. “S’ good.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Something very funny happened today.”

You irked a brow, mostly all the funny things are related to your now boyfriend. "What happened?" You asked, curiosity bubbling behind your eyes.

"There's this sorcerer- her name's Mei Mei, she flirts with Sensei so hard it's hilarious!" He cackled, manspreading on the dining table seat after microwaving the sandwich and sighed. "She was all like- 'of course Satoru kun, you can help me can't you?' because she was assigned a mission which was seemingly hard." You felt a pang of anxiety touch your chest at that, nodding with a faked smile. Can't show your brother you're affected by this after all.

"H-heh, funny… what did he say?" You inquired, and your brother shrugged. "Said he would help." You bite your lip, of course- Satoru is not someone to refuse his aid to anyone. Even you knew that about him… but clearly, did he not pick up the signals? "Shyeah- of course." You waved your hand dismissively. "I think they have done it definitely." Your brother snickers. "I mean- Sensei is so popular I'm sure all the female sorcerers would've wanted a piece of him." He groans, "So annoying to me though."

You smiled, not able to maintain this conversation without it affecting your core. Satoru was gorgeous, he could pick a finger at anything and would get that for himself. There was absolutely no doubt about it. Which is why… it's concerning as to why he is dating someone like you. Someone so normal, someone miles away from the Jujutsu world. Someone who had no place in his world. He was utterly sweet to you as well. So far you haven't had any arguments with him either. A defeated sigh escaped your parted lips as the thoughts multiplied and cluttered your mind. You went to your room to sulk. As if being a Corporate baddie wasn't enough. Now you also need to take account of what's happening in Jujutsu world with your boyfriend. Sickening…

As if to balm your insecurity with reassurance, Satoru's name flashed on your phone screen in a phone call. "Hello.." You answered the phone hesitantly.

"Oh hello Little One! How are ya? Just checkin' up on you. Hope you don't mind that mm?" "No, not at all, I've just come home from work. How are you?" You tried to sound as normal as you can, the lower octave of your voice not gone unnoticed despite you stiffening yourself up to sound as normal as you can. "Something the matter Princess?" The nickname slipped out of his lips so easily, right now you wonder if it's so easy because its meaningless. "Nah, nothing's the matter. My brother just came home you know? So I was just talking to him about er- school and stuff." You answered half-truth. Satoru's head tilted to the side, tongue clicking. "Something that pissed you off?" He asked softly, and you nodded your head yes, but your voice lied. "Nah, s' al good. Don't worry. Maybe I'm just really tired you know?" "Mhm, gotcha~ maybe, you are tired… you know what can help? A sugar rush." Satoru snickered over the phone and you sighed. There is no way you can escape this man's gaze if you were to meet him right now. "Nah, really tired. Headachey too…" You excuse yourself, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut at the silence on the other side. "Alright, take rest." Satoru sounded genial and soft, and with that you heard the beep of the call disconnecting.

You were starting to get angry at yourself, why does it even matter. You two haven't even been together for a month yet. This is truly pathetic…

You shoved all the thoughts off your head, journalling them off. Whatever… who cares. Yeah, whatever…

The next few days you tried your best to ignore Satoru, picking up his calls and answering in one-word sentences, declining his proposal to meet for dates or to just catch-up. Until you finally saw him one day at your home. You gasped, blinking when you opened the door and found him manspreading on the couch as if he owned the place.

"Sah- Satoru what`" "He's just here to be a nuisance." Your brother's voice chimed in from his room. "He needs something from me." You glanced at Satoru, who quickly removed his blindfold and made sure his eyes stared right into you. "Well, not my fault you can't search for the scroll I handed to you brats." He shrugged, of course an excuse… he wanted to come and see you. "Hello, Y/N san!" He chirped excitedly, and you waved him a Hello right back; gulping. "How have you been?" Satoru asked again, you nodded with a half-smile. "I'm good, Gojo San, are you good, too?" "No, I'm not… and you know why." His tone was soft, tender, as if he didn't want the pressure of his words to get to you.

"I- I see…" You looked down at your feet, looking back up at him. "You said you'll work late today." He almost whispered, shit- you completely forgot about that excuse you made for him,

"Oh yeah- ahem, well yeah… I will freshen up and login again." You grinned, trying to save your sorry ass.

"No" Satoru simply denied your statement.

"You are going to freshen up, and then utter why you're behaving this way." He didn't sound easy this time, you were hearing him speak to you sternly and seriously for the first time ever. You can't blame him though, he's worried… and it only warms your heart more that he is worried.

Before you could open your mouth, your brother came back to the drawing room. Stomping and giving him the damned scroll. Ugh- timing!

"Jaa- see you two!" He grinned, head-patting your brother and looking into your eyes.

Before you could say anything further, you found yourself back in your room. Answering his call…

"Are you getting out of the house or should I carry you out myself in front of your brother?" Satoru almost sung, and you knew there was a tad bit of a truth laced to that threat.

"I'm getting out." You rolled your eyes.

"Aw, that's a good girl."

The moment you were outside, Satoru teleported beside you, hand intertwining with yours and helping you walk in fucking air. You blinked, not registering how this is happening. It was like invisible stairs that take you to the breath-taking sky. Stars have just started to pop up as the night blanket wraps the city of Tokyo.

"What's bothering my baddie?" Satoru hums, and before you could answer, he interrupted again. "Don't say nothing else I'll start being really paranoid and restless, that's no good is it?" He coos, leaning in to make you feel more comfortable.

You finally decided to speak up, pouting and telling him everything about Mei Mei and what your brother told you. Then telling him how that made you feel truly.

He chuckles, rolling his eyes and cupping your face preciously. You blinked, taken aback by the sudden stance of affection but not leaning away. You wanted this… you wanted him to touch you, to soothe your worries away. "I can't believe my silly little girl would be so stressed about something like this It's nothing. Even if Mei Mei flirted, I would never return her affections or anyone else's." He smiled, "You know why? Cause I really want no one else but you Little One. I would never lose this." His eyes observed you once more, hands squeezing your face tenderly. "For something meaningless… I would never do anything to risk this, never. I promise you."

His words echoed in your ears and you couldn't help but nod a little with a smile. "Sorry- I just, you know it's not been a lot of time to us and-"

"So what!" Satoru giggles, "Time is a construct, and definitely not a measuring parameter when you're dating someone like me. Or if I am dating someone as amazing and kind and yet, fierce and firm as you." He winked.

"I promise you sweet Princess, I would never, ever… let anyone near me." His sincerity touches your heart, and you leaned in, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

"Aw! I get a hug! Good sign!" Satoru beams, kissing the crown of your head and rubbing your arms comfortingly.

"Let me show you now the skyline looks, neh?"

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withahappyrefrain · 2 months

Note

For the ship ask game!

48. …out of habit + a bob of your choice!

This prompt screams secret relationship, and what better Bob to do that with than Cobalt Eyes & Sweet Smiles Bob?

Bob knew he shouldn't be jealous. You weren't paying Jake any attention as he bragged about the latest air maneuver he mastered. Your eyes were focused on putting together a burger.

Soon enough, one of your fathers' old Top Gun classmates would whisk you away, no doubt to marvel at how much you had grown up, reminiscing on how you used to toddle around at this yearly cookout.

The worst part was Bob couldn't even be mad at Jake. Because he told Jake that all that happened after you two met was that he walked you to your car.

Which was partly true. Bob did walk you to your car. And then exchanged numbers after making out in said car. Which led to going on a date, which led to Bob secretly dating you.

Turns out, dating the daughter of your bosses is complicated.

Once the current mission was over, it would be easier to come forward. And decidedly less weird to think about.

Though Bob was still worried that once the secret was out in the open, he'd wake up the next day to find he's been deployed to Australia.

So all Bob could do was sip on his diet Coke as he tried not watch Jake fail at hitting on his girlfriend.

"I'm going to go...." Your eyes lingered on Bob. God, he looked so good in that blue shirt, it was unfair. But wouldn't that be too obvious?

"Somewhere that isn't here," you finished, walking away before Jake could even speak. The temptation to tell the blonde pilot you were dating Bob grew stronger everyday.

But Jake also had a big mouth and seemed like the kind of dick to mention something to one of your dads, if not both.

Technically, you weren't breaking their rule. They said no pilots and Bob wasn't a pilot. He was a WSO.

But it certainly made things awkward as Bob was working with Dad. And Pa was his boss.

Well, wanting to get away from Jake Seresin wouldn't raise anyone's suspicions.

Bob tried to hide his excitement when you stood next to him. He tried to act casual, but nothing could hide that smile of his.

Not that you mind. In fact, his sweet expression sent warmth throughout your body.

"Got tired of hearing how much better he is than everyone else?" Bob joked, causing you to nearly choke on your burger.

"The best don't brag, they let their work speak for themselves," you explained, a sly smile on your face. It was so hard not to make eye contact with him. Truly unfair how he had eyes bluer than the ocean, deeper than the sky-

"Is it too much if I asked you to accompany me to the Hot Dog station? Figured it would be nice to have someone who understands all the toppings." With that lopsided smile, how could you say no?

"It is an intimidating amount of choices," you chuckled as you led him over to the station.

"Alright, so I know it sounds weird, but the Olivier-Russian potato salad- that Pa makes is actually pretty good. The chili Slider makes is good, but unless you have a stomach of steel only take a little. Oh, and Hollywood says the candied jalapeños are mostly sweet but that's a lie. It's mostly spicy."

Bob couldn't help but be memorized as you rattled off facts about the various condiments. Whether it was about work, a personal belief, or yes, even hot dog toppings, you always spoke with such passion.

He loved it. He loved you, but that conversation is still a few steps away.

For now, Bob was happy to settle for counting down the days until he could hold your hand in a gathering like today's. Even if it terrified him.

Yes, technically, he wasn't a pilot. But considering who your dads were, a technicality didn't bring Bob much hope.

According to Bradley, the idea of you dating someone in the military, much less a naval pilot, had been vocally met with disdain.

But today Bob wouldn't focus on that. Instead, he focused on your bright smile and how cute you looked in that sundress.

"What's your go-to?" He asked, ready to take the valuable information to heart.

"Chili with some of the candied jalapenos and a dash of ketchup."

"No mustard?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You had to stifle a laugh, "No mustard."

"Alright, I trust ya." His words, laced with a slight twang sent warmth throughout your body.

Without saying a word, you took the ladle from the chili bowl, serving it onto his hot dog. You gave him a sweet smile as an explanation, one that Bob took happily.

"Thanks darlin'," He leaned in to peck your lips, neither of you thinking about it.

It wasn't until he broke away to grab the ketchup that you both froze, realization washing over you.

Fuck.

"I'm gonna, um, go." You said quickly, grabbing your plate.

"Uh yeah, good idea," Bob quickly put down the ketchup, turning around to walk away from you. His face was bright red as he practically ran back to Mickey and Natasha who were currently chatting up with some of Pete and Tom's old classmates.

You looked around, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. No one standing in shock.

Alright, good. That was a good sign.

"Hey, did you see that?" You asked Bradley, who had been roped into grill duty.

"See what?" Your pseudo-brother shrugged, his eyes remaining on the grill, unaware that you were on the verge of having a panic attack.

"Bob and I kissed. It was an accident, like neither of us thought about it! It just felt natural and we forgot where we were!" You hissed.

Bradley was the only one who knew. The first time Bob spent the night at your place, the universe decided that Bradley should be the one to pick you up for family brunch. In hindsight, better he than one of your dads. Thankfully, you had enough dirt on Bradley to buy his silence.

"Oh," Bradley shrugged, as if it was nothing. Truthfully, he didn't know why you two insisted on keeping it a secret. It wasn't like you were dating Hangman (thank fucking God for that).

"I didn't notice anything," He said, which accurately reassured you.

"Although...." His words made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

"Although?" You gritted through your teeth.

"I mean, that would explain why Slider was running into the house. I thought he just had to piss."

God. Dammit.

"You good Bob?" Mickey asked upon seeing his fellow WSO, beet-faced and nervous.

"Huh? Oh! Me? Yeah, I'm great. Swell actually!" Bob said, unconvincingly.

Natasha knew Bob was dating you. It was obvious when you showed up to one of the beach football games. How anyone else failed to notice was beyond Nat.

But she knew not to say anything. Instead, she gave Bob a raised eyebrow. Whatever it was (concerning you), she knew it was better to ask in private.

"Lieutenant Floyd? May I speak with you in private?"

Bob's blood ran cold as he turned to face Captain Mitchell, who had his arms crossed.

"Um, I..." He could pretend to pass out. There was no current or former medic here. So he would just need to play dead as if his life depended on it, because it did. Claim it was from the heat. Yeah. Blame the sun, he was pale enough to do so.

But his knees were locked. Bob couldn't run, couldn't pretend to pass out. Fuck, it was too early to fake food poisoning.

So instead, all he could muster up was a weak nod as his legs carried him inside the Mitchell-Kazansky house.

He was fucked. Utterly fucked. He should just leave now so he can go pack up for Australia. Would he even get that far? He had been sneaking around with their daughter, death was probably the only option.

Even if your dads didn't kill him, your honorary uncles will. Fuck, was his will updated? Would you even get anything? Well, Bob did tell Bradley to give you the ring in his drawer should anything happen to him. It was his grandma's, given to him so he had a ring to propose and-

Why was the Admiral whose callsign was literally "Iceman" hugging him?

"Thank God it's you. We thought she was seeing Seresin."

Oh.

That explains a lot.

"Um, no offense sir, but you raised your daughter to have better standards than Seresin," Bob barely got out, now receiving a hug from the much shorter Captain.

"We knew she was seeing someone. We're all glad it's you."

When you ran into your childhood home, you were expecting many things. Mainly Bob's head on the floor.

Receiving hugs from your dads was not on the list, but man was it a welcoming sight.

Bradley shrugged, "I don't know why you were so worried about them knowing."

You rolled your eyes, "The same reason why you haven't told them you have a fiancé."

Wait shit, that was not supposed to be said out loud.

"You have a what?"

#my writing #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x female reader #robert Bob floyd

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spiderfunkz · 18 days

Note

heyy could you do a peter parker blurb based on him asking you out on the last day of school? i love ur writing btw

✧ LOVE ON A LAST DAY.

summary : someone has a pretty crush on you!

word count : 0,7k

contains : fluff, fem!reader, super cutesy stuff.

a/n : next month i'll be graduating so this prompt is actually perfect omg omg, thank u for requesting anon i hope u like this !!! 🤭 i used the word 'smile' so much in this i apologize

"hey, peter!"

you waved cheerfully,

it was the last day of school. the final bell just rang and everyone is running out of the building yelling, cheering, crying, and smiling. papers were scattered, pens fell out of backpacks, shirts were signed, and flowers were exchanged.

you were going to hangout with your friends but that's when you spot peter at the end of the hall. hair messy, backpack full, his hands were in his pocket, he looked very nervous.

but you weren't going to leave him alone like that, it's been a while since you two have catched up.

you have been friends since middle-school, but as friends do, they drift apart, though you've never lost that spark with peter. you loved his company & he loved yours.

"hi!" peter waved.

you catch up to him, "hey, i didn't see you anywhere today! you haven't gotten a chance to sign my jacket yet. here," you pass a marker.

"i saved you a spot to sign." he nods, signing it.

you smile, "aw, this looks perfect."

he smiles too, he seems to be very smiley every time he's around you.

sometimes he forgets that you can see how much he smiles when he's near you, or how you can see that he's clearly staring at you.

"what? do i have something on my face?" you rub your cheek,

"oh, no. no you don't, sorry."

"you sure?"

he nods.

"you're weirdly quiet. you okay? i'm still going to the same college as you if that's what you're worrying about," you giggle.

peter has always loved how easy you are to talk to. in a way that there's never awkward pauses between conversations, and how your smile makes everything feel so calm and nice.

"i know. i just, uh-" he fiddles with something in his pocket, "there's something i wanna say, if that's okay."

"yeah, why wouldn't it not be okay?"

he shakes his head, smiling.

he passes you a picture from his pocket along with a small flower he picked.

you take it, your hand softly brushing his hand for a second.

it was a picture he took 2 months ago. you remember the day very well.

it was hot, awfully hot for new york. there were no clouds, the skies were clear and everybody was talking about it. how eager they are to take a walk and how excited they are to enjoy time outside.

though you and peter wanted nothing more but to stay inside, but this doesn't happen everyday. so why not try your best to enjoy it?

you were at the park and just finished your 2nd cup of lemonade (it was peter's), peter brought his camera for memories. your hair kept sticking to your face and it didn't help that you were smiling a ton so it got in your lipgloss as well.

suddenly wind came and flew past you. the air felt cool for a second and your hair went all over your face, you still smiled though.

peter saw and took a picture immediately, the sun perfectly leaving a glow on your hair, also giving your lips a nice glow.

"did you just take a picture?" he quickly shook his head, "yes you did! let me see!" — "no! i know you're just gonna delete it."

you finally saw the picture. at the bottom you can see a handwritten note on it. a beautiful day with the most beautiful girl!

"peter, this is so cute. you- you took this?" you asked, he nods shyly.

you couldn't hide the fact that your face grew red. "i was wondering... if maybe the most beautiful girl in the world would like to maybe.. like to.. go out with me sometimes..?"

peter said, whispering the last few words, looking down at his shoes, the doodled converses you once drew on.

you smile, "i'd love to."

he looks up, shocked. "really?"

"yeah! i mean all of this coming from the most prettiest, talented, caring boy in the world? how could i say no?" you smile, teasingly.

peter smiles.

he thinks for a second before taking the small flower from your hands and tucking it behind your ear, "pretty." he says, stated actually.

"so are you going to walk me home now, most beautiful boy in the world?" you ask. he nods almost immediately, "absolutely, most perfect girl in the world."

you walk outside the building, your hand holding his.

"just so you know i'm gonna draw a big red heart around your signature on my jacket."

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saythenametotheworld · 2 months

Text

Message in a Bottle [1]

Genre: strangers to lovers; fluff; slow burn Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Reader Warnings: mature themes, pining, sloooow burn, suggestive Notes: 19.7k words, song prompt was Message in a Bottle by Taylor Swift. Synopsis: Seungcheol likes his coffee dark and iced; you like yours creamy smooth and searing hot. Your differences, mutual interests, and love for coffee bring you close together. It was all fun and games until you fell madly in love with a Choi Seungcheol whose heart still belonged to someone else.

It was crowded when you went for your usual coffee run at the cafe across the street from your university. The rain was pouring hard and for you, the unexpected downpour was today's bad luck because you didn't have an umbrella with you. Fortunately, your jacket kept you warm and some nice schoolmate shared her umbrella with you on your way to the cafe. The ambiance is nice, like always and you're thinking about staying until the rain passes, maybe catching up on the book you were reading. But judging by the number of people present in the cafe right then, you figured you wouldn't have a chance to even open a book. Initially, you assumed most of these people were taking a quick shelter because of the rain, but when you noticed the large number of girls with their giggles and chatters, you figured out what was going on. Today is Saturday, the day when the cute part-timer will be here. Of course, you should have expected the place to be full with zero vacancies.

Right then, you spotted a corner table where a guy sat quietly by himself, a book covering his face as he read. You grimaced at the way he was holding the book at eye level with one hand. To you, that's the most uncomfortable way to read, especially with a hardcover book. But hey, each to his own, right? You shouldn't judge people just because their ways aren't what you're used to. Especially right now when you're in dire need of a seat and he has a table for two by himself.

"Hi, excuse me? Are you alone? Do you mind if I sit here?" you pleaded, your tray heavy in your hand and not because of its actual weight but because you were being really careful not to spill the mug of hot coffee. The guy didn't even look up from his book when he dragged his glass slightly towards him, a gesture telling you he was making space for you on the table. "Oh, thanks, you're a lifesaver!"

You set your tray down and placed your orders on the table before a service crew came over to take the tray. As you settled down, you fished the Kindle from your bag, glancing at his book to see what he was reading. "The Republic by Plato? Are you a student here?"

He peered at you over the book, lowering it slightly to reveal a set of big, round, dark brown eyes and arched eyebrows. You grinned sheepishly, now realizing that your attempt at small talk was a bad idea. First, he probably wanted some peace and quiet, too immersed in his book and didn't want to be disturbed; second, you're not even fond of making casual conversations with strangers in the first place.

"Oh, sorry. I had to read the same book last semester for class so I just assumed you're a student here too," you explained.

"You're a senior?" he asked, lowering the book on the table for a moment. You were able to take a good look at his face which bears somewhat exotic but good-looking features. He had a prominent nose, and pouty lips that caused his jaw to clench when they were pursed. "That's a requirement for senior Political Sciences students."

"Yeah! Yes, I am," you smiled, nodding as you stirred your steaming coffee so you had an excuse not to look him in the eyes. He seemed older than you, you could tell by the way he was sitting and his manner of speaking. Also because of the way he's not dressed like guys your age. "How about you?"

That was your low-key attempt at asking his age.

"I graduated a few years ago," he shrugged before taking his iced coffee and sipping from the glass straw.

"Ah, I see, you're an oppa," you noted, nodding again as you blew on your cup. You stopped in your tracks, realizing belatedly the implication of your reply. You looked up at him and sure enough, he had a confused smile on his lips. You briskly sat up and shook your head and hands at him. "No, no, I mean, like you're older than me. That's all. I'm not trying to flirt or anything."

He just nodded with his eyebrows, smiling wider with his lips together before returning to his book. "What's your name?"

You fumbled with the thoughts in your head, suddenly forgetting your own name upon being asked what it was. After clearing your throat to silence your crazed brain, you told him your name and threw in that you're a senior Linguistics student.

"Linguistics have Plato?" he asked, referring to the subject you mentioned a while ago.

"No, but I took an elective."

"Hmmh, you seem to have plenty of time," he replied, eyes still glued on his book. "Seungcheol."

"Huh?"

His eyes fluttered to you. "My name. It's Choi Seungcheol."

"Oh, I wasn't ask— I mean, yeah, nice to meet you, Seungcheol-nim."

Seungcheol flattened his lips together in a smile before shifting his gaze back to the book. You smiled back, although his eyes had already left you. After that brief exchange, you both plunged into your own worlds, reading books in two different mediums, immersing yourselves in two different types of literature, and drinking coffee at two different temperatures. The little nook you shared was quiet, even with the chattering around the cafe and the consistent giggling when the handsome part-timer would smile at a random someone among the customers. You were so immersed in your own little world that you lost track of time, only realizing how long you've been sitting there when you touched your cup and it has gone cold. Seungcheol's spot in front of you is empty. The rain has stopped too, leaving a mist behind that fogged the glass.

"Okay. I will stop here because I have self-control and John Green will still be here when I come back to it," you whispered to yourself, like a mantra to keep yourself from using up all of your time doing something you consider to be unproductive.

As you tucked away your reading tablet, you spotted a piece of untouched donut on the table and a note with it that said: It was nice to meet you, Y/N. - SC

"You ate it? You ate it?!" Seolhee, your roommate, hollered at you when you told her about meeting Seungcheol and the donut he left for you. "You ate a donut from a stranger?"

"Technically, he's no longer a stranger. I already knew him when he gave me that."

"Yeah, for three hours!"

You sighed, lying on the couch. "You're missing the point."

"No, you're missing the point. You ate food left to you by a stranger. What if he was some creepy old guy who's slipping chemicals on women's food and then abducts them?"

"Okay. You do have a point," you told her, sitting back up again. "But first, he's not creepy old, maybe like three or four years older. Second, it was at The Coffeehouse. What kind of psycho kidnapper would abduct women in broad daylight and in a crowded cafe? And third, he just didn't strike me as a bad guy. I mean, he seemed completely normal, educated even. And you know I have a good eye for people."

"Yes, you have. But you can't entrust your safety to intuition alone. For all we know, it could be a ploy. Get you to warm up to him before he abducts you and leaves you in a ditch, naked and lifeless."

You shook your head. Criminal Psychology had Seolhee thinking the worst things about people, but you don't blame her because she obviously had a point and you were admittedly being naive when you did what you did. Still, you stood by your initial impression of Choi Seungcheol; he's a decent guy.

"So, is he handsome?" Yoori asked, just as she had finished doing her makeup in front of the mirror.

"Yoori!" Seolhee chided but your other roommate just shrugged.

"What? If you're wrong, and he really was a decent guy, then we have to know if he was good-looking enough for our girl."

"Why does that matter?" Seolhee questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because he might have a crush on her. He left y/n a donut and a note. That's something a guy won't do unless he has a reason to."

"He's old."

"No, he's just a little older," Yoori corrected, jumping over to your side of the couch. "So, how much older is he? You know, older guys are way more attractive. They're mature and open-minded. Sometimes they can be a little intense too, but that's the best thing about them."

"Intense?" you asked and she scooted closer to whisper in your ear.

"Oh, you know..." In a lower but clearly audible voice, she said, "Intense and experienced."

"Okay. You're done," Seolhee announced, tapping your shoulder repeatedly. "Get up and go to bed. You have class."

But Yoori grabbed your head and locked it in a hug. "Hey, don't baby my y/n. She's old enough for that conversation! She even brought a guy here before!"

You slipped away from her grasp and ran to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you as you heard them bicker. It's one thing to live with roommates, but it's another when said roommates are two people with different personalities who are dating steadily. Seolhee and Yoori are such people. You liked living with them but ever since you moved in, they started treating you like their very own daughter even when you're literally the same age. You gotta admit though, it feels good to be taken care of.

Your coffee runs went on as usual; just dropping by to grab a cup and then leaving. Sitting around a cafe isn't really something you habitually do, especially when you're alone. Even though you were curious about Seungcheol, you never thought about sharing a table with him again or turning your spontaneous acquaintance into an actual friendly relationship. Admittedly though, each time you went to the cafe, you found yourself looking around to see if he was there but so far you haven't seen him again since that one rainy Saturday. You assumed he wasn't a regular but it could also be the timing of your visits. Either way, he only ever crossed your mind when you're at the cafe. Then two weeks in, it got to a point where your eyes automatically scanned the cafe in search of him and when you realized that you had subconsciously associated him with the cafe, you felt like a foolish teenager with a massive crush on someone.

"I gotta stop doing that," you chided yourself after you walked inside the cafe and did your routine quick scan of the place.

"Doing what?" Yoori asked, both her and Seolhee casting curious gazes at you.

You shook your head and nervously replied with the first excuse you came up with, "Talking to myself."

You looked for a vacant table while your roommates ordered the food. As you did, you spotted the corner table you shared with Seungcheol and found him sitting there by himself, reading a book. Seeing him there made your heart race, an unfamiliar kind of nervousness creeping into your chest. Seungcheol looked unfamiliar too, as if it was the first time you'd laid eyes on him. But then again, you never really got the chance to get to know him properly, let alone take the time to familiarize what he looks like.

"Who's that?" you heard Seolhee ask and only then did you realize you were staring at Seungcheol.

"No one," you said briskly, sounding defensive. You folded when Seolhee gave you a skeptical gaze. "I mean, someone. That's the guy I told you about. Choi Seungcheol."

"Choi Seungcheol?" Seolhee grimaced but Yoori gasped. "That name rings a bell."

"Seungcheol? The donut guy?" asked Yoori to whom you responded with a nod. "Well, isn't he a looker?"

"He is, but stop looking. You guys are embarrassing," you scolded quietly, tugging Yoori's hand to sit her down. You talked about random stuff for a while, eating your second breakfast between conversations. Yoori, however, can't seem to get over seeing Seungcheol for the first time.

"You should go say hi to him or something," she chimed when she caught you staring in his direction for the nth time. You chuckled incredulously, acting like you just heard a ridiculous suggestion.

"Why should I?" you questioned, hiding your nervousness behind your mug as you sipped from it.

"You can't stop looking over there. You might as well just approach him."

You didn't, of course. But you saw him stand up and get ready to leave. Just as he was passing by your table, he gave you a smile and an acknowledging nod that you returned politely. It was a fleeting exchange, almost unnoticed but you knew your friends saw that. As soon as he was far enough, Seolhee tapped your arm.

"I know that guy. Choi Seungcheol, was it? He's friends with the professor I am currently working for as a TA," she announced.

"He is?" you questioned, glancing briefly at Seungcheol who's now standing by the doorway, chatting a coffeeshop staff. "Does he teach?"

Seolhee crossed her arms over her chest, thinking. "I don't think so. From what I know, he's probably a lawyer or something. He graduated law school here three years ago and he's older than us by... five years, I think?"

"How do you know all that?" asked Yoori.

"I told you, he's friends with the prof. He comes by sometimes and they chat. Sometimes I hear them talking so I pick up things. They seem close too. They're probably related."

You just shrugged, intrigued to know a little about him but you're also less curious now that you know he's not only older but old enough to have a decent job and have his life figured out. Now that you've thought about it, you realize he's an intellectual. He went to law school, reads Plato to pass the time, and even has a professor for a friend. You can claim yourself to be an academic but not to that extent. Choi Seungcheol is in a different league and your tiny little crush on him faded after finding out how much gap the two of you have, both in age and way of life. You don't even want to begin imagining the possibility that he's wealthy too.

Studying is hard, but for someone who's got nothing else going on with her life, you've grown to love school and studying. College life gave you enough to live a fun life; classes, friends, and hobbies, even dreams and aspirations. It has its advantages but it also has its drawbacks that you dislike so much, like deadlines and homework. As you sat on a tall stool by the long window table at The Coffeehouse, you glared at the words on your computer, muttering curses under your breath. It was late in the evening when you arrived with heavy feet, having no choice but to do your homework here because your roommates had a little party going on in your shared apartment. You had a written task you forgot about and only remembered when a friend from the same class mentioned it to you earlier that evening. Now you have to pull an all-nighter to finish a ten-page in-depth analysis of a famous speech. Is it possible to finish in one night what would have taken at least two days to complete? You blew the hair out of your face again, squinting at the words while a part of the speech played on a loop through your earphones. You could swear you've memorized every word uttered by this person, even the timing of the pauses and the occasional clearing of his throat. If this goes on, you'd go nuts. Time check, 12:45 midnight.

"Okay! Four pages: done, six more to go," you blurted, stretching your arms to start typing again. Downing more of your hot coffee, you focused on the sounds from your earphones. Oblivious to your surroundings, you have cut yourself off from the world, eyes not leaving your screen while you type everything that comes to mind. And when you finally wrote the last line for your paper, you raised your hands in the air to celebrate. Even boasting to yourself when you see the time. "2:15? See, finished it in five hours, no sweat."

You pulled the earphones out of your ears, breathing a sigh of relief as you reached for your cup. Only then did you notice several empty cups sitting next to the warm one you just touched. A strange thing to see because you don't remember ordering this many. Come to think of it, you never ordered a refill but your coffee stayed warm and full the whole time you were working.

"You did great," said the man sitting one chair away. You recognized Seungcheol, eyes fixed on his book while leaning on the backrest of the stool.

"Seungcheol-nim..." you trailed off, wondering if you were right to think he had been reordering your coffee while you were working on your assignment. "Have you been here the whole time?"

His eyes fluttered over to the empty cups and to you, then back to his book. "I was here before you."

"No way, have you been refilling my cup?" you questioned when you noticed that he was drinking iced coffee.

He flipped a page and exhaled. "You look like you could use a few more cups while working," he replied.

You felt your cheeks flare, making you stare into your computer screen then shut your eyes to calm down. If there's one thing you're shy to admit, it's the fact that your heart is fragile for even the smallest acts of service. Imagine this much thoughtfulness from someone you just met? And someone really attractive at that? You'd be head over heels in no time! That can't happen!

"Why though?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "You were too passionate with what you're doing. I was touched."

You weren't sure if he was joking but that made you laugh. "Well, thanks? I guess? I appreciate it."

He gave you a brief glance and nodded. "Anytime."

You looked around the cafe, taking notice of the students with their laptops and sleepy eyes fixated on their screens. It was quiet but you could almost hear the chaos in your fellow students' heads as they worked and studied. Other customers were just lounging, but most of the people there were college students.

"Wow, this place looks miserable," you sighed, returning to your own laptop to save your work. "I guess it's true what they said about this cafe."

"What do they say?" asked Seungcheol, closing his book and crossing his arms over his chest. He looked warm in his brown coat, and you were reminded of the age gap again when you compared his coat to your cartoon sweater. Does he not even dress casually when he lounges at a cafe late at night?

"They say this place becomes a graveyard after midnight," you replied, chuckling. "I mean, every student looks close to dying. Including me."

Seungcheol smiled. "Back in my day, this was a pork belly barbecue restaurant."

"It was?" you questioned, genuinely amazed. But then a snort came out of your mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh. It's just that you sounded so old when you said, 'Back in my day'."

Seungcheol chuckled this time. "To be fair, it has been a while and this place looks nothing like it did before. Here, let me show you."

He fished his phone from his coat's pocket and toggled on his screen for a moment before leaning closer to show you a photo. It was of him with some other people and he looked younger in it. You assumed it was when he was still in college and took notice of the place around him. It was a bit shabby, with smoke around, writing on the walls, and barbecue tables all around. It looks nothing like the posh and clean interior of the cafe now.

"This was six years ago while I was in undergrad school. Different, isn't it?"

You nodded in agreement, genuinely impressed by his revelation. "It is. Hard to believe this was the same building." You looked around the cafe. "What happened to that restaurant?"

"The owner passed away a few years back," he replied. "The building was renovated shortly after."

"Well, damn. That got sad pretty fast." You flattened your lips together. "You looked cute when you were a student though."

Your last comment made Seungcheol chuckle. "Thanks?" he replied, sounding unconvinced.

"Right, by the way, if you don't mind me asking," you began, moving to occupy the seat between the two of you. "What do you do for a living?"

"What do I do?"

You nodded with enthusiasm. "Yeah. I have this friend who said you were close with a professor she was assisting. I got curious about your job because you have this academic vibe."

Seungcheol's shoulders rocked as he laughed. "Do I now?"

You smiled sheepishly. "No, not really. But you seem like one. Given your choice of books and professor friend."

He nodded affirmatively. "I can see how you came to that conclusion."

"See, even the way you talk is intelligent," you commented and that seemed to have caught him off-guard, making him laugh shyly and look away for a second.

"Do you always speak that way?"

Your hands flew over your mouth, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Why? How do I speak?"

"Like you're empowering people by praising them too much," he replied. "Or do you do it unknowingly?"

"Is that how I sounded? Wow, that explains a lot of things," you blurted, recalling all the times you got unwanted attention from guys who claimed you were flirting with them.

"Like what?"

"What?" you retorted, refusing to answer honestly.

"Never mind, but to answer your question, I'm not really an academic, whatever you think that is." He paused and appeared to hesitate before saying, "I'm a liar."

"A lawyer?"

"No, a liar."

"Yes, a lawyer," you repeated, chuckling as you took a sip from your still-warm cup of coffee. "I figured that much after finding out you went to law school."

"You know an awful lot about me," he quipped so you shook your head in denial.

"No. Just that bit." You paused, realizing you knew more than that bit. "And your professor friend. And maybe your... age... too..."

"My age? Were you curious about my age?"

Yes. "No," you lied, laughing derisively. "It just came up during the one time when we talked about you. Once."

Seungcheol chuckled heartily. "Alright, if you say so."

You were still reeling in embarrassment when your phone buzzed, signaling a message from Yoori. She was asking if you're still out and when you'd be back so you took that as your cue to leave.

"I have to go. It's way past my bedtime," you quipped, pointing at your wristwatch. That prompted Seungcheol to check his too.

"Yeah, looks like it." He smiled at you, a friendly smile that you knew you'd be seeing again sometime. "Good luck with your assignment."

"Ugh, don't remind me." You rolled your eyes as you finished packing up your stuff. "See you around, Seungcheol-nim."

Your little meet-ups with Seungcheol were spontaneous and mostly happened when you least expected it. But over time, you got familiar with his patterns and found out he was there at random but at specific times of day; either late in the morning or late at night. Most of the time, you catch him there late in the morning, in the quiet nook he seemed to have reserved for himself or the long table by the windows. Whenever he sees you walk in by yourself, he offers to share his table where you would lose track of time just talking. The subjects of your conversations were random, often mundane but interesting enough to keep discussing. In these encounters, you found out how, despite your differences in preferences, you share common interests in literature, coffee, and music. He still speaks like an older guy, and his insights were interesting. More often than not, your opinions agree with each other. On the rare occasions when it doesn't, you're always the first to call him out, sparking a friendly debate that lets you in on his deep thoughts about the matter. While the age gap isn't that much and most people his age are good enough with technology and trends, Seungcheol admits he does not indulge too much in such things. This became something you would always tease him about.

"Is this seat taken?" you asked the moment you caught him by himself at his usual table. He panicked at your arrival, closing his book at once and hiding it under his hands.

"No classes today?" he casually asked but you already have your eyes on the book he was hiding. You sat across from him and placed your stuff on the vacant chair.

"Not until 2:30. What's that you got there?" you hinted, grinning mischievously before trying to snatch it. Seungcheol was quick to hide it and pretended not to know what you meant, looking around stupidly. "You don't have to hide it. I know that book. I saw it when I came in. I thought you're not a fan of romance novels?"

Seungcheol quietly took the book out of his coat and placed it on the table with a flustered expression. "I'm not but I do read a few. And this is a good book."

You grimaced. "Wait till you finish reading it."

"I have actually. I like to re-read this from time to time," he confessed, clearing his throat as if he was embarrassed to say what he just said.

Now you're straight-up giving him a judging gaze. "No, you don't."

"I do."

"But it's terrible. The author portrayed love in the most clichéd way possible and she wrote the most boring main character ever with no character development and ended up leaving everything behind for a guy. She started as a damsel in distress that needed saving and she stayed that way until a macho male character saved her. So boring."

"I disagree. The story is set in the 1500s when opportunities were scarce for women. She was denied a lot of things and had to live a life mapped out for her by society and other people. Her love interest was a man with access to limitless privileges. And while I do admire headstrong and independent female protagonists, I also think it's alright to get out of a bad place with someone else's help."

"I have to admit, that's a good point. But that's not the only problem. The author wrote a perfect love interest. He's too nice and charismatic. Also consistent and cares about her thoughts et cetera. He's too good to be true. And the way he pined for her and never gave up on her? Unrealistic! That's where I draw the line."

"I thought you didn't finish it?" he teased. "You seem to know the story better than I do."

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest. "I had to force myself to finish it because it was for an assignment. I remember writing an analysis and a vicious critique on it."

"Did your professor agree with you though?"

"Hah! Of course not! But she still gave me a good grade for my work. Her insights were the same as yours, actually. Obviously, people can have different opinions about the same things. So, you're entitled to your own opinions just as I am to mine," you replied, chiming as you recalled that particular time in your life.

"Have you ever been in love?" he asked, as if challenging you to argue your claim.

"I have. That's why I know the author made a fantasy version of love."

"You don't know that. What's fantasy to you might be reality for her. Or to whoever it was that she got the inspiration from."

You scoffed, "Seungcheol-nim, love is subjective. You can continue enjoying that book. You don't have to convince me. My last relationship showed me an entirely different version of romance. While he seemed like the man from the novel at the very beginning, with his handwritten letters and sweet-smelling flowers, it took him four months to show his true colors. He dated three women while we were together. Three! And we're all from the same university!"

Seungcheol looked appalled. "He did?"

"Yes! Gosh, he was an absolute jerk. I always wondered how he got away with it for that long."

"That's relatable, somehow," he commented, making you snigger.

"What? You got cheated on too?" you asked but then you saw him hesitate so you shook your hands at him. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to. I'm only comfortable telling you about my ex because I believe more people should know what a scumbag he is."

He laughed upon hearing that. "Alright, but did that last relationship change how you think about love at all?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and confidently said, "Of course not. All I got from that experience was that he was a jerk, and love is a different experience each time. I know not everyone will treat me the same way. I've had good relationships before that."

"If any of it were good, it wouldn't have ended and you wouldn't have met your last ex." His comment made you scowl and snicker.

"So you're like a love expert now?" you teased so he laughed heartily. "I mean, I had no idea I could talk to you about love and romances like this."

"Honestly? Me too," he laughed, tapping the book on the table. "This book has this effect on me, I guess."

After a few more criticisms about the book, you and Seungcheol let the hours tick by just talking. Lunchtime came soon enough and you had to leave first because you made plans with some friends to eat lunch together.

"Ah, can I get your number?" he asked just as you were about to leave. He handed his phone to you and added, "If you don't mind."

"Yeah, sure," you told him, taking his cell to type in your number. You've been talking and hanging out with Seungcheol for almost a month already, but this is the first time he asked you for your number. Not that he has to because you two never really needed to talk remotely. Thinking about it now, you don't really have anything to talk about on the phone. Maybe that's why he never asked for your number before nor did you wonder why you don't have his. Sure, you follow each other on social media, but asking for your number means you are closer now and will probably start texting each other.

You were right. When you got home after school that day, you received a text message from him, introducing himself and asking you to save his phone number. Turns out Seungcheol is going out of town for work and wants to keep in touch.

Seungcheol: Execs are boring. I could use someone to talk to.

You: it's okay to admit that you chose me because you don't have other friends

You grinned mischievously after sending your reply, happy to tease him. You once asked him why he's always alone when you find him in the cafe and the subject ended with you concluding that he had no friends. It has since become an inside joke between the two of you that you would sometimes tease him about.

Seungcheol: I do have friends but I'll admit I enjoy our talks more than with any of them.

You: Okay, Seungcheol-nim.

Seungcheol: Speak comfortably, y/n. You don't have to keep calling me Seungcheol-nim.

You: ??? You: I'm used to it now tho You: It would be weird to start calling you oppa LOL

Seungcheol: Why is that weird? I'm older so technically, I am your oppa.

Shock triggered your hand to lose grip on your phone and send it falling on your forehead, making you yelp and sit up from the bed. Groaning, you pressed the throbbing space between your eyebrows and picked up the device to reread Seungcheol's message.

"Wow," you sneered. "Choi Seungcheol, you handsome specimen, you better not be flirting with me."

You: Alright, then, Seungcheol-oppa.

"Because I will flirt right back," you mumbled, unable to hide your grin.

You had no idea at the time that your little nook in the cafe was about to expand and take up a bigger space in your lives.

Texting Seungcheol was funny to you because it eerily felt like an email correspondence. He sounded serious all the time and formatted his texts in a standard manner. He's too formal and rarely ever used emojis. He reacts with a plain 'hahaha' and the best you can get out of him is a 'lol'. It was probably because he's a lawyer; the formal nature of his job must have influenced even his basic activities, like casual chatting and texting. Surely it has to be that because there is no way he's too old to know how to use emojis or any slang. After all, five years ain't that much of a gap.

Seungcheol: Yes, it is extremely boring but this will all be over tomorrow so I'm holding out.

You: damn You: 1 more day of listening to old men talk all day? You: couldn't be me. You: I'd be gone on the first day. props to you for surviving the past three days tho

Seungcheol: lol hahaha

"Eh? Did he really just 'lol hahaha' me?" You squinted at your screen, glaring too much that you thought your eyes might bore a hole through your phone. Your thumb tapped the call button before pressing the device to your ear.

Seungcheol picked up almost immediately, clearing his throat on the other line before greeting you with a "Hello?"

"Is now a bad time for a call?"

"The day is over and I'm in my suite now so no, it's not a bad time."

You nodded, although he couldn't see it. "Good. My fingers are tired," you lied because you thought it would be rude to tell him you can't handle any more of his boring standard text formatting.

"Really? You could just tell me, you know. We can call it a day. Get some rest. Talk again tomorrow."

His voice reverberated beautifully in your ears; calm, well-articulated, and soothing, like mellow music playing in a cafe. That alone was enough for your heart to feel at ease but he just said you can talk again tomorrow. He's saying he wants to continue your little chats. He's enjoying your company even though it's only through the phone. Maybe you're right, but maybe you're reading too much on something that has no meaning at all. Either way, your heart swelled with excitement and joy along with a tiny ache that you can't explain. You knew this feeling since you've felt it before. The friendship you have with Seungcheol is starting to make your heart flutter.

"Hah!" you scoffed at your own thoughts. "Alright then. Good night, Seungcheol-nim."

"Or we could talk now too! Now!" he blurted in a panic, making you laugh. "I mean, if you're not tired yet. We could keep talking. Isn't this better than texting?"

"It is," you agreed. "But what can I do? It's already past my bedtime."

Seungcheol chuckled. "I thought your bedtime was at 3?"

"It's constantly changing. It's the era of drastic changes, Seungcheol-nim. Adaptability is a good edge," you jested. You can hear him laughing from the other side and couldn't help grinning to yourself. He sounded so humored that you felt a little proud of your wit.

"Right," he said as he stopped laughing and cleared his throat. "So is it your bedtime yet or what?"

"No. My bedtime changed thirty seconds ago. Adaptability, you know."

He went on to laugh again, making you grin fondly. It wasn't even that funny but he's laughing like he's in a standup bar or something. Either way, the sound that's filling your ears is also making your heart feel full.

The next morning, Seolhee complained about you being a tad too loud last night with your laughter and giggling. That caught you off-guard, making you hide your phone after sending a reply to Seungcheol's message.

"Sorry. I was on the phone with someone," you confessed, scrunching your nose cutely as you watched Seolhee take her seat on the dining table.

"Have you started seeing someone again?" she speculated. "You talked for hours last night so it must be serious."

You shook your head. "No, duh. It's just Seungcheol-nim."

"Choi Seungcheol?" Yoori asked, placing a plate of side dishes on the table. "You're dating Seungcheol now? Good for you, girl!"

"What? No!" you strongly denied. "We were just talking. It was a friendly chat."

"Friendly chats don't go on until past midnight, y/n," Seolhee hinted, giving you a knowing look. "Whatever it is that you think have with him right now, you better confirm it before you go falling for him. I know he's charming and all that but safeguard your heart."

Yoori hummed affirmatively. "She's right but falling for him is not that bad an idea. He seemed nice."

"He does seem nice but you have to first make sure you're on the same page. The earlier you know, the better. You can't wait until you've fallen for him before you ask what his intentions are."

You would never bring up relationships with Seungcheol, especially between the two of you. It would only make things awkward between you if it turns out he was just being friendly and even more so if you find out that he was looking to date you. Why? He is a wonderful guy, but there are a lot of things to consider. You don't know his background despite knowing his hobbies, his dislikes, his habits, etc. You can't help but think Cheol had been hiding behind a persona the whole time or that he isn't willing to properly open up to you. Sure, you're up close and personal, but there's a fine line between who he is with you and who he is as a person. Somehow it felt like you knew a lot about him but not enough to really know who he is.

So you sat in front of your computer, looking through his Instagram account for any clue about his life. Based on the dates of his posts, he rarely updated his feed and probably never used the site that much. He had random pictures posted there but he didn't have one of himself except on a handful of group pictures. His profile picture isn't even of himself but a dog.

"So he has a pet, huh?" you mumbled, smiling at the pictures of a cute Maltese dog. "Of course, he has one. He looked like the kind who would have one. I wonder who takes care of it when he's away or when he's at work."

You were still scrolling through his posts when your phone buzzed, signaling a message. It was Seungcheol. "Wow, you really should not speak of the devil."

Seungcheol: Any plans tomorrow night? I have two tickets to a concert. You can have the other one if you want it.

You grimaced. "Or you could just invite me to go with you like a normal person."

You pouted as you thought about what to say but then something in your mind clicked, sending your heart on a rampage. Could it be that he's inviting you to go with him? Obviously, he is, right? He said he had two tickets and he'll give you one. That's it, right? That's the invite!

"Oh lord," you blurted, closing your laptop and tucking it into your bag before you went running out of the cafe. You typed in a hurried reply as you walked briskly back to your shared apartment.

Barging into your apartment and closing the door with a loud slam, you stared wide-eyed at Seolhee and Yoori who looked back at you curiously.

"I think Seungcheol-oppa just invited me out on a date."

"And?" Seolhee asked while Yoori was suppressing excited squeals.

"And I might have said 'yes'."

Seolhee was stern about your ambiguity. You said you were invited, but you also said it wasn't an explicit invitation. Still, she helped you prepare for the date along with Yoori who was just leaping with joy.

"Remember, he didn't say it was a date. So don't overthink it," Seolhe told you while styling your hair on the night of said date. "As long as he doesn't say it out loud, there is no real relationship between you other than a friendly relationship."

"Remember also to enjoy the night," Yoori interjected. "Don't let negativity ruin the experience."

“Now, where is he? Didn’t he say he’d pick you up?” Seolhee asked as soon as you were ready to leave. Dressing up took a while because you couldn’t decide which dress to wear and what look to go with. It’s a classical music concert and the dress code was black tie. Thankfully, your roommates were eager to help.

“He should be here by now,” you replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. At that moment, the doorbell of your shared apartment rang.

Cheol was dashing in his suit. He had always looked attractive in casual clothing–a shirt, a jacket, or a layer of coats and shirts. But seeing him all dressed up made you giddy. Even his hair is styled neatly. He greeted your friends and had a small talk before you got into his car. You know he drives a car, but you've never really seen him in it. When you pointed that out, he said the cafe was close by so he always walked there.

"Are we neighbors?" you had asked.

And he replied with, "No, not really. I go the opposite way from your apartment. So, we’ve been meeting halfway all this time."

The concert was fancy, not your type of scene but you enjoyed it nonetheless. Even the people looked wealthy. It was a hall filled with all kinds of people who exuded an air of elegance, power, or authority about them. As if that’s not intimidating enough, you and Seungcheol had to sit in a private booth on the second floor, away from the regular crowd, with just about five other people there with you. They said your guts would know if you’re somewhere you shouldn’t be, perhaps that’s why your belly is turning.

You weren't poor, but you're not rich enough to afford these types of pastimes either. Your parents are self-made businessmen who are earning enough to be in the upper-middle-class society. Still, even an occasional, super rare splurge on shopping is a luxury. Thus, you started to wonder what Sungcheol does for a living. Is he self-made? Do lawyers earn a lot? Or did he come from a wealthy family? It must be his family because operas and classical music are usually acquired tastes.

The concert ended and was met with a standing ovation. Heck, even the way these people clapped was elegant, like there was a certain discipline to it. No cheering, no hoots and whistles, just synchronous, pleasant-sounding clapping.

You were still clapping when you felt Seungcheol’s shoulder on yours. He was leaning to your ear, whispering, “Come meet my parents.”

“Your what?” you blurted, surprised. Before you could utter another word, however, Seungcheol was already tugging on your waist, ushering you toward the other side of the booth. You spotted two elders who you assumed were his parents. With them was a younger man who just said something that made the elegant lady laugh.

Then the younger man caught sight of you and smiled widely. “It’s Seungcheol!”

“Mother, Father,” Seungcheol greeted as soon as you got closer to where they were standing. You clenched your fists, hoping to stop them from jittering. “Good to see you.”

Mother? Father? Don’t people usually call their parents ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’?

“Hello, hunny,” his mother beamed, welcoming Seungcheol in her arms when he moved to hug her. And while his father was shaking hands with him, his mother eyed you curiously. “And who is this lovely lady?”

“Oh, um–”

“This is my friend, y/n,” Seungcheol introduced. “She’s joining me this evening.”

“So I see,” the Mother chimed. She glided over to you for a quick embrace. “It’s nice to meet you, darling.”

“It’s good to meet you too,” you replied with a smile. “You raised an excellent man.”

His mother laughed heartily, flattered. “I wouldn’t boast about it, but he did grow up excellently.”

You shared a giggle before Seungcheol’s father spoke to you. “Are you a friend from work? You look quite young to be a lawyer. Fresh from the bar exams, I take it?”

“Uh, no,” you replied, trying your best to not appear nervous. “I’m actually still a student. AB Linguistics.”

“Ah, I see,” his father hummed. “Linguistics? That’s a good program.”

“Thank you, sir,” you beamed. “I enjoy it very much.”

“As you should. Seunghan here is pursuing Linguistics too. He’s in his fourth year.”

Seunghan, Seungcheol’s brother smiled widely at you. You smiled back and said, “I’m in my fourth year too.”

“Really? Wow, are we the same age?” he asked, genuinely amazed. He turned to Seungcheol. “We’re the same age? I almost called her Noona.”

Seungcheol was about to respond when a woman interjected with a cheery greeting. It was the cellist from the concert, the star of this event. She first went to greet Seunghan and then the parents.

“Thank you so much for coming,” she told the father, who smiled in response.

“It was an impressive performance. You did well,” he praised.

“Mom, you’re glowing,” she told Seungcheol’s mother. “You look even prettier than the last time we saw each other.”

“Oh, you sweet little fox,” his mother chided, but she was giggling and touching her face. The woman’s statement seemed to have flattered her more than when you said her son was excellent. And she called her Mom, she must be family.

“Oppa!” she exclaimed, leaping a little to wrap her arms around Seungcheol whose arms were still around your waist. You got pushed aside, violently, and fell on the floor with a thud.

Embarrassment made your cheeks flare as you hurriedly stood. Seungcheol helped you up, worriedly asking if you were alright.

“I’m sorry,” the other woman apologized. “I didn’t think that would happen. How clumsy of me.”

You smiled half-heartedly, looking away from everyone’s worried gazes. “I’m fine,” you told Seungcheol who was still eyeing you with concern. You patted your dress down, feeling extremely shy.

Then the woman held out her hand, “I’m Mina. Nice to meet you.”

You stared at the hand for a moment before taking it in yours and telling her your name. “It was a great concert. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it,” she smiled, then looked at Seungcheol. “Is she your friend? I’ve never seen her before.”

“She is,” he replied curtly. You couldn’t help noticing Mina’s elegant demeanor. She exuded elegance and class that you’ve only seen on TV shows about rich people. The way she spoke was beautiful and enticing. Even her motions were so fluid and beautiful, plus her mannerisms were cute. It was like being in the presence of someone who is hundreds of times better than regular people–than you are.

“Anyway, thanks again for coming, oppa,” Mina told Seungcheol, patting his shoulder before placing her hands on both. She flashed a sweet, coquettish smile and leaned to kiss Seungcheol on his cheek. “See you again soon?”

“Okay,” Seungcheol replied, flattening his lips into a smile.

Mina turned to you, her hand sliding naturally on Seungcheol’s arm and linking it there. “It was nice to meet you, y/n. Good thing you’re not dating because that would have been so awkward.” She laughed.

"No, we're just friends,” Seungcheol iterated.

“I know. You already said so, oppa,” Mina beamed. “I have to go. Thanks for coming and see you next time.”

She then fled the booth, leaving you and Sungcheol there by yourselves. His parents left a while ago, telling you to catch up with Mina. Seunghan didn’t stay for long too, and left shortly after their parents. Your eyes flitted over to Seungcheol who was still looking at the door Mina exited on. You even witnessed the heavy sigh he let out a few minutes later before turning to you.

“Shall we go?”

You nodded in response. He offered his arm for you to hold on to and you did just that as you walked out of the booth, to the hall, to the lobby, until you reached the entrance where his car was being driven out of the parking lot by the valet. The first few minutes of the ride home were quiet and it was stressing you out. He should at least say something to fix this awkward atmosphere. Maybe, you should. But you had no idea what to talk about.

Should you ask him about his family? Or Mina? What do you have to lose? He brought you here so he should expect you to have questions. This is one way to get to know each other, right? Right.

“How do you know the cellist?” you began, eliciting an inquiring hum from Seungcheol. “Mina, the cellist. You seem to know each other.”

“Ah, her,” he acknowledged, pausing. “Yeah, we knew each other. We used to be in a relationship.”

You expected this to be the answer, but it still shocked you to hear him confirm it. “I see.”

“We broke up a long time ago. She had to leave and study music abroad. It couldn’t be helped.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed. You couldn’t say anything because your mind was focusing on the slight but stabbing pain in your chest. You were, in fact, feeling a little jealous. Mina was everything you’re not. She’s close with his family too and they have a history. Maybe Seungcheol was just being friendly, after all.

When you arrived home, your roommates were excited to hear about the date, but you told them you were tired and wanted to sleep. As thoughts floated through your mind endlessly, you wondered if he brought you to the concert as a decor to make his ex jealous. That made you even sadder but you told yourself you were overthinking it and you know he is not that kind of guy.

And then again, if you think about it, did you really truly know him that well?

You hadn't heard from Seungcheol for a while after the concert. Sad, but it was fine too because you weren't really looking for him. You had a crush on the guy, but it was over before it got deeper–which was good because now you don’t have to think about him all the time. School was demanding enough, you can’t have a guy distracting you from that.

And yet, despite your constant denial, not a day passed by without Seungcheol crossing your mind. What can you do? You don’t just forget someone overnight, especially if you like that person. Funnily enough, thoughts of Seungcheol never distracted you from your studies, instead, they made you want to work harder.

That said, you sat at a table at The Coffeehouse with a classmate to work on a project. His name was Jinwoo and he’s been flirting with you all semester. In fact, he paired up with you on this project just so he could spend time with you–he said so himself. He’s alright; charming, smart, and cute. Although you had no intentions of going out with him yet, you thought it would be fine to see where things would go. Especially with Seungcheol out of your hair.

“Seungcheol-nim?” you blurted. You were just thinking about Seungcheol when you realized the person who approached your table just now was him.

“Hello, y/n. How have you been?” He was asking you, but his eyes were fixated on Jinwoo, who only noticed Seungcheol when you called out his name.

“I’ve been well,” you replied hesitantly, recognizing his intense gaze on your classmate. “This is Jinwoo. We’re working on a project together.”

“A project?” he asked, his face softening as he glanced at you. “Good. I texted you.”

“Oh, you did?” You fished your phone from your bag and saw that he did message you; one from last night and another a few hours ago. “Sorry. I was working on school stuff. I haven’t been checking my phone much.”

“Alright. I won’t disturb you. Good luck,” he smiled.

“Yeah, I’ll text you later.”

“You don’t have to. But I’ll call you after dinner.”

You tilted your head in wonder. But you still said, “Okay.”

And he did, he called you at around 8 that night and asked how your day went. It wasn't strange to tell him how your day went. That had always been your topic every time you called each other at night. But Sungcheol seemed overly interested in it today. He kept asking more questions instead of responding to your answers with a few accounts of his own day. When he seemed to have run out of anything to ask about your day, he asked about your partner on the project.

"So, do you always get paired up with that guy?"

Your brows creased. "That guy? Jinwoo?"

He changed his question. "Never mind. How long have you been working on that paper?"

"Just a few days,” you replied, lying down to stare at the ceiling.

"Three days?" he asked from the other line.

"Now that you mentioned it, yes, it's been three days. How'd you guess that?"

Sungcheol huffed. "I just did."

"You just did?"

"We haven't talked for three days, so I just pieced it together."

"I see," you hummed, nodding even though you know he can't see it. You squinted your eyes, realizing something in his tone and attitude ever since you started this conversation. "Seungcheol-nim, is this an interrogation?"

"And there's that too," he sighed from the other line. You can almost picture how his already pouty lips are pouting even more along with the creasing of his forehead.

"What?" you asked.

"Seungcheol-nim."

"Huh?"

"Seungcheol-nim. When did you decide to go back to calling me that?"

"Oh, that? Just recently."

"Why is that?"

Because you found out his ex called him oppa and is still calling him that. "Just because. It shouldn't matter. How I address you is not that big of a deal."

"It's not?"

"No. It's not."

"Alright."

"Alright..." he echoed. You had nothing else to say to that, so you just breathed. The thoughts swimming in your head don't make sense, but you let them keep your mind busy instead of overthinking this whole conversation with Seungcheol. He's gone quiet too, probably running out of anything else to say. Or probably thinking random thoughts like you are. But it looks like he didn't want to end the call and of course, you don't really want to either.

"Seungcheol-nim?" Breathing. All you can hear from the other line is breathing; deep inhales and calm exhales from him that make you assume he had fallen asleep.

"Are you sleeping?" you asked but again, all you could hear was calm breathing. You pictured him on his bed, one hand pressing the phone on his ear and the other resting on his abdomen. You pictured the rise and fall of his chest with every inhale of air that you can hear. You pictured his face, peaceful and handsome even with his eyes closed. These are the thoughts and images that filled your head as you closed your eyes and fell asleep to the sound of his breathing

Your phone was dead when you woke up in the morning, making you wonder how long were you on the phone with Seungcheol; if he really was asleep the whole time, or if he woke up and hung up sometime in the night. As soon as you turned it on after a quick trip to the bathroom, you found a message from him.

Seungcheol: Working all day today. Cafe tonight? My treat.

You smiled as you typed a reply saying 'yes' to meeting him tonight. The bounce in your steps and the chime in your voice did not miss Seolhee's radar and she ambushed you at the breakfast table.

"You look like you had a good sleep. I thought you said you're done with Seungcheol?" Seolhee began.

"And those two correlate because?"

"Because Seungcheol is obviously the reason why you're smiling today."

"What makes you think so?" you retorted, trying to squirm out of her grasp. You wouldn't lie to her but you would never admit it either, especially after you gave them a whole spiel about you not settling for a guy who seemed uncertain about his intentions.

"I just know."

"You're too confident," you jeered, poking a sausage with your fork and taking a bite out of it.

Seolhee chuckled. "Whatever you do, don't get hurt. I'll kill him myself."

You chortled. "That's weirdly reassuring. Thanks."

You couldn't wait for your evening class to be over and run to the CoffeeHouse. It was an embarrassing thing to admit because only a few days ago, you were upset and told your roommates you didn't want anything to do with Seungcheol anymore. And yet, here you are, back to acting like a giddy teenager.

Seungcheol: Are you still in class? The cafe is closed.

"Damn it?" you muttered upon reading Seungcheol's text. The class just finished and you were walking out of the classroom with other students. As you typed a reply, you noticed Jinwoo walking with you.

"Hi. A little update on our paper," he began, standing in front of you and walking backward so he was face-to-face with you while talking. "I've proofread the entire thing and fixed any error I could find. It's pretty much ready for submission."

You beamed at him. "Thank you, Jinwoo. Do you think it's okay to submit it earlier than the deadline?"

"Knowing Professor Choi? He'd be singing our praises all semester for our punctuality and whatnot."

You giggled, finding his sentiments accurate and funny at the same time. "I bet he will. I'll trust you with it alright?"

"You know you can," he chimed, the lilt in his voice was endearing. "Listen, there's a party at the Delphi this Saturday. Would you like to-"

"Seungcheol-nim!" you called out when you spotted Seungcheol by the gate. He found you among the crowd and waved at you with a smile. The pleasant sight of him smiling didn't last long though because seeing Jinwoo made him scowl.

"The cafe is closed?" you asked as soon as you were within his reach. "Why though? The cafe never closes."

Seungcheol sighed, eyes focused on Jinwoo who was still tailing behind you. "Yeah. Something about a sanitation check. I'm not sure. I just found out about it."

"Did you ask Mingyu?"

"I did. He said it was a sanitation check but he wasn't sure either." He exhaled before shifting his gaze on you. "Do you have other plans tonight?"

You gawked at him for a second and then realized Jinwoo was still there. Seungcheol must have thought you had plans with him.

"No, I don't," you replied then turned to Jinwoo. "Thanks again, Jinwoo. Let me know if Professor Mich says anything about the paper."

"Yeah. Okay," he blurted, backing away. "See you tomorrow."

You smiled at him and beckoned at Seungcheol who was still wearing a deadpan expression. When you've walked far away enough from the gate and Jinwoo had gone his own way too, you tugged on Seungcheol's coat.

"Everything okay? We could just go home, you know. Try again tomorrow?" you asked, thinking he was miffed about the cafe being closed.

"It's alright. There are plenty of other cafes around," he replied, forcing a smile. "Are you okay with walking around tonight? I would have brought a car had I known the Coffeehouse was closed."

You rolled your eyes. "Duh. Let's go."

And thus began a spontaneous night out. Seungcheol suggested you go for a walk to the next cafe but your conversations proved to be too much fun when you missed the cafe and even missed your apartment. It was funny to both of you and you would go on to continue walking until you reached a quiet neighborhood. You climbed the uphill stairs and watched the cityscape from there.

"Seungcheol-nim, what was your dream?"

"My dream?" he asked. surprised.

"Yes, as a child. Your current job, is it what you dreamed of?"

Seungcheol leaned on the railings and gazed at the city lights. "Not a lawyer, for sure. I kinda just had to do it because everyone in the family is doing it."

You rested your chin on the cold steel bar of the railings. "So what was it?"

"A teacher."

Your eyes widened. "A teacher?"

"Yes." He chuckled. Your eyes appreciated how the wind blew his hair out of his face. "A college professor, actually. My uncle was one and he was my role model. I was set on being a teacher before I entered college but as you can see, I'm not."

"How about now? I'm sure you still have time to change careers."

"Nah," he shrugged. "I'm content with where I'm at right now."

"But do you want it?"

Seungcheol looked at you, pursing his lips as he nodded. "Of course. And if I don't change my mind about it in, say five or more years, I might consider shifting."

"It shouldn't be so hard, right? I mean, you're already a lawyer. You can teach criminal justice or something like that."

He smiled at you, impressed by your input. "Yeah. Something like that."

You wiggled your eyebrows. "I bet you'd be a really cool teacher."

Seungcheol frowned. "You said I'm boring and speak like an old man."

"The old man part was a joke and even if you're the boring kind of teacher, you'd still be cool because handsome teachers are cool."

"You think I'm handsome?"

You started laughing a little too loudly after he caught you off-guard. "Did I say that?"

"You didn't but you were implying it."

"You lawyers like to twist people's words, don't you?"

Seungcheol shrugged, chucking his hands in his coat pockets. "Only when it's advantageous. And there was no need to twist anything. The implication was clear."

"Okay, I'm gonna go," you chuckled, walking back down the stairs. Seungcheol followed behind you with a smile. "Oh, and we should drop by the coffee shop. I need caffeine because I've been home all day and there's no coffee at home."

"Isn't it too late for coffee? Don't you need to sleep?" he asked, casually catching your elbow when you lost your balance on the steps.

You felt the way his hand clenched on your arm, impressed by the strength of his hold. Then your mind embarrassingly flashed an image of his muscles underneath his coat. The amount of times you saw him in t-shirts sometimes had you gawking at his strong arms but only now did you start imagining how it would feel like to be locked in those muscles.

"Decaf?" he prompted, making your eyes flutter back to his face. You pulled your arm back and continued walking.

"Yeah. Decaf."

You shook your head a few times, trying to erase the image of yourself in his arms. It was embarrassing and you were worried that he could see through you. He can't obviously, but you still wish you were not giving off any signs. You refused when Seungcheol offered to walk you back to your apartment but he insisted on it, saying it would be dangerous for you to go alone. He must have thought it was weird for you to decline because you never did that before. If he did think that, you'll never know because he never said so.

"What's your dream?" he asked, breaking the silence between you while you walked down the quiet streets.

"Like a dream job?" you questioned, briefly glancing at him to see him nod. "I'm not sure. I actually don't have one. But I was thinking of establishing a tutoring clinic like my mom has."

"A cram school?"

"Yes. My only dream was to be content and happy with my life; to live in the city in a cozy apartment, tending to plants, and reading books. But of course, none of that is possible without an actual job and I thought my mom's job was cool, so I was considering doing what she does."

"You'd make a really cool teacher."

You snorted. "I'm not gonna be a teacher. More like an instructor."

"Aren't they the same thing?"

"They are kind of the same thing," you laughed shyly. "But they're different too. I don't know. I haven't given it much thought. I think I'm just living for the now, going where the flow takes me and not taking control of my own life. It feels awful sometimes."

"How is that awful? Going with the flow is actually smart. Knowing what you want your life to be is good too, even if the path towards that hasn't been planned yet."

You shrugged. "I guess you're right. But I think I'm just lucky enough to not worry about my future as much as other people do. No one's pressuring me into anything, not my parents, not the society."

"Yes. You are lucky."

You pointed to the apartment complex in front of you. "I'm here. Thanks for walking me."

Seungcheol smiled at you, reaching to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. "Good night, y/n."

"Good night, Seungcheol-nim."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Is there any way I can get you to drop that?"

"What? Seungcheol-nim?"

"Yes."

"What else would I call you?"

"You didn't seem to have any problems calling me oppa before?" he complained, looking away as he scratched his nape and muttered. "I liked that better."

"What was that?" you asked when you didn't catch his last sentence. He glanced back at you.

"I said you can call me Cheol."

"I can? But you're older than me."

"It's alright. You said how you address me is not a big deal."

You beamed happily. "Alright, Cheol."

“Alright, y/n.”

You beamed. “Alright.”

“Alright…”

Like Hazel Grace and Augustus, alright has become your always.

Imagine living in a big city, with lots of massive stores, and massive buildings, but you still bump into an ex from three years ago? Baffling. But then, here you are, awkwardly sifting through shelves for a bottle of mayo while your ex asks you how you’ve been.

“I’ve been well, Yeol. Thanks for asking. Now would you please go away? I’m busy.”

Yeol just chuckled, amused. “I see you haven’t changed one bit.”

“I have. I don’t care about anything you have to say anymore,” you retorted but it only made him laugh harder.

“Gosh, y/n. I really fumbled you, didn’t I? You’re so endearing. It’s a shame you had to find out about the other girls.”

In the past, you would have kicked his shins, but you don’t even want to give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you. You turned to face him, gave him a deadpan expression, and said, “Move. I need that one there.”

Yeol moved one step aside, letting you take a product from the shelf behind him. As you were examining it, he crossed his arms over his chest and asked, “By the way, I heard you’re seeing someone now. Is it true?”

You scowled, but you didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s not true.”

“It isn’t? That’s good. Save yourself the trouble. Choi Seungcheol and Song Mina are trying to get back together.”

You froze in your tracks, your hand hovering by the shelf as you were about to put a product back in it. Yeol, oblivious to your shock, continued. “From what I heard, they’ll soon be engaged.”

“How did you know?” you asked him, forehead creasing with curiosity and annoyance.

“I know a friend of Song Mina’s. I got to hang out with her the last time she was in Seoul,” he replied but you shook your head at him.

“No. How did you know about me and Seungcheol?”

Yeol touched his chin to think. “I heard from a friend who told me he’d seen my ex-girlfriend with Lawyer Choi.”

“That’s all?”

“He said you two seemed close and asked if I knew you were seeing him. I told him I didn’t, of course. I had no idea what you’ve been up to since we broke up.” Yeol was still talking when you pushed your cart and walked away. He called out your name but you ignored him.

Seungcheol is trying to get back with Mina; why didn’t you think that’d be a possibility? He must still have feelings for her. And if they’re engaged, then it’s fine too. The news made you sad, but at least it was clear to you now that his intentions weren’t to date you or anything. He wanted you as a friend, that's it. Nothing more. At least you now know which place you’re allowed to stand on in his life. If you keep letting yourself mistake his actions for affection, it could end badly for you.

Resolute, you decided to limit contact and meetups. It's inappropriate to keep seeing him regularly when he's trying to win his girl back. There will be no more late-night talks, no more meeting up for coffee, and no more hanging out until late with just the two of you. You’re drawing the line for Mina and him to get back together. And most importantly, for yourself to stop falling for him even more.

Although you’d like to completely avoid him, you couldn’t. Seungcheol never said anything about liking you or trying to date you. So you can’t hold it against him if you develop feelings for him. That’s on you. Plus, you liked being friends with him and he seemed to like that too, so you’re cutting yourself some slack and allowing yourself to at least enjoy your friendship. You feel a little terrible, some itty bitty heartache but it’s fine. Everyone does.

“How are things with Mina?” you had asked him once when you ran into each other at the CoffeeHouse. He had been caught off-guard, but he just shrugged it off.

“We’re working on it,” was what he told you at the time.

“Good for you,” you had replied, although you didn’t mean it.

Over two weeks, you counted all the times he invited you out but you refused: four. You did fewer coffee runs and spent less time in the cafe. You focused on your other hobbies and hung out with your other friends. Whether or not he noticed the shift in you, you wouldn’t know because you never got the chance to talk about it.

“Ready?” Yoori asked, her head peering through the doorway of your bedroom. “Our ride is here.”

“Yeah, I’m just looking for my tumbler,” you replied, going through your bags.

“It’s in the car already,” she prompted, picking up your backpack on your bed. “Let’s go!”

You followed her through the apartment and outside where you saw Seolhee standing by a familiar car, and talking to an even more familiar guy.

“Ah, there they are!” Seolhee exclaimed, beaming at the two of you. “Shall we go now?”

Your eyes were locked on Seungcheol, confused and curious about him being here. He just gave you a smile and a small wave before taking your backpack that Yoori handed over to him. While your friends excitedly occupied the backseat of Seungcheol’s car, you waited for him to load your bag in the trunk and make his way to you.

“Good morning,” he greeted, looking cheerful and excited. “Are you ready to go?”

“What are you doing here?” you questioned sternly.

“What do you mean? Yoori invited me.”

You scowled. “Why would she do that? And why would you say ‘yes’?”

At this point, Seungcheol looked genuinely abashed by your confrontation. “Honestly, I have no idea why she did, but I said ‘yes’ because it sounded fun.”

You sighed, shoulders sagging as you contemplated whether going on this trip was a good idea anymore.

“Y/n, is everything okay? If it’s uncomfortable for you, I can cancel. I’m sure I can come up with a good excuse–”

“It’s fine, Cheol,” you said through gritted teeth. “Let’s just go.” You turned to open the car door but Seungcheol grabbed your arm before you could.

“Hey,” he called, his voice filled with worry. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you exhaled.

“I meant between us. If you don’t want me here, I’ll just go.”

You took his hand off your arm and forced a smile. “Everything is fine, Cheol. Let’s go have fun.”

Yoori and Seolhee had no idea that you’ve been trying to avoid Seungcheol, and that was obviously why they thought inviting him to your weekend camp trip was a good idea. In the car, Yoori explained that they ran into Seungcheol at the grocery store and invited him to join you on this trip, even quipping that you all could use a free ride.

The ride to the campsite was noisy, with both Yoori and Seolhee singing to the top of their lungs. At one point during the two-hour travel, you forgot about your issues with Seungcheol and managed to have fun with everyone. Seungcheol was mostly taken aback by the energy from you and the girls, but he seemed to have had his fun too. By the time you arrived at the campsite, you were all full with the food you bought at the rest stops. None of you were tired though because you immediately got to work on building tents and setting up your area.

Seungcheol was tasked to set up the barbecue table after you girls realized how much easier it was with a man around to do the lifting and assembling. When you were done with your tent, you approached Seungcheol by the bonfire with a bottle of water. He looked like he had run a mile, with his sweaty forehead and messed up hair. He even took off his jacket, revealing his muscular physique in his tight dri-fit shirt. Had he always been this hot? You knew he was handsome but did he have to be hot too?

You cleared your throat to prompt him so he immediately noticed your presence. Looking away because you couldn’t help staring at his arms, you handed him the bottle of water.

“Thanks,” he chimed, taking the bottle and opening it.

“Tables gave you a hard time?” you questioned, eyeing the table that was standing on crooked legs.

Seungcheol gulped down half the bottle and let out a big ‘ahh’ after. “I’ll admit, I’m not so confident with this kind of task.”

You scoffed, rounding the table to the crooked leg. “I can see that.”

“But hey, I did well with the chairs,” he beamed, pointing at the chairs. “Don’t you think so?”

He was gleaming with pride and you couldn’t help smiling at him. He’s so endearing and he’s not even trying. “Yeah, good job, Cheol.”

You showed him how to fix the table and you were amazed to find that he was eager to learn.

“Guys! You should get ready for the boat!” Yoori called after a few minutes. You waved your hand in response then turned to Seungcheol.

“I hope you brought a rashguard,” you told him.

Seungcheol tilted his head in ponder. “Well, Yoori said I should bring one so I did. But I still haven’t been told why.”

You scowled. “What do you mean? Did you come here without knowing what this trip is?”

Seungcheol shrugged and looked at the tents around. “It’s a camping trip.”

“My god, Mr. Choi Seungcheol,” you sniggered. “This is a wakepark.”

Of course, the campsite didn’t look like a wakepark. If it did, Seungcheol would have figured it out. But if one were to take a quick hike up the hill and descend on the other side, he willl find a massive lake there and a wakeboarding facility. Seungcheol was amazed when he saw it and uttered praises about the location and safety concerns.

“I don’t do much water sports,” he told you as you were queueing for the safety check.

“Have you tried wakeboarding before?” Seolhee asked.

Seungcheol had an exhilarated look on his face. “I haven’t. This will be my first time.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it,” Seolhee lilted. “I was scared to do it at first, but it was really fun.”

Yoori scoffed. “Which is why this has become our favorite weekend activity.”

Your friends were first to be briefed and while you waited below the platform, Seungcheol leaned to your ear to ask, “Is this what you do for fun?”

You looked up at him at shrugged. “Not all the time, but I do like wakeboarding.”

“Hmm. You didn’t strike me as the type to like extreme sports.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled. “First of all, this isn’t that extreme. Second, since when have you been making assumptions about me?”

“That will be from the moment I first met you,” he grinned.

“Is that so?” you teased. “How many times have I proven your assumptions wrong?”

“So far, you’ve only been proving me right,” he crooned, looking pleased. “Ah, right. Except today. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned. “Since you’re not so big on water sports, what do you do for fun?”

Seungcheol paused to think and then replied, “I go to shooting ranges with friends. Sometimes golfing. It depends on the company I have, really. I mostly just do what they want to do.”

“Like right now?”

He nodded. “Yes. Like right now.”

Seungcheol said this was his first time wakeboarding and it showed when he did it for the first time. But then several times later, he has shown proficiency on the sport. In no time, he’s wakeboarding on obstacles and doing it flawlessly. While you who’s not a first-timer would rather avoid obstacles.

“Whatever happened to the safety issues you were pointing out when we got here?” you taunted when he came back from his 17th time on the board. Was it 18th? Honestly, you’ve lost count already.

“Seolhee was right,” he reveled. “This is fun.”

“I know, Mr. Sportsman. But this is where the fun ends,” you announced, motioning to the sky and the setting sun on the horizon. “This place is closing.”

“So they said,” he replied, sighing. “We should come back here next time.”

Is he saying he wants to come back with you? He said ‘we’, didn’t he?

You shook your head to get rid of your intrusive thoughts. “Yeah. For now, let’s change and go back. We’re having barbecue.”

Seungcheol was talkative on your trek back to the campsite. He’s going on and on about how thrilling wakeboarding was and how he’d love to do it again. He was even describing the experience and the tricks he did and almost did. Listening to him was heartwarming, like talking to a child adorably blabbering about something he likes.

“I take it you don’t get this much thrill in your life?” you guessed, giving him a probing gaze.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then, I guess you need to have more adventurous friends.”

“I guess but…” he trailed off. You waited for him to finish his sentence, but he didn’t.

When you reach the campsite, your friends have got the fire going in the barbecue and they wave at you to join them. Seungcheol said he needs to put away his stuff first so you went ahead without him.

“He really kept going, huh?” Seolhee asked as you sat in front of the table. “Until closing time?”

“Yeah, he was like an energetic toddler,” you quipped, laughing fondly. “You should have seen how sad he was when it closed.”

“He’s so much older than us, but he’s so cute, isn’t he?” Yoori chimed before leaning close to you and nudging your elbow. “Also, you two look cute together.”

“Friends, Yoori,” you iterated. “We’re friends.”

“Whatever you say,” she teased so Seolhee scolded her. You stuck your tongue out at her, happy that Seolhee took your side.

“Hey,” Seungcheol prompted from behind you before sitting on the chair next to yours. “I just noticed we only have two tents.”

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulders to where the tents were set up and saw that you did have two tents only. “Oh. Oh no.”

You looked at your friends and Yoori just shrugged and told Seungcheol, “I must have forgotten to tell you to bring one.”

“Well, we’re not gonna share a tent,” you told them in a matter-of-factly tone. “I mean, duh?”

“Of course. But where would Seungcheol-nim sleep?” Seolhee asked.

You looked at Seungcheol who seemed as lost as you were. Surely you can’t share a tent with your housemates either. Yoori and Seolhee like to get intimate whenever you come to this place. You don’t know why this place specifically and you’re definitely not curious enough to find out. BUT maybe they’ll reconsider just this once?

“I can just sleep with you–”

“No!” Yoori and Seolhee interjected simultaneously.

Yoori giggled shyly. “You two can share.” You were about to protest but she spoke over you. “You’ll be in sleeping bags. Just scoot far from each other. Your tent is big anyway.”

You looked sideways at Seungcheol who shrugged and then said, “I can sleep in the car.”

You nodded. “Or we can rent a tent. They must have one in the reception.”

“Reception is closed,” Seolhee said, sheepish.

You could swear your friends are purposely trying to get you and Seungcheol to sleep in one tent. But when you checked the reception area, it really was closed. Seungcheol can’t sleep in his car. It’s uncomfortable and you’d feel bad if he did. Had you known he’d be joining you, you would have planned the trip properly. Although you knew you would probably refuse to go if you knew he’d be here too.

Before you spend the entire night contemplating the matter, Yoori manages to convince you to share the tent. Between you and Seungcheol, you eventually end up agreeing that neither of you is uncomfortable and you are both willing to share the tent.

“The kimchi is amazing, Seolhee,” you told your friend.

“Thank you. We have plenty at the apartment,” she chimed.

You turned to Seungcheol. “Seolhee’s grandma owns a restaurant in their town. Her food is out of this world amazing.”

“Really? We should go there sometime.”

There he goes again with his ‘we’ declarations. It makes you hope that there really is something between you and he feels it too. But that’s just wishful thinking. He’s actively trying to get back with his ex, he shouldn’t be hanging out with you like this. And then again, maybe he’d rather hang out with you. Maybe he’s decided that he likes being here better than anywhere else. And maybe you’re overanalyzing things so much so that you’re starting to think delusional thoughts.

No. Delusions are things that aren’t real. His jacket that he wore on you because he was worried you’d be cold was real. His hand over the backrest of your chair was real. Your bodies leaning toward each other whenever you laugh was real. The jokes you had to whisper to each other because only the two of you would understand them were real. Seungcheol is very real. So maybe, just maybe, this was something worth overthinking about.

“Okay! The bottle has spoken and it picked you, y/n,” Yoori announced, pointing the tongs at you. “Truth or dare?”

The food has long been devoured and you’ve gone through bottles of alcohol already. Seolhee suggested you play a game of Truth or Dare, so here you are.

“Truth!” Seolhee shrieked, which was very unlike her but she was too inebriated to care.

“Do you…” Yoori began, standing up. “...like someone who’s here right now?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “I didn’t say Truth.”

“Dare it is then!” Yoori declared, clearing her throat. She wobbled a little but regained her balance after shaking her head. She looked at you and then at Seungcheol then back at you again. “I dare you to kiss the person you like here.”

“We agreed no kissing dares,” you told her calmly so she sat and pouted, sulking.

“You’re no fun.”

You laughed at her and glanced at Seungcheol who was laughing too, probably amused by your drunken girlfriends. He’s mostly quietly observing, laughing here and there, and responding only when he’s talked to. During the game, he would only pick Truths and answer questions close-ended. Still, he didn’t seem bored, if anything, he looked like he was having lots of fun.

“Ah, crap. We’re out,” Seolhee said after pouring beer into her glass only to find that it was empty. “Ah. Y/n, I dare you to go buy more beer.”

You scowled. “Seriously? Haven’t you had too much?”

“Not nearly enough, love,” Seolhee replied, shaking her head and then laughing. You looked at Seungcheol, wondering how he was reacting to this. He just shrugged.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go!” Yoori scolded, drunkenly shooing you away.

“Yeah! Go!” Seolhee giggled and the two of them chanted happily. “More beer! More beer! More beer!”

You rose to you feet to leave and Seungcheol grabbed your wrist. “Wait, are you going down all by yourself?”

“No, dumbass,” you scoffed, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. “You’re coming with me.”

The convenience store was a little far from the campsite, about a ten-minute walk down. You and Seungcheol were talking as you went, laughing in between jokes. The cold autumn air of late September was chilly, but you’re warmed by his jacket over you. Your cheeks are hot too and you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or the proximity between you and Seungcheol as you marched down the sidewalk. Your shadows were on the road, separate but they fuse with the slight tilt of your head in his direction. Even that was making you giddy. Damn. It really must have been the alcohol.

You were still looking at your shadows when he said, “Look at the sky!”

“Where?” you asked, looking up at the sky only to find nothing but darkness up there. “There’s nothing there.”

“I didn’t say there’s anything up there,” he giggled and it was such a cute sound to hear. Alcohol loosened him up a bit and it had him giggling and laughing at the littlest things.

You gave him a deadpan expression. “Wow. Funny.”

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again and looked at the sky. “Oh wow, I think it’s raining.”

As if on cue, the rain started pouring from the sky. You squealed when big raindrops fell on your head. Seungcheol took you by the wrist and you followed him running to a nearby waiting shed. Laughing, you both stumbled into the shed, patting down the rainwater on your clothes.

“Gosh, we should’ve just taken the car,” you blurted, peeking at the sky from under the roof.

“We had beer,” he replied, reaching to the top of your head to pat your hair back. “I don’t drink and drive.”

“But you’re not drunk.”

“I’m not irresponsible either,” he retorted, chortling at you. You were looking up at him, eyes gleaming.

“Wow, you’re very large.” Your comment came out of nowhere and even you was surprised you asked something like that.

Seungcheol flashed an affectionate scowl as he laughed. “Large?”

“Yeah, like you’re tall and your build is large,” you explained, shivering when the wind blew. “I knew you were bigger than me but I didn’t realize you were this big.”

Seungcheol chuckled. “Come here.” He tugged on your arm, pulling you in front of him so he could stand behind you. Then you felt his body pressing gently over you along with his pair of muscular arms wrapping around your waist.

Your heart skipped a beat before raging wildly in your chest. “Cheol?”

“Hmmh?” he inquired, placing his chin on the top of your head.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying your best not to let your voice crack with nervousness.

“Helping with the cold,” he replied, taking a deep breath and then exhaling. “Damn, I think I had one too many beers.”

Seungcheol kept breathing in and out, steadying his breath as he fought against his tipsiness. You tilted your head back, urging him to get his chin off of your head. He did so and then leaned his forehead on your shoulder instead.

“You shouldn’t have drunk if you can’t hold your liquor,” you chided softly, almost in a whisper since his ear was close to your mouth.

“No, I can hold my liquor just fine. I just–” he paused to exhale and then continued– “I just need a second.”

The rain was loud against the roof and the wind was cold but your heart was warm; it was swelling with emotions, all leaning towards falling in love with Seungcheol. Surely you can’t do that, right? You’ve done well making sure you don’t fall for him even more, but now you’re back at one.

“Seungcheol?” you called softly, lifting your shoulder slightly to prompt him. “Hey.”

“Hmmh?” he responded, gently pushing you away when you moved to get him off your shoulder. “Sorry.”

You turned to face him, staring up at his sleepy expression. He beamed, eyes almost closed. It must have been the alcohol, or it could simply be the overwhelming emotions filling your heart to the brim. Maybe it’s his gentle smile and his eyes that are as beautiful as himself. Whatever it was, it made you take a step towards him, hold onto his arms, and then tip-toe so you could press your lips on his.

Seungcheol froze on the spot, eyes widening in surprise after your sudden action sobered him up. But it was only for a second. He kissed you back, holding your cheek so he could pull your face closer. Your grasp on his arms tightened as you tried to steady your body in your tiptoes. Seungcheol must have noticed you struggling to stand because he wrapped his other arm around your waist, keeping you in place.

A few seconds later, he exhaled sharply into the kiss and you could feel the temperature rising. It made you pull back, breaking the kiss. Seungcheol looked taken aback when you did.

You stuttered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

“Are you okay?” he asked and you nodded in response. Seeing that, Seungcheol leaned to kiss you again. The warmth emanating from his body, plus the delirious feeling of his lips on yours made you close your eyes, immersing yourself in the kiss once more.

This time, you parted when you were both ready, forehead pressed together as you catch your breath. Seungcheol’s eyes were closed, and you were staring right at him as the situation slowly sunk in. You took a step back, forcing him to let go.

“Choi Seungcheol,” you called out. Seungcheol looked at you, curiosity evident on his face. “You should probably stay away.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t stay so close if you don’t plan on staying at all.”

The face Seungcheol made upon hearing that shot an arrow straight into your heart. For a second there, you had expected him to finally put a label on your relationship. But that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he said, his voice apologetic and regretful, sending another surge of pain in your chest.

You were worried that you might cry, luckily, you didn’t. As you waited for the rain to stop, you both stood at the opposite ends of the waiting shed, not saying anything. The pitter-pattering of the rain kept you sane. When it finally stopped, you walked back up the hill, Seungcheol following closely behind. At the campsite, you found that Yoori and Seolhee have deserted the bonfire so you headed to your tent. Realizing that you were supposed to share it with Seungcheol, you mentally cursed yourself.

“Fuck it.”

You hid in your sleeping bag, facing the tent so you didn’t have to see Seungcheol or interact with him at all. But hours passed by, and you lay there with your eyes wide open, unable to sleep because of the thoughts floating in your head. Seungcheol didn’t enter the tent and several times you wondered where he was.

He’s probably in the car. He won’t possibly sleep outside, right? Right. And so you forced yourself to sleep, hoping the hours tick faster so you can go home and get over everything. When the first light peeked into the seams of the tent, you rose to your feet with a heavy body and an even heavier stride. The first thing you thought of was Seungcheol as if you hadn’t already been thinking about him all night. He was in his car, sleeping in the reclined driver’s seat. He must have been uncomfortable there.

Yoori and Seolhee are still asleep so you took it upon yourself to pack up your stuff. You packed the trash away and brought the dirty containers to the wash area so you could wash them. Halfway through, Seungcheol arrived.

“Do you need help with that?” he offered but instead of answering, you left the dishes half-done.

“Take care of it then,” you told him before walking away to take the trash to the recycling area. Yoori and Seolhee soon woke up and you all agreed to eat breakfast at the rest stop.

The silence between you and Seungcheol was the loudest in the car. You knew your friends noticed that, but they were nice enough not to pry. Instead, they minded their own business, flirting and being rowdy in the backseat among themselves. Several times they would prompt the two of you to let you in on what they were laughing about. Seungcheol would respond just to be polite, while you gave the most half-hearted reactions. When you arrived home, the girls thanked Sungcheol and hauled your stuff into the apartment.

As you were getting out of the car, Seungcheol tried talking to you. When you ignored him and went for the door, he grabbed your hand, squeezing it firmly.

“Please?”

You feel pathetic enough as it is, you don’t want to linger any longer. “There’s nothing to talk about, Cheol. It’s fine.”

“I just want to apologize, y/n. I overstepped.”

"It's okay. I should be the one apologizing. It was me who kissed you after all, so, I was the one who overstepped," you professed, not looking at him out of embarrassment.

"Don't be. I didn't mind it."

"Thanks," you muttered, getting ready to get out of the car. "This was fun. Thanks for everything."

Seungcheol’s face darkened with concern. "You mean the camping trip, right?"

"No, I meant all of this. Everything that we did, everything we shared, it had been fun and I would probably miss all of it but it shouldn't be that hard to forget," you replied, holding his gaze for the first time since that kiss. Seungcheol's mouth opened and then closed again. You felt even sadder, knowing he didn't want you the same way you wanted him. "Goodbye, Cheol."

"Wait, y/n," he called, so you stopped opening the car door. "Can't we be friends? We were good friends, right? I really enjoyed hanging out with you."

"I liked hanging out with you too but things will never be the same between us, Cheol and you know it." Seungcheol released your hand and you felt your heart shatter into tiny little pieces. Seeing how he's just letting you leave, you figured this was all your fault for falling for him when all he wanted from you was friendship.

He didn't even say goodbye when you left and as soon as you were inside the house, you broke down crying. Luckily, Yoori and Seolhee were there to comfort you, staying right next to you as you cried your heart out. It was ridiculous and you're telling yourself that you shouldn't even be sad about it. How can your heart break over something that was never about romance in the first place? To him, it may have not been about romance, but to you it was. He shouldn't have reeled you in like he did. You should have just ordered a takeout when you couldn't find a seat in that cafe. You shouldn't have joined him or eaten the donut. You shouldn't have met him at all.

"Imagine breaking up with someone you never dated? Couldn't be me," Seolhee jeered, getting a glare from Yoori.

"Hey, she's heartbroken enough as it is. Don't rub salt in the wound."

Seolhee just scoffed. "What did I tell her? I told her to make sure they were on the same page before she fell for his charm and all! Look at the mess he left her in!"

Yoori sighed, still holding you in her embrace. "To be fair, he did tell her he hasn't moved on from his ex and they're trying to fix it. So romance was obviously out of the table for him right now."

“Then why did he keep hanging out with her? He may have been clear about where his heart was but you and I, including him, know their coffee runs and all that meeting up are intimate enough to be called dates!"

"Seolhee, sweetheart, you can't hold him hostage for something he can't control. Yes, he's accountable for y/n's heartbreak. Yes, he got her hooked with his charming personality. And yes he was a jerk for still hanging out with another girl when he was trying to get back with his ex. But nowhere in the equation did he explicitly mention the possibility of dating y/n. He was nice and apparently, he liked talking to y/n. Our girl fell in love, he had no control over that."

"We kissed," you croaked, sniffling into the blanket.

"You what?" Seolhee asked, confused.

"Well, I kissed him, actually."

"And he kissed you back?" Seolhee interrogated so you nodded.

Yoori let go of you and stood with her arms over her chest. "I beg your fucking pardon?"

"Babe," Seolhee blurted, holding Yoori by the arm. "Calm down."

"I’m calm. But he… He's dead," Yoori attempted to go to the door but Seolhee managed to stop her.

Seungcheol sat on the table opposite Mina, absent-mindedly slicing his steak. His mind was elsewhere entirely, while Mina was rambling about her trip abroad. His lack of attention was unusual, even for himself, especially since he had been looking forward to this dinner ever since Mina's last concert. But why is he thinking about an entirely different girl from Mina, in an entirely different setting from this fancy hotel restaurant?

"Oppa," Mina prompted, taking notice of the steak that has now been reduced to tiny, uneven little pieces. Even the vegetables have been sliced the same way. "Are you alright? You seem spaced out."

Seungcheol heaved a deep sigh upon seeing the state of his food. "Yes, I'm fine. Just not hungry."

Mina pouted cutely. "You should have ordered a salad or something."

"You're right, I should have," Seungcheol grinned.

"You weren't listening to the waiter so I ordered your usual." Mina looked worried. "Are you sure you're okay? We could meet up some other time, you know."

"I am, Mina. I'm sorry if I'm not fun to be with right now."

Mina just nodded and continued eating. "So, as I was saying," she began, falling back into a long monologue about her latest trip abroad.

Seungcheol watched her speak, recognizing the delight in her voice and the way her cheeks lifted whenever she smiled, as well as the slight annoyance on her face when her story included something bad that happened there. He watched the woman he knew so well, trying to find the reason he was sitting here in the first place. Seungcheol knew it was love. He had loved Mina for so long and so much that he couldn't even look at other girls. Even when she broke up with him, he couldn't bring himself to move on and find someone else, someone better, someone who wouldn't do to him what Mina did. He waited for her to come back because she was all he wanted, the one he loved most. It was pathetic, but he didn't care. He told himself he could wait until she was ready, and he did just that, not listening to any of his friends or his self-respect. He loved Mira, and only Mira.

But why does he keep picturing you in your usual spot at The Coffeehouse, reading your books on a small tablet? Why does he keep imagining you rolling your eyes at his lame jokes and making him laugh with your witty remarks? Why does he still clearly remember how it felt kissing you in that waiting shed, with the sound of the rain draining the noises of his pounding heartbeat?

"Oppa," Mina prompted again, this time she looked annoyed.

"Yeah?"

"Are you even listening?"

"Yeah, no. I'm sorry. What was that?"

Mina huffed. "Nevermind. I'll tell you when your mind stops flying out to space."

Seungcheol was holding Mina's hand as they walked out of the restaurant, with her giggling about the good food and him nodding along. That's how it should be, the two of them hand-in-hand and together. That should make him happy because that was what he wanted. Still, he was struggling to find contentment. When he got home that night, he had to grab a can of beer in an attempt to help him fall asleep. His mind is still filled with thoughts of you, especially the part when you last saw each other.

He loves Mina, he knows that. But he felt like crap for hurting you. Seungcheol knows he's a jerk, alright. You were right, he shouldn't have stayed that long if he wasn't planning on staying at all. But he saw you as a friend, a good friend he can talk to comfortably without the pressure of being perfect. You made him laugh easily, made him drop his guard down without warning, and crept into his heart like it was only natural to do so. He knew this could happen at one point but after you found out he'd been trying to get back with Mina, you drew the line and told him you could be good friends without any expectations. He had been blind to see that you've already gone past being friends. Now he's losing his mind over you, replaying the kiss in his head and reliving the day he let go of your hand to never see you again. He's thinking about you but he can't erase Mina for someone he recently just met, regardless of how wonderful it was.

"Ah, fuck," he muttered, massaging the bridge of his nose in an attempt to alleviate his headache.

Seungcheol kept seeing Mina after that, and he was under the impression that they were back together already. She hung out with his mother a lot and discussions about marriage were being brought up but he was unenthusiastic about it all. He was too busy trying to get you out of his head, which he kept failing miserably because the effort only made him think about you more.

"What are you thinking about?" Mina asked, tracing lines on his chest.

"A lot of things."

"Can you stop thinking about them for now?"

"I don't know. I'm trying."

Mina propped herself up on her arms, smiling as she straddled Seungcheol again. "I could help," she grinned, grinding on his crotch.

"Mina, we literally just finished—" Seungcheol was cut off when Mina leaned to kiss his lips.

Right. This is what he wanted, to have Mina back in his arms again. This should feel right. Seungcheol decided to ignore the alarms ringing in his head as well as the weird feeling in his gut that he shouldn't be here at all.

"Mr. Landlord!" Mingyu greeted when Seungcheol walked into the cafe. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I got busy," Seungcheol replied, smiling at the younger man behind the counter. "Everything good here?"

"Perfect," Mingyu smiled, turning to make Seungcheol's usual drink order. "Are you looking for y/n?"

Seungcheol realized he had been looking around the cafe and cleared his throat to shake off the shame of getting caught. "Has she been here at all?"

"Oh, she's here all the time."

"All the time?"

"Yes. She's here almost every day. I talked to her once and she said she's working on the final editing for her thesis."

Seungcheol nodded. "I suppose she is."

Mingyu glanced at the door when it opened. "There they are."

Seungcheol head has never spun that quickly; it hurt his neck a little. And seeing you walking inside the cafe with Jinwoo from one of your classes made him scowl.

"Oh," you blurted, stopping in your tracks as soon as you saw Seungcheol by the counter.

Seungcheol gave you a timid smile before Mingyu tapped on his shoulder to give him his order. "Right. Thanks."

He turned to you, smiling and then sighing. "Good to see you."

You just responded with a slight bow of your head and Seungcheol went on to find a vacant seat. He sank into the chair, taking his book out and covering his face as he scolded himself for the stupid line. You were standing right there, he could have asked to talk to you properly.

"'Good to see you'? Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head and putting his book back down. He would soon regret it because he could see you and the guy you were with laughing together from the window table, far from where he was. He couldn't help admiring your smile, realizing just how much he missed it. But his face darkened at the sight of the guy's arm resting on the back of your chair.

"Don't punch someone, Mr. Landlord."

Seungcheol jolted when he heard Mingyu's voice in his ear. The latter just laughed heartily, placing a plate with a donut in it right in front of Seungcheol.

"It's on the house. The owner saw you come in. She's probably hoping for a discount on the rent."

"Tell her thanks and that it's not gonna happen," Seungcheol jeered and Mingyu raised a hand on his forehead as a salute.

"Will do," he chimed, tucking the tray under his arm. "Oh, by the way, I think that guy likes y/n."

"How do you know that?"

Mingyu scoffed. "Everyone likes y/n. She's popular at school. They even have a title for her."

"What's the title?"

"Million Dollar Smile. She's the university sweetheart. I have friends from the school who are head over heels for her."

Seungcheol smiled absent-mindedly, repeating your title in his head. It suits you because you have a radiant smile that he now can't get out of his mind.

"The other day, he gave her flowers," Mingyu said, souring Seungcheol's mood. He saw the frown on Seungcheol's face and thought he didn't believe him. "It's true. I was here when he did it. I don't think y/n likes him though. She left the flowers on the table."

"Then why are they still together?"

Mingyu shrugged. "No clue."

Seungcheol sighed and hit Mingyu's abdomen. "Are you here to gossip? Don't you have work to do?"

"I just thought you'd like to hear updates about her," he complained, massaging the part where Seungcheol hit him. "Why are you so mad?"

Mingyu marched back to his post and Seungcheol went back to his book, trying to ignore your presence and failing because he ended up just stealing more glances. You didn't linger for long though, leaving the cafe with your friend after you were done with your coffee. Seungcheol could only get peace of mind then. Or so he thought. You came back alone and sat on the chair opposite of his.

"What's your deal?" you asked, looking annoyed.

"What do you mean?" Seungcheol asked back, trying to appear calm despite being surprised by your sudden appearance.

"You wanna talk to me, say it. Stop acting like a stalker."

"A stalker? I wasn't acting like a stalker," he denied, chuckling. "You were sitting within my line of sight. I can't be blamed for that. And I was here first. You have no case."

"Are being a lawyer on me right now?"

"No,” he replied briskly. “Yes, maybe."

You huffed, leaning on the backrest of the chair and crossing your arms over your chest. "Is everything alright with you?"

"Yes. Everything's fine," Seungcheol replied, smiling at your warmer attitude.

"You look…” you paused, shrugged, and added, “I don't know, different?"

"Different how?"

You shrugged. "You look like you haven't slept properly. You got thinner too and a little paler than usual. Were you sick?"

"Did it always feel this good to be cared about?" Seungcheol blurted out before he could think twice about it. He saw your brows twitching and felt nervous about what you were going to say next but you just looked away. "Don't mind me. What about you? How are you these days?"

You huffed. "If you're so curious then you should have texted me."

"You told me to leave you alone."

You glared at him. "No, I didn't."

"Pretty sure you did," Seungcheol smiled. "You just used different terms."

"And you were dissecting my words."

"Nothing much to dissect when it was staring me right in the face."

You huffed impatiently, standing up from your seat. "I didn't come here to get smart with you, so goodbye."

Seungcheol grabbed your hand. "Coffee? Won't you at least have a cup?"

"I just had one."

"Yeah, I saw that. Were you working on a project again with that guy? Jinwoo, was it?"

"Why do you care? I never asked you if you're back together with Mina."

Seungcheol's hand on your wrist twitched. You were right to ask that. Why does he even care? He has Mina. He shouldn't be acting like this anymore.

"Don't stop coming here just because I come here, Cheol. This was your favorite spot. I'm graduating anyway so I'm pretty sure I’ll stop being around much."

"No. I—" Seungcheol sighed, letting go of your hand. "Okay. It was nice seeing you again."

You gave him a small smile before walking away. Seungcheol sat there for the next hour, staring into nothing with muddled thoughts and a weird aching in his heart. He kept telling himself that he shouldn't have let your hand go for the third time around. But how stupid was he to think that?

It was only when his phone rang that he stood up and left. Mina called and asked to meet him. He drove down to a restaurant, wondering why Mina was inviting him out to another dinner. It was with their common friends this time and she was gushing about some really good news.

When he got there, Seungcheol was confused to see his girlfriend sitting next to a guy, smiling happily with her hands wrapped around his arms. She spotted Seungcheol and waved happily.

"Oppa! You made it!"

You recognized the guy as the pianist who always accompanied Mina on stage. He was smiling at him too with the same glow of happiness as Mina.

"Come join us! Everyone's here," Mina said, running up to Seungcheol to guide him to a vacant seat. But he didn't budge. "What's wrong?"

"What's this, Mina?" Sungcheol asked, sighing in frustration.

"My friends. They wanted to meet you."

Seungcheol sighed again, grabbing her by the wrist and walking out of the private restaurant. He stopped in a quiet hallway, looking at Mina with conviction.

"Are we doing this again, Mina?"

"What is?"

"Who was that guy?" he spat and Mina laughed incredulously.

"That's Hyungjae. My pianist."

"Your pianist?"

Mina shrugged. "We're kind of seeing each other but it's not serious."

"Mina you were with me just a few days ago. You were in my bed!"

"I know! And I loved that," she smiled, placing her hands on Seungcheol's chest. "I love you. You don't have to worry about Hyungjae. He's just temporary."

"Are you seriously doing this again? Am I supposed to turn a blind eye while you go sleep around with just anyone? And you asked me to come here so you could introduce me to your friends? What do you take me for, Mina?" Seungcheol grunted, swatting her hands away. "Do you see how messed up this is?"

"Oppa!"

"Let's stop this."

Mina’s face contorted with annoyance. "What do you mean? You can't say that!"

"Why not?”

She shook her head. “You can’t break up with me! Who do you think you are?”

Just like that, he’s had enough. Seungcheol walked away, completely ignoring Mina's nonstop calling. He found his car and drove a long way without an actual destination. But when he saw the Coffeehouse, he stopped right in front of it, sighing as he watched it from the side of the road. He wasn't expecting to see you there at all, smiling while talking to someone on the phone. He couldn't hear you but he was smiling along, content with the sight of your bright face.

Seungcheol was a fool. All this time, he had been blindly going in the wrong direction. He didn't want Mina because he still loved her, he wanted Mina because she was familiar. He had been chasing the empty shell of the love he used to have. He had been focusing too much on what he lost that he failed to acknowledge what he found. You. He found something really beautiful in you. He was realizing just now that he was in love with you after all. You were so graceful and pretty, like a breath of fresh air. He was enamored by you, not because you were alluring or sexy, but because you were smart and spoke kindly even when you were speaking carelessly. You were beautiful to look at, and even more breathtaking to listen to. Seungcheol was an idiot. He knows that now. He knows he would be an even bigger idiot if he let go of something as beautiful as this. But after hurting you, even though he never meant to, Seungcheol knew he couldn't just walk back into your life like he was welcome to do so anytime.

Your phone call ended and you chucked your device back in your bag. As you were turning to leave, Seungcheol panicked. Getting out of his car, he called out your name as loud as he could.

“What the–” you blurted, surprised to hear someone shouting your name. When you spotted Seungcheol walking towards you, you scowled. “Choi Seungcheol?”

“Hi,” he sputtered. He held your hand as soon as you were within his reach. “Can we talk?”

“Now? I’m kind of in the middle of something–”

“It won’t take long, I swear. I just need to tell you something.”

You glanced inside the cafe and then at Seungcheol. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” he confessed, almost out of breath. “I’m so sorry. Can we do this again? Let’s try again, can we?”

“Cheol, what do you mean? Where’s Mina? What happened?”

“She’s gone, y/n. It didn’t work.”

You retracted your hand from his hold, glaring at him as you stepped back. “Are you serious? Did you come here because it didn’t work out with Mina?”

“What? No!” he denied strongly, reaching for your hand again but you backed away.

“I don’t think we should be talking right now, Cheol,” you told him, genuinely concerned. “You don’t seem to be in the right headspace. You’re not even acting like yourself.”

You were right. He was rash and impulsive. This was unlike him at all. “I’m sorry.”

You were about to speak when a group of people walked out of the cafe laughing and chattering. Seungcheol recognized his uncle among the students.

“There you are, y/n. We’ve been waiting for you inside. What took you so long?” the Professor asked. Then he noticed Seungcheol there so his face glowed. “Seungcheol! I didn’t expect to run into you here!”

“Uncle,” he said meekly, eyeing you curiously. “I was just passing by.”

The elder man laughingly walked up to Seungcheol, giving him a pat on the shoulder before proudly saying, “This is Attorney Choi Seungcheol. He’s an alumna of our university. My dear nephew.”

A chorus of ‘Nice to meet you’s was heard from the group, to which Seungcheol replied with, “Good to meet you too.”

“How do you know y/n?” the professor asked Seungcheol who seemed to hesitate.

“He’s an acquaintance, Prof,” you replied curtly.

The elder nodded. “Very well then. You should join us for dinner. My students just passed an important exam so I’m treating them to dinner.”

You panicked. “I think Mr. Choi is busy–”

“I’d love to, uncle!” he chimed, grinning. “I brought my car. The rest of them can carpool with me.”

“Good. Good. Let’s go.”

The group proceeded with excited chatter while you lagged behind. Seungcheol hesitated to speak to you and as he was about to try, you shook your head to dissuade him.

At this point, Seungcheol is improvising–something he’s never done in his life before. He’s hoping that it’s worth it.

[To be continued in Part 2]

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