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#I SEE YOU AS THE COOL AND FRIENDLY MUTUAL
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*Sees someone on twitter arguing that DoorDash is necessary for the disabled because microwave food is too much to handle.*
...What. That seems absurdly specific.
There are a lot of reasons someone might not be able to microwave food. "I literally cannot get out of bed", "i need nutrients you can't just microwave", "my dumb brain has put up 18 billion barriers to try and stop me from eating and this is the loophole I have" "the microwave in this apartment is out of reach/not labeled properly/not ADA friendly in another way" "for x or y reason microwave food is a one way ticket to severe burns", etc. I found a lot of reasons someone might need DoorDash and I also found this cool article about food sharing in the disabled community and how the author had to rely on an abusive partner once because she was either in bed or barely able to crawl and they were among the few people bringing food.
Just saying, there's a reason disabled people have higher chances of food insecurity and there's a reason meal trains, meals on wheels, and other programs focus on bringing food to people in need and not just assuming "they have a microwave and money, why bother?". Sometimes you don't have a family or friends or mutual aid group to bring you meals when you can't even pop something in the microwave.
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ssreeder · 3 months
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bro i swear ara might be one of my Favorite characters she makes me so sad but i also like girly get a grip 😭 i love the way u write everbody especially sokka because hes so different but still has his yk quirks and tbh when ppl write him romantically they kinda leave it out
heres ara cuz i am this 🤏🏻 Close to just giving her a playlist since shes so ..woman. yk what i mean??
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anyway i kinda Imagine her cut to be simliar to zuko and very uneven cuz bro Zhao will not acutally give a fuck to at least make it nice
this is just a fall from grace even tho its Basically the best thing right now since shes away from all that crazy shit
OMG ITS THE GIRL! The one & only Ara!!! I love how you did a before and after, girl thought she had her shit handled! Only to have her shit handed to her. She has serious sad girl energy but you’re so right she needs to handle it haha.
Thank you so much for this I am squealing with joy you’re amazing!!!
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rotisseries · 8 months
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actually now that the clique thing is a few days old, i didn't really get involved for a reason and I don't feel super strongly in either direction
but I will say that like. while there's certainly a problem of less interaction on the fanworks/posts from less popular blogs, this isn't really a byler exclusive issue? this happens in most fandoms these days, interaction is just on a decline in general which IS. a problem but not really a "byler tumblr is cliquey" problem. in regards to any actual cliques I wouldn't say they don't exist but I don't think it's "the popular kids" themselves doing this. I don't know if the rest of you have some other bloggers in mind that I don't know about, but as someone who is mutuals with a fair amount of who I thought were the popular blogs, they are always very nice and welcoming to me, and actually easy to talk to once you just. see them and talk to them as a normal human and not an omnipotent fandom god. so this is all to say that if there's a clique issue I think it's from the outside. I think maybe people are perceiving these bigger blogs who all happen to be friends as these untouchable idols in fandom and it's. making it cliquey from the outside. like are they a clique or have you just convinced yourself they wouldn't want anything to do with you and isolated this group from everyone else. this isn't to say that people can't be assholes of course just that I don't think any of this is intentional
#I think a lot of post interaction problems are also just probably coming from the fact that I don't think anyone checks the tag anymore#I certainly don't. I just keep up with what my mutuals are posting#and my mutuals are posting their work and they're sharing their friend's work or the work their friend shared from someone else#so if you're a little known blogger it can just be harder because. your posts just aren't making it as far you have a few followers#and they have even fewer. and so unless you get an anomaly popularity boost it'll be harder for a post to get traction#also “it's a clique bc all the popular blogs are friends and only associate with each other” well they have been friends for months#or a year now. and also probably were not as popular when that friendship started#so it's more like. a friend group forms and then when one of you gets a popularity boost so do the others bc you're friends#and then next thing you know it's a friend group of popular bloggers#anyway. all this to say get out and make some friends! either I'm right and this will actually fix the problem#or there really is a clique in which case why tf would you want to associate with them anyway#but genuinely this is rich coming from me actually known to most as godawful at talking to people irl#but it's really so simple to make tumblr friends it just requires you to be a little brave and genuine#if you see someone posting a lot of cool stuff follow them!! and then get in their askbox and talk to them about something#if they have an au you really like talk to them about that if they have some music they've been posting about check it out#and tell them what you thought!#just like. be friendly and open they'll probably respond in kind and next thing you know you have a really cool friend#anyway if you're one of my mutuals and you saw me like a post the other day or whatever that might feel contrary to this#well the other day I was just watching things go down lmao#I didn't care what any posts said I was busy with my own discourse lol#(and also if you're ANOTHER mutual wondering wtf this post is about don't worry about that)#idk I think I just. haven't really witnessed cliquey behavior but I see posts about this with enough notes#that sometimes I think. well you guys gotta be experiencing SOMETHING so idk. idk#I guess this is another “some people just have friends” post#anyway I think a good thing to remember here also is that we're arguing about popularity on Tumblr Dot Com. brother we are bloggers#and we're calling it cliques. like a highschool movie
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queermycelium · 1 year
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imagine being in your thirties and sending anon hate
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alastors-wife · 1 year
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Some of you really need to remember that people on the internet are complete strangers. Like some of the behaviors I see are just so deeply concerning.
Also not everyone is going to like you, and you're not going to like everyone. That's a fact of life.
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hazyhae · 3 months
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roomie high | lmk
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stoner!roommate!mark -> roommates to ???
summary: looking for a weed-friendly roommate lands you in a living situation with mark lee. you find it harder and harder to mask your attraction to the man, and soon find that weed isn't the only thing you'll be getting high on.
wc: 3.8k 18+ mdni
cw: afab!gn!reader, weed/marijuana use, sex under the influence of weed, unprotected penetrative sex but he pulls out, oral (reader receiving), baby as petname, mark calls reader dude, reader calls mark markie, instigator friend haechan, masturbation, slight voyeurism (mark catches reader mb), multiple orgasms
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when you asked around if any of your friends knew anyone looking for a weed-friendly roommate, you didn’t expect to end up living with mark lee of all people.
you and mark weren’t friends per se, but you weren’t exactly strangers either. you had mutual friends and the two of you always exchanged a wave whenever in the same area, but you’ve never actually talked. you knew his name because of your friends, and you assumed it was the same for him.
what sets you apart is the fact that you’ve been attracted to him since the first time you saw him light up a joint at one of your mutual friend’s hangouts.
you remember the way his eyes never left the person he was talking to as he inhaled, taking a second to let it settle before turning his head to blow it off to the side.
the vision of him engulfed in a hazy cloud of smoke has not since left your mind, wishing you were the person reflected in his glossy eyes.
when you had to find another apartment after your lease ended due to their newly-implemented no-smoking policy, your only criteria for a new roommate was a) not being a murderer and b) weed-friendly.
you had asked your friends at another one of the hangouts, and your loud-mouthed friend haechan knew just the perfect person to ask.
you cringe, remembering how he called mark over with a loud voice. you were face to face with the person you had been admiring for a while, as a potential roommate no less, and haechan’s loud mouth blabbered on about your situation until you made him shut up.
mark lived in a two bedroom apartment, and his old roommate moved in with their partner, so he needed someone to fill the empty room. he was honestly perfect for your situation.
“i mean, i’m cool with it, if you are..?” mark asked, beady eyes staring into yours. you felt like you were dreaming.
“..yeah, we can talk about it after today,” you had responded, chiding yourself for the awkward pause. you needed to find a new place to live fast, and as far as you knew, mark lee was no murderer.
and so you sealed your fate to live with the object of your affections.
if you thought mark was attractive before living together, it’s even harder now to hide your attraction now that you’ve gotten to know him better.
4 months of living together has given you plenty of time to bond, and at some point you do find yourself becoming more comfortable with mark. you find your work schedules align pretty well, so you often end your nights with a meal and a smoke session.
you think back on the first time you smoked together.
“hey dude, uh.. house-warming smoke?” he had asked shyly with his cute lopsided grin after you had finished moving in the last of your things. his eyes were darting around, holding a shoebox you assume held his weed supplies.
never being one to turn down a smoke, you accepted, and it took everything in you not to stare. the way he rolled the joint so quickly with a concentrated face had you questioning your self control. how can someone be so endearing?
weed always does the job of breaking the ice, and after passing back the joint back and forth, you found yourself in comfortable conversation with your new roommate. thus settled your new routine.
as much as you told yourself afterwards to keep it cool, it’s kind of hard now that you see that same sight that made you fall for the man in the first place almost every night in your living room. and now you are the person in his sights.
it’s so easy for you and mark get lost in your high thoughts, and the conversations often go until the late hours of the night. a lot of those nights, the two of you will knock out cold on the couch.
while you think your platonic connection could help you to calm your feelings down, these times you bond with him only lead to the opposite.
everything about mark when he’s high gets you riled up.
his glazed over, hooded eyes, the deep breaths he takes as he lets his high settle, the deep groans that leave him when when he stretches after being sunk into the couch for too long.
it all goes straight to between your legs.
you’re ashamed to admit it, but a lot of the times after mark’s knocked out for the night, you can’t help but stumble into your bed, shoving your hand between your thighs to relieve the ache that is a direct result of mark lee.
it all feels so different when you’re high. your senses are heightened, feeling the pads of your own lubricated fingers running up your slit thinking of the man who made you this wet, wishing it were his fingers instead.
you find that you always cum a little harder when it’s mark on your mind, and after some point, you can cum only thinking about him.
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after another night of smoking and relieving your sexual frustrations after he’s fallen asleep, you feel of twinge of guilt when you wake up to a groggy mark in the living room.
it’s difficult to act like everything’s normal when there’s nothing more you want than for him to stuff you full.
“if you’re making coffee can i also get a cup, please? i’m gonna be fighting for my life at work today..” he asks while still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. he’s just so cute, and you just feel even more ashamed at the not-so-innocent thoughts you constantly have about him.
you head to work for the day, and towards the end of your shift in comes the very friend that got you into this living arrangement.
“so have you fucked your roomie yet?” haechan teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
“hyuck, i’m going to need you to stop talking.” you glare at him.
“what?? i’m not the one making goo-goo eyes at mark fucking lee,” haechan snaps back too quickly.
“i swear if you say a fucking word to him, you’re dead.” you start to inch closer to him.
“i’m just trying to support you, my friend. i heard his dick is hu-”
you slap your hands over his mouth. “let’s stop it right there.”
haechan bursts into laughter at your anger, and you want to kick him out but this shift has already drained all your energy.
just as haechan is about to start teasing, you see a very familiar head of blonde hair making its way to you.
“mark?? what are you doing here?” you are surprised to see him at your work place. he’s only been here a couple of times and he always texted you before he would come.
haechan daps up mark, looking between the two of you with a grin.
“i got outta work a little early so i thought i’d come by and we can get take out for dinner on the way home?” as much as you see him at your apartment, something about him coming to get you from work just feels so intimate.
“take out sounds good with me!” haechan butts in a little too happily before you can say anything.
you and mark give him a look. it’s not the first time he’s invited himself over. he’s smiling at the two of you for a moment before laughing again.
“i’m just kidding guys, you should see the looks on your faces.” he turns on his heel to head back to his own apartment. “wouldn’t want to interrupt anything, see you later cuties!”
your friend is gone before either of you can say anything. mark looks confused, and your face burns at haechan’s insinuations that there’s anything going on that he’d be interrupting.
“wha- interrupting? interrupting what?” mark turns to you with a confused face.
even his confusion you find endearing, but you are quick to change the subject. “he’s just being stupid, what do you wanna get for dinner?”
mark nods, chuckling. “hmm i don’t know. what do you want?” he responds, mind trying to settle on a dinner spot.
you. i want you. your thoughts ring.
“let’s get some noodles from down the street, i’ve been craving them.” you push your desires to the back of your mind and get excited at the thought of the comfort food. mark smiles warmly at you.
“sure, it’s on me tonight!” he offers excitedly. your face gets warm.
“thank you, markie.”
“anything for you.” his voice is just a bit too tender for your heart to take.
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at home, the two of you light up before digging into your food, but something about mark today is a little different.
he’s always nice, but he’s going out of his way to be even nicer.
it’s a little too cold in your living room, and he goes to his room to put on a hoodie. to your surprise, he also brings one back for you. when he sees your confused face when he hands it to you, he starts sputtering.
“oh shit, uhh, wait my bad you totally could’ve just gotten one of yours.” you shake your head, feeling grateful and also wanting to seize the opportunity.
“no, i’ll take yours, too lazy to get up. thank you,” you beam at him.
settling into the couch, you’re having trouble lighting the joint, so he puts it in his own mouth, lighting it before holding it up to your lips so you can take a hit.
he doesn’t realize what he’s doing to you, or maybe he does, but you’re too caught up in the feeling of being wrapped in mark’s scent, cuddled into his hoodie as you slowly hotbox the apartment.
it’s a friday night, so you two can smoke as much as you want, having the weekend off. and smoke you do.
as the night progresses, the two of you have made your way through 3 joints, and mark holds his pipe in hand ready to light up a bit more.
you’re honestly both high as shit, and you both know it too. every little thing on the tv is the funniest thing you’ve ever seen, and your noodles are long gone.
you look at mark through hooded lids, admiring how he takes a long drag from his pipe, handing it to you before letting the smoke seep from his lips. you take a hit and set it down.
“i’m about to be glued to this couch for the next 24 hours,” mark drawls out. he readjusts himself on the couch, letting out a sound that’s a borderline moan, and it doesn’t escape your ears.
if only he knew that was the icing on the cake sending you back to your room to take care of the growing aching between your legs. mark slowly dozes off, softly snoring, and you know that’s your cue to escape to bed.
you wobble into your room, the high still fresh and raging as you lazily push your door to close and immediately settle into bed with your hand shoved into your pants.
mark’s smell is still very much so embedded into his hoodie, and it only serves to heighten your imagination.
your mind jumps to a vision of mark and you on the couch, with you bouncing on his cock as he lets out his delicious groans into your ear.
you think of his tender, “anything for you,” from earlier today, and how much of a gentleman he was. it just riles you up more as you insert your fingers into your entrance.
when mark falls asleep after smoking, he’s knocked out cold for the night, so you aren’t worried about him waking up. you think you’re holding your voice back, but your mind is hazy from the weed and your moans are not as quiet as you think.
mark is fast asleep on the couch, but a sudden vibration of his phone laying on top of his chest jolts him awake.
“what the…” he rubs his eyes, moving to get up and go to his room to lay in the comfort of his bed. he’s still so high, and he almost misses a soft cry coming from the direction of your room. almost.
he turns his head to your room, seeing your door slightly open with the warm light from your bedside lamp peaking through. he thinks he’s hearing things until he hears it again.
but it’s not just a cry, it’s the sound of a name.
his name. in your voice.
“m-mark. oh fuck, mark.”
there’s no way what he thinks is going on is happening, but as he approaches the door, his suspicions are not only confirmed by the repetition of his name, but the view of you that comes into his vision.
you’re on your bed, wearing only his hoodie and underwear that currently houses your hand. your legs are spread and your head is thrown back as you moan out his name.
mark’s mouth goes dry, and he immediately feels himself harden. this can’t be a high dream, right? he pinches himself. nope, not a dream.
he swallows thickly as he processes everything going on in front of him. sober mark would be more hesitant, but high mark says fuck it. you’re literally calling out to him.
you don’t even notice your roommate come in until you feel a dip in your bed. you gasp, immediately closing your legs as your head snaps up to make eye contact with the intruder.
you look up to see mark, his eyes intense as they meet yours.
“mark! oh my fucki- get out!” you start to ramble, shocked at this situation. “i swear it’s not what it looks like.. i just-”
“what does it look like, baby?” mark comes closer to you. you immediately stop at his words, mouth opening in shock at the petname. mark continues.
“that you’re getting your pretty little self off while moaning my name? what are you thinking about?” he settles in front of your now curled up form.
“or, who are you thinking about? cause i think i can guess who,” he says lowly, lips forming a slight grin as he peers into your widened eyes.
this isn’t just a product of being high out of your mind, right?
you sit up slightly.
“mark.. you aren’t weirded out?” you ask hesitantly.
“why would i be? in fact, let me show you how i’m feeling.” time seems to slow as mark grabs your hand and leads your hand to his sweats. you gasp as you feel how hard - and big - he is.
“sorry for the interruption, but let’s get back to it? i’d love to give you a hand, baby,” mark backs up, pulling you by the waist until you’re propped on your back atop your pillows. he settles between your legs.
“all wrapped up in my hoodie, just like a present,” mark says lowly, his eyes moving down as he lifts up the bottom of his hoodie to meet your soaked underwear. “is all this for me?”
you’re still in shock, honestly, but even this is a high fever dream, you’re taking full advantage of it.
“it’s all for you, markie,” you manage to let out.
he immediately jumps into action even in his high state, getting on his stomach to go down on you. he doesn’t even bother taking off your underwear. he’s tasting you as your panties get even more soaked, your arousal combining with his spit.
mark uses one hand to move your panties to the side, and you gasp at the direct contact.
“oh god mark, feels too fucking good,” you moan out. your body is already feeling so good from the amount of weed coursing through your blood, but mark’s tongue is sending chills throughout your entire being.
your eyes roll and toes curl at the pleasure, hands coming to grip his hair as he lets the mixture of his spit and your juices flow down his chin onto your bed.
mark buries his nose into your clit, looking up at you, and as if you sense him staring, you look back down to meet his eyes.
the sight of him gripping your thigh with one arm as his other hand works to get you off is something beyond your wildest dreams, and it has you cumming only seconds after locking eyes.
mark stares up at you in wonder, groaning as you throw your head up and let out a cry, legs shaking around his head as he helps you ride out your orgasm.
when he sits back up to admire his work, he swears he could cum then and there. in his sights is you still in his hoodie, eyes teary, panting from the pleasure he gave you, and underwear absolutely soaked.
“fuck, baby, you tasted too good.” he’s so hard it hurts.
as you come down, you look up at him, catching his breath, lips still shiny, and eyes absolutely piercing. the haze of the high is still there, and you both know exactly what needs to come next.
“mark, fuck me, please.”
“…anything for you, baby,” mark replies. he takes off his shirt and sweats, and your hands move to take his hoodie off of you when he stops you.
“no, keep it on. i need to fill you up like this,” he says, tone slightly pleading. if he was already beyond turned on seeing you get off in his hoodie, fucking you in it would be a whole different story.
“condoms?” he asks.
“i’m on the pill, and i haven’t fucked anyone in a really long time,” you reply, getting slightly impatient. you just want to feel him.
mark doesn’t realize it straight away, but he’s so happy to hear that. “me too, baby.”
he lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down your slit to coat himself in your arousal. you moan out at the teasing, still sensitive from earlier.
“stop teasing, need you so bad mark,” you groan. he grins.
“shh, need to take my time stretching you out, baby.” he latches his head onto your entrance, slowly pushing the tip in. just the tip has you seeing stars.
“fuck mark, w-why are you so big..” the stretch burns, but he slowly inches himself in, letting you adjust.
“you’re so t-tight,” he chokes out, teeth clenching as he feels your walls start to engulf him. if he moves too fast, he knows he’ll cum too soon.
as he bottoms out, the two of you moan into each other, his forehead resting on yours as you both feel each other.
“can i kiss you, dude?” mark asks a bit too innocently for the situation you’re in, and your resulting laugh sends a vibration through you that has you both moaning out.
“i can’t believe you just called me dude when your dick is literally inside of me right now, of course you can kiss me,” you give him the okay, and right away his lips are on yours.
the kiss is sluggish yet deep, and he starts to move his hips ever so slightly as he deepens your kiss further. his hips start to pick up more speed gradually, and you separate from his lips as you gasp out.
you’re moaning his name and he’s moaning yours, both of your thoughts unable to form coherently. the only thing you have in mind is each other and how good you both feel.
his hips start to rut into you more desperately, his pelvis hitting your sensitive bud as deep groans leave his throat.
you’re getting lost in the rocking motion, feeling drool leak from the side of your mouth. his cock reaches a place so deep inside of you no other has reached.
mark is also feeling it, mind spinning as his breaths leave him harshly. he’s knows he’s not gonna last long.
“fuck baby, i need you to cum on my cock.” he punctuates his words with his hand resting on your lower stomach as he starts to thumb at your clit.
your eyes shut tight at the feeling, already reaching another high. the band in your stomach tightens and tightens as mark rubs harsh circles in tempo with his quickening thrusts, and in a second the band snaps.
you cum hard around mark, and mark almost has to stop from how tight you’re gripping around him, walls pulsating as you ride out your high. relieved at you finishing and unable to hold back any longer, mark pulls out and finishes, cum landing on the hoodie you’re wearing.
he collapses next to you, and the two of you catch your breath as you come down from both your sex and weed highs.
mark’s too fucked out to realize he came on his own hoodie, but you’re the one to point it out. already feeling your eyes droop with fatigue, you tiredly joke with him.
“markie, you came all over your hoodie, how am i supposed to stay warm tonight?” you hope he’s picking up what you’re trying to say, and luckily he does. he sits up, tugging the hoodie off your form and tossing it to the side.
“nah dude, i can do a better job than that old hoodie.” mark lays back down, gathering you into his arms. you lay your head against his chest tucked under his chin and close your eyes.
both of you have cooled down, and the feeling of his skin on yours is just what you need. the warmth from mark’s body wrapped around you lulls you to start dozing off.
mark calls your name.
“what is it, markie?”
he’s silent for a second before you feel his chin shift atop your head. he’s smiling.
“round 2 in the morning?”
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thank you for reading!! this is the fastest fic i've written so far so hopefully it's okayy. happy new year!!! ♡ in luv with mark lee rn
-coco :)
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smileysuh · 8 months
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rogue
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🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “Lay back,” he instructs next. “I’m going to take your panties off.” Your heart races in your chest as you realize what he’s about to do, and you fall onto your elbows on the hood of his car, breathing heavily as Wonwoo leans down and begins to press kisses up your bare legs. His fingers hook in your panties, and he drags them down, exposing your hot core to the cool evening air. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, and as Wonwoo positions your thighs over his broad shoulders, you think you might actually faint from the tension.
tw/cw. protected sex, pussy eating, blow job, deep throating, swallowing, oral (f/m receiving), exhibitionism (sex at a lover's lookout on the hood of his car), multiple sex scenes, Wonwoo's broad shoulders #confirmed, teasing through panties, hair pulling, breast worship, mutual orgasm, night terrors, mentions of a bad past, cuddling, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.5k I collab. 70's collab
🍭 aus. 70's au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I've been missing Wonwoo, and when his spot in the collab was open, I figured why not?
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It’s an hour into the date and you already wish you’d stayed at home. A walk through the town followed by bowling had sounded like a great way to get to know the location you’ve just moved to- however, the guy showing you around is something of a wet towel.
He looks cute enough, but then again, your housemate had promised he would. His name is Carter, and he’s just over six feet tall, with blonde hair, a worn jean jacket, and a nice smile. You’ve tried to give him the benefit of doubt, you really have, but there are some guys you simply can’t force a spark with, and unfortunately, he’s one of them.
When you reach the bowling alley, Carter holds the door open for you, and you flash him a small smile, entering the space. 
“Are you excited?” your roommate, Mary, asks. She links her arm with yours, stepping away from her own date to give the boys a moment to talk by the front door while she drags you further into the establishment.
“For bowling?” You look around. “Sure.”
“Carter’s nice, isn’t he?” she presses.
You sigh. “Sure.” 
Movement catches your attention, and your gaze shifts to a man working behind the shoe counter. He’s in a dark green sweater, and his black hair shines in the light of the bowling alley. Now he is someone who interests you, and you find yourself tugging on Mary.
“Let's grab shoes,” you tell her. 
“Welcome to the bowling alley,” the worker greets you with a smile, and you find that his face is even more handsome while lit up with a friendly expression. “Have you two been here before?”
“I have,” Mary answers for you. “But she’s new to town, so this is her first time.” Your housemate nudges your shoulder and you swallow thickly, nodding.
“It can’t be much different from the bowling alleys in my last city,” you offer.
“You’re right about that,” the pretty man nods. “What size shoe can I grab you?”
You and Mary give him your sizes and he leans down, retrieving the shoes from under the counter. When he passes them over to you, your fingers briefly touch, and your gaze darts up to meet his own. 
There’s a very brief pause, a frozen moment that feels like forever, and then he’s tugging his fingers away. 
“How much do we owe you?” Mary asks. “For a game?”
“You two are on a double date, aren’t you?” the man asks.
“How could you tell?” you laugh, feeling a little dejected that being out with Carter might dissuade this pretty man in front of you from seeing you as a girl who’s on the market, which you most definitely are.
“I can always tell these sorts of things,” the worker grins. “I’ll let your dates pay when they stop talking by the door and come for shoes.”
“You’re new in town too, right?” Mary asks suddenly, eying the man behind the counter up and down.
“How could you tell?”
“I feel like I’d remember you,” Mary insists. “Besides, most of the guys in this town would have let us pay. You strike me as a good one, someone not from here.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the worker nods.
“What’s your name?” you ask suddenly, feeling the urge to know it, if even to know him better.
“Wonwoo,” he says, and suddenly coming out tonight feels like the best possible thing you could have done with your time. 
You tell him your own name, and he smiles softly at you.
“Enjoy your date,” Wonwoo muses, nodding to the two men who have now come to grab their own shoes.
It sucks to be reminded that you are, in fact, on a date with Carter even while partially drooling over Wonwoo. With a small sigh, you follow Mary to one of the free alleys. There are new mechanized automatic scorer machines, and Mary types in the nickname ‘Baby’ for herself, before nudging you to write in your own. 
“Choose something cute,” she tells you, watching over your shoulder.
You punch in the nickname ‘Angel’ and she nods, satisfied. 
“Now for Carter, put in Big Guy, and my date should be named Handsome,” Mary insists.
“Are you sure they won’t want to choose their own nicknames?” you ask.
“Who cares what they want?” she shrugs. “I think they’ll like these names.”
With a sigh, you do as you’re told. Your dates approach, and you all slip on your shoes, slotting your discarded runners under the bench you’re sitting on while Mary stands up to bowl first.
It’s a nice establishment, and there’s a Beatles record playing that gives the space a nice ambiance. However, no matter how hard you try, your attention keeps slipping back to Wonwoo.
He’s seated in his little work table station, and you catch him staring back at you a few times when you try to casually look over your shoulder at him. 
When Carter moves closer,  resting his arm around you, your gaze is quick to dart to Wonwoo, who laughs, looking down at the makeshift paper airplane he’s playing with in his hands.
You get the sense that he’s amused by your interactions with Carter, who lays on the affection more and more as the date continues. In fact, Carter even stands up to show you how to bowl properly, and despite your attempts to squash his so-called ‘help’ he still ends up flattening against your back and guiding you on how to hold your arm when you toss the ball down the lane.
You’re starting to have enough of Carter, and the temptation to go talk to the person you’re really interested in gets the better of you. “Do you guys want drinks?” you ask, addressing your foursome.
“A coke!” Mary chips. 
“Make that two,” says her date.
“How about four?” Carter asks, pulling out his wallet to hand you a bill. “Unless you want me to come with you to grab them?”
“No, it’s your turn to bowl. I’ll manage,” you assure him.
He gives you a look that tells you he doesn’t quite believe you, but you’re already running away with his money in your hand. Your eyes are fixed on Wonwoo, who straightens up as you approach.
“Did I hear something about four cokes?” he asks.
“You have good ears,” you muse, nodding. “And yeah, four cokes sounds good.”
“Coming right up,” he smiles, heading from the shoe area to the location they keep beverages. There’s another worker in that section, but he’s so busy playing crossword he doesn’t even look up when Wonwoo begins messing around and grabbing glasses.
“So…” you watch the gorgeous man work, enjoying the way he pushes up his sleeves, revealing strong forearms. “Looks like we’re both new in town.”
“Looks that way,” he agrees. 
“How are you liking it?”
“You know, the Pacific Northwest is never somewhere I thought I’d end up,” he admits, looking at you while filling the cups with coke. 
“Really?” You assess him up and down. “Are you not a big fan of trees, mist, and small mountain towns?”
“Not a fan of mosquitos,” Wonwoo grins.
“Okay, now that I can understand,” you laugh. 
“How’d you end up here?”
“I’m not sure,” you say honestly. “I’d driven through this place a few times, and when I decided I needed to get away from my parents, it felt like a good intermediary location.”
“So you’re not planning on staying here forever?” Wonwoo cocks his head.
“Definitely not.”
“Does that big guy you’re on a date with realize this isn’t a forever thing?” 
You let out a small laugh, turning to look at Carter, who is glaring daggers at Wonwoo. “My date’s not even a this week thing,” you admit.
“No?” At this point, you think Wonwoo is purposefully taking his time filling the cups, and you enjoy getting to chat with him. “Why’s that?”
“He’s not my type.”
“He’s tall, blonde, buys you things, holds doors open, offers to show you how to bowl…” Wonwoo counts up Carter’s virtues. “Sounds like the kind of guy any girl in this town would die for.”
“And you’re an expert on what women want?” You cock a brow at the worker. 
“I guess not,” Wonwoo admits. “You tell me then, what’s your type?”
You think on it for a moment, then grin. “Cute guys, with dark hair, who wear soft looking sweaters, and work in bowling alleys.”
There’s a beat of silence, and Wonwoo simply stares at you. Then he swallows thickly, and you watch his adam’s apple bob with effort. “Can I take you out sometime?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“I’ll just need to grab your landline number-” Wonwoo begins to explain, but you’re already reaching for a napkin.
“Pen?”
“One sec,” Wonwoo turns and plucks the pencil out of his coworker’s hand, and the man looks up from his crossword in shock. “I’ll give this right back,” Wonwoo promises before handing it to you.
You scribble down your landline number. “I live in a house with two other girls, so you’ll have to ask for me by name,” you explain, signing the napkin just in case he forgets.
“You got it,” Wonwoo grins, accepting your number when you’re finished with it. 
“I work evenings,” you explain, “so call in the afternoon, okay?”
“Definitely.” He grabs two of the drinks. “Now let me help you carry these back to your friends.”
“You’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you?” you smile, picking up the other two cups and beginning to walk back to your bowling lane while Wonwoo follows.
“Sometimes,” he muses. “I try.”
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It’s been less than twenty four hours since Wonwoo met you and he’s already feeling eager to call. His shift is going slow, and as noon rolls around, he finds himself inching closer to the telephone. 
The napkin with your digits is practically burning a hole into his pocket and he pulls it out gingerly, careful not to damage it in any way.
“I’m gonna take a five minute break,” Wonwoo calls to his workmate, who simply nods while completing his crossword. Wonwoo doubts anyone will come in while he does this, but at the same time, he’s not looking to get fired from this shitty job anytime soon.
He begins to dial your number into the phone that hangs on the wall behind the till, and when he’s done, he presses the handset to his ear. His fingers begin to play with the wirey chord, and he looks down at his shoes while it rings.
“Hello?” a feminine voice answers, and Wonwoo is quick to realize it’s not you on the other end of the line.
“Uh, hi,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “I’m calling for y/n?”
“One second,” the girl on the line yells your name loudly and Wonwoo nearly drops the phone from the shrill noise of it all. “Oh, and who’s calling?”
“Tell her it’s the bowling alley guy,” Wonwoo says dumbly. He’s not sure if you’ll remember his name, and he wants to make things easy for you.
“Bowling alley guy?!” The woman sounds excited. “I met you last night! I knew y/n was flirting with you- I knew it!”
“Uh… yeah?” Wonwoo’s really not sure what to say to women most days, let alone during a conversation like this one.
“Poor Carter,” the woman sighs. “He’s going to be devastated.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Wonwoo lies. He thinks it feels like the right thing to say, so he says it. 
“Mary, give me the phone.” Now that is your voice, and Wonwoo perks up, holding his breath while he hears a murmured exchange. “Wonwoo?”
“Hey,” he smiles. “Uh, yeah, it’s me.”
“You work fast, don’t you.” He can hear the grin in your own voice and it makes his widen.
“I’m not the kind of guy who plays games or anything,” Wonwoo tells you honestly. “I was really happy to get your number, so I thought I’d call.”
“I’m glad you did.”
There’s a pause while Wonwoo builds up his courage.
He’s done many things in his life, things that people would say were much harder than asking a girl out, and yet, he finds himself becoming tongue tied just talking to you. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and counting to three, like they’d taught him how to do in the military before doing anything that might be considered drastic.
“Are you still interested in going out sometime?” he asks. 
“I’d love to.”
His heart skips a beat.
“What were you thinking of doing together?” you question.
He had definitely not thought that far ahead, but he can’t back down now. He scrambles for date ideas, and the first one in his head is, “How about I take you to a roller rink.”
“A roller rink, huh?” You let out a small laugh and he worries he’s suggested the wrong thing.
“We can do something else if you want,” he immediately back pedals.
“No, a roller rink is good,” you assure him. “But I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it.”
“Well… you can hold onto me if you’re afraid you’re going to fall.”
“You know what? I just might,” you giggle again and the sound makes his entire body buzz with happy energy.
He’d never thought when he moved to this stupid small town in the Pacific Northwest that he’d meet a girl like you, and he hardly even knows you yet. 
Wonwoo truly can’t explain his attraction to you- it’s simply a feeling he has. Sure, you’re gorgeous, but there’s something deeper, something he can’t put his finger on. He wants to figure you out, and he can’t wait to discover what makes you tick.
“When are you free?” Wonwoo asks.
“Well, it’s Monday now, let me just check my schedule again,” you’re silent for a moment except the sound of a paper flipping. “I generally work Friday through Tuesday, so how about we say Wednesday or Thursday?”
“Wednesday works,” Wonwoo says, pulling out a pen to write it into his own schedule book he keeps in his back pocket.
“Are you that eager to see me?” 
He can hear your smile again, and he can visualize it in his minds eye. God, you’re beautiful.
“Maybe,” he admits. “For a town that mostly gets rain, it’s nice to see a little sunshine every now and again.”
The line is quiet, and he worries again if he’s said the wrong thing. Then you let out a shaky laugh. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”
“Not usually,” Wonwoo says seriously.
“No?” you tease. “So you don’t use your job as a place to hit on girls?”
“Never.”
“That’s good to hear.” 
“What time should we meet? Or do you want me to pick you up?” Wonwoo is simply eager to get the details solidified in his notebook, to get things written in stone so to speak.
“I live close to the roller rink, so how about we meet there? Does seven sound okay?”
“Works for me,” he nods, eyes shifting to the front door of the bowling alley where a customer has just walked in. “Look, I gotta go-”
“Me too, have a good shift Wonwoo. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
He can’t fucking wait.
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You’d chosen one of your cutest outfits. Mary had even whistled when you left your room in the denim pantsuit number, her eyes skimming down to the flared pant legs. “So this is what you wear when you really like a guy,” she’d mused. 
You’d done a small twirl, showing off how great the pants make your bum look, and she’d warned you that if Wonwoo got handsy, he’d have her to deal with.
“He’ll be fine,” you’d assured her. “He’s a nice guy.”
“You don’t even know him,” she’s pointed out, and you suppose there’s truth to that. However, at the same time, you just feel like Wonwoo’s not someone who’s a threat, not to you anyways.
He seems like a nice guy, a genuinely nice guy, and excitement surges through you as you make your way to the roller rink.
Wonwoo meets you outside, and you note the way his eyes widen as he looks you up and down. He has the decency to make the motion quick, and you think it must be an automatic reaction, one he’s even ashamed of, because his cheeks flare a pretty pink colour.
He’s absolutely adorable. 
Like Carter had, Wonwoo pulls out all the stops. He holds the door open to the rink for you, and pays the small fee to enter. The two of you trade your shoes over and he even bends down to help you tie up the laces on your roller blades, checking to make sure they’re not too tight.
“Have you don’t this before?” he asks as you rise on shaky legs.
“Once,” you admit, noting the steadiness he has in his form. “Have you?”
“Never, but I’ve got good balance,” Wonwoo smiles softly at you.
“I’ll say,” you laugh, shocked at how well he’s holding himself up while you’re wobbling already. 
“Here,” he holds out his hand, and you take it, grateful at the extra stability you gain by having him next to you. The two of you make your way to the side of the roller rink and you watch couples going around in circles. 
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” you sigh, feeling overwhelmed by the speed and ease at which the other people are moving.
“You can do it,” Wonwoo assures you. “I won’t let you fall.”
“Promise?” You squeeze his hand.
“Promise.” He squeezes yours back, and then he takes a step onto the rink, looking back at you.
You take a deep breath before following him, grabbing at his arm with your free hand. The rink is much more slippery than the carpeted floors had been, and you marvel again at Wonwoo’s balance.
“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you ask in shock.
“Positive,” Wonwoo grins.
“I don’t believe you,” you laugh, letting him pull you along as you get the hang of being on roller skates.
“You don’t have to believe me,” Wonwoo muses, turning so he can hold both your hands. He’s moving backward now, and you think he must be lying to you. “You just have to focus on your feet.”
“While you focus on what? You’re skating backwards!”
“I’m focusing on you,” Wonwoo says softly, flashing you a small smile. 
“You and your charming words again,” you shake your head, enjoying the way he makes you feel.
“Only for you,” Wonwoo muses, guiding you around the roller rink. “Look, now that you’re not thinking about it so hard, you’re doing better.”
“I’m doing better because I’m holding both of your hands and you’re steadying me,” you counter.
“Take your small win,” Wonwoo advises you. 
“No,” you say stubbornly.
He only laughs at your antics. “Do you think you can do it with one hand again?”
You consider letting go of his fingers, and part of you doesn’t want to, but you know he should probably be skating next to you again, watching where he’s going, so you concede. “Fine.” 
“How often do people usually skate for?” Wonwoo asks suddenly.
“Are you bored already?” you laugh. “We just got here!”
“Not bored,” he smiles. “Just thinking that it would be nice to go grab milkshakes after this.”
“That would be nice,” you admit. “How about this, I’ll tell you when my legs start to hurt and we can go then? Or if I fall, I think we should call it quits.”
“Deal,” Wonwoo laughs. “Although, I hope you know, I’d never let you fall.”
He squeezes your hand gently, and your heart thumps loudly in your chest.
Wonwoo is such a charmer, but you don’t mind one bit.
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You find yourself in a diner not an hour later, and your thighs are burning from the roller skating exercise you’d not been used to. “Are you more into chocolate, or vanilla?” Wonwoo asks suddenly, his gaze fixed on the menu in front of him. 
“I like them both, what do you think we should get?” 
He looks up. “You mean… we’re going to share one?”
“Were you thinking of ordering two?”
“I mean…” his skin flushes that pretty shade of pink and he lets out a small cough. “I uh…”
“We can order our own,” you tell him, wanting to smooth the miscommunication over. 
“No, we should share one,” he insists, looking determined. “Whatever flavour you want.”
“Are you sure?” you cock a brow at him, and he gives you a curt nod, jaw set.
The waitress shows up and you order your favourite milkshake. Wonwoo fiddles with the menu that’s been left on the table and you take the opportunity to assess him.
He’s a bit of an enigma. 
He’d seemed so confident when you’d first met him at the bowling alley, but now that you’re on a date with him, he has these shy moments. He’s endearing, and you can feel yourself falling for him, which is kind of scary to admit to yourself.
The milkshake is set between you, two straws sticking out of the whipped cream topping. 
“Thank you,” Wonwoo says politely to the waitress, who simply nods and scurries away, giving you some privacy for your date.
You and Wonwoo move toward the straws at the same time, and your hands brush as you both reach for the cold glass.
“Oh,” Wonwoo immediately retracts his hand. “Sorry, you go first.”
“You’re cute,” you tell him. “Don’t you want to sip together?”
“Can we do that?”
“Of course, silly,” you laugh. “Come on, lean in.”
He eyes you as if you’re tricking him, but after a breath, he follows through. You both lean over the table, and you reach for your straw, bringing it to your lips while Wonwoo does the same.
He’s so close to you, and he’s even prettier at this short distance. His eyelashes are particularly enthralling, and his dark brown eyes look rich and warm in the diner’s light. 
Wonwoo’s gaze dips down, and you watch him try to hide a smile while you both take your first sips of the milkshake.
Then, you’re pulling away again, and Wonwoo’s reaching a hand to rub the back of his neck. “I have to admit,” he sighs, “I don’t do this often.”
“What, date?” you cock your head to the side, assessing him.
“Uh… yeah,” he nods. 
You’re a little shocked at how a guy as cute as he is can get through life without being asked on numerous dates a week. “Are you not looking for a relationship, or…?”
“It’s not that,” Wonwoo assures you, swallowing thickly. “It’s just, my last job made it sort of impossible.” 
“Yeah? And what job was that?” you ask, taking another sip of your milkshake.
Wonwoo lets out another chuckle, but this one isn’t very humorous. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
“Wow, a mystery boy- it wouldn’t have to do with an underground cartel working out of a bowling alley would it?” you tease.
“Definitely not,” he smiles. 
“Are you really not going to tell me?”
“Not tonight,” he shakes his head, and you realize there’s no use pressing him on this.
“But maybe another night?”
“Maybe,” he nods. 
“Then let's talk about something other than work,” you suggest. “Have you gone fishing around here? I know this town has some really good rivers and lakes in the forest around here.”
“I’m not a fisherman,” he tells you.
“Do you not have the patience for it?”
“Not the patience so much as the willingness to hurt the fish.”
“I’ve heard it doesn't hurt them.”
“Sure you have,” Wonwoo smiles to himself. “Also, I don’t eat fish, so it would be a waste.”
You like getting to know him. He’s a peculiar man, and every detail you find out only makes you more interested.
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After your milkshake, Wonwoo had insisted on walking you home. “You never know what creeps are out at night,” he’d told you, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders to protect you from the September air.
You’d talked about books, schooling, hobbies and such, and Wonwoo had been the one asking you the majority of the questions as you’d slowly made your way home. He’s even more secretive than you’d initially realized, and you wonder what details you’re even going to give your friends when you debrief them on the date later.
“So this is mine,” you say when you come to a stop in front of your rental house.
“Can I walk you to your door?”
You look up at your home then back at the pretty man. “I don’t see why not.”
You notice his ears are flushed, and you get a sense that he might try to kiss you. Each step towards your door feels like an eternity, and your heart is racing in your chest. 
Coming to a stop on your doormat, you turn to look at Wonwoo. “I should give you your coat back.”
“Keep it for next time.”
“There’s going to be a next time?” You cock a brow.
“There better be,” he laughs. “Unless.. Unless you don’t want to go out again?”
“I’d love to see you again,” you assure him. Your gaze shifts down to his mouth and you find yourself licking your lip, biting it between your teeth as you wait for him to make a move.
You notice that his eyes are also shifting down, and you hold your breath.
He leans forward-
The door to your home is thrown open and Mary is standing there. 
Wonwoo practically jumps away from you, and Mary grins wickedly. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she smirks.
You sigh. “Mary this is Wonwoo, Wonwoo you’ve met Mary.”
“Right, yeah, of course,” he nods. “How’s your night been?”
“Not as good as yours it looks like,” Mary says sassily. “We’ve been waiting on our third to watch a girls movie, unless she was about to invite you in.”
“Mary,” you whisper a warning.
“Looks like you’ve had no such luck, pal,” Mark laughs. “Thanks for walking her home.” She grabs your hand and tugs you into the house. 
“I’ll call you,” Wonwoo promises. 
You push Mary into the hallway before leaning out the door, getting close to Wonwoo again. “You better,” you smile, a sudden rush of courage surging through you as you lean forward to press your lips to his cheek. “Goodnight.”
He’s smiling as you pull away, and you’re struck by how beautiful he is. “Goodnight,” he echos.
“Get home safe,” you warn.
“I always do.”
You watch him walk away, and he stops on the sidewalk, turning to give you one last wave before you close your door.
“He’s cuter than Mary said,” your third roommate, Jessica, notes from the living room as she watches him head down the street.
“He’s very cute,” you agree, tugging his jacket tighter around your form. 
“Are you two having another date?”
“Yup-” you suddenly realize you’d never gotten his number. Which means Wonwoo truly has complete control of contacting you again.
The jacket still wrapped around you is something like insurance that he will call, but you’re a touch saddened that you’ll have to wait for him to find the time to reach out.
He’s a good one, and you really don’t want to let him off the hook just yet.
“So tell us about your date!” Mary grins, jumping onto the couch. “Is Carter really out of the running?”
“Carter has nothing on Wonwoo,” you laugh. 
“I really don’t see how that’s possible-”
“Mary, if you like Carter so much, you should date him yourself,” you point out. “I don’t know, Wonwoo is just- he’s a good guy. I really enjoyed being out with him. He held me up at the roller rink and we shared a milkshake-”
“That’s original,” Mary scoffs.
“It was cute!” you insist. “I need a bit of cute in my life,” even if he does joke about having to kill you if he tells you about his last job. 
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When your phone had rung at noon on Thursday, you’d jumped at the idea it might be Wonwoo, but it had only been the diner you work at, asking if you could cover a shift.
You suppose you need the money, but as you manage the small dinner rush, you find it hard to take your mind off of Wonwoo. You keep replaying the small moments in your head, how he’d held both your hands to help you rollerblade, moving effortlessly backward, or how you’d both leaned in for the milkshake, noses almost touching.
The kiss that could have been feels fresh in your mind, and you’d given Mary a royal talking to about opening the door at the moment she had.
What would he have tasted like if you had kissed him? Would his lips have been as soft as they look? Would he have grabbed your hips and tugged you close to his chest?
You’re so busy thinking about Wonwoo that you almost don’t realize he’s walking past your diner until he comes to a stop, staring at you through the window while you take a couple’s order.
You nearly drop your notepad, only to snap yourself out of it and finish scribbling two burgers with extra cheese. “Can I grab you anything else?” you ask, forcing your gaze to shift to the customers. 
“That’s it for now,” the man smiles, and you scurry off to give the cook the order.
Your back is to the front door of the diner, but when you hear the bell ring, you know what you’ll find when you turn around.
Wonwoo looks a little windswept, and he’s wearing glasses today. 
He looks so handsome you could die.
“Hi,” you smile, approaching him and fidgeting with your apron. 
“Hi,” he grins. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Do you come here often?”
“Sometimes, usually on Thursdays, which, now that I think of it, didn’t you say you weren’t working tonight?”
“You have a good memory,” you breathe. “I uh, picked up a shift.”
“I’m glad I walked by, I was almost going to skip coming in and get a burger from the joint down the road.”
“Andy’s Burgers?” you ask in shock. “No, no, no, you have to have one of ours. They’re much better.”
“I wasn’t planning on sitting in to eat, but what the hell, can I grab a booth?”
“Of course,” you wave at the open seating. “Anywhere you’d like.”
“Thanks,” Wonwoo smiles at you, turning to slip into one of the blue and white coloured booths. 
You’re quick to go grab him a menu, and you scurry over, heart racing in your chest. “So how’s your night going?”
“Better now,” he grins. “I actually uh, called you an hour ago, and no one answered-”
“We’re all working tonight,” you muse.
“I’m glad I caught you.” There’s a sincerity in his words and it makes your skin heat. “I probably shouldn’t be asking you about this while you’re at work-”
“Ask anyways.”
“How do you feel about going for a drive on our next date? I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything.”
There have been a string of unsolved murders lately, and you’d be lying if you said they weren’t concerning you, but at the same time, the missing women are half a country away, in New York. 
You cock your head, assessing Wonwoo. “Are you sure about that, mister ‘if I told you about my last job I’d have to kill you’?”
“You know what, fair, out of context, that sounds very ominous-”
“I trust you,” you insist. “A drive would be great.”
“How do you feel about Sunday?”
“Sunday works, I get off at eight.”
“Perfect.” Wonwoo plays with the menu in front of him. “Should I pick you up here or at your place?”
“Let’s say eight thirty at my place, I want to get dressed up for you.”
Wonwoo grins, gaze shifting down at the table. He pushes his glasses up his nose, then he eyes you again. “I think you always look pretty.”
“Really? Is this a nice apron?” You tug at the material wrapped around your waist and Wonwoo’s grin widens.
“The nicest apron I’ve ever seen.” 
“I’ll send my manager your regards,” you tease. “What can I get you for dinner?”
“A bacon cheeseburger, please.”
God, you love a man with manners.
“Any drink?”
“Just water, thanks.”
“The burger comes with fries, is ketchup okay?”
“It’s perfect.”
“I’ll be back with your order shortly,” you smile, finishing up on your notepad.
“Take your time,” Wonwoo assures you.
As you move away to the kitchen to put the order in the window, you get the suspicion that Wonwoo’s watching your ass. Hell, you hope he’s checking you out. 
With so few people in the restaurant, and burgers being a fairly fast food menu item, you find yourself serving the couple their dinner in no time. It’s almost torture to not look over at Wonwoo, to know he’s watching you work.
You bring him his water and you take the opportunity to chat with him again. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
“I usually wear contacts,” he tells you.
“Right, I heard about that new brand that came out. Are they any good?”
“I could see you pretty well last night with them in,” Wonwoo smiles.
“Good. That outfit was meant to be seen.”
“It sure was.” 
Flattery will get him everywhere- but before you can say anything else, the kitchen bell dings, signifying an order is up. When you turn your head, you see Wonwoo’s burger sitting in the window. “I’ll be right back with your food,” you assure him, scurrying off.
As you’re bringing Wonwoo his plate, a family enters the diner. Your attention is effectively transferred to them, no matter how much you wish you could just watch Wonwoo devour his burger and thirst for him.
The two adults and their three kids are very rowdy, and you bring over some colouring sheets with crayons, as well as a tray of water in plastic cups. Your focus shifts between Wonwoo and the family while they look over the menus, and when they put them down, you head over again, notepad in hand.
By the time you’re done taking their very complicated and long order, Wonwoo’s finishing up his meal, licking his fingers clean in a way that makes you salivate as you run to the kitchen to quickly give the chef the new list of food.
“Can I leave the money on the table?” Wonwoo calls, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.
“I’ll be right there-”
“I’ve got somewhere to be,” he says, casually tossing a few bills onto the counter. “Thanks, y/n.”
“Bye, Wonwoo.” You hate watching him leave, but as you approach his table, you find he’s left you a very generous tip.
When you head back to the kitchen window, the chef leans through. “You know that guy?” he asks.
“Yeah. I hear he’s a bit of a regular here?”
“Started coming in two months ago,” the chef nods. “He’s a little weird.”
“Weird?” you cock your head to the side, watching the chef flip burgers. “How so?”
“He only ever comes in alone, usually just orders a black coffee, and watches other customers. I don’t know how you talked him into getting a burger today, but… yeah, a little off.”
You assess the chef. While he seems like a good guy, you wonder if there are any other biased reasons he might be rubbed the wrong way by Wonwoo. 
“I think Wonwoo’s just…” you search for the word to defend him, “unique. He’s really nice, when you start to get to know him.”
“I hope you’re right about that,” the chef sighs. “If things don’t work out and you need someone to tell him, or any man, to back off, just let me know.”
“Thanks, chef,” you smile. “I’ll let you know if I need your help.”
You think maybe the chef is simply worried about you as a young woman entering the town’s dating pool with very little experience. 
However, when it comes to Wonwoo, you’re pretty sure you have nothing to worry about.
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You’ve decided to wear an orange floral boho style dress for your second date with Wonwoo. It reaches your mid thigh, and when you do a twirl for your roommates, Mary starts to scream about how beautiful you are.
“You’re going to give that boy a heart attack,” Jessica grins.
“Or a boner,” Mary agrees.
“Lets try for both,” you tease, gaze shifting out the front window just in time to see a car pull up. “I think that’s him!”
Your roomates jump up to get a look outside, and Jessica frowns. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t picture him as a 1966 Chrystler Imperial kind of guy.”
“Yeah, for some reason I thought he’d have a nicer muscle car.”
“Don’t be rude,” you remind Jessica. “And to be fair, he did just move here, muscle cars have limited room- I bet he has a car like this for the space.”
“Because you know him so well after only one date,” Mary rolls her eyes.
“You know what?” You grab your keys and head to the door, throwing Wonwoo’s jacket around your shoulders. “I do!”
Without another word to your roommates, you head outside, practically jumping down the steps. Wonwoo’s exited his car by now, and he’s come around to lean against the passenger’s side door, which he opens for you upon approach.
“Hi,” he grins.
“Hi!” you echo, throwing your arms around his shoulders to pull him into a hug.
His hands are hesitant, but they settle on your hips, holding you tighter. You take a deep breath, enjoying the embrace, and his woodsy scent washes over you. 
“So where are we driving to?” you ask when you pull away.
“One of my coworkers said there’s this nice spot, I thought I’d take you there,” Wonwoo suggests. It’s so very vague, and so very Wonwoo. 
“Works for me,” you grin, allowing him to take your hand and help you into the car.
As you close your door, you notice Wonwoo waving at your roommates who are staring from the living room window. Jessica immediately ducks down and you laugh to yourself.
“The girls you live with seem nice,” Wonwoo notes as he enters the driver’s seat.
“They’re alright,” you smile. “Do you have any roommates?”
“No, I live alone.”
“That must be nice.”
“It’s quiet.”
“Are you the kind of guy that likes the quiet?”
Wonwoo considers your question for a moment. “I used to be. But some days, it can be lonely.”
It’s the first time he’s really gotten deep with you. He’s being vulnerable, and your breath catches in your throat.
You reach out and rest your hand on top of his on the gear shift, giving him a gentle squeeze. “If you ever need company, you know where to find me.”
“I might take you up on that,” Wonwoo flashes a small smile, but you can tell it’s an aversion tactic. You don’t mind dropping the topic, and you take your hand away, looking at the road.
Wonwoo’s pulled off the main street and is heading up one of the dirt roads that leads into the forest. It’s a path you know well, and your heart thumps when you realize where Wonwoo must be taking you.
“Are we going to Hellyhill Lookout?” you ask softly.
“Uh huh, have you been?” Wonwoo sneaks a glance at you.
“Not personally, no, but I’ve heard it’s nice.”
“Okay,” he nods. “Good.”
“Do you…” you lick your lip. “Did your coworker tell you what kind of lookout it is?”
“What do you mean?”
You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and you enjoy the switchbacks of the road, the way the tall trees fly past. “It’s a lover’s lookout.”
“A lover’s lookout,” Wonwoo repeats.
“You know, a place that teens drive to so they can make out in their cars?”
Wonwoo practically chokes on air, and his grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t know-”
“Don’t be sorry,” you try to assure him, but he’s already beginning to blush.
“We can go somewhere else-”
“Really,” you reach for his hand again, “Wonwoo, it’s fine.”
“I can’t believe my coworker would suggest this-”
You can tell that your words aren’t helping his anxiety, so you lean over the bench seat, pressing your lips to his cheek. He freezes under the motion. “Wonwoo,” you whisper again, “I want to go to a lover’s lookout with you. Stop panicking, please.” 
He takes a shuddery breath. “Okay.”
You look out at the road again. “Pull over at the next stop,” you instruct. “The lookout is just through the trees.”
Wonwoo does as you say, and pretty soon you’re entering a small, empty parkinglot. You suppose it’s a school night, and you’ve heard this spot is busiest on Fridays and Saturdays.
The privacy is welcome, and Wonwoo slowly pulls to a stop. The view is breathtaking as the sun sets behind a mountain. Even from inside his car you can see the whole small town down below, twinkling and nestled amongst the Pacific Northwest geography. 
“Wow, Wonwoo-” you turn to say something, but suddenly he’s cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours.
The shy man you’ve been getting to know is gone, and you melt into the kiss, closing your eyes while your thoughts disappear. His touch is gentle on your cheek, but his fingers slip around to cup the back of your head, and when his tongue glides across your lower lip, you open your mouth for him, granting him access.
You stifle a groan, reaching out to grab the front of his shirt, pulling him closer while also sliding across the bench seat, your knees pressing against his thigh. 
Already, you want to be closer. You wish he’d grab your hips and pull you on top of him, but he doesn’t, he simply kisses you. You can feel your panties beginning to stick to your core, and when his lips move to your throat, you stifle a moan, fingers flexing against his shirt.
“Wonwoo, I need more-”
“I didn’t bring condoms,” he says against your neck.
“I don’t care-”
“I’m not about to get you pregnant on our second date.”
“How… responsible of you,” you laugh, feeling a little disappointed. “You could always just… I don’t know, pull out?”
Now it’s Wonwoo’s turn to chuckle, and he shakes his head. “Here, I have an idea.” He pulls away from you, and you’re left frowning. “Come outside with me.”
“But-”
He cups your face. “Do you trust me?”
You sigh. “Fine.” Maybe the cold air will calm you down, maybe you can convince him to bring condoms next time.
You exit the car, coming around the front to join Wonwoo. “Here,” he says, reaching for your hand and gently tugging you so you’re standing with your back to his chest while he leans against the hood of the vehicle. 
He wraps you tightly in his arms, and you release a sigh when he begins to kiss your neck again.
“Are you trying to torture me?” you ask.
“Angel, if I was trying to torture you, you’d know it.” 
“Yeah?” you can feel his cock through his jeans, and you begin to grind back against him. “And how would I know it?”
“Well for starters,” his hand snakes down the front of your dress, and he grabs at the fabric by your thighs, dragging it up, “I wouldn’t be doing this.” His lips return to your throat. “Can I touch you properly?”
“I’d be angry if you didn’t,” you confess, resting your head back against his shoulder. 
Wonwoo’s hand slips under your dress, and he cups your pussy, two fingers begining to rub you through your panties. A whimper slips past your lips, and you wiggle your hips, wanting more pressure, which Wonwoo gives you.
“Feels good?” he asks, breath hot against your throat.
“So good,” you nod. “For a guy who doesn’t do this sort of thing often, you definitely know how to handle women.”
Wonwoo simply laughs, but doesn’t respond more than that, continuing to tease you through your panties until you’re wriggling against his hand and cock. Then his free arm moves around to stop your hips, keeping you pinned to his chest. “Stop moving,” he says lowly, breath hot against your neck.
“I can’t help it,” you whimper, your pussy throbbing with need. 
“Are you close, Angel?” He smiles against your throat and a shiver runs up your spine. 
You nod, not able to find the words to admit to him that a little teasing through your panties has already taken you to the edge.
Wonwoo pulls away from your neck, and you feel him look around. You’re still the only two people in the dark parkinglot. 
“I’m gonna put you on the hood of my car now,” Wonwoo tells you.
You don’t really know what he’s thinking of doing to you, but there’s no way you’re going to question him now. You’re as compliant as ever, letting him adjust you and lift you onto his vehicle.
“Lay back,” he instructs next. “I’m going to take your panties off.”
Your heart races in your chest as you realize what he’s about to do, and you fall onto your elbows on the hood of his car, breathing heavily as Wonwoo leans down and begins to press kisses up your bare legs. 
His fingers hook in your panties, and he drags them down, exposing your hot core to the cool evening air. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, and as Wonwoo positions your thighs over his broad shoulders, you think you might actually faint from the tension.
His breath is warm against your entrance and your thighs quiver with anticipation. There’s nothing for you to grab onto while on the hood of his car, so you bundle your hands in your dress, pulling the fabric higher so Wonwoo has easier access to your core. 
His own palms flatten along your thighs, fingers digging against your skin while he kisses closer and closer to where you need him most, his lips light like feathers. 
“God,” you groan. “Please!” 
The bastard smiles, and you realize how much he’s enjoying teasing you. How did your shy bowling alley boy turn into a demon like this? 
He presses a soft kiss to your clit and the sensation has you gasping loudly. Most men who’ve eaten you out have started rough and ended rough, but it’s clear to you already that Wonwoo is not like other men. It’s absolutely insane how good the feather light touches can feel, and when he kitten licks your folds your stomach clenches.
“Please, I need more-” you beg, pushing your pussy closer to his face. 
“Why won’t you let me enjoy you slowly?”
“Because-” your breath catches, “I need to cum!”
“Already?”
“Wonwoo, I swear to God-” You don’t even get to finish your sentence because he gives in, pressing his mouth against your core and pushing his tongue into your tight hole. Your hips push up involuntarily, and your clit brushes by Wonwoo’s nose, which sends shivers of pleasure down your legs.
He must notice the way you react from clit stimulation because he wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, flicking at it with his tongue.
Your whole body tenses. You’re so close to your orgasm you could die-
Wonwoo groans against your pussy and that’s all you need to topple over the edge, pussy throbbing as you come undone for him. 
Your eyes are clenched shut and your back arches off the hood of his car. Pleasure surges through your entire body, radiating out from between your legs. Wonwoo doesn’t let up on you though, he keeps licking your pussy, working you through your orgasm until you’re a complete quivering mess, shaking and moaning like you’ve never shaken and moaned before.
You’re breathless, body tingling with afterwaves of your orgasm when Wonwoo finally pulls away from your pussy. You watch under hooded lids as he wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, licking his lips.
With the limited light, it’s hard to see details, but you can tell his pupils are blown. 
Honestly, condoms be damned, you need this man to fuck you, and you need it now.
“Wonwoo-”
There’s a flash of light and his gaze shifts past you. You hear the familiar crunch of tires on graveled dirt, and you realize another car is pulling down the path to the lookout.
“Shit,” Wonwoo cusses, standing up and fixing your dress over your thighs. He reaches out for your hand. “Come on.”
“What about you?” you ask, knowing he’s probably aching in his jeans.
“I’m not about to make you blow me in my car.”
“What if I want to, though?” you question.
Wonwoo takes a deep breath, pulling you to your feet and holding you close. “Another time,” he assures you.
You tug on the front of his shirt, letting your lips ghost past his own. “Are you sure?”
He nods. “I wanted tonight to be about you.”
“Blowing you can still be about me.”
Wonwoo laughs. “Next time.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise,” he confirms.
“You know… I like a man with self control.”
He simply shakes his head at you, letting you go so you can both get back in his car. “Let’s go for a drive,” he suggests, “because if we don’t, my self control might just snap.”
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Your whole week is spent with you on edge, but your third date with Wonwoo finally arrives on your next Wednesday off. He’s suggested a movie date, and you’re not exactly sure how you’re going to get touchy with him in a car surrounded by other couples- but as the date approaches, you realize that you probably won’t be the only duo getting a little frisky while watching the new James Bond movie, Live or Let Die.
You’re waiting outside when Wonwoo picks you up, and you enter his vehicle, leaning over the bench seat to press your lips to the corner of his mouth. “Hi,” you grin. “I missed you.”
“I uh…” he swallows thickly, “I missed you too.”
“What time is the movie again?” you ask.
“Uh,” Wonwoo checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes?”
“Then we should get going.” You settle in your seat while he takes you to the drive in movie. He pays for your tickets, and rolls into the parking lot, finding a spot. Your windows are already down, and there’s a speaker set up outside your doors so you can both hear the sound.
“Do you want popcorn or anything?” Wonwoo asks.
“Not right now, maybe later,” you grin, sliding closer to him. 
Wonwoo adjusts, resting his arm behind you and allowing you to tuck against his shoulder. “I’m happy to be here with you.”
“I’m happy you came,” Wonwoo admits. “I’ve been wanting to see this movie.”
“Yeah? You like spies?”
“I think the way Hollywood portrays them is… interesting.”
“Right, because you’re an expert on spies, huh?”
Wonwoo grins. “Something like that.”
He begins to play with your hair, stroking it gently, and you rest one of your hands on his thigh, enjoying the muscles and denim. God, it’s so hard to be near Wonwoo and not get horny, almost impossible you would say.
The film begins, and you do your best to focus on it, to no avail. 
Wonwoo’s still stroking you, and each drag of his fingers by your hair makes your panties wetter. You’re determined to repay the favour he’d done for you last time, and finally you’ve had enough.
“Wonwoo.”
“Hmm?” He sneaks a glance from the movie to look at you.
“I need something to suck on.”
“I can go grab you something from the concession-”
“No,” you shake your head. “I need you to suck on.”
“You need…” he coughs. “You need me.” It’s almost as if he doesn’t believe it.
“Uh huh,” you nod. “Will you let me make you feel good?”
“I-” his words cut off into a groan when you cup him through his jeans, and you realize he’s already half hard. 
“Looks like you need me too,” you smile, leaning forward to press your lips to the side of his throat. He jolts a little at the contact, angling his head back to give you more space to begin to suck on his skin. 
“Fuck,” he groans, and the sound goes straight to your core.
Why’s he so sexy. Like. How is this legal.
You’ve decided Wonwoo is illegal. No one should be this hot. It’s a panty dropping hazard, as you’re beginning to see for yourself. 
“Will you let me suck you off?” you ask. “Please?”
He swallows thickly. “Yeah.” 
“Good,” you grin, pressing one last kiss to his cheek before you begin to undo his jeans. You’ve never undressed someone so fast in your life, and a few moments later he’s lifting his hips to allow you to tug his pants down, his cock springing free.
You lick your lips, already salivating at the sight of him.
He’s somehow perfect everywhere. From his handsome face and gorgeous hands all the way down to his pretty cock, which is probably around seven or eight inches. It’s a good thickness, with a vein running along the underside that you want to trace with your tongue.
“Just, make sure no one sees,” you whisper, as you dip your head down, hoping the car doors will hide your body from view of other movie goers.
“Angel,” Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath, “I’m pretty sure the guy in the car next to us is doing the same thing with his girlfriend.”
That makes you feel a little better, as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock and bring its head to your lips, kitten licking and earning a groan from Wonwoo. His hand finds your hair again, stroking you as you take more of him into your mouth.
You haven’t blown a guy in a while, and it feels empowering to be pleasuring someone again. Wonwoo’s small moans are already making this more than worth it, and his constant touch through your hair is extra encouragement.
You sink yourself onto his cock, taking as much of him as you can. You’re trying to be gentle, but you get more daring as you go, sucking harder, which makes Wonwoo’s hips jolt below you. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly. His grip tightens in your hair, and he curses, breathing heavily.
You want to make this man cum like you’ve never wanted to make any man cum in your entire life, so you go harder on him, pushing through the discomfort in the back of your throat. You focus on your tongue movements, the pressure of your sucking motions and the way you’re bobbing your head.
“Shit,” Wonwoo groans. “Slow down-”
You refuse. This is personal. You want to see how fast you can make him come undone. You want Wonwoo to be mouth whipped for you, if he’s not already obsessed after having a taste of your pussy last time.
It might be a little insecure of you, but you’re not one hundred percent sure Wonwoo wants you the way you want him. You need to be sure. You need to know he’s not going to leave you, like most people in your life have. 
“Angel,” Wonwoo’s voice lacks conviction, and you think he can tell you’re not intent on letting up anytime soon. When you release a moan around his cock, Wonwoo matches the sound. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
You suck him even harder and Wonwoo pants above you, fingers flexing in your hair. He lets out a strangled sound as he reaches his high, and he shoots his load down your throat. You do your best to swallow like a good girl, continuing to bob yourself on his cock, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth-
“Shit, angel,” Wonwoo’s voice is breathless, almost whimpery, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. The last rope of cum goes down your throat and you finally let up, swallowing and pulling off his cock You take a deep breath, wiping your hand against the back of your mouth.
Wonwoo looks beautiful. His skin is flushed, his lips parted, and he’s looking at you in a way that no man has ever looked at you before. You want to kiss him so badly, but you’re very aware of his salty taste still in your mouth.
“I’m going to go get a drink,” you tell him.
“What?” He blinks. “Right now?”
“Yeah,” you nod, already reaching for the door handle. If you stay in this car with him any longer, you will jump his bones. You need the cool air and a breather, a way to slow your racing heart, and more importantly, you need your damned pussy to stop throbbing because you’re not getting laid tonight.
As you weave through the cars, you notice a group of men standing at the concession. They watch as you approach, and you do your best to downcast your eyes, feeling your skin heat. There’s no lineup for ordering and you’re quick to ask for two cokes, hoping that you’ll be able to head back to Wonwoo faster than people waiting for popcorn.
“Hey pretty girl,” one of the men calls, and it only takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you. 
You don’t respond.
“I said,” he steps closer, “hey pretty girl.”
“Hi,” you say quietly.
“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here alone?” the man questions.
“I’m not alone.”
“I don’t see a boyfriend.”
“He’s in the car,” you insist.
“He must not care about you that much if he sent you out for drinks all by yourself.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Wonwoo’s voice makes you turn, and you let out a shaky breath at his sudden appearance. 
“And who are you?” The man hitting on you puffs up his chest.
“The boyfriend who you don’t think cares,” Wonwoo says steadily. “I do care,” he turns to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and lowering his voice to address you. “You ran away pretty quick, are you okay?”
“Uh huh,” you nod. “Just thirsty.”
“Two cokes!” the concession girl announces right on schedule, and you reach up to retrieve them, taking a sip of one and letting out a soft sigh while Wonwoo tosses a bill onto the counter.
“Come on, is this guy really your boyfriend?” It looks like the man harassing you doesn’t want to quit. 
“I am,” Wonwoo confirms, for the second time, and it makes your heart race in your chest.
The man takes a step forward. “I want to hear the girl say it. I don’t believe you.”
“I think you better back off.” Wonwoo’s voice has lowered an octave, and you’ve never seen him behave this way.
“Or what?” The catcaller has about two inches on Wonwoo, and he’s built like a bull, puffing his chest out again as he looks down at the man you met in a bowling alley of all places.
“Maybe you should try me and find out?” Wonwoo suggests.
The big guy laughs, and then in one motion, he takes a swing at Wonwoo. 
Wonwoo dodges the man’s fist easily, grabbing his forearm and adding to the forward momentum. Before you know what’s really happening, Wonwoo’s manuevered the man onto the ground, twisting his arm behind his back and pressing a knee just below that.
“I think you should say sorry for harassing my girlfriend,” Wonwoo says coldly.
“What?!” The man wiggles on the ground, but to no avail. Wonwoo’s thigh muscle bulges in his blue jeans and you think your mouth is watering again. 
“Say you’re sorry.” Wonwoo twists the man’s arm behind his back and the man lets out a grunt of pain.
“I’m sorry,” he groans. 
“For?” Wonwoo presses.
The man meets your gaze. “For harassing you, I’m sorry!”
Wonwoo lets up, standing and joining you again. “Lets go,” he says, grabbing one of the drinks from you before lacing your fingers. You allow him to guide you away from the man laying on the ground with a look of shock on his face.  
You’re still quite stunned yourself, and you let Wonwoo pull you back through the cars toward his own. He opens your door for you and you get inside, taking a deep breath while you watch him go around the front to enter his own seat.
“Wonwoo?”
“Yeah?”
“Where the fuck did a guy who works in a bowling alley learn to pull a move like that on someone so much bigger than him?” 
“Well-”
“Let me guess,” you hold up your hand, “If you told me you’d have to kill me.”
“Something like that,” he laughs.
You simply blink at him. “Who are you? Like really? Are you James Bond?”
“Definitely not,” Wonwoo grins. “Speaking of… should we continue watching the movie?”
All you can do is nod, but your mind is reeling, and you can’t focus the rest of the film. There’s so much about Wonwoo you still don’t know, and it’s making you insane. 
When the movie finishes, Wonwoo pulls out of the drive in theater. “I can tell you’re still shaken up about what happened,” he muses, “and I want to make it up to you.”
“Really? How are you thinking of doing that?”
“I was wondering if you’d let me cook you dinner sometime soon.”
“At your house?”
“Yeah.” 
“Okay,” you nod… maybe his house will provide a few clues to help you figure him out.
“Does tomorrow work for you?”
“Works great.”
Wonwoo looks over at you, and he reaches out a hand, lacing your fingers and giving you a gentle squeeze. It’s meant as reassurance, but he doesn’t say anything else as he drives you home. 
“Can I walk you to your door?” Wonwoo asks softly when you arrive.
“Of course,” you nod, exiting the car and waiting for Wonwoo to come join you so you can head up the walkway together. 
“I had a really good time tonight,” he muses, “and not just because you sucked me off.”
The statement makes you laugh, shaking your head at him. “No? Bet you also enjoyed throwing that guy on the ground.”
“I enjoyed watching a movie with you,” Wonwoo insists. 
“Sure you did,” you grin, turning to face him on your doorstep.
You know it’s probably just a matter of time before one of your roommates ruins the moment, and you think Wonwoo knows it too, because there’s no hesitation in his actions tonight. He grabs your hips, tugging you close so he can lean down and press his mouth to your own. 
He’s confident, lips parting so his tongue can glide against your own. One of his hands releases your hips to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek while he kisses you.
Your stomach is in knots just from this, and you’re acutely aware that you haven’t actually fucked him yet, aware that tomorrow, you’ll be in his home, alone. 
Your front door opens and Wonwoo breaks away from you. “Hi Mary,” he addresses your roommate.
“Hi love birds,” Mary grins.
You shake your head at the way she’s ruined the moment. Your panties are sticking uncomfortably to your core and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.
“I’ll uh… see you tomorrow?” you say softly, looking into Wonwoo’s pretty, dark eyes.
He nods. “I’ll come pick you up at seven.”
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Wonwoo is a shockingly good cook. He’d made a baked chicken and pasta dish that he’d simply taken out of the oven after picking you up, plating the food while you looked around his little home. 
Your first bite of food had made you almost groan, looking at him while he laughed. “Bet you thought I couldn’t cook,” he’d mused.
You’d admitted your expectations had been low, and the two of you had eaten dinner together, chatting about everything from his house being rented furnished, to a few towns he’d been in before coming here.
Wonwoo had given nomadic vibes, but as you listen to him speak, you realize how deep that constant need for movement runs. It strikes something like fear inside of you… when is he going to decide to leave this town? To leave you? Is there even a future for you both?
Wonwoo doesn’t seem to notice your distress, as you’re good at hiding it, and after you’re done eating, he suggests moving to the couch to watch a sitcom. 
He sits down first, and after a moment of deliberation, you tuck close to his side. His arm wraps around you immediately and you lean against his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh while he turns on the tv. “Do you want to watch anything in specific?” he asks.
You shake your head. “I’m okay with whatever.”
A generic sitcom begins to play and you relax even more, enjoying the feeling of his arm around you. You could get used to nights like this… if Wonwoo wasn’t such a nomadic, unpredictable man. 
Wonwoo’s hand begins to stroke up and down your arm, and you find it hard to even concentrate on the show while he’s doing this. You simply enjoy existing with him, and you haven’t experienced this type of peace with a man possibly ever. 
An hour passes in this easy way, and Wonwoo begins to yawn, stretching his arms over his head. You wonder how he manages to remain so pretty even while yawning- sometimes you hate how attractive this man is. If he wasn’t so god damned sexy, maybe he wouldn’t have you wrapped around his finger the way he does.
“I’m getting tired,” he notes. “Maybe… maybe I should drive you home.”
“You could do that… or, you could let me cuddle you, and you could have a nap,” you suggest.
Wonwoo considers it, and he bites at his lip, looking deep in thought. “I’ve never uh… never napped with someone before.”
“Really?” Your brows raise in shock. “Well… don’t you want to give it a try?”
“Sometimes I have bad dreams,” he tells you quietly. 
“Wouldn’t it be nicer for you to wake up with someone there to comfort you?” you ask.
Wonwoo blinks. “Would you really do that?”
“Of course!” you assure him, reaching out to gently squeeze his thigh. “Come on, if you get nightmares, I’ll even let you be the little spoon.”
“You’ll let me be the little spoon,” he repeats, not looking convinced.
“Trust me, it will help,” you assure him. 
He still looks like he doesn’t quite believe you, but he allows you to maneuver him down onto the couch, with you removing the back pillows so the two of you can lay comfortably. You curl around his back, tucking a hand around him, placing your palm over his heart. A moment later, he threads his fingers through your own, locking you into a position that feels secure and warm and very loving.
He’s tense, but when you let out a deep breath, he mirrors you, and you feel him relaxing in your embrace.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he tells you.
“You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust myself.”
“Well, I can trust you for the both of us,” you say softly, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his neck. “Have a nap. I’ll be here for you, no matter what happens.”
Wonwoo sighs, but he cuddles a little closer to you, and you can’t help but smile at the motion. You listen to him breathe while the sitcom chatters away in the background, and you’re pretty sure it only takes a minute or two for him to fall asleep.
The poor man, he must have been really tired for him to knock out so fast.
You enjoy holding him, and you get comfortable wrapped around his back. His broad shoulders obscure part of the tv screen from your view but you don’t mind, it’s not like you’re really watching anyways. 
Focusing on your breaths, you allow yourself to fall in a state of deep relaxation. You’re not particularly sleepy, it just feels nice to be close to Wonwoo like this… even when he begins to twitch. You can tell he’s dreaming now, and you note the way the muscles in his arms feather- you wonder what dream Wonwoo is up to.
He settles down a little, and you’re glad that maybe he’s not going to wake up, maybe having someone cuddling him does help. 
Your hope that your presence makes a difference is dashed not five minutes later when Wonwoo begins twitching again, but this time, there’s more force in it. 
“No-” he mumbles in his sleep. “No-” he says again, but now he’s louder.
At this point, you’re not sure this counts as a nightmare, it’s pretty clear to you that Wonwoo’s having a night terror, and when he begins to shake, you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, clinging to his back. “Shh,” you whisper softly, reaching up a hand to stroke his hair. “It’s okay, it’s just a dream-”
Wonwoo jolts in your embrace, and then he’s sitting up abruptly, eyes snapping open, lips parting in gasps-
“It was just a dream,” you tell him again, louder now that he’s awake. You sit up and attach to his back again, running your hands up and down his arms. “You’re safe. You’re safe with me now.”
He’s still breathing heavily, shoulders moving with each sharp inhale of breath.
You hold him through it, knowing now is not the best time to ask any questions. You just want to support him, so that’s what you do. 
After a while, Wonwoo starts to take more even breaths, and he rests a hand over yours, leaning back against you. He’s quiet, and he lets you simply hold him. You’re sure now that you’re providing comfort, and when you lean in to press a soft kiss to his neck, he lets out a deep sigh. 
“I need to tell you something.” 
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you assure him.
“I do,” he insists. “Especially after what happened at the drive in.”
He must be referring to his ability to take down a man and pin him to the sidewalk, and to be fair, you have been wondering about that. You give Wonwoo the space to elaborate. 
“I’m not even sure how to explain this,” Wonwoo sighs after a moment.
“Take your time.”
“This is going to sound crazy,” he says softly, and you can tell he’s working up the courage to get out what’s on his mind. “There’s no other way to describe it, so I might as well just say it. You’ve probably been wondering about the job I had before I started at the bowling alley.”
He pauses to allow you to confirm, and you give a small nod, leaning against his shoulder. He’s not looking at you, and you assess his side profile. It’s clear that this is going to be a turning point in your relationship with him, and you give him your complete attention for it.
“The government…” Wonwoo licks his lips, “well, they’d call me a rogue military asset.” 
You take in his words, not quite sure how to react-
“I can’t go into details with you, I won’t, but… I can tell you that I never agreed with what the government wanted to use me for.” 
The night terrors make sense now. 
“They put a lot of time training me to be who I am, so… let's just say they wouldn’t let me leave without a fight. Technically, I’m court marshalled, but it’s worse than that- I’m on the run, moving from town to town- I can’t  stay anywhere too long- it’s never been a problem for me, but then-” he swallows thickly. “Then I met you. It’s funny,” Wonwoo lets out a sad chuckle, “I’m trained to assess probability, but nowhere in my future sight did I anticipate meeting a girl I actually liked, someone I could confide in, someone who I could rest next to, who wouldn’t judge me for my dreams.” 
“Wonwoo-” you whisper his name, and he turns in your arms, facing you.
“I don’t want to ruin your life,” he states. “Being with a guy like me, it doesn’t give you a future.”
“You wouldn’t be ruining it,” you insist, “and your wrong. It would give me a future, a future with you.” 
“It’s not enough.”
“Let me be the judge of that, please.” You cup his face, and Wonwoo leans into your touch, his eyes meeting yours. You can’t help but lean forward, pressing your lips to his own. It’s a soft kiss at first, and you hope he can feel the emotion you’re pouring into it.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, adjusting so you can climb into his lap, straddling him on the couch while his tongue slides over your own. 
His hands find your hips, and he applies a bit of pressure, helping you grind down on him. You can feel his cock in the denim of his jeans, and you’re a little surprised that he’s turned on so soon after a night terror, but at the same time, you’re not complaining.
“Wonwoo,” you whisper, breaking the kiss while his lips move to your throat. “I think… I think I should stay over tonight, in case you have any more night terrors.”
You feel him smile against your skin. “Is that the only reason?” he asks.
You grind your clothed core along his cock, shaking your head. “No.” 
“Let me take you to bed,” Wonwoo says, grabbing at your ass and lifting you up easily. “I’m not about to have you on the couch.”
“You’re about to have me?” you grin.
“Unless you don’t want it.”
“I want it,” you confirm, lips moving to his neck while he carries you through his small house. “I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
“Me too,” he says softly, fingers digging into your ass.
When you get to his bedroom, he lays you onto his bed softly before standing over you, looking down at your form. “You’re so pretty,” Wonwoo whispers, reaching down to trail a finger over your denim covered knee.
“Prettier with my pants off,” you smirk.
“Yeah?” He lets out a small laugh. 
“You should see for yourself.” You reach down to undo your jeans and as you pull down the zipper, Wonwoo grabs at the leg, tugging. Soon, your legs are bare, and you feel the cool air of the room against your hot, panty covered core. “Now's the time I tell you I’m also cuter with no underwear.”
“I remember,” Wonwoo nods. 
His words make a hot lick of pleasure tease up your pussy, and you grab at the bottom of your shirt, tugging that off next so all you’re left in is a bra and panties. 
Wonwoo begins to get onto his knees but you shake your head. “We’ve had enough foreplay. Enough teasing. I want you inside of me.”
“Are you sure?” Wonwoo kisses your inner thigh, and the feeling makes you close your eyes, leaning your head back to let out a sigh.
“I’m sure,” you confirm. No matter how good his tongue might feel, you’re aching to get to his cock.
“Why won’t you let me take care of you?” he asks, breath hot as it fans up your legs.
“Because I’m impatient,” you can’t help but laugh, writhing in his sheets. “Because I need to know what you feel like.”
Wonwoo lets out something of a hum, and he presses a kiss to your thigh before moving up your body. His lips drag over your stomach and up to the swell of your breasts while he climbs on top of you, hands pressing against the mattress on either side of your head. His nose nuzzles by your throat as he kisses there too, and when you tug on his soft hair, he finally makes it to your mouth.
You groan against his lips immediately, wrapping your legs around his hips while tugging at his shirt. He allows you to tear it off of him, breaking the kiss for only a moment before you’re dragging him back to you.
His tongue glides across your lip and you open your mouth for him, allowing him to trace your teeth. You like the feeling of him, like what he does with his tongue. 
His hand slips under your back and you arch yourself for him, making it easier to take off your bra. He pushes at your straps next, and you lose your patience, pulling the fabric from your chest and exposing your boobs to the man who makes you hornier than you’ve ever been in your entire life. 
Wonwoo dips his head down, pressing kisses over your breasts until he reaches your nipple. His free hand begins to gently massage your other boob while his tongue begins to trace your pebbled bud. It feels like magic, and you thread your fingers in his hair, releasing a groan.
He sucks gently on your nipple, taking his time. 
You’d said no foreplay, but you’re okay with this. You can feel yourself beginning to soak through your panties, and when Wonwoo switches from one breast to the other, you practically throb at how well he’s taking care of you. 
Sounds of pleasure are slipping past your lips now, and you get lost in the feeling of his mouth on your chest, his hands groping what his tongue isn’t playing with. 
You wonder how long it’s been since he had his face in a nice set of boobs, and you allow him to enjoy it. He’s clearly having the time of his life, and you can feel him beginning to grind down against the mattress between your legs. 
“Wonwoo,” you whisper tugging at his hair. 
He murmurs against your breasts, but doesn’t let up.
“Need you inside, please,” you beg. “You can keep sucking on my boobs, but, I need you inside of me right now.” 
“Let me grab a condom,” Wonwoo says, pulling off your chest to reach into his bedside table where he takes out a square foil.
He sits back onto his knees between your legs, tearing open the package while you work on his jeans, getting his belt undone and his zipper down. 
You can tell by his movements that he’s starting to get impatient too, and when he looks down at your panty covered core and smirks, you have a feeling you know whats coming next.
“How much do you like these?” he asks, hooking a finger in the fabric.
“Just ruin them,” you laugh, not wanting to wait another moment. 
“You got it, angel,” Wonwoo grabs your panties with both hands. He tears one side, freeing a thigh, before repeating the motion on the other side, then he tugs the ruined clothing item off your body and tosses it onto the floor.
“Don’t even bother with your pants,” you say, pushing them down his thighs, “just fuck me with them at your knees.”
“You weren’t kidding when you said you needed me.���
“I’d never kid about that,” you giggle, watching him roll the condom onto his thick cock. The moment he’s done, you’re grabbing at his shoulders, pulling him down on top of you so you can crash your lips to his own. 
He ruts his hips, cock grazing through your pussy folds, teasing your clit.
“Please,” you groan, feeling absolutely insatiable. He’s so close, he just needs to put it in-
Wonwoo reaches a hand between your bodies, adjusting his cock to your wet hole. “Are you sure?” he asks.
Instead of answering, you wrap your legs around his hips, applying pressure to force him inside of you. He lets out a groan as his length sinks into your wet heat, his mouth moving hot against yours again while you get his body flush to your own.
You both moan loudly when he’s inside of you fully, your greedy pussy taking him all after the build ups you’ve had in numerous dates. 
“Do you like is fast or slow?” Wonwoo asks, lips moving to your throat.
“Slow, then fast,” you respond, tracing his broad shoulders while you relax into the feeling of him.
“You got it, angel,” Wonwoo says, starting to move his hips. He rocks slowly, the tip of his cock dragging by your sweet spot as he begins to make love to you. 
It feels like heaven, and you get lost in him, moans slipping out of you with each thrust.
True to his word, Wonwoo’s pace gradually quickens, his fingers digging into your hips to pin you to the bed. He’s so big and sexy and- everything you’ve ever wanted in a man.
You hold him like you never want to let him go, and the way he kisses you makes you think he feels the same.
There’s no dirty talk, and you don’t mind it. You’re just two souls quietly enjoying each other. The only sounds are primal noises of pleasure and the soft slapping of skin on skin. 
As his pace builds, so does the feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. Wonwoo’s moans don’t help your situation, and each groan has your pussy practically throbbing with need. 
His shoulders are your anchor, your broad, lovely, wonderful, sexy anchor, and you hold onto them tightly, eyes shut while you enjoy him. 
When Wonwoo’s thrusts become almost piston like in nature, you cry out, and Wonwoo breaks your kiss to bury his face against your throat. “You close?”
“Yes, fuck, Wonwoo-” you whimper, so close to your high you can almost taste it.
“Want me to cum with you, angel?”
“Yes, God, please-” you nod quickly, digging your nails into his shoulders. 
Wonwoo groans deeply. “I’m almost there-”
“I can’t hold it,” you’re nearly crying now, overwhelmed by how good this feels.
“Then cum,” Wonwoo states, voice husky as he reaches a hand between your bodies, fingers rubbing your clit. “Cum with me, angel.”
This is the last straw, and your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, orgasm slamming into you while you hold onto Wonwoo as your life line. You gasp loudly in his ear, waves of pleasure washing over you. In fact, you see stars, vision clouding behind your lids as you’re overtaken by Wonwoo and everything he does for you.
He’s still groaning in your ear, and his thrusts are harder now. You can tell he’s cumming too, and the thought only makes your orgasm last longer, pussy milking him for all he’s worth.
You’re not sure when exactly he begins to slow down, but soon he’s coming to a stop on top of you, gasping loudly. His heart is thundering in his chest, and you can feel it through your breast where you’re pressed together.
You reach up to stroke a hand through his hair, also working on your ragged breathing. 
He holds you for a while, but finally he’s forced to pull away. “Let me get rid of the condom, then we can sleep,” he says softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before heading to the bathroom just down the hall.
You stare at his ceiling, still overwhelmed with everything that’s happened.
Wonwoo might not know what his future holds, but you’re certain that as long as you find a way to be part of it, you might be happy forever.
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Waking up next to Wonwoo had been wonderful. There hadn’t been any more night terrors, and Wonwoo even mentions it as you make breakfast together. “I haven’t slept that well in years,” he muses, holding you close and kissing your neck.
“Then you might have to keep me as a safety blanket,” you tease, although… you do mean it. 
The comment is enough to make him groan and he turns off the stove, neglecting breakfast in favour of throwing you on the table and eating you as his first course.
He buries his tongue inside your core, making you cum three times before the day has even really started. Then he sits you down and plates your meal, sitting across from you and watching you with dark eyes exaggerated by circular spectacles that set off the handsome features of his face.
“When can I see you again?” he asks when you clean up from breakfast.
“Working tonight,” you sigh.
“I could pop by, if you wanted me to.”
“As long as you don’t drink coffee at my eight pm shift,” you giggle, remembering what your chef had said about Wonwoo’s obscure proclivities. 
“I promise,” Wonwoo smiles. “I’ll get a burger again.”
“Then you can come see me at work,” you grin, stepping closer to Wonwoo while he wraps his arms around your form, tugging you to his chest.
You’re getting way too used to him, but you can’t stop yourself, all you can do is watch while you fall deeper and deeper into the world of Wonwoo.
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You’re downright giddy when Wonwoo shows up in the middle of your shift. He’s always cute, but today, with his circular glasses, he takes your breath away.
He waves as he enters the diner, and you call for him to take any table. He takes the same booth as last time and you’re quick to get him some water, scurrying over with a smile.
“Hi,” you greet him.
“Hi,” he repeats. “How’s your shift going?”
“Better now that you’re here,” you say honestly. “You still want that burger?”
“Can you give me a couple minutes?” he asks. “I think I want to watch you run around for a bit. The sooner I order, the sooner I have to get out of here.”
“Are you going to stare at my ass, Wonwoo?”
“If you’ll let me.”
“Stare away.” You wink, turning on your heel and heading to check in on a different table.
It’s interesting to have his eyes on you like this, to know he’s happy just watching you while you work. He’s such a softie, and you adore him.
You’re grabbing food from the kitchen for a couple when the diner bell rings, and you look up to see four cops coming in. It’s not that often that police come to the diner for an aftershift meal, but tonight seems to be one of those nights.
They’re regulars, all things considered, and with a short wave to you, they take their favourite table, two down from Wonwoo.
Your gaze shifts to the man who’s just told you he’s on the run from the government. He’s playing with his cup of water, but that’s the only indication that he’s nervous. His body language is otherwise relaxed, and you think maybe he’s simply a good actor.
You grab four menus for the cops, and a tray of water, casually walking over them to pick up a conversation about how their night is going.
As you serve them, you notice one of the cops peering over at Wonwoo, and you can feel anxiety building in your stomach. “Can I grab you anything?” you ask, trying to take the man’s attention off of Wonwoo. “Tea, beer-”
“A beer would be nice,” he nods.
You give him a list of what you have in bottles, and he chooses, but as soon as you’re done with him, his eyes move to Wonwoo again. 
You head to the main counter, where you put through the drink orders. 
The bell to the diner rings, and when you turn to greet the new guests, you don’t see anyone standing at the door. You do, however, find Wonwoo’s booth empty, and your heart drops in your chest.
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You’re walking home from your shift when a car pulls up next to you. For a moment, you feel your heart begin to race, but then Wonwoo’s rolling down his window and calling out to you, “Hey, angel.”
“Oh my gosh, Wonwoo-” you stop in your tracks to look at him.
“Can I give you a ride home?”
“Of course,” you respond immediately, heading around his car to get in.
“I’m sorry I left so abruptly,” he apologizes when you enter, closing the door behind yourself.
“I understand why you did it,” you sigh. “You were probably worried one of those cops would recougnize you.”
“Exactly,” he nods. “This is why…” he swallows thickly. “This is why I never stay in one place for too long.”
His words hurt.
They really hurt. 
“Look…” you choose what you say next very carefully, “if you do decide to leave town, please don’t do it without coming to talk to me first.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Wonwoo says softly.
The rest of the short ride is quiet, and when he stops in front of your house, he leans over and cups your face, pressing his lips to your own.
When he pulls away, you stay staring at him. “Call me anytime, okay?”
He nods. “You got it, angel.” 
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It’s been two days since you last heard from Wonwoo, and you’re hanging out at home before a shift when the phone rings. Something inside of you makes you jump from the couch, running to answer the call before either of your roommates can.
“Hello?”
“Hi, angel.” 
“Wonwoo-” you let out a deep breath. “How are you?”
The line is quiet for a moment, and you hear him sigh. “I’ve been better.”
“Did something happen?”
“Not yet, but… I expect it might soon.”
You try to figure out what he’s saying. “Does that mean…”
“I’m leaving,” he says, as assertive as you’ve ever heard him. “I have to go.”
Your skin heats and you feel hot pricks in your eyes. You hold back tears, taking a deep breath and squeezing the phone in your hand. “Let me come with you.”
“I told you, this isn’t a life for you-”
“And I told you I don’t care!” You can’t contain yourself anymore, and you feel bad the moment the loud words are out of your mouth. Jessica looks at you from the other room and you turn your back to her, lowering your voice. “It’s not a life for you either, Wonwoo. You can’t live alone forever. You can’t.” 
“Some days I think I was built to be alone.”
You can’t help the tears now, and you choke a little on the sob that works its way up your throat. “Wonwoo, please-”
“I don’t want to do this to you, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re hurting me now!” you insist. “Wonwoo you can’t leave, not right when-” you cut yourself off, closing your eyes and leaning your shoulder against the wall. “Not right when I’m falling in love with you.”
The line is dead silent, and each second is like an hour. You’re shaking now, anxiety flooding your system. “Wonwoo? Are you still there?”
“I have to leave soon,” he says finally. “We wouldn’t have room for furniture, or-”
“I don’t care about furniture,” you insist. “All I need is a bag and you.” 
“This is crazy,” Wonwoo sighs.
“People do crazier things for love…” you bite at your lip. “You do love me too, right, Wonwoo? That’s why you’re open to this?”
This time, there’s no moment of contemplation, he simply answers, “Of course I love you, angel. How could I not?”
This time, when you let out a small cry, it’s not sadness. It’s a release of pent up emotion, emotion you’ve been holding in for who knows how long. You’re not sure how Wonwoo came into your life and flipped it upside down, but you are sure about him. More sure than you’ve been about anything in your life. 
“Your roommates aren’t going to be mad about you abruptly leaving?” Wonwoo asks.
You turn to look at Jessica. “My roommates will get over it,” you state. “When are you picking me up?”
“Can you be ready in an hour?”
“I’ll be waiting outside with my bag.”
“See you then… and angel?”
“Yes, Wonwoo?”
“I do love you.” 
“I love you too.”
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🔮 preview. “We could always practice making babies,” you suggest. Wonwoo lets out a loud laugh, the kind of laugh that lights up his face in the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. “Practice, huh?” He releases a deep breath, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer to his bare chest. “I hid your condoms,” you say. It sounds like you’re teasing him, but you are, in fact, being completely serious. “Come on…” you plead, leaning forward to ghost your lips over his throat, “have some fun with me.”
cw/ tw. Unprotected/raw sex, sex, fairly vanilla sex, Wonwoo is a park ranger so he’s built, hand grabbing, heavy panting/breathing, Wonwoo is pleasure vocal, talk about making babies, oral (f receiving), Wonwoo loves eating pussy, fingering, multiple orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 200
🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
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bonus
The first few months being nomadic with Wonwoo had been bitter sweet. Every time you were getting used to a town, something would happen that would cause you to run. Eventually, however, you found a fit.
Wonwoo had stumbled upon a job opening as a park ranger, and it came with a log cabin a half an hour drive from the closest town, the small house nestled discreetly between the trees Wonwoo would be hired to take care of.
It had helped that one drive through the area had proven to Wonwoo that the cops were lazy, more interested in their donut runs than doing their jobs.
You’ve been living with your park ranger boyfriend for over a year now, and the cabin feels like home. 
Wonwoo wakes up with the sun, and sets off to do a run through of the trails. You take your time waking and cook breakfast, or you head in to town in your second hand beat up truck for supplies. There’s a library that hired you and the scheduling is relaxed-
You have everything you could ever want… well, almost everything.
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babygorewhore · 5 months
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I’ll follow you until you love me.
The moment Eddie Munson saw you, he thought you were perfect and once he finds your social media, it gives him insight into your world. But he can’t get enough of you. Eddie can’t stop himself from acting on his desire to follow you. Eddie is determined to make you his. But maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks.
This is my installment of a shared universe with a mutual. Who will be writing her installment of this universe soon.
Warnings! Smut! 18plus only! Stalker! Eddie. Obsession. Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected PnV! Fem reader is alternative/goth in this. Eddie is a Bartender. I’m sick and I edited once so if you saw mistakes ignore them.
Eddie knew he was breaking some sort of code. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He was…addicted. You weren’t even friends. Friendly at best. He knew you for only a couple of weeks. Your parents owned his favorite music store and he was sorting through the collection of Black Sabbath CDs when he saw you for the first time in the same aisle.
He immediately fell for you. Everything about you was perfect. Your body. Your face. Your clothes. Your voice. Eddie was completely mesmerized when you both had a conversation about why CDs were essential to the music listening experience. It took everything in him not to kiss you and ruin your pretty lipstick.
As soon as he was alone in his van, he yanked out his phone. Typed in your name and hunted for any sign of accounts you had. He didn’t even use his social media but you would be the exception. You were everything. After several minutes, he finally found your pretty picture. He sighed and leaned back in the seat.
It was your instagram. And in your bio you listed your tik tok, twitter and even your Facebook. Jackpot. Eddie’s eyes scanned over your uploads, his breathing getting heavier. It was almost as if he had a taste of your life. Your world.
The whole week in between his shift at work and when he came home, he devoured everything you posted. He watched every video you reposted, he needed to know your humor, your likes, your dislikes. He couldn’t tear himself away from looking at you.
One night, you posted your work schedule for the next week at the music store. And that’s when he decided he needed to see you again.
His shift ended at the Hawkins bar two hours after he originally planned because some fuckwad didn’t know how to show up on time. The music store would only be open for another hour so he raced to his van and probably broke three laws speeding to the building.
He speedily parked, exited and practiced in his head what he would say. He needs a copy of the band you liked Bad Omens. You posted about them all the time. Eddie needed the physical copy. Something you both talked about so it wouldn’t be weird if he asked for a disc. He inhaled and pushed open the door, glancing around as the bell rung. A collection of people were here, he tried to keep his cool. The CDS. His hair was tied into a bun and he wore all black just like you always did. He shook his head and confidently strides to the shelves.
It was different. More organized. All the decades were correct. Everything was straightened. You had the magic touch. Eddie smiled when his fingers grazed over the plastic, you had touched these. He saw Bad omens right away, but he came here for help. He purposely took a step back and wore a confused expression.
“Eddie?” There. There you were. His cock twitched. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn’t turn right away, no. You wouldn’t get it that easy. As badly as he wanted to turn around and-
Your hand gently grazed his shoulder. He wanted to rip off his leather jacket to feel your fingers on his bare skin and his breath shuddered. Finally, he shifted in your direction. Eddie almost kissed you. He had to plant his feet heavily on the floor to prevent himself. Your eyes were soft, searching his brown irises. Small crinkles around your brows showed hours of work but your mouth was curved into a polite, curious smile. You wore all black, a bad omens shirt, leggings and boots. A small name tag was right above your heart. You looked perfect. But he focused on your lipstick, the same you wore that first day. He wanted to smear your makeup. Make it run down your face while you were on your knees. He wanted to grip your hair and guide you through-
“It is Eddie, right? Don’t tell me I forgot.” He jerked his head.
“Yes. It’s Eddie. I’m glad you’re here. I’m in serious need of a music recommendation,” Eddie internally melted when you flashed him a grin.
“Well, I’m happy to assist you. I’m assuming you want this in the form of a CD?” You gave him a knowing look.
He clapped his hands. “ You remembered that. Yes. Always.” You giggled and you extended your hand towards the collection of CDs on the shelves.
“What sound are you looking for? I know you like metal. But do you want a classic recommendation, something underrated or unknown?” You sounded so considerate. You were doing your job, he knew that. But he clung to whatever interest you gave him.
“Honestly, what are you listening too? I want something different. You can only listen to so much Metallica and Black Sabbath,” Eddie dramatically pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
You nodded in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. But I can’t believe you’re actually asking for my opinion.”
“Why? I mean, I’d assume someone who shares my appreciation for metal has great taste.” He saw you from the corner of his eye, you dip your head down for a second. He needed to pace this conversation, withhold what he knows. He just needs to keep hearing your voice. He was almost trembling from the way you were accepting his attempts at charm.
“I mean-If I’m being honest. My favorite band is Bad Omens.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and nodded towards your shirt. His shoulders relaxed. Finally. This was how it went in his head.
“I haven’t listened to them. I’ve seen them on tik tok, but I just haven’t dived in.” He hoped you believed his lie.
“Excuse me?” You both turned and a older man stood at the entrance. Wearing a guns and roses shirt and light blue jeans. “I need help.”
Eddie’s chest burned. No, no, no. He just got you talking. You face him with a shadow of disappointment dancing across your features. He wanted to scream at the man but he had to stay calm. He couldn’t risk you seeing him differently. You didn’t hardly know him.
Yet.
“I’m sorry, Eddie. Gotta help him. But the CD is right there, and if you ring the bell someone will check you out. It was nice seeing you! I hope you like it!”
He was struggling to bury his anger even long after he paid for the album and made his way home. Eddie paced his room. You. You were so beautiful. So sweet. He wanted to keep listening to you talk. He wanted to know every single band you loved. He wanted-no, he needed more of you. He dug his phone out of his pocket.
Settling on his bed, knees spread apart, his thump quickly found your profile. You had so many followers. So many people watching, commenting and sharing with you online. He clenched his jaw when he looked at your story. Eddie blinked at the loud music attached. You had a closed lipped smile and your eyes were shut. And the caption talked about how much you hated rude customers. But then he recognized the song. It was Bad Omens.
He chewed his bottom lip. Was that because of him? Were you thinking about him? The same way he thought of you? He turned up the volume. Listened carefully. Was this song on the album he bought? He picked up the bag and yanked out the plastic, reading the song list on the back . Yes. It was. Eddie pressed the CD against his chest. You touched it. He brought it higher, over his chin until his lips pressed against it. He held it against his mouth, while he stared at your photo.
Eddie had memorized your work schedule. Maybe he could stop by again tomorrow. Fuck, he couldn’t. He had to work and It was too soon. You would be confused.
He couldn’t fit anymore CDs on his shelf but he would fucking build a new one if that meant he could buy more from you.
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The next day he was in his car. Parked across the street with a few cars giving distance from the music store. He didn’t plan it. He was going into work in a hour. But He just needed to see you. Just look at you. That’s it. A death of Peace of mind album was playing in his van and his jaw was clenching so hard from waiting for you to step out. He had fell asleep with his phone on his chest from frantically scrolling on your profile last night.
He didn’t know how his resolution disappeared so quickly. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet you were. How quickly his conversation with you ended. He couldn’t stand it. He needed more. Eddie’s breathing shortened when the entrance opened and you stepped out. You adjusted your bag, shuffled to close the door behind you and cast your search around the direction of the street.
He gripped the steering wheel, so hard his hands trembled as you moved aside for a stranger. You smiled brightly then you started to walk in the opposite direction. His eyes trailed down your body. Black jeans, black hoodie and converse. They lingered on the curve of your thighs in those pants. But he frowned. Were you walking home? You didn’t have a car?
Without a second thought, he turned the keys. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going overboard. He had work. He needed to leave. Soon. But god damn he just needed to make sure you got home safe. His van came alive and he maneuvered onto the street. There was a stop light coming, and he sped up to try and beat it before it turned red. He didn’t know how he would remain invisible as he followed you, but he had to try.
Eddie wasn’t sure how he managed, but you didn’t turn to see his van. Your apartment wasn’t far from the store thank fuck. He settled across the street, behind two cars. The same tactic he used earlier. You jogged up the driveway, where there wasnt a car. His suspicions confirmed. The complex wasn’t big, it looked similar to his own.
He glanced at the clock. He needed to get going. He hated being late. But your address was seared into his mind. He would never forget it. Eddie pulled out his phone, frantically clicking on your instagram. You had a new story. You were smiling, an adorable grin and your fingers were held in a peace sign. The caption said you were finally home. He wanted to help you relax. Spread your legs and make you see stars and never think about a stressful day again.
His dick was growing hard as he imagined your sweet face. Covered in his cum. Your eyeliner running down your cheeks. His hand ghosted the center of his pants before he stopped.
No. No he wouldn’t touch himself. He needed you. He needed to cum inside you. You deserved better than him jerking off in his car before he had the privilege of being with you. Eddie exhaled, forcing himself to drive.
The night shift was always packed. Plus as the manager, he was responsible for training and handling reckless drinkers. His hair was tied up, his usual style for his shift and his sleeves were rolled up, muscles flexing as he slid a glass to a guest. But his mind was a whirlwind. He hadn’t been able to check his phone. What were you doing? Were you relaxing? He was buzzing with energy. He hadn’t even told Steve about you yet, who apparently was busy with his own infatuation. Eddie kept looking at the clock. He had to stay over again but closing was coming soon. Halloween was in just a few days. What were you going to do? Dress up? Go to a party? Fuck, he needed to know.
He had fucking fell asleep before he had a chance to look at your instagram when he got home well after 3am. He crashed on his couch, still wearing his work clothes with his phone in his pocket where it died. Eddie practically shoved the end of the charger into his phone, his leg bouncing from waiting for it to turn back on. He knew he should have charged it. Now, it would take longer to see you.
He wanted to touch himself as he imagined your lips wrapped around him, choking on his dick as his hand is gripping your hair. His hand even drifted to his crotch until he stopped himself. No, he promised himself he wouldn’t cum until it was inside you. You were his. He checked his phone again as it finally came back to life. His fingers were frantic as they clicked on your name.
You uploaded a new story. Eddie sighed in relief. As it came up, your face looked tired. You weren’t smiling, instead you were holding up a glass, clinking it with another glass belonging to your best friend. His chest tightened. He wanted to be there. He wanted to drink with you, hold you and take care of you. You had to walk home. And he had to fucking work. He swiped to the next story.
It was this morning, he knew only because of the time included. Just an hour ago. You were smiling this time. It was your day off and you were thrilled to to go the Halloween store today. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at your bright eyes, the excitement and he needed to see it again. In person.
He had to try. He would go the store. Pretend he was looking for a Halloween costume. But when? You didn’t give a time. It didn’t matter. He would stay all day and wait. It was his day off too.
Eddie threw himself in the shower, got dressed and drove to the store. It didn’t matter if it was an hour away. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t planned dressing up, or that he would have to swap schedules. You were on his mind. Whatever you were doing, he wanted to be a part of it.
Bad omens played loudly in his van as he came into the parking lot. Eddie’s heart started to hammer as he unbuckled and stepped out. His neck was warm at the thought of hearing your voice again so he tied his hair up.
Opening the door, he was greeted with gruesome decor, rows of costumes and several people shopping. Fuck, how was he supposed to find you? If you were even here yet? His shoe tapped impatiently as he was torn on where to go. Costumes. That’s where he’d start. But what kind? Sexy? Scary? in between?
As he walked down the section, he pretended to search. His rings occasionally getting caught in the fabrics and plastic. He wasn’t interested in this. He didn’t want to participate without you. Oh god, who drove you here? Were you going to be alone? He didn’t think about that. He just moved. Eddie dug out his phone from his pocket.
“Hey, Eddie! Is that you?”
He froze.
Eddie turned around and there you were.
This time, you were wearing a dress. A black one. With a matching sweater and combat boots. But his eyes fell to the tattoo on your chest. He hadn’t seen it because you always wore higher neck tops. Eddie almost salivated. Your makeup was dark again with your apparent favorite lipstick. He wanted to touch your skin, run his tongue along the art. He knew you would taste sweet. So sweet.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Eddie dropped into a serious expression. “Are you following me?”
Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No, I just saw you-“ Then he grinned. He knew he was such a tease.
“I’m joking, sweets. I’m just here for my Halloween costume.” Such a fucking lie. But he needed to establish a common ground.
You sighed in relief.
“Me too. We had the same idea.” You didn’t protest at the nickname. Eddie tried not to smirk. You were happy to see him. He had to ball his fists to keep from touching you.
“What are you going as? I haven’t decided.” Eddie forced himself to sound light hearted but he truly needed an idea. You set the stage on his actions.
You gestured, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”
And then you stuck out your hand. Eddie thought he would bust in his pants. He accepted as you gently guided him to the other side of the store, where a large amount of costumes were hanging on the wall. Your grip was firm, warm and steady. You were confident in taking his hand. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your lower half, covered by the fitted dress. Your calves peeked out from the slits on the side. He saw more ink. How many tattoos did you have? He wanted to explore them. Compare them to his. You came to a stop and released him. Eddie wanted to stop you, grab your hand again.
“I’m going with this,” You pointed to the hanging plastic bag and Eddie followed direction.
The picture was a Sweeney Todd costume. Fake blood included and wig. It would be hot. You could pull off anything. But the wig he wanted to protest against. Covering your perfect hair? The hair he wanted to dig his fingers in and pull? Caress? Both? “That’s a great one. I think you’ll stand out. Not everyone knows that reference.”
You smiled again. Eddie felt like he won the lottery. “I like to stand out from the crowd, I guess. My best friend is throwing a Halloween party this year. And I finally had the day off to come here.” Eddie nodded, swallowing the urge to reveal he already knew that.
“I hope you’re not working too hard but I can’t stop listening to the CD. You knew exactly what I needed.” Your hands reached up, pressing against your chest. “You really like it? I’m not used to someone actually agreeing with me.” Eddie couldn’t believe that. Who could resist you? Who wouldn’t give your favorite band a try? He would fix that problem.
“Why wouldn’t I like it, sweets? I’ll have to get more recommendations soon, it makes my driving more exciting.” You opened your mouth to respond but something caught your eye and you excitedly beamed.
Eddie turned, desperate to find what caught your attention other than him.
“That’s my favorite slasher movie! If I hadn’t already decided on this, I would wear that.” Eddie’s eyes widened. It was a Ghostface costume. Why didn’t he know that? He ground his teeth. He should have looked closer at your posts. Maybe he would have seen it. You had amazing taste in movies.
“An amazing movie. That would have also been a perfect choice. But I’m not sure anyone could be scared of you, pretty girl. You’re way too sweet.” The names slipped out his mouth before he could catch himself. But you dipped your head and bashfully peeked at him through your lashes.
He couldn’t believe this was happening. He itched to say more, compliment you more but he didn’t want to freak you out. Especially considering he watched your instagram everyday to know exactly what you were doing but he needed you. He would do whatever he needed to make you feel the same way.
Your phone started to ring. Eddie wanted to beg you not to answer. No, stay here in the moment. You sighed, holding the device up. “It’s my dad. I need to take this. But I hope I’ll see you at the store again! And maybe we can talk more. You really get me.” And then you turned away, quietly speaking to your father.
Each time he managed to speak to you, get somewhere, it was interrupted. But this wouldn’t be wasted. No. Eddie moved away from you, as painful as it was and quickly picked up the Ghostface costume. He didn’t know how he would make this work but god damn it he would.
Eddies emotions went beyond his limit when he was hunched over, phone glued to his hand as he poured over your story on his bed when he got home. Your stories consisted of showing off the costume you bought and then several memes about Halloween being everyday for you. And then you posted your old looks. Most of them were edgy, skulls, prosthetics and some were even masks. Except one. You were wearing a short, thigh high black dress. Fishnets and heels. Your face painted with the Crow makeup. Your chest ink and your leg tattoos were on display.
The intricate thorns that wrapped around both thighs but on the left center was a large showing of multiple flowers. On the right was a skull, jaw slightly open to allow a dark snake to wrap around.
His cock felt like it was going to burst but he would not give in. He just didn’t know what to do. How would he get into the party? Sneak in? He was going insane.
And that’s when Steve hit him up. When Eddie answered the phone, Steve proceeded to explain that there was a Halloween party at a penthouse. And the owner just so happened to be your best friend.
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Eddie thanked whatever universe, energy or even a God if he even bothered to look at him considering what he was doing. It was Halloween night. He wore the long, black gown. A black shirt and jeans underneath. Heavy boots. Most importantly, the Mask. Steve charmed the security, getting them both inside. The lights were off only to be be replaced with LED strips covering the edges of the wall and even the ceiling.
The living room was spacious, modern furniture and sleek tables covered in red cups, beer bottles and liquor bottles. He squinted his eyes, his vision obscured by the mask. No one paid much attention to him, most people had some sort of horror film costume, he wasn’t the only Ghostface. Fuck. How would you tell it was him? He did all of this for you. Music blared, he could feel it in his chest as he walked around the penthouse. Stepping on decorations fallen to the wood floor.
Steve left his side but Eddie knew he was looking for the hostess of this party. Where were you?
There.
His breath hitched and he froze in the doorway of the kitchen. You were pouring a drink in a solo cup. Your costume was perfect. The white puffed sleeves, black vest and striped pants. Fake blood coated your hands, darkening your fingernails. You weren’t wearing a wig, instead you had the signature white streak in your hair. Good. You didn’t need the wig. He opened his mouth to talk but you turned and started walking into the next room.
No. No. Why did he take so fucking long? He was here right now. He used so much effort to be close to you. Eddie took a steadying breath. And he walked directly behind you, he kept trying to tap your shoulder but you were quick. Nearly jogging. His boots hit against the floor, growing louder from speed. You maneuvered through the crowd. Where you going? He almost lost you but you started climbing the stairs where more cobwebs and pumpkins sat.
Were you running from him? From someone else? Was your best friend up here? His mind raced with endless options as he continued prowling behind you. No one was here. He almost slammed into you as you abruptly halted.
You spun around.
“Eddie, why are you following me?” Oh, fuck.
Up close, your makeup was messy. Eyeliner smudged heavily, your lips were dark and glossy. You looked up at him through lashes. But you didn’t sound angry. Or fearful.
You sounded…playful.
He tilted his head. “I was-“
“It’s okay, Eddie. I know you’ve been following me. I know every time you look at my pictures. I knew that you followed me home. And it wasn’t an accident at the store the other day. I was hoping you would buy this.” You reached over, grasping the material of the cloak between your fingers.
Eddie grew hot. He thought he could be subtle but apparently not. You knew the whole time. But why weren’t you upset? He didn’t want you to be. But that would have been naive.
He clutched your hand. “I couldn’t help it. You’re perfect. The moment I saw you, I knew I needed you. I needed to see you, make sure you were safe. I can’t get you out of my mind. Fuck. And I just wanted to be here tonight to finally talk to you without being interrupted. All I’ve done is listen to the album you love. I know you said you weren’t mad but please, god I need you. I need to feel you. I need to-“
“Fuck me?” You finished. “Did you touch yourself while looking at me, Eddie?”
He was buzzing, ignited from the way your lips were in a smirk. You stepped closer and with your free hand, you removed his mask. His hair was even messier and his nostrils flared as he took in your perfume.
He was almost against the wall but he couldn’t take it. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and he smashed his lips to yours. You tasted better than he imagined. And you met his intensity. Eddie flipped so you were the one pinned against the wall, diving his tongue inside your mouth. His cock was so hard it hurt and he pressed his pelvis against yours, grinding into you. A moan escaped your mouth and he reached down, grasping your knee and pulling it around his hip. He could feel how wet you were through your pants.
Eddie ripped away from your mouth, moving to concentrate to the soft skin of your neck when you grabbed him by his arm and burst through a door he didn’t notice was there. He only had time to register a bed in the center of the room before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his bottom lip with your teeth. “I wanted you the first day you came in,” You murmured. Eddie pushed your back against the bed, landing him on top of you and he straddled your lap.
“I-can I-can I fuck you?” He had to ask, as frenzied as he felt, he needed you to want it as much as he did.
“Fuck, Eddie. Yes, I want it so bad.” You whined, arching your back into him as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses against your jaw before sucking the spot above your collar bone.
You tore off the cloak, before taking off his black shirt with it and running your hands down his chest, stomach before tugging his belt. Eddie lifted his head, helping you as he kicked off his jeans. But he wanted to taste you. He slid down, peeling off your tight pants and your underwear. Eddie got impossibly harder as you mewled as he separated your legs.
Your cunt dripped with arousal and he spread it apart, coating his thick fingers. He dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Eddie moaned at your sweet taste as he licked down your slit before slipping his tongue inside you. You were jerking your hips to hump his face, his nose continually hitting the sensitive nerves in the center.
“I’m gonna cum.” Eddie didn’t speed up, he stayed hungrily lapping your pussy and your movement locked, your thighs squeezing his head. The entire lower half of his face was glistening as he pulled away.
Eddie crawled over you and captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Smearing cum all over your mouth, messing your lipstick even further. Just like he imagined.
“Please, fuck me.” You whimpered and he clumsily took off his boxers, releasing his heavy cock leaking with precum.
Eddie lined his dick against you before pressing inside, stretching your pussy as you clenched around him. He groaned from deep in his chest and shuddered. Your nails dug into his skin as he started thrusting, deep and hard. The bed was slamming against the wall.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby.”
He couldn’t even speak anymore, you felt so good he saw stars and he loved the pain from you scratching him. “I’m-I’m close.”
He wanted to hold off for you but the way you cried out, burying your face on his shoulder, Eddie spilled into you. Fuck condoms, he thought. His breath came in choked pants as he pulled out and scooped you into his arms. He was completely naked and you only had a shirt on, that he planned on removing once he caught his breath.
“I can’t believe you knew the whole time. And I can’t believe you liked me back.”
Your head turned as he held you close to him, his arms tight around you. He never wanted to let you go. Now that he’s tasted you, he could never stop.
“Eddie, why do you think I let you follow my account? Why do you think I told you to listen to bad omens? I wanted you to think about me. Besides, your friend Steve pulling the same move on my best friend.”
Holy shit. My first Eddie fic. I’m back with fics! Huge thanks to my tumblr wife @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this, encouraging me and beta reading. And my little sister @scene-and-dandylover for always supporting me.
Taglist for this!
@reidsbtch @battymunson @take-everything-you-can @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @taintandviolent @hyperharlz @elaine-in-the-membrane @onegirlmanytales @randominstake
If I forgot about have mercy I am tired
1K notes · View notes
ms-demeanor · 29 days
Note
This is regarding your post involving making friends. I have had a spectacular amount of failures in meetup groups, particularly involving men from multiple meetup groups trying to take advantage of me or using me. In addition to that, the other members of the groups tend are often quite rude. Also, many meetups in my area tend to fall into one of the following categories: professional seminar, mommy & me, or the other members are double my age or older. What would you advise?
Volunteering - find something you care about and see if there is a local volunteer opportunity; you might want to look into food banks or mutual aid projects.
Crafting - this will likely be an older crew, but making friends with older people is cool honestly.
Sports - see if there's a kickball league or some other variety of low-key sport that you can sign up for.
Get super into the local music scene. Go to bar shows, go to basement shows, go to backyard shows. If you go to places where they have local music and hang out a bunch you will get to know local music people eventually, which includes both people in bands and people interested in bands.
Become a regular at your local library. Go once a week at the same time of day and you'll start to get to know people.
Become a regular at something else local. If you go to the same coffee shop three times a week for a few months and are polite to the employees you will probably eventually have friends among the people there; even if you do this by walking around the neighborhood park at the same time of day you will start getting to know the park regulars people love habits and if you can become a chill part of their daily scenery they will eventually want to investigate further.
Start your own club of some kind. Maybe start a book club for a particular genre of book that you like, or start a movie group where you meet up to see a movie together twice a month. You can post things like this on meetup websites or facebook, but you can also make fliers to put up in places that you think people you might find interesting would hang out.
Join a gym and go regularly. Sometimes a random person you see all the time in a gym can go from being a reliable on-the-spot spotter to a good friend.
Take a class locally. See if your town has a community center that offers cooking classes or computer classes or any kind of classes even things you already know. I keep making jokes about improv but improv people are great; see if you can take an impov class. See if your local music store offers music classes (I made weirdly good friends with the folks at the music store where I took vocal lessons; this was a pleasant surprise!)
When you try any of these places make friendly smalltalk with the people you encounter and express interest in them. If you are speaking to employees, make sure you're giving them lots of conversational outs because attempting to befriend people who are working can feel like you're cornering them, I'd actually say don't try to befriend the employees at a business unless you go there and they attempt to befriend you, however as someone who worked in coffee shops for ten years if someone randomly started showing up for six hours a week I would almost certainly have gotten to a friendly shoot-the-shit level with them within a month; if you go out among people who are sociable and are around them enough sometimes the sociable people go "aha! new friend sighted!" and do the hard work for you, but you do have to go to places to let yourself be found by the sociable ones.)
I do not, generally speaking, use meetup groups as a generic thing as much as I look into what groups exist locally that I am interested in. If a local game store is running a weekly Magic tournament, that's a better place to meet people in my opinion than a one-time bowling event.
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sjyuns · 7 months
Text
WAY BACK HOME ┆ A SIM JAEYUN ONESHOT
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BREAKING NEWS! the friendly neighbourhood superhero spider-man has been caught trying to swing into a girl’s heart — but why is he failing miserably?! is this the spider-man we all know and love? or has our hero lost his spark?
or in which sim jaeyun asks you, his best friend out, forgetting that he was still in his spider-man suit.
GENRE! best friends to lovers, mutual pining, extremely groundbreaking embarrassing pick up lines, my missed hit at being a comdeian, jaeyun being jaeyun ( ie a hot loser ),
CAUTION! idiots in love, two timing ( but they’re the same person ), kissing, love, mentions of weapons and fighting crime, bad pickup lines, embarrassment for sim jaeyun, both reader and jaeyun are nineteen in this fic
WORDCOUNT! 5100
MIKAELA’S! hey everyone, this is the first ever oneshot i’m posting on my shiny new blog! please feel free to leave feedback through reblogs or asks! hope you enjoy jake embarrassing the soul out of himself🫶 i love sim jaeyun so much ( too much it’s embarrassing tbh ) this is the last of my old drafts, sorry for the spam!
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playlist ⟡ way back home — shaun ⟡ forever only — jaehyun ⟡ pov — ariana grande ⟡ daylight — taylor swift
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i. with great power comes a platter of hot embarrassment
“With great power comes great responsibility,” is what Spider-Man once said in an interview with The Daily Times, the most widely read newspaper company in all of Seoul.
It’s so out of character of Sim Jaeyun that he himself wonders what exactly went through his mind at that given time to blurt out such a philosophical quote — especially when he was having the bad urge to take a piss at that very moment.
But whatever it was: he needs it to return now, because he’s standing in front of you, his best friend, and he thinks that now's the chance; to finally ask you out after saving you.
Unfortunately Sim Jaeyun is out of luck, like he always is with you, because nothing but five utterly embarrassing words come out of his mouth.
“You tingle my spidey senses.”
You choke back a laugh as you stare at the masked superhero, amused at his sudden pick-me-up. “Are you rizzing me up, mister friendly neighbourhood hero?”
It seems like too much thinking has altered the already broken thought process in Sim Jaeyun’s brain, because it is only now that he registers that he’s still in his Spider-Man suit, and you don’t have a single clue that he’s Spider-Man.
“Uh, I mean-” but he’s cut off by the roaring cheer of the gathered public, who have their phones out and recording.
“Don’t back down, Spider-Man,” a citizen calls out, and Jaeyun thinks it’s far too late to back out now, because not only will it crush his ego, you might think Spider-Man isn’t as cool as he seemed to be.
“Would you let me swing into your heart- I mean, could we” he pauses, “could we hang out sometime?”
You smile, and it makes Jaeyun frown slightly under his mask, because he knows that smile — it’s the polite one, the one you use in a slightly uncomfortable situation, as if you didn’t want to embarrass the popular superhero standing in front of you at the moment.
“Sure,” you grin, pearly whites on display, “could I bring my best friend Jaeyun though? He’s a big fan.” It’s him, he thinks, he’s the Jaeyun you’re talking about. And his heart skips a beat at your thoughtful action.
“Okay! Tomorrow, here, five in the evening,” he says in excitement without a second thought. You’ve just agreed to go out on a date with him, and he’s too drunk in love to think about how he’s going to meet you as Spider-Man without telling you his identity.
He shoots a web up and swings after shouting an elated “see you, yn,” in the air. All too caught up in you to realise the three critical mistakes he’d made.
ONE. He never asked for your name as Spider-Man
TWO. There’s no way he could ever go on a date with his suit on in public
THREE. How in the fucking world is he going to a date with you as both Spider-Man and Sim Jaeyun?
Sim Jaeyun spends the whole night twisting and turning in his bed, mind in a flurry as he tries to think of the smartest way to solve these problems.
And it doesn’t help him when his phone pings with a new message from you.
Guess who just bagged us a hang out with Spider-Man tomorrow!
Don’t wear that Spider-Man suit or I swear to god I will not bring you to see him.
He sighs as he presses hard on the power button of his phone, staring blanking at the black screen. Fuck power or responsibility, he thinks, all he wants is his best friend’s heart, is that too much to ask for?
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ii. man up, spidey-boy!
“BREAKING NEWS! Spider-Man spotted trying to swing into a girl’s — who supposedly goes by the name yn, heart. And after failing miserably at the first try, he succeeded on the second. Spidey may be a hero who saves lives, but it seems like he might have to take up what youngster’s call ‘rizz’ classes.”
The wide billboard screen casts a video taken by a bystander as the announcer's voice blared into the main junction of the city.
Jaeyun groans as he hangs his head low, adjusting the baseball cap perched on top of his head to cover his face. Not like anyone knew he was Spider-Man, no, but it was just far too embarrassing for him.
He hears you before he sees you, your voice is illegally sweet as it causes a smile to appear on his face amidst all of the stress. “Jaeyun!” You call, “you’re unusually late,” and Jaeyun groans, blaming it on the lack of sleep he had gotten last night, “Spider-Man isn’t here yet.”
Right, Spider-Man. Jaeyun still hasn’t found a solution to that.
His suit is tucked safely in the bottom of his bag, just in case. But for now, Jaeyun thinks it’s a better decision to disappoint you as Spider-Man instead of as your best friend. Besides, he hasn’t missed a single hang out session with you, and he isn’t ever planning to.
“Do you think he’s actually going to come?” You ask, head tilting in question and eyes soft, and Jaeyun wonders if he actually underestimated how much you liked Spider-Man, misunderstood that seemingly polite smile you gave him yesterday — should he have came as Spider-Man instead?
“Uhm,” he pauses, hesitant to squash your expectations, “how about we go first? I’m sure Spider-Man will swing by, it seems like he likes you a lot.” And even though he was talking about himself, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy bubbling in him at the thought of another boy liking you.
“Right,” you say, giving him a smile that makes his heart melt, “I guess it’s just us, like it always is.” Your fingers wrap around his, “I like it like this.” You mutter softly, yet in the buzz of the city square, Jaeyun catches the whisper of your voice, a goofy grin plastered on his face.
“Plus, if I ever need, you can be my Spider-Man — whip out that fake suit of yours. You have his physique anyway, and your pick up lines are just as idiotic as his. Maybe even more idiotic.”
Jaeyun lets out a loud laugh, one that’s of melodious dreams, and it causes a few pedestrians to stare but he doesn’t care, not when you’re next to him, asking him to be your very own Spider-Man. And he agrees immediately, all too ready to put on the ‘fake’ red and blue suit just for you.
He’s a little amused that you still believe that he’s a hardcore fan of Spider-Man, because the only time you’ve caught him wearing that very suit was two years ago, when you coincidentally entered his room to see him in a Spider-Man suit without a mask.
And he still remembers your accusations of him being a fanboy, asking him if dressing up as his idol was what he did in his free time. Jaeyun was way too flustered to even explain himself, and letting you know that he was the real Spider-Man never even crossed his mind as he bashfully nodded to your words.
But it wasn’t like you ever laughed at him about it, though you did tease him. You would still buy him different types of Spider-Man merchandise, ranging from Spider-Man socks to a custom Spider-Man mug with the words ‘Spider-Man loves Jaeyun’ in bold red.
With every gift given, came an opportunity to reveal his identity. Yet Sim Jaeyun never seizes it, he refuses to, because he finds it so endearing — the way you have the proudest smile on your face as you give him merchandise of himself that he has never seen before, the way you send him a picture of every single Spider-Man related thing you see on the streets.
“Right,” he nods as he gazes adoringly at you, “forget the real Spider-Man, I’ll swing into your heart.” And the giggle you let out once again makes his knees weak — he thinks the smile plastered on your face is much more genuine than the one he saw yesterday.
And he wants to kiss you so bad, tell you exactly how much he likes you, loves you. This familiar feeling that has settled comfortably at the bottom of his heart and back of his mind for the past four years, has only grown and never dwindled. It was times like this, where he didn’t feel the burden of having to be alert about ongoing crime.
Only with you can he feel like Sim Jaeyun — a lovesick nineteen year old and not Spider-Man, the hero of Seoul.
“Jaeyun, what do you want to do first?” You ask, pulling him through the blaring fun of the amusement park. He hums, following behind your excited figure, letting you choose what you wanted to do. “Oh my god, look it’s a Spider-Man toy.”
You halt in your step and immediately turn towards him, eyes sparkling. “Do you want it Jaeyun? I’ll get it for you. Just so you aren’t too sad that Spider-Man ghosted us today.”
He scoffs, as he examines the booth. It’s a shooting game, and he knows that you suck at shooting. “You sure, love? From what I remember, you aren’t too good at shooting games,” he brings up and you shoot him a sharp glare before pestering him to pay the vendor.
You end up blaming your best friend for jinxing you, “Yun, if you never said that, I could have shot them all down,” you complain, eyes morphing into slits as you pinpoint the blame on him. Jaeyun raises his two hands in innocence, face displaying an expression of shock, “I didn’t even say anything wrong, plus you barely hit one out of five balloons.”
You groan, shushing him in embarrassment, “If you’re such a professional, win it for me then,” you challenge him. Jaeyun shrugs, it’ll be easy — all those years of shooting webs has made him extremely sharp, so he manages to shoot all the five balloons without any effort, snagging the coveted Spider-Man doll.
“You sure you don’t want it, Yun?” you question, “add it to your collection as a fanboy.” He shakes his head, handing you the plush toy, “I won it for you. Plus, I like the ones you gave me more.”
It overwhelms you, the stark sincerity in his voice. And you feel the sudden need to kiss him, not like you’ve never thought of it before (more like you’ve thought about it too much), because Sim Jaeyun with his bright personality and handsome face is far too good to be real.
But you can’t bring yourself to be that direct, so you settle for a kiss on the cheek. A quick movement and a short peck before you let out a loud giggle, walking over to the next booth with a stupid smile plastered on your face, leaving Jaeyun in shock and awe — eyes wide and mouth agape before he bites back a smile.
He thinks it’s too hard to conceal his feelings any longer; that he has to tell you soon, next week, tomorrow, or maybe even now. And he feels the three words, eight letters, at the tip of his tongue.
As always, though, he swallows them back down, throat dry as he stares at you. The fear of rejection far too intense for him to handle.
How ironic, that Sim Jaeyun could fight criminals with equipped daggers that could kill him in one swift motion, yet he could not say three simple words to a girl who has pierced his heart and filled his stomach with butterflies.
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iii. in a sticky predicament
“Now on to our very own Spider-Man’s upcoming love story that seems to be wilting by the looks of it — Spidey, in fact, did not show up to his date with yn, who was seen with another boy at the amusement park. Our very own hero is facing multiple accusations that he may be, like his representative colour, a red flag. However, a minority of fans have brought up a speculation; that the boy we call Spider-Man, might be the very boy accompanying yn yesterday unmasked. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”
“Don’t you think that’s insane Jaeyun?” you laugh, throwing your head back into the soft pillow on his bed, “they think you’re Spider-Man.”
“Right,” he trails on, arms crossed as he leans on the doorframe, “that’s so impossible.”
His laugh awkward as his fingers find themselves combing through his hair for the nth time. And you turn your head, looking at him with suspicion. Right, that’d be crazy, insane maybe, you think, because Sim Jaeyun was well — him. He’s slightly awkward, likes physics, and hell he’s scared of bugs, so it’ll be mind blowing if he ever was the real Spider-Man.
But impossible, you think, might not be true. And you sit up on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on him. Same physique, similar height, he’s athletic, and he shoots well. Plus, from your ever so short encounter with Spider-Man saving you from getting your wallet stolen, Spider-Man is just as awkward as your best friend.
Could he really be Spider-Man? But he’s a fan of Spider-Man, wouldn’t it be weird if he was such a big fan of himself. Still, you couldn’t rule out the possibility.
“Jump,” you instruct, “hang upside down on the walls.” Jake is shocked, as his heart accelerates in nervousness at the thought of being found out.
“Don’t be weird,” he groans, trying to keep calm, “that’s literally humanly impossible.” His mind racing, finding a way to get out of this sticky situation, because as much as he wants to tell you his identity, the last way he wanted you to find out was through the internet. Also, maybe because you looked slightly angry, with your eyebrows furrowed and hands on your head, and Jaeyun didn’t want you to be mad at him.
You were deep in thought, was that why Spider-Man didn’t show up yesterday — because he is actually Sim Jaeyun, and he couldn’t be there as two different people.
That might be a stretch, but it isn’t an impossible scenario. You tilt your head, quickly grabbing the pillow you were just lying on, throwing it at him, “catch.”
He catches it easily, with one hand even, as his face contorts into an expression of surprise. “Don’t scare me like that, love,” he says. But you’re too flabbergasted at the fast reflexes of your best friend to even comprehend his complaint.
“You could really give Spider-Man a run for his money, you know?” you chuckle, as you tell yourself that no matter how much it might fit, it’s probably just a coincidence, “put on that suit of yours and fight crime.” It was all a coincidence, right?
“What if I’m scared of getting hurt,” he pouts, and you snort. With Sim Jaeyun’s level of cowardice, there’s no way he could ever be out there fighting.
“Then I’ll protect you,” you say, “I’ll be your sidekick, all you have to do is stand there and look pretty.”
He grins, walking over to stand in front of you; hands moving to ruffle your hair. “Okay love, you lead, I’ll follow.”
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iv. tell him to grow a pair
Your newfound popularity brings you more drawbacks than benefits — by that you mean the sudden fury of boys approaching you to ask for your number. It annoys Jaeyun more than it does you, as your best friend flaunts a new irritated look that you’ve rarely seen.
“That’s the sixth fucking boy,” he grumbles, eyes rolling before he glares at the fleeting figure of Lee Heeseung, the boy who just asked you for your number, the boy who Jaeyun lashed out at.
“Be kind, Yun,” you chuckle, amused at your best friend’s sudden grumpiness, “I mean, I’ve never lashed out at any of the girl’s who ask you out.”
“No one has asked me out.” he groans, “are you flaunting right now?”
“Yes I am,” you reply, “don’t worry Jaeyun, you’ll always be my loser.”
He lets out a loud exaggerated sigh as he rolls his eyes, leaning against the locker as he grits his teeth in exasperation.
You wonder why no girl has ever hit Sim Jaeyun up. Granted, he wasn’t the best looking guy back in middle school with his choice of brightly coloured clothes that blinded eyes, but you think that was part of the appeal — how awkwardly adorable he was. Now, with his upgraded fashion style and bubbly personality, it’s a miracle no one has tried their shot at bagging him. Not that you wanted anyone to.
Sim Jaeyun is yours, just as much as you are his.
And he thinks the exact same. Despite what you think, he has had a girl approach him, professing his love only to get turned down by his puppy-like smile and his confession that he liked you.
Though his body exudes jealousy, there's a slight bit of relief at the fact that you turned all six of the boys down, telling them that you had a crush on someone else. He hopes, prays, begs that the person you think about is him. He furiously looks for a sign, because he’s tired of all this, and he needs a sign from you before he can courageously make the first move.
After school, the both of you walk down the buzzing streets with carts of street food lined up along the roadside. Your fingers bunching the fabric of Jaeyun’s shirt as he navigates the both of you through the crowded streets, making a beeline for his favourite churros shop.
“I told you the queue would be long, it’s Friday night,” you whine, mentally counting the number of people in front of you. Fifteen, that’ll take a while. “We should have just ordered in pizza and binge on Netflix shows.”
“Fine, we can eat churros another day,” Jaeyun pouts and you curse yourself for saying that even when you knew he wanted to eat churros.
“It’s fine, we can stay, since we’re already here.” You stop him, pulling him back beside you in the queue, “but you can’t leave to do something else like last time, you have to wait with me.”
The glow on his face coupled with the adorable smile on his lips makes you stare in awe. And you think Sim Jaeyun is so pretty and handsome all at once it’s a crime to look as good as him. His lips, god, they look so kissable and soft, you wish you could kiss them at any given time — now, tomorrow, forever.
But the moment doesn’t last long, as faint screams and shouts travel from a small corner shop down the road. “Thief, there’s a thief on the run.”
You watch as Jaeyun’s eyes widen, body in a sudden scramble, “uhm, I’m gonna go to the toilet for a moment,” he says amidst the whispers of the crowd, “stomach ache, you know.” Running off before you can give him a reply, brushing past people hurriedly into a random narrow street.
You shrug it off again because it isn’t the first time Jaeyun has acted out of character. However, you can’t help but realise it was always when there was crime.
The questions and suspicions floating around your head for the past week resurface as you focus on the narrow street your best friend had disappeared into.
Oh my god.
You blink profusely, pinch yourself, and rub your eyes because this is mind blowing information. You can’t seem to believe an ounce of what your eyes have just seen. Was that Spider-Man who just swung out of the very same alleyway?
Sim Jaeyun is Spider-Man. And your conclusion only seems to solidify as you hear the muffled voice coming out of his masked persona.
“Oops, sorry,” and a careless swing as he tries his best to manoeuvre through the crowd, accidentally knocking over a little girl’s ice cream cone, “I'm sorry, please don’t cry.”
Yup, that’s Jaeyun. His voice now so familiar you hit yourself in the head for not realising sooner. And his utterly helpless tone as he tries to soothe the little girl — you could recognise it from a mile away.
“I’ll get you a new one, I’m sorry,” he shouts as he spins his web and shoots again, lamppost to windows to signboards before effortlessly catching up with the thief; who was now bound to the wall by web.
“Sorry,” he groans for the fourth time in a matter of minutes, “it’s my job — i mean, not that you deserve to get away no, i just-” he rambles and you giggle at his comment. Seems like Sim Jaeyun will never change, even as a superhero or as your best friend.
“I meant to say, justice has been served,” he nods, seemingly proud of his awkward catchphrase that you were sure he stole from the superhero movie you watched with him a few weeks back. “I have to get back now, someone awaits me you know - i mean, no- I’m not supposed to give details of my personal life. I’ll just- stop talking… yeah.”
And you watch again as he swings back down the street. With his identity revealed, you can’t help but look up to Jaeyun even more now — a top student and a superhero? How unfair the world is. How lucky you were to have him as your best friend.
“Hey! Aren’t you yn? Spider-Man, is that your girl?” You shrink, head down as you fix your gaze on the floor immediately, cheeks a rosy red. God, you think, this is a little embarrassing.
You feel his presence before you see his shadow morphing with yours on the floor, “hey yn,” and you look up to see the superhero, who’s panting ever so slightly, stand in front of you in his glory. “Sorry about last week, I was well busy, and I know it isn’t any-”
“It’s fine,” you stop him from blabbering, a toothy grin plastered on your face. And Jaeyun feels proud, maybe him saving someone has put Spider-Man back into your good graces, maybe he has a chance with you as Spider-Man.
“I had fun with my crush at the amusement park. Actually, thank you for the opportunity, I kissed his cheek for the first time and it felt like heaven.”
He pauses, and Jaeyun wants to rip off his mask at the very moment to kiss you. You liked him back, fuck, you actually liked him back.
“Ah,” he says after a while of tense silence, his hands rubbing the nape of his neck, “that’s amazing. So- do you… I mean- so you’re like, in love with him? Wait love might be a little uhm-”
“Yeah, I’m in love with him.”
Time stops as your eyes pierce into his, and he can swear at this moment that you knew exactly who he was. He thinks it’s over, and he can finally ask you to be his — because he’s hellbent on loving you, for the past four years he has been.
“Seems like this crush of yours needs to step up his game, or I might just steal you away,” he remarks lightheartedly, uncaring of the sea of cameras pointing towards the both of you.
“Yeah, it seems like he does. Maybe you should visit him one day, tell him that it’s about time to man up, or I’ll be the one asking for his hand.” You shoot a knowing glance at him, a confident smirk on your face.
Jaeyun chuckles, “right, I’ll be sure to tell him that, wouldn’t want him to lose such a special girl.”
“Thanks Spidey, I wonder what I’d ever do without you,” you laugh, patting his suited shoulder before he once again swings away into the narrow alleyway, only to appear minutes later donned in his usual faded ripped jeans and white shirt, hair tousled and smile wide as he runs back to you.
And he’s before you all again, this time as your best friend and you swoon as his adoring eyes and elated smile. “You okay?” You ask, hand raising to fix his hair.
“I couldn’t be better.”
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v. Batman vs Spider-Man, a battle of the mans
“Spider-Man should now change his name into wing man as he is spotted once again, engaging in conversation with the very same yn from last week. Spider-Man was not only ruthlessly dumped by her, but was also asked to quote on quote visit her crush to ask him to grow a pair. Seems like she is off the market for our poor lonely superhero, who can’t seem to catch anyone except for criminals. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”
“Seems like you can’t catch a break, huh Yun?” You point out as you switch the television off, “not only defamed into a wing man but also asked to grow a pair.”
And it seems like he really can’t because ever since you confronted him about being Spider-Man, his days have been filled with even more ruthless teasing, and weird questions.
“How do you even piss as Spider-Man?”
“Can I swing from building to building?”
“Can you hang upside down for ten minutes?”
“How do you think you would fare against Batman in a fight?”
But there’s one unasked question still hanging in the air. And Jaeyun really wants to address it, but it seems like you’ve lost your confidence by the way the flesh of your cheeks heats an angry red at any slight hint of him being your crush — or as Jaeyun would like to call himself; your soon to be boyfriend.
“I’ve grown a pair,” he says, shifting towards you, eyes trained on yours, “seems like someone has lost a pair.”
“Have not” you argue, lies — you could barely look at Jaeyun now without a lovesick smile on your face. Neither could you muster up the courage to ask him to be your boyfriend. “And if you ever grew a pair, you would have asked.”
“Ask what?” He teases, face moving closer to yours. He looks too good, godly almost, with his black rimmed glasses perched at the bridge of his nose.
You pout, furrowing your eyebrows as you place a light slap on the middle of his chest. And he lets out a low chuckle, the vibrant sun rays flush through the sheer day curtains of Jaeyun’s room, a natural spotlight glowing on the both of you.
“Fine,” he whispers, and you can feel his breath on your lips, it’s warm and inviting and you feel yourself leaning into him. “Will you be my girlfriend, love?”
You barely nod your head before he attaches his lips on yours. And you think you’re going to be obsessed with Sim Jaeyun — your fingers find their way through his hair and he sighs. It’s like he’s imprinted in your heart and you want to kiss him again and again and again.
Sim Jaeyun with pretty eyes, pretty lips, a pretty face, a pretty being, breaks the kiss only to kiss you again and again as you wish.
“Did I swing into your heart, love?” He smirks as you playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “Are we not going to bring up the time when you fell after showing me your web skills?”
He tackles you down and you giggle, “I can fall from the sky, I can fall from a tree, but the best way to fall is to fall in love with you.” He grins idiotically before racing out the door as you cringe at yet another bad pick up line from him.
“Sim Jaeyun, are you kidding me? I wonder how you even make up quotes like ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ with that mind of yours.”
“What mind? You mean my mind — the place where you always are?”
You groan in fake disgust as you watch your boyfriend (boyfriend!) smile proudly at his idiotic pick up lines. The both of you drinking sunlight as if it’s love — where he’s all yours and you’re all his.
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uncut. confessions i can’t make ( a crumpled confession letter written by a sixteen year old sim jaeyun )
hi dear yn,
i like you. it’s been a while since you took my breath away we first met. this is my first time ever writing a confession so i don’t really know what to say write… i guess it’s like writing physics notes so maybe it wouldn’t be too hard i hope
chapter one part one : what i like about you
i like the way you smile laugh, how your eyes turn into the tiniest of crescents, it makes me proud of the jokes i crack (that physics joke was good was it not). i like the feeling i have around you — it’s warm and fuzzy, natural — talking everyday without any forceful conversation, laughs or attention.
part two : why you should like me
i think you should like me because i like you. i think you should like me because i’m smart! i can help you with physics and maths. i don’t really know what else i can give you but i’ll try my best to make you smile everyday.
will you be my girlfriend? Oh god, this is so weird i actually like you a lot and
(a bunch of scribbling)
forget it. you’ll never like me back.
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dear mister sim jaeyun,
after three hours of fighting for my life, i have finally gotten my hands on the most treasured item of the year, a sixteen year old you’s crumpled confession letter to me. and since you wrote it in a physics notes style like a loser, as your girlfriend i have no choice but to follow you (so that you don’t feel lonely)
one. what i like about you
everything. i like your hair, i like your face. I like the way you say sorry to every single person in the neighbourhood while courageously saving them. i like your pick up lines on some days and how you have the guts to challenge Batman to a fight when i proclaim him as my favourite hero. i like the way you laugh and i like the way you smile. i am especially enchanted by your kicked puppy ways and easily manipulated demeanour where i can always get what i want without question.
two. why you should like me
i’m your girlfriend and you’re my girlfriend. (you are my girlfriend) you should stop staring at me with those eyes, it gives me the ick (i meant that in a ‘whatever you say pretty boy’ kind of way) you should like me because i am the person who likes you the most. (i love you so much)
will i be your girlfriend? obviously i will, i mean who can say no to you.
love you babe,
spider-man’s (your) hot sidekick
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© SJYUNS
2K notes · View notes
scaranation · 1 year
Note
HII I SAW UR REQUESTS WERE OPEN!!! your writing is so amazing i couldn’t resist sending one in after i had binged everything…
may i request headcanons for a totally whipped al-haitham with the childhood friends to lovers trope throughout the years? as in how he was to reader in elementary, middle school, etc. but if not that’s fine!!! your fic with him liking reader since middle school was so 😭😭😭❤️ reader teasing him was so funny and i can’t scream about it hard enough 🥹
i hope you have an amazing day!!! keep up the good work!
thank you smm that rlly means a lot! im so glad you enjoyed my writing ❤️❤️ i love the friends to lovers trope sm writing this involved a lot of giggling and kicking my feet, whipped Alhaitham is just so cute. Anyway I hope you like this I had so much fun with it too 😋😋
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༊*·˚ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
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Pairing: Alhaitham x F!reader
Content: fluff, modern AU, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, (very) whipped Alhaitham
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ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
You’d first met Alhaitham when you were in elementary. He, being slightly younger, was in preschool. Unlike the other kids, he kept to himself, mainly studying a picture book in a secluded corner. Your play areas were separated by a low fence, one which you often loved to climb over.
“Haitham!” You almost fell onto the grass after scaling this fence once again in the break time, peeking over the smaller boy’s shoulder.
“Is that a kangaroo?” You pointed at the picture book enthusiastically. Alhaitham only looked up at you, blinking a few times with his wide green-orange eyes.
“No, it’s a pademelon.” He spoke surprisingly eloquently, tongue only slightly lisping over the syllables.
“You’re no fun.” You sighed, plopping down next to your self-proclaimed friend and beginning to draw flowers on paper with your new crayons. Upon seeing the curious look on Alhaitham’s face, you handed him the green crayon.
“You can draw flowers with me if you want.” You shifted closer. The boy said nothing, only holding the crayon tightly as he watched you happily scribbling.
Once you’d befriended Alhaitham, there was no turning back. He was shy and quiet, but utterly attached to you. You nodded excitedly whenever he babbled on about a new topic, although you never really understood what he was talking about, and played imaginary games with him in the playhouses. He never really understood the imaginative concept, but you would lead the way as he followed along with whatever you said.
“I am the princess, and I am going to become the queen! Bow before me!” You manoeuvred a figurine across the miniature castle.
“No, the crown prince’s wife will become queen when he ascends to the throne.”
“Oh, okay. You’re so cool, Haitham.”
Alhaitham only smiled at you. The truth was, he thought you were the coolest person in the world. He might know all the logistical facts, but he could never weave a story as you did.
“Huh? Haitham, you’re the knight. You need to go to battle!”
Alhaitham was shaken out of his daze when he realised he’d only been staring at you in awe, quickly grabbing the knight figure to move it. Beneath his long lashes, he’d constantly sneak glances at you - looking for your approval that he was doing the right thing.
Whenever you were absent, Alhaitham would ask everyone else where you’d gone. After verifying that - unfortunately - you really weren’t coming to school and shocking his peers with his sudden friendliness, he’d retreat to the outskirts of the play area. He would collect flowers and rocks, gathering them in his small arms - still a little chubby with baby fat - determined to find the best things to gift to you.
When you came back the next day, Alhaitham would shyly press the gifts he’d collected into your hands, eagerly watching your expression. If you smiled, he would too. Truly, although he was too young to know, you were his first love and the centre of his universe.
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MIDDLE SCHOOL
During middle school, you and Alhaitham were in the same class. Due to his intellect, he’d been bumped up by a grade - much to his joy. The truth was, he’d been offered to move higher by two grades, but opted to only move one so he could be with you. Not that he’d ever admit that to you, of course.
Middle school Alhaitham would be better at hiding his feelings. He’d no longer be the the eager boy who openly chased your attention, although he still wanted it just as much. Rather, he’d deploy more subtle tactics, despite them rarely ever working.
It was undeniable that you were quite popular. Given your outgoing, virtuosic personality, you were constantly surrounded by friends. It hurt Alhaitham slightly, knowing that you were his favourite but he wasn’t yours. Despite this, he never changed his aloof demeanour - acting coldly to others, and less coldly to you. It was clear through his gestures that he had a soft spot for you, whether it consisted of paying for your lunch or bringing you snacks.
“Oh, we were supposed to bring a protractor to the test?” You hissed in the silence of the classroom, broken only by the whisper of pencils on paper. The teacher shot you a glare, motioning for you to be quiet.
“Here, I have a spare.” You felt a light tap on your shoulder, and spun around to see Alhaitham holding his hand out. His eyes hesitated before locking into contact with yours, the glasses making them look larger than they were.
“Thank you. You’re so cute, Haitham.” You whispered, shooting him a wry smile before resuming your position hunched over the test paper. You didn’t lie - he really did look adorable, those large eyes and small frame lending him to having a rather endearing disposition.
Alhaitham flushed red, his hands fumbling to close the zipper on his pencil case. He pushed his completed test paper to the side and placed his head on the desk, the hard surface cold on his burning skin. He mentally praised himself for always bringing a spare of every stationery item, just in case you needed it.
Whilst Alhaitham swatted away anyone else who dared ask him for academic help, he’d be almost eager to give you any form of assistance. If you were paying attention, you’d see the way his cheeks flushed when you leaned in to copy his homework, or the slight tremor in his voice when he explained a concept to you. Middle school Alhaitham - now hyper aware of his feelings for you - would be a stuttering mess at times, although that would soon change in his high school years.
“So, after completing the square… this equation can translate to- hey, why are you staring at me?” Alhaitham stopped upon noticing your gaze.
“Haitham, you can be so pretty if you tried a little more. I’m so jealous, you have such nice eyes.” You commented, running your fingers through his soft hair.
“… Why would I seek the superficial approval of others?” Alhaitham huffed, crossing his arms. Secretly however, your words spiralled in his head. Perhaps, if he did as you said, you’d like him too…?
He realised your hand was still on his head, and moved back. You whined in exasperation, flopping onto the desk.
“Your hair’s so soft though…” You mumbled, reaching out again.
“We’re here to study.” Alhaitham snapped, busying himself in flipping through the textbook to hide his red face. He found the content mundane, but teaching it to you made his heart flutter in knowing that he could be of use to you.
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HIGH SCHOOL
Alhaitham in high school was drastically different from his middle school self, to say the least. He’d risen greatly in popularity for being the mysteriously smart and handsome student that barely paid anyone any mind. Much to your surprise, he’d grown even taller than you - making it a lot harder to ruffle his hair. It was rumoured that he’d brutally rejected confessions from many others, and had even made a teacher cry - but the shy boy you knew would never do that, right?
“Where are you headed?” You felt a large hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.
“I’m… going to study!” You stammered, finally looking behind you to meet a piercing amber gaze.
“Studying? On your way to the bus stop that leads only to the mall?” Alhaitham raised an eyebrow.
“Um, yes, a new cafe opened there and I wanted to study in it.”
“Hey, what’s taking you so long? We’re going to miss the movie at this rate!” You internally cursed as the loud voice of your friends interrupted your conversation.
“Studying, huh… Well, have fun. Don’t expect me to help you this time.” Alhaitham scoffed, releasing his grip on your shoulder.
He sent you his notes later that night regardless.
It was well known around your school that you were friends with Alhaitham, although you vehemently denied any romantic feelings between the two of you - much to his dismay. Because of this, you often had students approaching you and asking to be set up with Alhaitham. Of course, being the epitome of moral excellency, you only agreed if they paid you.
"You know, this girl in my class is pretty cute..." You showed Alhaitham a picture on your phone.
"You like her?" Alhaitham asked, not even sparing a glance to the picture.
"No, I..."
"How much did they pay you this time?"
"What! I would do no such thing-"
"You know, if you just asked me, I could give you way more than whatever they're giving you. Stop trying to auction me off, I have no interest in such things." Alhaitham snapped his book shut. You frowned, tugging on his arm.
"Please? Just one date with her, I'll do anything."
"Anything?"
"Kiss me."
"Why?"
"Wouldn't it be awkward if I were on a date with this girl, and I didn't even know how to kiss her?"
"Oh, true." Alhaitham internally winced at how you didn't give it a second thought, only leaning in to seal your lips together. Although he'd mastered the art of maintaining a cool facade, if you'd opened your eyes in that moment, you'd see the flush in his face. He reminded himself to close his eyes, recalling the countless books he'd read about the topic. It definitely wasn't how he'd imagined his first kiss with you to be, but he'd take anything you gave him.
"Now, you're going on that date right? Here's her number." You winked, pulling away. Alhaitham furiously tugged his headphones onto his ears to hide how red they were, shooing you away.
"I'll text you her number then, Haitham!"
You ignored the confusing twist in your chest, attributing it to the kiss. After all, sharing a kiss with anyone would make you flustered - surely, it was nothing special.
Regardless of your efforts to make whatever dates you sent Alhaitham on successful, it never seemed to work. In truth, you had no idea how Alhaitham knew you'd been spying on those dates - after all, you were so inconspicuous, posing as a mere passerby. But he'd grown used to your exact demeanour, and no matter how hard you tried to be nondescript, his eyes were inevitably drawn to you. Unbeknownst to you, your eyes were drawn to him too - perhaps that was why you felt a slight twinge in your heart.
"Which popcorn do you like?" The girl next to Alhaitham giggled nervously.
"Salted caramel." Alhaitham responded cooly. Your jaw hung open from where you sat hidden behind a poster wall. Whenever you got salted caramel popcorn - your absolute favourite - he'd raise an eyebrow and inform you of your poor decision making, muttering something about the awful taste. You closed your mouth to smile to yourself. Perhaps he was trying to impress his date with his (superior) choice of popcorn. Your smile faltered when you realised how close they were standing to each other, before you mentally cursed yourself. What were you thinking? Surely you didn’t… have feelings for the very guy you were setting up with another girl…?
You followed the pair into the cinema, sitting a row behind them. They'd chosen a horror movie, which you absolutely hated, but you bore with it.
A few minutes into the film, you felt a tap on your knee. Alhaitham held out a fistful of popcorn to you from where he sat in front, his arm outstretched behind him. You scowled. He'd shown no prior indication that he'd noticed you - did he have eyes in the back of his head? You took the popcorn anyway, frowning at how Alhaitham played it off by lowering his arm around the girl's shoulders.
As the movie continued, Alhaitham wished it was you seated next to him. He hated the popcorn, but he'd gotten it just for you, anyway. His heart beat a little louder every time you reluctantly accepted his offering, although he had to glare at the girl who'd stolen your spot every few minutes to make sure she didn't think he was blushing for her. How troublesome this ordeal was. From an objective perspective however, this was fair exchange. If it made you happy, then he was happy too.
Alhaitham wasn't particularly athletically inclined, although his scholarship demanded participation in extracurricular sports. Hence, he found himself in the odorous male changing rooms for the second time that week. It would've been a mundane practice session (with him showing off a little if you happened to be watching), until he overheard a teammate's plans to ask you out.
"You should do it, I'm pretty sure she's single." Another teammate encouraged the first, the echo of a slap on the back reverberating through the room.
Alhaitham frowned. He'd planned to play the long game, although this was an unexpected interruption to his plans. Of course, there were other people to factor in. How could he have been so foolish as to exclude that from the equation?
"Yeah, I've had my eye on her for a while." The first guy spoke again.
"She's taken." Alhaitham blurted. Blurted, as in - his mind didn't fully weigh the decision before it left his mouth in a measured tone.
"Oh, sorry man. Are you two...?"
"Yes, we are." Alhaitham lied smoothly. He'd figure out how to deal with the repercussions later, but for now, he had to prevent anyone else from asking you out.
"That's great. Wish the best for you two." With a friendly (although slightly forceful) pat on the shoulder, the teammate left Alhaitham to head outside.
Alhaitham’s confession to you was ultimately very enigmatic and confusing, just as he was. Although he’d more or less practiced what he would say, when it came to you, he was always at a loss. You were a contradiction, a threat - both to his plans and his sanity. Somehow, that was what made him love you so much.
“I’ve heard a rumour that you and I were dating, Haitham. How come I never knew about this?” You tutted.
“Ah, they’re just saying mindless things. We’re just friends, after all.” That was what Alhaitham meant to say. Instead, what came out was;
“So what if we are?”
“We’re dating?” You cocked an eyebrow, failing to hide your flushed cheeks. Alhaitham noted this detail, trying his best to control the situation. What on earth had he just said?
“Yes, we are. Since we both like each other.” Alhaitham explained, internally cursing himself for his straightforward delivery. The situation was so outlandish - he’d just made an assertion, then supported it to somehow (very obviously) gaslight you into being his lover.
“You like me?” You spluttered. Alhaitham smiled. You hadn’t denied that you yourself liked him.
“Yes, because we’re dating.”
“No we’re not.”
“We are now.”
You stared at him in stunned silence, shocked by his audacity. But you couldn’t exactly deny his claims.
“Okay, I guess we are then.” Your mind still spun. Had he just… declared your relationship status?
“… Thank you.” Alhaitham murmured. You fidgeted on the spot uncertainly, before finally mustering the courage to peck his lips. Before you could scurry off however, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back.
“What are you-”
“I’ve waited years for this. God, you’re so stupid for not realising this earlier.” Alhaitham brought your lips to his, fiercely bringing you in to a passionate kiss.
You closed your eyes, melting into his touch as his hands deftly pulled you flush against him by your waist. Unsure of where to put your hands, you placed them on his chest - feeling it heave with every breath he took. His heartbeat thudded under your touch.
It was strange. Most people thought of him as being cold, almost robotic. And yet, he was so human now, from the light sheen of sweat on the column of his neck, to the flex of his jaw as it worked against yours. The slight tremble of his hand as it rose to rest on your nape, almost as though he too couldn’t believe what was happening.
The two of you pulled away after a while, panting heavily.
“I’ve… got to go.” Alhaitham muttered, walking off hurriedly before he could embarrass himself further. Nevertheless, it was alright for him to be selfish for once, right? It had seemed to work out in his favour.
Despite however much he tried to soothe himself, Alhaitham’s face was red, and a giddiness bloomed in his heart. Any other student would’ve been shocked to see the tender smile spread across his face, breaking that infuriatingly stoic expression. His childhood friend - and his first love - was now finally his.
4K notes · View notes
yoon-kooks · 1 year
Text
paired & pierced | jjk
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⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader
⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au
⛓️summary: When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself and doesn’t fuck with popular kids like you. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those oversized hoodies.
⛓️word count: 5.3k
⛓️warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected rough sex, daddy kink, good girl kink, she's tight, he's big, fingering, mutual masturbation, begging, edging, orgasm denial, cumshot, dick tattoo, not the soft jjk i usually write
⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️
a/n: this is a request from @screamertannie !💖 im not used to writing dom/sub stuff but i tried!! paired & puppy-eyed is jungkook's pov✨
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It’s become somewhat of a pre-class ritual for the gals to gather around your desk to discuss anything from the latest frat party hookups to guessing the lengths of your male classmates. The gossip doesn’t particularly interest you, and you’ve never once contributed to the cock talk. But who are you to tell them to leave you alone? If people naturally gravitate toward you, you should see it as a good thing.
“I heard that hottie Tim is single again,” Blue Hair Girl says, turning to you with the curious eyes of a true gossiper. “Y/N, you were hanging out with him at that party last weekend, weren’t you? Is he as big as they say?”
“Didn’t see it.” And you’re glad you didn’t. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt when he approached you, but he kept pulling you in for PDA conveniently when his ex was in sight. He was clearly using you for something you want no part of. In the end, you let him off easy by saying you had to leave early to feed your fish (you don’t have any fucking fish).
“Aw, that’s too bad.” Blue Hair Girl and the others give you a few pouty frowns.
“Yep.” Not really.
“Well, speaking of hotties, I’ve been trying to get Hoseok’s attention for a week now,” Nose Ring Girl sighs. She suddenly grasps your hands and pleads, “Wait, Y/N, you’re friends with him, right? Think you can give me his number?”
You wouldn’t call Hoseok a “friend”—he’s more of an acquaintance you happen to be friendly with, much like everyone sitting around you. But you do have his number. You have a lot of people’s numbers on your phone even though you can’t match any of their names to their faces.
“Here.” You flash your phone screen with Hoseok’s contact info before Nose Ring Girl. Her eyes light up like fireworks.
“Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re the best!” she squeals.
Toward the end of class, your professor announces something that makes your stomach turn.
“The midterm will be a partner project where you have to debug the code I assign to you and add on to it in a creative way,” she explains. “And because I’m nice, I’ll let everyone choose their own partners. Please let me know who you’ll be working with before taking off.”
You hate this. You’re surprisingly okay about the debugging part because the masochist in you kind of enjoys it, but you’re not okay with the partner part. When it comes to choosing partners, it never ends well for you. Because despite how many people you surround yourself with, you always struggle to find someone who chooses you before anyone else. 
You’re no one’s number one.
This time is no different. The girls who were so happy to be gossiping at your desk an hour ago are partnering up with one another on the other side of the room. Among them, Nose Ring Girl doesn’t appear to have coupled up yet, so she might be your only shot. Besides, you did her a favor earlier by giving her Hoseok’s number. The least she can do is partner up with you.
“Y/N, guess what?” She skips over to your desk with a big fat smile on her face. “I just texted Hoseok, and he asked to partner up with me. It’s all thanks to you, babe!”
“Oh, cool.” You try not to sound so disheartened.
She gives you a quick hug before heading back to the boy you indirectly set her up with. You’re happy for her, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck. Whether intentional or not, it feels like everyone who comes near you just wants something from you—love advice, a boy’s number, PDA to make their ex jealous, or even answers to the homework—which is fine to an extent. The problem is that people keep taking, and you’re tired of not even getting the bare minimum in return.
To top it all off, Big Tim is headed your way. Yes, you want a partner. No, it’s not going to be him. You’ll pick literally anyone else in the class over him. The question is: who else doesn’t have a partner yet? People are paired up left and right. 
Except for maybe the boy sleeping in the seat right next to you.
“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed half-hurried voice. The boy doesn’t move an inch. Maybe he’s dead.
You hop out of your chair, stand in front of his desk, and tap on the wooden surface in front of his face. Still no response.
Aware that Big Tim is inching his way closer, you crouch down to hide as if that’ll buy you more time. The boy in front of you needs to wake up right now.
You reach toward his slumped-over body and peel off his hood. There’s a good chance he isn’t dead and just didn’t hear you because he had earbuds in or something. You hope.
No earbuds. But you do find something worth noting—a trail of empty piercing holes up his earlobe. You don’t know Jungkook all that well, but he’s been in a bunch of your comp sci classes and you’ve never seen any piercings on him. You’d remember something like that because you’re a huge sucker for boys covered in piercings and body art. All you remember is that he’s quiet and always gets the highest grades on exams because he’s a genius or whatever.
“Hey Jungkook,” you whisper into his ear and tap one of his fingers. A sleepy eye finally peeks at you. Thank god he isn’t dead. “Wanna be partners?”
He sits up slowly, adjusts his glasses, and looks around the classroom before turning back to your puppy eyes. “Sure, I guess.”
“Good, good,” you sing, scurrying back to your seat. Partner secured. Mission accomplished. Just in the nick of time.
“Y/N, still looking for a partner?” Big Tim asks at your desk.
“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry.” You give an apologetic smile. You really need to stop that. If you had just been brutally honest with him the other day at the party, he wouldn’t be here bugging you now.
“That kid asked you to be his partner?” He points a finger at “that kid” who appears to have gone back to sleep.
You nod even though you were the one who technically asked Jungkook.
“And you said yes?”
You nod again. Big Tim continues to stare as if he’s waiting for you to abandon Jungkook for him. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole in the first place, you wouldn't be actively avoiding him like the plague. He had his chance.
After several awkward seconds, he finally backs off and Jungkook rises from the dead once more.
“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you,” Jungkook yawns as he fluffs his bedhead around. He looks so nice and toasty in that hoodie. No wonder why he falls asleep in class so easily.
“That’s not what he wanted.” He wanted to use you to hurt someone else. And you don’t want to be taken advantage of anymore.
“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” That’s just the illusion you’ve created. It feels so fake.
You shake your head. “Let’s just say, if a house were on fire and these people had a choice to save either me or one of their actual friends, I’d burn down with the house 10/10 times.”
“And who would you save?” he challenges you. That’s an easy question.
“No one.”
“Good answer.” The edge of his lips curves upward ever so slightly. “Alright, if it’s cool with you, I’ll just do the project myself and slap your name on it. Shouldn’t take me longer than an hour.”
“Wait, I wanna contribute too, you know,” you argue. He might be a smartypants, but you’re not the type of person to slack off and make him do all the work. You wouldn’t be surprised if other people take advantage of him on group projects like this. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t even bother with fake social interactions with peers the way you do. You admire him for that. “We should meet up and work on it together over the weekend.”
“I’m busy,” he says. Bullshit. You can tell when people make up excuses to get out of things because you’re guilty of it too. The difference is that Jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat it with coverup stories like needing to feed your nonexistent fish. Why do you find that so attractive?
“Busy with what?” You flutter your eyelashes and challenge him the way he challenged you. The fact that you’re fighting over the right to help with the project is both silly and refreshing. Usually, it’s the opposite where you’re forced to plead with your group to pull their own weight. But here you are, practically begging the boy to let you do some coding with him. Him pushing you away is a huge turn-on.
“My newborn.” He says it with such a straight face that you take his word for it.
“You have a child?” Your eyes sparkle. That either makes him a young single dilf or a committed family man you probably shouldn’t be batting your eyes at. For everyone’s sake, you hope it’s the former. “If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?”
For a long while, he just blinks at you like you’ve said something horribly wrong. Oh no. Maybe he’s still with the kid’s mom and now he thinks you’re trying to invade their space and be some kind of homewrecker.
“I was just fucking with you…” he admits. Why does it feel like he has secondhand embarrassment from your gullible ass? It’s fine, though. You much prefer being gullible over the homewrecker angle. Then he inputs his number and address into your phone. “But if it makes you feel better, come babysit my kid tomorrow.”
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The next day, you wake up a little earlier, dress a little cuter, and feel a little more excited than usual. You’re usually indifferent (if not stressed) about hangouts and parties, but Jungkook is different. It’s fun talking to him, and you don’t have to put on a fake smile around him. He’s even got that hot grumpy boy vibe that you’re determined to win over.
After knocking on his door, you wait for a good minute but there’s no response. Maybe he’s still asleep or butt-naked in the shower. You would’ve messaged him that you were on the way, but you were scared he might have second thoughts and cancel the meetup altogether. You’ve lost count of how many times that’s happened to you in your college career.
Just as you lift your fist to knock again, the door swings open. The boy who stands before you has a full sleeve of tattoos, too many piercings to count, a whole man bun, and a handsome face that looks exactly like Jeon Jungkook’s. You didn’t know he had an identical twin with a totally different style. If he wore glasses with a hoodie and took the man bun and piercings out, he’d literally be your quiet neighbor from coding class. It’s fascinating.
“Isn’t it common courtesy to give someone a heads-up before showing up at their door?” he says with his phone in hand. Same grouchy attitude though. You love it.
Wait. You suddenly remember all those mysterious piercing holes you discovered on Jungkook’s ear less than 24 hours ago.
“Why do you look like that?” You point a finger at him as if your question isn’t already rude enough. Maybe you should rephrase it. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”
“Maybe.” He lets you into his home, but you’re more concerned about all the sick art on his arm. If he ever rolled up his sleeves in class, you know you’d be too distracted to focus on the lecture. Perhaps that’s why he keeps it all hidden. He’s just looking out for you and your higher education. Yeah right.
“Why do you hide all of this at school?” You’re sure everyone would be coming to you for his number if they knew what he was hiding up his sleeve.
“Tattoos and piercings give people something to talk about,” he explains. “And I’m not really a fan of compliments or small talk.”
Oh. He’s aware of the physical and emotional impact his body art would have on anyone lucky enough to see it with their own eyes. Your poor body is already aching to see more.
“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” Or about how hot you find his lip piercing. You’ve always wanted to kiss someone with a lip ring. You’re feeling pouty all of a sudden so you bring out the puppy eyes again.
He studies the way you shamelessly work your charm on him, and you wonder if he picks up on the temptation in your pupils. “I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment,” he huffs, finally giving in.
You’re quick to wrap your eager paws around his arm and examine it like it’s your most prized possession. The problem is, he has way too many tatts and piercings to fit into a single compliment. You could write a whole essay expressing your love for each piece you see, and that doesn’t even include the ones still buried beneath his clothes.
“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” Funny how he’s acting all impatient and bothered by the “fondling” but doesn’t shrug you off of him. In fact, he was the one who lent you his arm in the first place!
“I wish I could see all of them.” That’s your compliment. Because you love the lusting implications behind it.
You flick your eyes up from his arm to his face, and sure enough, he’s got his eye on you as well. It’s almost a crime that it took this long for the two of you to come together like this. You’ve been neighbors in coding class for the past few weeks, and yet you were too busy with the popular crowd and he was too busy not giving a fuck about them. All you want to do now is make up for lost time.
The only thing that distracts you from the boy is a puffy tail minding its own business in the corner of your eye. When you look down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the tiniest fluffball dropping a mouse toy at your feet.
“Ooh kitty,” you squeal as you squat down to play with the pink-nosed darling. It’s so tiny it fits in the palm of your hand, and its meows sound more like squeaks. “Wait, is this the newborn you were talking about?”
Jungkook nods. “I found her about a week ago and she’s been a menace ever since. Especially in the middle of the night.”
“Is that why you’ve been falling asleep in class lately?” You like the thought of him scolding the kitten for zooming around at 4AM only to fall back asleep with her on his chest. You’ll take a cat dilf any day.
“Yeah. But it also doesn’t help that the professor never says anything important.” He picks up the mouse toy and drops it off with her stash of goodies including a pink bed, a pink blanket, and a pink bunny plushie. The kitten hops into the bed, cuddles up with her bunny, and has the boy cover her up with the blanket. What a spoiled little thing. “So what’s this project about again?”
“You’d know if you were listening!” Gosh, you can’t stand smart people who sleep through every lecture and still come out on top while you’re taking notes and working your ass off. You still want to fuck him though.
“I’m just fucking with you again.” He finally cracks a whole ass smile and it’s beautiful. You’re mesmerized by it as he scoots you over to the computer in his room. “I already finished it, by the way.”
So much for fulfilling your dreams of coding with an exceptionally handsome boy. With a dramatic sigh of disappointment, you run the program on his screen.
As expected, it runs smoothly, free of any bugs. He even threw in an interactive portion with a sleeping kitty. Total cat dad vibes. It’s great, and there’s really no need for you to tamper with the work he’s done. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of being the one to carry you on this project. Besides, you have an idea of how you can spice up the program and expand on the kitty part.
You spend a good amount of time going through the code line-by-line and inserting small bits here and there. Once you get to the kitty part, you add in a function to wake up the cat and have it start dancing around to a few different songs from your favorite kpop group. When it’s all set, you run it back, earn Jungkook’s stamp of approval, and submit it for your professor to grade.
“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd.” He leans on the chair over your shoulder. You’d correct him on Big Tim’s name, but you’re too focused on the way he looks at you with such gorgeous dark eyes.
“If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd,” you fire back. This is the kind of banter that results from putting two smartasses and an immense amount of sexual tension in the same room together. You want more of it.
“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him,” he says rather casually. “Doubt you would be either, judging by that game of dodgeball you were playing yesterday.”
“Well yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.” You shudder at the thought of almost being stuck as Big Tim’s partner. It’s thanks to Jungkook that you escaped that fate. 
“Why do you hang out with those people anyway?” He spins your chair around to face outward and lays himself down on his bed next to the kitten who just woke up from her nap. She’s cleaning her paws like a good girl.
“I know I have a lot of shallow connections, but I figure if I surround myself with enough people, I’ll eventually have to run into someone I genuinely like, right?” You hop out of the chair, sit your ass on the edge of the bed, and convince yourself it’s to play with the kitty. She jumps down right away to catch a fly but you don’t chase after her.
“Found anyone yet?” he asks, gazing up at the ceiling like it’s the night sky. What did you ever do to deserve seeing this handsome boy and his tattoos all laid out on the bed like this? You’d do it a million more times.
“There might be a boy I’m interested in,” you hum.
“I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it?” he laughs. Why is “Jim” the one name this guy knows from your class? “You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”
“Fuck no.” You shimmy your ass closer to him and block his scenic view of the ceiling with your face. Now it’s you he’s gazing up at. You’re free to admire the tempting ring around his soft lip, the glimmering piercing through his brow, and all his beautiful features that have drawn you to him. You look him in the eye and lie because you know he already knows the truth. “Never mind, it’s no one.”
“Really?” All of a sudden, he pulls your body down against the mattress and climbs on top of you. One hand holds your wrists above your head while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in close but stops half a centimeter from your lips. “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You were begging to work on this project with me yesterday, fondling my arm as soon as you got here, practically eyefucking me a minute ago,” he pauses as his hand unzips your jeans and presses into the folds between your legs. “And you’re pretty wet for me right now.”
You want to lunge at him and devour his lips to prove how right he is, but your arms are still being held captive. He smirks at your failed attempt to bite him. For now, you have to settle for squeezing your thighs against his hand to get the tiniest bit of stimulation. 
“So if it’s not me, who’s this boy you’re interested in?” he whispers into your ear as you feel his hand slipping out from your pleasure spot. “I won’t continue until I get an answer.”
It’d be kinda badass if you had the willpower to keep your lips sealed for at least a minute, but you give in after 0.3 seconds. You never had a fighting chance anyway. “It’s you, Jungkook.”
He smashes his lips against yours, his tongue practically down your throat when he says, “Good girl.”
The ring around his lower lip is cold to the touch, but you keep going in for more. You love the way he tastes—like sweet alcohol that encourages you to keep indulging in the high. He’s so addicting.
At the same time, he helps you kick off your jeans and slides his whole hand back into your panties. He swirls his fingers around, coating them in your lust before rubbing over your clit. The jolt of pleasure draws a soft moan from your mouth and gets your body nice and hot. Normally, you’d be eager to get your hands back to join in on the fun, but the boy somehow knows exactly how you like being touched and toyed with. Plus, you kinda like the idea of being so helpless beneath him.
Eventually, your panties come off, followed by your shirt and his. You get the perfect view of his full sleeve as well as the big shark tattoo on his ribs. If you weren’t so horny, you’d drop everything to analyze each piece in depth. But right now, all your weak mind can handle is admiring the shark.
As soon as he lets your wrists breathe, you run your fingers along his ribs, tracing the tattoo from head to tail. The lines are so smooth and pretty. He has great taste in art and apex predators. You’ll have to ask him for the artist later so you can get yourself a baby shark at your hip.
“Got any others I should know of?” you ask with two paws ready to tear his black jeans off of him. 
“Just one.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck and sucks hard to mark you as his. You can’t wait for Big Tim to see it on Monday. “You’re gonna have to earn it, though.”
You’ll do anything to get his pants off and find that final tattoo. You need to see his bare body in full, and you have an idea of how to earn it.
“Please?” For the hundredth time, you bring out the puppy eyes because that might be his only weakness. His body twitches a tiny bit, but you realize you have to take it up a notch with the dilf angle. “Please, daddy?”
The word not only makes your face hot but also taunts the bulge ready to burst out of his pants. He watches with immense focus as you unbuckle him and free his hard cock from all the fabric standing in its way. 
You assumed you would’ve had to search his skin for that last tattoo, but it’s staring you right in the face. A fat snake slithers along his cock, tempting you to stroke it with its seductive glare. You’d appreciate the design more if not for the fact that snakes eat cute little lizards like salamanders and chameleons, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t incredibly hot.
Without thinking, you wrap both of your hands around his length the same way you had with his arm. Jungkook would probably use the term “fondling” again if he wasn’t so entranced by your touch. If he’s like this with just your hands, you wonder how he’d fare with your whole mouth around him.
Just as you lick the drool from the corner of your lips, he lifts your chin up to meet his gaze. “If you do good today, I’ll let you have a taste tomorrow, yeah?”
Tomorrow is too long of a wait for a starved babe like yourself, but you nod anyway because you want to be praised again.
“Good girl,” he purrs as he removes the final piece of clothing over your breasts. Then he leans back to get your whole bare body in sight. “Can you show daddy how you want to be touched?”
You start by squeezing your breasts together and working your way down to your core. Your legs spread themselves open and your fingers glide right in. One hand pumps in and out of your hole while the other strokes your clit. You’re so wet you’d think you’d already orgasmed several times if you didn’t know any better.
With shy eyes, you glance up at the boy watching your every move. This is the first time someone has ever dropped everything to watch you touch yourself. You usually just tease your clit a little if the cock inside you isn’t enough, but never once has a boy given you his full attention like this. He might not take any notes in class, but he’s definitely jotting a few things down for the next time it’s his turn to play with you.
Your fingers speed up and your panting gets louder. How long is he going to make you suffer before he takes over? The one thing you need right now is for him to fuck you senseless.
But instead of getting handsy with you, he grabs his cock and forces you to watch—not that you’d look away anyway.
“Do you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?” he says rather calmly as he jerks off.
You nod as a gasp for more pleasure escapes you.
“Beg for it.”
“Please daddy,” you whimper, giving up the last of your dignity. “I need you inside my tight little pussy.”
“Such a good girl.” He throws your legs over his shoulders and pushes himself into you. It’s definitely a tight fit, but your body adjusts to him accordingly. You almost lose it when you hear the way he grunts your name. 
As he pounds in and out of you, you feel yourself getting dangerously close. “Jungkook, I’m—”
“Don’t cum yet,” he warns. “Not until I say so.”
You wish you’d known he was the type to torture you for one single release. If you’d known sooner, you would’ve tried to pace yourself. Now you’re stuck on the edge without permission to orgasm. You love it here.
In the meantime, he gives you some more sloppy kisses. His tongue doesn’t have to fight for dominance over your docile one, but he’s certainly not holding back. That, in combination with the forceful thrusting down below, is your definition of the best rough sex.
At some point, the pleasure begins to melt altogether into a foggy haze of feral lust. Your moans have been reduced to a broken record machine, and your poor body is just waiting to hear the word to finally hit its high. You don’t even know how much time has passed.
“You poor thing,” he growls into your mouth. On pure instinct, you tighten around him and feel him tense up. “Do you enjoy it when I tease you like this?”
You nod without thinking too hard about it.
“Think you can go another hour?”
Hell no, but you nod anyway.
“I’m not that mean,” he chuckles as his hands slide up and down your limp legs. “But good to know.”
He quickens the pace to build the pleasure back up with you still so tight around him. Your obnoxious moans and whimpers give porn star vibes. He better let you get your release soon if he doesn’t want any complaints from his neighbors.
“Please, Jungkook, I can’t—” you gasp, biting back the impending wave of pleasure. Your claw marks are etched into his ribs. “Please let me cum.”
Satisfied with your begging, he nods with the cockiest smile you’ve ever seen and gives you the okay. It feels like your whole body breaks into a million pieces of pure pleasure. Your back arches, your walls tighten even more around him, and your chest heaves up and down as you ride the wave out.
Not long after, he pulls out and pumps his fat cock over your breasts until they’re covered in his lust like two glazed donuts. He admires your glossy worn-out body for a good while before tossing you a hand towel to clean up. You feel timid and small all of a sudden. What if there’s nothing left to say after the excitement of sex has come and gone? What if he shrugs you aside like everyone else does once they get what they want from you?
“Did you really call me daddy?” He throws his pants back on and joins you back on the bed. You can tell he’s trying his best to hide a smile, but you see through him. It’s adorable.
“I thought you were into it, no?” Your face is flushed with heat again as you slip back into your outfit.
“It’s cute coming from you, I guess,” he shrugs as if he’s not aware of how weak he is to your baby girl charm. “I was just going with it because you said it first.”
“Well if you don’t like it, I won’t say it next time.” You give him a hmph for extra emphasis.
“I didn’t say that,” he clarifies, almost a little too quickly. You knew it. 
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Your voice is soft.
“Go for it.”
“Why did you invite me over even though you finished most of the project yourself?” It’s been in the back of your mind all day, although you did shove it away during the sex.
“Well, my little demon cat kept me up all night so I thought I might as well work on it. And you were hard set on coming here, weren’t you?” he says. You nod for him to continue. “But also, I wanted you to know that there’s at least one person in our class who’d save you from that house on fire.”
He’d choose you. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you.
“Yeah, but you hate everyone else, so I’m your only option.” Your smartass can’t help but point out the flaw in his statement. If anything, it’s you challenging him one last time.
“Maybe you’re the only option that matters,” he hums to himself as if those words don’t mean a thing. Who knew a grumpy boy could say such soft things? And who knew you’d fall for it? 
If a hundred shallow friendships is what it took to bring you to this moment—this boy on this bed—then you’re glad you took that route. And you’re even happier that that route ends where this new one begins.
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straywrds · 9 months
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do you know what your heart wants? | super bored chap. 3 🔞
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pairing: hyunjin x afab reader | wc: 27k | genre: college au but they graduated, romance, smut | warnings: angst ; mutual pining ; reunions, sorta love triangle but if you squint ; drinking ; recreational drug use (weed). This work is for adult audiences only, view all compiled warnings here.
No matter how long you left it, when you returned home it always felt the same, it never felt foreign, and you always belonged there. Hyunjin could have been gone for fifty years and it wouldn’t have made a difference, not one bit.
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Chan offered his best smile to the room, the one you knew he only had when he was nervous but tried to play it cool.
“Maybe we could start with the basics—how about you give us a complete rundown of the charity, the cause, the fundraising, all that?” 
“Absolutely.” Hongjoong accepted a cable from Chan and wasted no time connecting his laptop to the projector. You sat in silence with yours, waiting to take some notes on what may be relevant to you right now. “Big charity event—it’s a yearly thing, except this year is the 10th anniversary so we’re going for something bigger.”
“What’s the event like typically?” Changbin asked, looking very serious with his ipad and his glasses. You were tempted to snap a picture of him and send it to his girlfriend—she was a kind girl and she was funny and you were trying to find a way to become her friend. You knew this would make her smile.
Making friends as an adult was so hard. Well, for you at least. It didn’t seem hard at all for Chan—whenever he took you and the guys out for drinks after work, he seemed to attract all sorts of people who liked to make friendly conversation with him. A lot of the time women were hitting on him, too, but he rarely indulged them. And you were grateful about that since you did share an apartment with him… 
“It’s for a children’s hospital,” So-yeon explained. She had already left a strong impression on you—in just the few minutes she had spent here in this conference room, you had learned that she had to work really hard to earn this job on the museum’s administrative board, and you respected her even more because of it.
It also made you rethink it all. How you had taken this job because Chan had offered it to you but you knew he didn’t have many other options. That had never been your dream. To be something someone settles for. That was maybe one of your greatest fears.
But was really a work meeting on a sunny afternoon the best place to contemplate life? Probably not. So you listened to the briefing about the museum charity instead, hoping it would distract you from your not-so-fun thoughts.
“In the past years, artists—sometimes local, sometimes international—would create paintings or pieces of art and they would simply be sold in an auction to raise funds for the children’s hospital,” So-yeon went on. You had a vague knowledge of this—you had probably seen footage of someone handing another person one of these giant checks on TV. “But for this year, we wanted the children to be involved, so the artists will collaborate with a few of them directly.”
“Oh, that’s actually pretty cool,” Chan commented. “Would an auction still take place to raise funds?” 
“Yes, but we felt like it wasn’t enough,” Hongjoong continued. “So on top of that, the artists will also be painting the walls of the entrance hallway with as many children as possible. Like a giant mural. We thought we could also gather more attention if we invited celebrities—actors, idols, internet personalities, you know?”
“That’s a sound course of action if I’ve ever seen one.” Chan was typing furiously on his laptop as he was talking. “Honestly, I don’t see why the other guys dropped you. This sort of event promotes itself.” 
There was a long silence in the room, punctuated only by the sounds of Chan’s keyboard. You and Jisung exchanged a knowing stare. “They didn’t like your art director, did they?” you asked, alternating between looking at Hongjoong, So-yeon, and Wooyoung. “The guy that’s on his way here with a whole ass cat in his shirt.” 
So-yeon laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.” 
“Then maybe they were not the right kind of people to lead the marketing campaign on a charity event,” you pointed out. You were no expert, but you knew for a fact that people who went out of their way to help others—animals or humans—couldn’t be so bad to work with if you had empathy.
“You and I agree on this.” Hongjoong flashed a smile at you and returned to his laptop. “Can I use your printer? I didn’t have time to print out the files so we can review them together.” 
“This one’s out of ink,” you replied, pushing yourself out of your chair, a little too glad to have a great excuse to leave this room. You motioned towards the printer that was by the door. “Just select the second printer on the list, I’ll go get the documents.”
You didn’t wait for a response and made your way out of the conference room, vaguely hearing Chan saying he was coming to help you because ‘that printer always gets jammed’. Then, Wooyoung chimed in. “Oh, looks like our missing guy is here, he just texted that he’s at the door.” 
“I’ll go get him,” Changbin announced, but already his voice was faint as you had just turned the corner. “Do we have some sort of box to put that cat in? Or is he gonna keep that cat in his shirt during the whole meeting—”
Still, you went down the hallway and towards your office. It was a small room but it was yours, and you had spent countless hours here, working on various projects. Usually with a podcast on, or some background music. You made sure to walk as quickly as possible in the hopes of evading Chan—you needed a minute. Just one minute, alone. 
You had known a person like this. It felt like a lifetime ago but it really wasn’t. A boy who had found a frog by a bush of hydrangeas in Chan’s old backyard. A boy with fancy lollipops and a dorky laugh and a heart of gold. A boy who had made you feel things you never even thought possible, with honesty in every word he spoke. Misunderstood by the world around him and yet he saw beauty and art everywhere he looked. You had known a person like this. Who had been rejected because others couldn’t wrap their heads around someone like him. Someone carefree and yet deeply caring. Someone funny, talented. Someone real. 
He had been real. Real enough that you thought about him every day—sometimes a lot, sometimes just as a passing thought. But he had changed you somehow. You saw him when you walked by ponds or when Jisung passed you a joint. You tasted him in red candy and felt him in cool autumn breezes. He had been real but he felt like your brain had made him up for some cruel reasons. Your own custom-made fairy tale. 
“I’m here!” Chan put an end to your mind's mini-spiraling episode and you couldn’t even be mad. 
The printing process had just begun. “I think I can manage a paper jam on my own, Chan.” You turned to him and crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s literally my printer. In my office.” 
Chan chuckled and offered you an apologetic smile. “Yeah, no, you’re right.” Still, he came to stand next to you. “Exciting project, isn’t it?” 
“Honestly, yeah. It’s a good thing for the community and it feels good to be involved in it. I already have some ideas… like—if the team is alright with this—I’d like to use children’s drawings to design the posters and—”
“Sounds good, sounds great,” Chan interrupted your sentence before you were done explaining your vision, which threw you off—he always listened to everyone diligently and it was very unlike him to cut you off, especially when it was about work. You saw on his face that he had noticed it. “Sorry, I just… I feel bad about lying to Jisung. About… the plus one. All of that.”
You nodded absentmindedly, focusing on the noises coming from the printer instead. “Don’t feel bad. We can find you an actual date before the wedding. I’m sure that many girls would love to go on a little cruise.”
Jisung and Sun-young’s wedding would take place on a real boat—not the huge cruise boats but still far from just a ferry—for a two-nights trip at sea. Sun-young’s father was the captain of that boat and he generously rented all the rooms for the guests while Jisung’s parents paid for the wedding dinner. It would be one hell of an event—so of course a guy like Chan would have absolutely no problem finding someone to go with. 
“Oh, maybe,” Chan said with a shrug. “We could just… go together, you know? I mean if Ji needs to free an additional room… or just… it could be fun, yeah?”
Your heart jumped in your chest as your mind ran marathons. Bang Chan himself was asking you to be his plus one at your friend’s wedding. Your old college self would be creaming her panties at that idea. But your today self felt warmth spread behind her neck. You didn’t know where to look—you couldn’t bear making eye contact with Chan but the sight of the printer spewing sheets of paper made you dizzy. You settled for going to your desk, pretending to be looking for something in a drawer. 
“I mean, we’ll both be going anyway,” you pointed out. “Won’t we?”
Chan followed you to your desk and leaned against it. With a sigh, you closed the drawer and mustered up enough courage to look him in the eyes. He had a soft smile on his face, although his cheeks were pink. “Sure, we will. Last I checked, I was the best man for this wedding…” Chan chuckled and you laughed with him, which eased the tension between you two. “Sorry for making you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t.” The printer was done and the sheets rested in the tray, but you made no move to recover them yet. “Sorry for making things weird.”
“You didn’t.” Chan’s smile faded a little and he bit his lip softly. He sighed, as if his forces were abandoning him. “Look, we’re both adults, aren’t we? Can I speak frankly?”
Relief washed over you—tiptoeing around was much more exhausting than being straightforward. “For the love of god, yes.” 
“Just earlier, I mentioned the party where Jisung met Sun-young. And… your mood shifted. I know why. I remember that party. I made you a s’more. You fell into the fire.” 
If your mind had been going at lightspeed earlier, it quietly slowed down until it became the vacuum of outer space itself. You didn’t look away from Chan and didn’t pretend you didn’t know what he meant. 
“I fucked up that night,” Chan went on. “I acted like a dumbass. Instead of hanging out with you, I hung out with another girl, but I didn’t even like her. It was to make you jealous. I don’t know what I was thinking, I was so fucking stupid... I wanted to ask you out.” 
It wouldn’t have felt much different if Chan had dropped a block of concrete over your head. You choked on the nervous sip of water you had just taken from your bottle, causing you to cough violently for a few seconds. 
For months you had had a crush on him. Chan the cool guy. You used to go out of your way to ‘accidentally’ bump into him after his classes when you didn’t even have lectures in the same building as he did. You'd follow Jisung to places you didn't care for if he mentioned Chan was going to be there. For months, you had thought he barely saw you. 
“No fucking way…” Your voice sounded small so you cleared your throat. 
“And I’m not even asking you out right now,” Chan added hurriedly. “But sometimes I wonder what would have happened if instead of messing around I would have stayed with you that night. Like, I know you left the party with—”
But the rest of Chan’s sentence was drowned by a sudden commotion coming from the conference room. Even from here, you clearly heard shouts and exclamations, as well as Jisung’s voice booming through the hallways.
“FROG BOY?????????????????”
Your eyes met Chan’s—your mind was empty and full at the same time, as if you couldn’t properly process what was happening. You looked at the hallway where all the shouting was still coming from, then at the printer, then at Chan again. In milliseconds, both of you were bolting out of your office to investigate the chaos.
And nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you entered the conference room again. 
Everyone had left their seats and were standing in a circle around someone that hadn’t been there previously. A man, tall, with broad shoulders and a black hoodie. He was holding a small tabby kitten in his hands and was talking excitedly with Jisung and Changbin. He wasn’t looking at you but you saw him perfectly—the beautiful traits of his face, large, brown eyes, lips the color of roses. There had been a ring on the bottom one before but it was gone now. 
His hair was still bleached to a warm, buttery blond color, but it was longer now, almost reaching his shoulders in length. It was silky smooth, shining under the sun that was filtering through the windows. One side of it was tucked behind his ear, showing not a flashy rose-shaped helix piercing but something more modest—two simple black rings. 
He looked so different and yet exactly the same. A calm, poised aura, a soulful gaze, a genuine smile. You could have not seen him for a hundred years and you would be able to recognize him. 
Hyunjin. Your Fairytale.
He didn’t look real because how could he be real? How could he be standing in the middle of this conference room, right now, today? What were the odds of the pieces of this puzzle coming together like that? 
A million thoughts went through your head—how you should have known from the info disclosed by the museum team that he was their art director. Maybe you had known the moment you had seen the black hoodie in the picture. But why was he here? When had he returned from Paris? Why hadn’t he texted you? He looked good, healthy, happy. He looked all grown up, serious but with a playful glimmer in his beautiful eyes. 
Hyunjin slowly twisted his neck, apparently to say something to So-yeon who you were now standing just behind, and he caught sight of you. The room fell silent immediately—you couldn’t not notice Jisung’s shocked expression and how he brought his hand to his mouth as if he was witnessing a life-changing event. 
Hyunjin’s brows furrowed slightly, like he didn’t believe what he was seeing. “T—Tipsy?” 
You couldn’t believe it either. You tried to say something, anything—his name, or just a goddamn hello, but your voice got stuck somewhere in your throat. Before you knew it, tears were pricking at the corner of your eyes, but they weren’t from being upset, or even from being surprised. Relieved was closer to it. Grateful would be more accurate. 
In an instant, Hyunjin handed over the small kitten he had in his hands to Jisung who grabbed it without hesitation. A second later, you found yourself pulled into a tight hug, Hyunjin’s arms tightly wrapped around your body, and it felt like taking a rest after a long journey. He felt the same as it had before, but different. Better. Your head found its way to the crook of his neck where you basked in his scent, familiar and foreign all at once. He smelled like complex cologne with smoky undertones, like roses, like laundry detergent, like a soft breeze. 
Hyunjin smelled like home.
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“I’m actually really excited about this project guys. It could mean a lot of good stuff for us.” Chan’s smile had returned—he had just walked the museum team to the front door after the meeting. 
You were still in the conference room with Changbin and Jisung, clearing up used cups and files that had been left behind. Your mind was even more clouded than it had been while Hyunjin was still here. “Will you come tonight?” he had asked you. You specifically. 
Of course you would. 
Changbin’s phone rang with a text notification. “Ah, Wooyoung texted me the address of Hyunjin’s place.” He started typing a response. “Kinda crazy that we met frog boy again, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is.” You could feel Jisung’s eyes drilling holes into your skull but you didn’t even look at him—you just kept piling up the empty coffee cups to go and rinse them before recycling them. “Hey, y/n, could I borrow you for fifteen minutes? I’m supposed to submit the draft of the seating chart tomorrow but I fucked up the template on the file…”
You kept your eyes on what you were doing—grabbing your laptop in one hand and the cups in another. “Sure, Ji. I’ll get started on the pamphlets for the charity but meet me in my office whenever.” You made yourself smile and also made yourself look at him. He had a concerned expression on his face but you ignored it. You added, “I’ll do it free of charge, of course,” in case he thought you were going to ask him for money.
Jisung smiled back and turned to Chan. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not,” Chan responded. “She can whip up a simple seating chart in five minutes probably, but take as long as you need. Changbin, can you come with me? Let’s start looking for our ad slots right away.” 
Chan and Changbin’s conversation faded in the hallway when they left. You left soon after them, making your way to the nearest bathroom after leaving your laptop on your desk. You began rinsing every cup religiously, almost as if your life depended on it. 
Jisung came up behind you, leaning on the door which you had left ajar. “Hey. Need help with that?”
You shook your head. “No thank you, Ji. They’re just cups.” 
“Sure. I’ll go get started with the seating chart then.” But he didn’t move. 
You rinsed the last cup and left it to dry on the counter while you toweled your hands. When you looked up, you saw that Jisung was observing you through the mirror. “What? I said I’ll meet you in my office.” 
He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. “Are you okay? Don’t bullshit me.” 
You placed the towel back on its metallic hook, making eye contact with your friend. The mirror needed to be cleaned, but you could tell that Jisung was genuinely concerned. You also noticed that you were pale, except for your flushed cheeks. 
“I don’t know,” you admitted. You had no wish to lie to Jisung. You two had become very close—he often worked directly with you, and you often went to dinner with him and Sun-young. In fact, this closeness had started blooming before your college graduation. As if Jisung had sensed that something wasn’t quite right with you then. 
“That’s alright,” Jisung said, putting his hand on your shoulder. “Nobody expected Hyunjin to just show up like that.” 
“I’m just… I’m happy, like so happy, and at the same time… I don’t know.” You shrugged, but put your hand over his. “Don’t worry, Ji. I was just surprised, I think.” 
Jisung pulled gently on you until you were actually facing the real him, not his reflection. He tilted his head and stared at you right in the eyes. “I remember the look on your face after he left. I’ll never forget that. Look—I think Hwang’s a neat guy. Saves frogs and kittens, obviously great at his job, all that. But I don’t want you to get hurt all over again. You know?” 
Tears immediately welled up in your eyes as something tugged at your heart. You nodded slowly, feeling bare and vulnerable under Jisung’s piercing gaze, and yet safe. Relieved. “I know,” you replied, your voice small and a little shaky. “It’s okay, Ji.” You cleared your throat and wiped the corners of your eyes. “Let’s go work on your wedding seating chart, shall we?”
Jisung chuckled. “Oh, I lied about that. I just wanted to talk to you in private, which we did.”
You slapped him softly on the arm. “Dammit, Han!” 
Jisung’s laugh warmed up your heart and you felt better instantly. He said he would go help the other two but that you could come to talk to him if you wanted. “Or you can just come work in Chan’s office if you don’t want to be alone. I think we’ll be leaving soon though…”
But Chan’s office was probably the last place you wanted to be. So you sat at your desk and tried to start working but couldn’t manage even basic photo editing properly—and no amount of coffee or soothing background music could help you. You texted the guys leaving now, see you later at Hyunjin’s place and went back home. 
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A long shower, a glass of wine, and several outfit changes later, you settled on a classic but flattering navy sundress. The skirt was flowy but stopped just above the knees. You decided to wear it with a distressed denim jacket and a simple but beautiful golden necklace that had been a gift from Lee Minho for your last birthday. I should call him, you told yourself as you finished applying some mascara. It’s been a while. The small pendant was cute—it was tulip-shaped. 
Which also reminded you that it had been even longer than that since you had spoken with Chae—after her breakup with Minho, she had applied for a job in Busan and had moved away. Such potential wasted, and all for a stupid miscommunication issue. Things had been so good between Minho and her… until they weren’t. 
Chae had needed to isolate herself after the breakup but it had been quite the opposite for Minho. One might have expected differently but he had started hanging out with you a lot more, becoming a close friend. The story was quite simple: when Chae had learned that Jisung was getting engaged, she had grown distant toward Minho, who had immediately assumed she may have had feelings for Jisung, which she had buried all these years. After all, it was a known fact that Jisung had a crush on Chae for most of their college years. 
You hadn’t been able to get the full story from Chae, but you only knew that she had no romantic feelings for Jisung. The problem was elsewhere. I just don’t feel like commitment is Minho’s priority right now, was all she had said. And it hadn’t mattered, not really—the damage had been done. So they had parted ways.
Sometimes you just went on walks with Minho, or he called and asked if you wanted to go see a movie with him. He usually went home with you or you with him, and you had a few drinks and serious conversations. One night, he was slumping over the coffee table in your living room—you could hear Chan’s furious typing noises through the closed door of his bedroom—and Minho had said something that had stayed with you. 
“It just doesn’t feel right to not be with her. My friends tell me to trust the process, that if she left it wasn’t meant to be, but I fucking know it in my heart that there’s nothing right about this.”
You had carried these words like a burden but also like a liberation—you weren’t crazy. You hadn’t made it up. Those feelings that you had, Minho also had them. It just explained why you were so lonely, and why you would stay lonely. You had known something that you no longer had. Something that couldn’t be replaced. And nothing had felt right ever since. 
Until Hyunjin had held you in his arms today. That had felt real and that had felt right. 
You stared at yourself in the mirror, neither happy nor unhappy with what you were seeing. As if it didn’t matter. And maybe it didn’t. The color of your dress, how much cleavage you were showing, whether your hair was shiny enough or not. He may have been your Fairytale and you may have been Tipsy to him, it didn’t change the fact that there hadn’t been anything tangible between Hyunjin and you, and that whatever had happened had occurred a long time ago. And yet, your mind often wandered back to these moments. The first kiss, in the park. The way he had pulled out a frog from his hoodie to show it to you. The feeling of his lip ring against your skin and the way he had fucked you—gently, deeply, good. His laugh, his smile. The way he always made sure your feet stayed warm.
You heard Chan’s footsteps outside of your bathroom and they stopped just by the door. “Hey, are you ready soon? The cab’s almost here,” he said with a soft voice. 
You cleared your throat. “Yeah, coming now.” 
But you made one more stop before leaving your bedroom. You returned to your closet, digging deeper into it, until you found it. It was the same as it had always been. Hyunjin’s hoodie. The one he had left you that first night. The one you forgot to return. You felt the soft fabric under your fingertips, hesitating a few seconds before taking it off the shelf it was on. 
You pressed it under your nose to inhale its scent, but it had none. Of course not. You had worn it a lot at first, after Hyunjin had left—so you had washed it often, too. You would wrap yourself in it and fall asleep like that, pretending that he was with you. Pathetic. 
You quickly joined Chan waiting for you by the door—without a word, both of you went downstairs to wait for the cab you would share with Jisung, who lived near your building. 
Chan shot a few glances at you—you were on your phone, drafting a short but thorough text for Chae. You wanted to hear from her. Hell, after that big project with the museum, maybe you could take a couple of days off and go pay her a visit… 
“Are you really afraid of being cold? It’s summer,” Chan pointed out, motioning towards the neatly folded hoodie that you were holding. 
“No.” You finished typing the sentence and sent the text, knowing that Chae would need a few days to process it anyway. You figured she had somehow found out you were close with Minho and that didn’t seem to please her very much. “I forgot to return this hoodie to Hyunjin, back in the day.” 
Chan offered you a nod. “I’m still trying to figure out if we should have a conversation about this or not.” He paused, sighing. “I think that’s our cab over there.” 
“There’s no conversation to be had,” you retorted. “At least not right now. I’m only one glass of wine into tonight.” 
“Noted. And same, I guess we can talk after I’ve had a few shots.”
The cab in question slowed down before stopping in front of you both—you immediately saw Jisung pushing himself on the opposite side to let you and Chan in. “I still don’t know what I’ll tell you, Bang Chan.” 
You pulled the door open and sat next to Jisung. He had a large bag on his knees—by the sound the bag produced when you squeezed yourselves to make space for Chan, it was filled with various bottles of alcohol. 
“Thanks for running our errands,” Chan said once the car had started again, pulling his phone out. “I’ll transfer you the money right now.”
“Oh, me too.” You had asked Jisung to get you a few bottles of soju and had agreed to also share a bottle of wine. 
“No it’s fine, it’s all on me guys.” By the look of it, Chan had already transferred the money. 
“Thanks boss!” Jisung reached over you to slap Chan’s shoulder. 
You decided to look in front of you, at the road and the cars driving around. Even the buildings were suddenly very interesting. “I’ll pay you back,” you said after a while.
“No, it’s a gift. Let’s use this evening as some sort of team-building opportunity,” Chan offered. “If we hit it off with the museum guys, I think they’ll come back to us for other projects, you know?”  
“Damn, that’d be great! Government money!” Jisung seemed relaxed and you found yourself wishing you felt the same, too. Instead, you held tighter to the hoodie in your hands, letting it remind you of better days. Easier days, at least. 
You never allowed yourself to think about it too much. About Hyunjin, and when he would return. If he would ever return. You only allowed abstract thoughts, nothing too tangible—hope was too heavy to carry over long periods of time. But as you scanned the scenery around the car, you slowly realized that there had been speckles of hope hidden in the darkest corners of your soul—they were coming alive tonight, and it was painful. It was beautiful. You felt them in every cell of your body, coursing through your blood. 
You had never thought about what would happen if Hyunjin would return. Maybe you should have prepared for it—maybe you should have established a plan, a step-by-step procedure for that moment. But how could you have prepared for something like this? 
The back of the car was growing warm despite the air conditioning—sandwiched between Jisung and Chan, you tried taking deep breaths and closing your eyes. Maybe you had drunk that glass of wine a little fast. Maybe your thoughts were wandering places you didn’t want them to go. Red lollipops, warm cuddles in a dimly lit bedroom. Slow kisses, feelings too big for the hearts that held them and for the time that had been allowed to them. 
And yet, you just couldn’t forget the last Christmas party. Chan pulling up your skirt and spreading you open on his desk where he had fucked you. Tequila breaths. When you had gone to bed that night—you in your room and Chan in his, you had wondered what your life would be like if you had never met Hyunjin. A terrible thought. Something you didn’t mean, but a thought you had for half a second nonetheless. Because he had ruined you. No one in the world compared to him, not even your college crush. The kindness in his soul, the vivid memories of his tattoos and his fingers in your hair. 
But you couldn’t wish that you had never met Hyunjin, even if it came with a cost. Because how could you ever want a life where you had never known something as beautiful, as real, as the moments you had spent with Hyunjin? 
The drive took some time, but not too long—after a while it became easier to use the boys’ voices as background noise and forget everything. Lulled by the warmth of the day and the rocking of the car, you managed to find a semblance of peace. Or at least you liked to think so. 
You found your way to Hyunjin’s floor rather easily. The building was clean and classy but not too flashy, and when Jisung knocked on the door and Wooyoung came to welcome you into Hyunjin’s home, you couldn’t help but think that his place was undeniably his.
You saw a lot at once, so much so that it took you a few seconds to process everything—you let Chan and Jisung in first, taking your time to switch from your shoes to some slippers. 
It was a European-style apartment with high ceilings and large windows. The walls were plaster with a textured finish. At first glance, the furniture seemed to be a mix of modern and antique styles. It shouldn’t make sense and yet it did. Most surfaces were covered with something—a book, a piece of art, a candle, some dried flowers. You had never seen a place quite like this before. It screamed Hyunjin—the look of it, the scent of it, too. It smelled like him mixed with the scent of a lived-in place, too. 
Wooyoung led Chan and Jisung away toward the rest of the apartment, but you stayed by the door for a few instants, watching as people appeared in and out of doors farther down the hallway. Part of you wanted to turn back and go home. You listened to the conversations, the voices. Changbin was already here by the sound of it, laughing about something with Hyunjin and now joined by Jisung. 
“What do you mean you’re leaving? It’s your fucking party!” Jisung exclaimed. They were in the kitchen. 
You took a few steps, approaching slowly. The apartment was long rather than wide, strangely narrow, but there was space for everything. You couldn’t not notice the many cardboard boxes piled up in corners of the condo, apparently still unpacked. Maybe Hyunjin didn’t deem it necessary to unpack his things—maybe he didn’t intend on staying for very long.
“I need to go get things for Mr. Pickles! I didn’t have time and he—”
Hyunjin’s sentence was cut off when he came face to face with you as he was exiting the kitchen. It was a nice kitchen, rather large, with a small dining table in the same room. You recognized most people present—Hongjoong, So-yeon and Wooyoung were there but it seemed like both HJ and So-yeon were here with their significant others. So was Changbin—his girlfriend, Ha-ri, waved at you when she noticed you. You waved back, a little taken aback but mostly distracted by Hyunjin. 
He was still wearing his jeans but he had gotten out of his hoodie and had changed into a dark t-shirt with a print on it. It showed a sunset over a city, with a storm and lightning on one side. The shirt suited him, hugging his shoulders nicely but loose around the body. Your eyes traveled to his inked arms, recognizing many tattoos and also noticing designs that hadn’t been there before. 
“Tipsy!” Hyunjin’s smile was bright enough that it almost made you flinch. “You’re here.” His smile didn’t waver but he stood a little awkwardly in the door frame between the kitchen and the hallway. 
“Hey.” You tried to smile back but it seemed like you were frozen, glancing alternatively at Hyunjin’s face, his dazzling smile, his toned, tattooed arms. His eyes were big, the same deep brown they had always been. As silky as a cup of espresso. “I love your condo, it’s nice. Very you.” What a stupid fucking thing to say, but it was hard to think of the right words over the deafening sound of your heartbeat. 
Hyunjin chuckled. “Thanks, I’m not even done unpacking though…” He leaned against the small section of the wall in between the kitchen and what seemed to be the bathroom. “I ended up buying way too many art supplies while I was in France and I have no idea how to store all of them.” 
“You could buy some shelves,” you suggested, looking around. There was an opening in the hallway for a small sitting room with a round window high up on the wall—otherwise, the space was mostly empty. “It’d be great over there, don’t you think?” 
“That’s a good idea. Maybe I’ll do some shopping this weekend. I’m actually headed out right now, I need to get stuff for Mr. Pickles…” He hesitated, glancing behind him at the guests around the table and then back at you. “He’s sleeping in my room now, but I need to get him actual cat food, and, uh… other stuff… right?” 
You squinted, tilting your head. “You’ve never had a cat, haven’t you? Do you even know what you need to buy?” You couldn’t suppress the smile that appeared on your face. 
“I have no fucking clue, do you mind coming with me?” Hyunjin said with a relieved sigh but he was still smiling. He seemed happier than he had been before, and it looked good on him. “No one here has a cat.” 
Your heart jumped in your chest at the idea of being alone—really alone—with Hyunjin for the first time in over two years. You tried calming down but it was no use. You would need to get accustomed to having a small storm within you, apparently. For so long, the skies of your heart had been calm. Too calm. Neither bright nor dark, perhaps like a baby blue sky with a thin veil of clouds covering it. An in-between. And then Hyunjin came back, bringing with him hurricanes of color and warm rays of sunshine.
“Of course,” you agreed, trying not to sound too eager. You looked down at your own hands, still firmly holding the black hoodie.
Hyunjin followed your gaze. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the bundle of fabric. “Do you need to put this somewhere for later?”
“No, Fairytale. This is yours.” You handed it over. “It’s that hoodie I forgot to return before you left.” 
Hyunjin stared at the hoodie but made no move to take it from you. Behind him, in the kitchen, Jisung was telling a lively story about his and Sun-young’s cake testing that had turned into a small catastrophe. You had heard that story before, but it seemed funnier now that it was punctuated by Changbin’s comments and Wooyoung’s questions. Still, you easily tuned it out, focusing on Hyunjin, warmth spreading at the back of your neck. 
Finally, after what may have been an hour, Hyunjin reached for the shirt and took it in his hand, feeling the fabric of it first, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he held it with two hands for a few seconds before staring into your eyes again. “You could have kept it,” he said a little flatly, tugging at your heart. “Thank you.” 
You nodded. “I wore it a little, it might not be… in perfect condition,” you chose to say. “But it’s clean.” 
Hyunjin nodded too. “Well, let me put this away then, and we can get going.”
“Yeah, better come back soon or else we’ll drink all of your liquor, Hwang!” Changbin urged with a loud laugh, but then he quickly returned to Jisung’s story about the terrible cakes, especially after Ha-ri jokingly scolded him. 
You followed Hyunjin to the door of his room and stayed there without going in, but he made no effort to hide anything either, leaving the door open while he put the hoodie away and grabbed his wallet. 
The room had even more cardboard boxes than the entire apartment. It was relatively small and a window occupied an entire wall. The result was phenomenal lighting and a bright room—you weren’t surprised to see an easel in that corner, and although there was no canvas on it, there was some paint and brushes on the table nearby. 
The bed was messily made but you still noticed the kitten on it, creating a small indentation on the blue and gray bedding. Hyunjin had also left bowls of water and canned tuna for him, but they were obviously human-sized bowls, way too big for Mr. Pickles. 
“Are you gonna keep him?” you asked, motioning towards the small animal. 
When he heard you, Mr. Pickles seemed to wake up. He let out a small meow and got up to go to you or maybe leave the room—in any case, you caught him before he could escape and brought him back toward the bed after closing the door behind you, ignoring the fact that you were now inside Hyunjin’s bedroom. 
He closed the door of his closet after leaving the hoodie in there. “I don’t know. I really never had a cat, but I couldn’t just leave him there, you know?”
“I understand.” You let go of the kitten and he jumped effortlessly on the bed, now playing with the comforter. You watched him for a few seconds, painfully aware that Hyunjin was staring at you. “Weird to think that it would have been easier for you to rescue a frog than a kitten, don’t you think?” 
You looked up when Hyunjin burst into laughter. You laughed too, and the slight tension in the room dissipated almost instantly. He still had his silly, dorky laugh, the one that you had always thought was so endearing. He laughed for longer than you, ending up sitting on the small stool near the window. You crossed the room, looking at the view behind him. 
His building seemed to be one of many residential buildings surrounding a small park. There was a fountain, benches and tables and even a couple of swing sets. A few people were lazily strolling on the paved path, enjoying the last moments before the sun went down. It was a beautiful day, and you wished your heart wasn’t heavy. You wished that Hyunjin’s return brought nothing but wonder and respite, but it turned out it also brought questions and doubts. 
You took a long look around the room, trying to find an answer to one of those questions—or maybe the one question that weighed the most on your mind. Most of the cardboard boxes were closed except for one and it contained small tubes of paint as well as a few pouches that must have had brushes in them. He had left the door of the closet cracked open—it was rather small, but despite that it wasn’t full, but from here you couldn’t tell whether all the clothes were his or not. 
There weren’t too many decorations in the room, not as many as in the rest of the apartment. Just a few candles and a couple of decorative bowls with keys or other random knick-knacks in them. A poster for a French movie and a medium-sized framed photograph of Paris at night. 
Nothing in the room made you believe that Hyunjin lived with someone else, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that some of these drawers might be empty, perhaps waiting to be filled with somebody’s belongings. 
“I’ve never been able to see frogs the same,” Hyunjin admitted once silence had filled the room once again. “Whether it’s a cute print on a shirt, a toy, or an actual frog near a pond.” He stopped for a few seconds, the rest of his sentence lingering in the room. “I always think of Chives. And of you.” 
Your heart sunk in your chest a little, but only to soar higher than ever. The urge to sit down overtook you—you were almost dizzy, but maybe it was because of the stuffiness of the room, due to the large window facing the almost-sunset. Hyunjin left his stool to sit next to you, the both of you looking at the scenery below. The park, the city, the sky’s colors slowly morphing into something else. His scent enveloped you once again, somehow different than before and yet the same. 
He said nothing but he lifted his arm a little, putting it right into your field of view. It took you a few seconds to understand that he was showing you his tattoos—actually, one in particular. He even made it obvious by pointing it with his finger. 
It was a very detailed blue hydrangea, the blue of it deep, reminiscent of an ocean. The stem was elegant, with pretty leaves on it. The lines of the petals were beautiful, the shading surprisingly realistic. It looked more like the actual flowers had been melted into his skin rather than tattooed with ink. It sat in between the rose, which you were familiar with, and the umbrella, which you had seen before but it looked like Hyunjin had gotten some improvements done on it since last time. 
“When I got it done,” Hyunjin started, not even giving you time to react to it, “I brought the design and the tattoo artist really liked it. It was kind of early after I moved, and my French wasn’t very good… Anyway, we got it to work. After a while, he asked me if I knew the meaning of blue hydrangeas.”
You thought about it for a few seconds. “There’s a meaning to them?” The flowers had acquired a meaning for you personally after that night, the one night where everything had changed. 
“Apparently.” Hyunjin’s smile faded a little, but not by much. “They mean regret or something like that. So the guy was asking me if I got the tattoo because I had regrets.”
You gulped thickly, choosing to keep your gaze on the horizon instead of looking at Hyunjin. You weren’t sure you wanted to see the look on his face right now. His eyes had the habit of speaking more than his words. 
The sounds of laughter and conversation permeated the whole apartment, despite originating from the kitchen. It was a soothing presence. “Well. Did you?” 
“Yes and no.” Hyunjin let his arm fall back to the side of his body. “I told him they reminded me of someone important I had before I left.”
You nodded, strangely numb. “What did he say?”
“He said, sounds like regret to me.” Hyunjin shrugged. “He was right. For two years, Tipsy, I regretted. I regretted not calling, texting more. And then I regretted not texting at all.” He paused. “All this time, all I’ve wanted to do was to apologize.”
He got up, positioning himself in front of you. It took you a few seconds to gather enough courage to look up and watch him, but you found that his facial expression was sorrowful despite the corners of his mouth still curved into a soft smile. 
You frowned, also getting on your feet to observe him from up close. “Apologize for what? I didn’t text any more than you did, I—”
“I’m sorry I left,” Hyunjin blurted out. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit. And I really should have called. I should have called when I got here.” 
You felt a familiar burning in your eyes, just focusing on not letting any tears spill. You held his gaze, really letting the silk of his irises coat your soul, letting that embrace comfort you. There were many emotions dancing within you, but you couldn’t have access to just one of these emotions at a time—your feelings were spilling in and out of you like waves crashing on a shore. 
And yet, out of everything, your brain chose reason. “You had to go, Fairytale,” you said, forcing you to smile. “It was Paris! And look where you are now.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure where that is exactly, though.” Frowning, he reached for you and you jumped a little when his fingers caressed your cheek. A diffuse warmth spread in all of your body, settling somewhere in your gut. “I really should have called.”
Hyunjin sighed, his hand lingering on your face. His breath smelled like fruit juice. His skin was soft and warm. Familiar, but not like the distant memory it ought to have been—more like a presence that had followed you up until that point. His beauty was as striking as it had ever been, maybe more. 
“Hyunjin. You have nothing to apologize about. It would have been a waste not to go.” You took the hand he had on your face into yours, squeezing it gently. “You’re here now.” You bit your lip. “Are you staying? Are you leaving after the project?” 
He shook his head. “I—I wasn’t supposed to stay, but I’m staying. I decided at the last minute I guess.” 
The tone of his voice suggested there was more to this part of the story but you didn’t press him—if he wanted to tell you someday, he would. All that mattered is what he had said anyway. He was staying. He wouldn’t leave in a month or two. Presumably. This was a start, wasn’t it? 
But a start for what? What did you expect would even happen tonight, tomorrow, next week? 
You tried chasing those thoughts away—they were of no use right now, and as you felt Mr. Pickles settle on one of the bed’s pillows beside you, you were reminded of the task at hand. 
“I’m glad you’re back, Hyunjin. I really did miss you.” You made yourself smile, risking a look toward him. “But shouldn’t we head out and get this poor kitten some kibble? Do you even have a litter box for him?”
“I threw some sand I found outside into a small bin for now, but that won’t do, won’t it?” Hyunjin had a self-deprecating chuckle. “Let’s go before they indeed drink all of my booze.”
The building had indoor parking so you followed Hyunjin out to his car. “A rental,” he explained as he passed you to open the door for you. It was a normal car, maybe the most normal thing you had seen about Hyunjin so far—a black coupe, a little sporty, clean. “I mostly walk,” he added, almost as if he had read your thoughts. “Or I take the bus. The commute is really short from here to the museum.” 
“It’s a nice area,” you replied as he circled the car to get behind the wheel. “And a nice car. Comfortable.” You weren’t lying. The seats were nice and the interior was black and gray with a lot of technological components. 
“Yeah, I lucked out.” When Hyunjin started the car, it produced a satisfying sound and you felt the engine coming alive around you. “The condo was rented by a couple that Mr. Sang—that’s the art director who supervised my PhD—knew, and they moved away when they learned they were expecting a child. They needed extra space.”
You found yourself smiling when the car made it outside and the warm rays of the sunset hit the windows, caressing your skin. As Hyunjin was waiting for his turn to engage on the road, he turned on the radio, which seemed to play music directly from his phone. Soon, the car was filled with chill pop music. Not too loud, just enough to be a nice distraction from the long stretches of silence between Hyunjin and you. 
He cleared his throat. “I saw there was a large pet store a few blocks away.” His driving was smooth and precise, and he seemed relaxed. You realized that you were calmer than you had been back there in his bedroom. When you only offered a non-committal hum as a response, Hyunjin glanced at you for a second only before reporting his attention to the road. “Can I ask you something, Tipsy? Since we have so much to catch up, we better start now.” 
“Ask away,” you invited, suddenly curious. There wasn’t too much traffic, allowing the drive to be peaceful. You played nervously with the skirt of your sundress, wondering what this was all about. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Despite your eyes being glued to the road, you heard a faint smile in Hyunjin’s voice. “I just—I think I predicted something. That night, before I left. When I said you’d be with Bang Chan himself when I came back.” At this, your heart almost jumped out of your chest, but your mind became strangely empty. “Am I wrong, Tipsy?” 
Hyunjin stopped the car at a red light and you wondered if you ought to open the door and walk away instead of having this conversation, not unlike you dodging a very similar conversation with Chan just earlier. 
“Well you did come back to a wedding, just not mine,” you said with a joking tone, aware that you weren’t fooling him. You watched as cars crossed the intersection the other way. “But to answer your question, yes, you’re wrong. I’m not dating Chan.” You almost added, I’m not dating anybody, but figured it sounded a little too pathetic despite it being very real. “So does that mean you have a—what was it, already? A super hot French girlfriend?” 
The silence that followed was somehow heavier than the several months during which you had no contact with Hyunjin. A silence that said a lot and yet nothing at all at the same time. 
Hyunjin ignored your question entirely as the light turned green again and he drove forward. “Because it kind of seems like there is something between you and him.” He sighed. “Even Wooyoung asked me after the meeting.” 
Why do you want to know? “We’re not dating,” you repeated. “He’s my boss. And my friend, and my roommate.”
Hyunjin let out a small gasp. “You live with him? Like, for real? And you’re gonna tell me there was never anything between you two?”
“Yeah! At first it was us two and Jisung too,” you started. You panicked when you saw Hyunjin’s facial expression. “We all have our separate rooms! But Jisung moved out when it got serious with Sun-young.” 
You had made it to the pet store. At this time, the parking was almost empty—in fact, you’d have to hurry up because the store would close in about half an hour. You grabbed your bag and followed Hyunjin inside. You hated how light your heart was with him by your side. You also loved it. 
“Ah, I see,” Hyunjin said with a nod after you had entered the store. You grabbed a shopping cart and leaned against it while you rolled it down the first aisle, but this one was for dog supplies, so neither of you paid much attention to it. “Still. Chan was checking you out, just saying. You might wanna keep your bedroom locked at night. Or not, if that’s what you want.” 
You shoved him gently, turning onto the next aisle. “Shut the fuck up, Hwang.” There were no other clients in sight so you allowed the curse and the uncontrollable laughter that followed. “You just came back and you think you can accurately assess the situation on whether Bang Chan was checking me out during a meeting or not?”
“During the meeting, and after, and when you guys made it to my place,” Hyunjin listed, pretending to keep count on his fingers. “He was checking out your ass and your legs, to be more precise.” Hyunjin threw a glance at your legs and you were actually grateful for that—you felt a strong surge of warmth spread on your face. “Anyway. It’s none of my business, is it?” 
“It’s not like you didn’t pretend you didn’t hear my question about your hot girlfriend,” you retorted with the same sarcastic voice. “But that’s none of my business, is it?” 
Hyunjin looked away, now focused on the shelf on which there were food bowls for cats. When he reached out for one, you put your hand on his arm to stop him. “This one’s too big. He’s just a baby,” you pointed out. “Let’s get this one.” You grabbed a ceramic bowl of an appropriate size. It had little trees and little flowers painted on it. “And that one for his water.” The second bowl had peaches and peach blossoms on it. 
Hyunjin made no effort to comment this time around either, so you simply pushed the cart onto the next aisle where you stood in front of cat food, reading labels. 
“This one’s baby food,” Hyunjin said, pointing his finger at a bag. “He’s a baby.” 
You looked over at the one he had found. “I don’t know this brand. I’m looking for the brand I’ve seen at Minho’s place… I’m pretty sure he would only feed the best stuff to his cats.” 
Hyunjin exhaled inquisitively, raising an eyebrow. “Minho? Lee Minho? Does he work for Chan too?”
“Oh no, not at all, we stayed friends though. He has three cats.” You grabbed your phone to call Minho. You could try texting him but there was no straightforward text conversation with Minho. In general, he liked to spam people with meaningless texts before getting to the point. 
Thankfully, he picked up the call. “Hey, what’s up? You calling me at this time—let me guess—you wanna get hammered?” 
“Actually, no,” you replied with a laugh. “It’s a long story but I’ll make it short. Someone found a cat, and it’s really small. A kitten. We’re out trying to find food for him… I’m not sure what’s best.”
“Hm. How young do you think the kitten is? That’d make a pretty big difference.”
You turned to Hyunjin who was now looking at treats for kittens. For a second, you froze, suddenly very aware of how handsome he was. Farther down the store, two girls behind the cash register were staring at him, hands over their mouths, giggling. Not that you didn’t know that he was beautiful before, more like he was a kind of beautiful that could be witnessed from any angle and each angle brought a new emotion in you. Like he was a sculpture in a museum that deserved to be studied by scholars. 
You cleared your throat. “You have no idea how old Mr. Pickles is, do you?” you asked him. He didn’t seem to notice you were speaking to him because he kept on reading labels. “Hyunjin, how old is he?”
“Oh—uh—I don’t know,” he stammered. “About this big.” He showed an approximation of the kitten’s size with his hands. “I don’t really know cat age. I can send you a picture though!” 
Minho was chuckling while you watched Hyunjin get his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. “Hyunjin? You’re with a dude? You—” His voice trailed away for a second. “Hyunjin? Like, your guy? Frog guy?” 
You didn’t reply for a few seconds, just enough time to gather your thoughts and also transfer the picture to Minho—it was a picture that Hyunjin had obviously taken right after coming home, showing Mr. Pickles on his pillow. 
“Yeah, he’s back,” you chose to say as nonchalantly as you could. “He works at a museum and actually, they’re our clients right now, as of today. But that’s not the point. He found a cat and now we wanna feed the cat, Minho.”
“You’re with frog boy, I can’t fucking believe this. He found a cat.” Minho’s voice was full of disbelief. “We better catch up soon, I want to know everything. Get the same brand as I buy, it’s in a blue and green bag.” There was a pause. “Damn, that’s a small kitten. Better get some formula, too.”
“Formula? Like baby formula?”
“Yes, they make that for kittens that aren’t fully weaned. I’d also suggest a visit to a vet ASAP. Is frog boy keeping the cat?”
“Yeah, I think so.” You glanced behind your shoulder where Hyunjin had heard you and was carefully inspecting cans of kitten formula. “Thanks, Minho. I’ll call you this weekend.”
“You better. Say hi to frog boy for me!” Minho hung up before you could even say goodbye, and you put your phone back into your purse with a sigh, finally locating which brand Minho meant with the blue and green bag. 
“Minho says hi.” You put the kibble into the cart while Hyunjin was doing the same with a pack of kitten formula—the most expensive one on the shelf. 
“Oh,” Hyunjin said with a smile. “He used to call me frog boy most, if I recall correctly.” When he noticed your smile turning into a pout, Hyunjin giggled. “Don’t worry. Actually, he said it strangely lovingly.”
“I see what you mean.” You reprised your walk through the store, hurrying up now that all the aisles were empty and closing time was approaching dangerously. “He’s actually going through a rough patch—has been since Chae broke up with him.” 
“What happened?” Hyunjin inquired, grabbing random cat toys without really paying much attention to what they were. “That’s too bad.” 
You shrugged. “I don’t really know. Chae seems to think Minho got cold feet, but Minho says the same thing about Chae.” While Hyunjin was still chucking random toys into the cart, you went over to select a box and some litter sand. “It’s too bad.”
Hyunjin nodded slowly, putting himself in front of the cart so you couldn’t keep pushing it toward the register. “Was he busy tonight? Could he come over to hang out? Maybe that would distract him.” 
Something reminiscent of a sunrise grew in your chest, coating your heart with an amber luminescence as memories flooded your mind. Hyunjin keeping shared custody of a dog to help his elderly neighbor. Hyunjin helping you get your mind off things by handing you a live frog. Hyunjin moving back here to help a man who wanted to retire soon. Hyunjin taking care of you when you were drunk. Hyunjin giving, giving, giving. What happened to these people? To those who constantly burdened themselves with the worries of others?
“Thanks, Fairytale. I’ll text him when we’re back in the car.” You looked somewhere behind Hyunjin. “I think these girls want us to pay for our purchases so they can close the store.” 
“Oh! Of course!” Hyunjin apologized profusely as he approached the employees and you both put the items on the counter so they could ring them. He explained that he had found a kitten and needed last minute supplies for him. 
Was he oblivious to the fact that these girls cared very little about Mr. Pickles’ backstory and were a lot more focused on Hyunjin’s good looks, his tattoos, his cool hair? If he noticed, he didn’t let it show.
The sun was setting outside and a soft breeze caressed your legs as you helped Hyunjin put the bags into the trunk of the car. “Were the summers good in Paris?”
“Honestly? Not so much,” Hyunjin chuckled and started the car after you had put your seatbelt on. “It’s just really humid and there isn’t a lot of shade. Also, people don’t really have air conditioning, so I just thought I would die.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh with him. “I really did miss you, you know.” 
“I missed you too, Tipsy. Thanks for coming along.”
You nodded, sparing yourself of having to utter a response. Instead, you texted Minho, relaying Hyunjin’s invitation to him. Minho thought you were joking at first, but when you insisted, you could sense some sort of warmth in his following texts, despite him politely declining the invitation. Another time, maybe. I’m tired. Big week at work. Say thanks for me, please.
Hyunjin seemed deeply sorry to know Minho couldn’t make it, but for the rest of the car ride, he chose to ask you questions about your job. You found that he didn’t deflect your questions too much if they were about his career, too. He seemed particularly interested in your approach to your designs, and the more you talked with him, the better you felt. Slowly, the rift that had been created between the two of you by time closed in and you could barely feel it anymore. Truly, it was as if he had never left. 
You helped Hyunjin carry all the cat supplies to his apartment, although it took a little longer than it should have because Hyunjin had to mute two incoming calls on the way up. “Just work stuff, I’ll get to that later,” he said dismissively once you had reached the door to his place. 
The ambiance in there was slightly more charged than it had been earlier—there was music playing and the guests were scattered around the apartment in small groups, drink in hand, talking excitedly. Although you couldn’t see everything from the entrance door, you felt a strange sense of comfort seeing all these people together, and hearing their laughter. 
Hyunjin had already taken his shoes off and was looking in one of the bags. “I think I’ll wash all the bowls first and then put the food in it. Right?” 
“You’re a cat dad genius,” you retorted with a laugh. “All that frog experience is really paying off, don’t you think? Maybe you should give up the whole art career thing and just start a zoo or something.” But really, you remembered his old neighbor’s dog, too—Chris the samoyed, the big fluffy angel with a never ending appetite. You weren’t sure you ought to ask about him yet, so you left it there.
Hyunjin shot you a falsely annoyed glance, but his face was illuminated with a smile. “Sure thing, Tipsy. Good one.” He giggled and walked away, immediately swallowed by Hongjoong and Jisung who were in a deep debate about the best type of coffee beans. 
You went to check on Mr. Pickles in Hyunjin’s room, also offering him a few of his new toys at the same time. It didn’t take very long until he had a favorite—a little catnip butterfly. In fact, he entered a ferocious war with it, pawing it away in and down the bed, chasing it playfully. You took time to take a few more pictures for Minho, and joined the others.
Hyunjin was in the kitchen with Jisung, Hongjoong, his girlfriend and Chan. Hyunjin was at the sink, carefully washing everything that needed to be washed, while Jisung was helping him by drying the dishes. 
You sat at the table with the others, wasting no time pulling toward you one of the wine glasses that had been set next to a bucket of ice containing three bottles and pouring yourself a generous glass of sauvignon blanc. It was hard not to notice the not-so-subtle glances that Chan was giving you, but he was talking with Hongjoong so you chose to speak with his girlfriend who was complimenting you on your dress and asking if it had pockets. Of course it had pockets, and so did hers, and you talked for a little while about your favorite places to shop for summer clothes. In that very short conversation, she also asked you about your job and if it was exhausting to work with all these guys.
Jisung responded for you. “Of course not. We’re all super chill,” he said, failing spectacularly at keeping a straight face. 
You almost choked on your wine. “Yeah, yeah, that office is very calm all the time—zen gardens, flute and harp music, a massage salon. Nobody and I say nobody ever yells in the confines of this office. Monks envy me, really. I am surrounded by nothing but peace.”
At this, the whole room burst into laughter loud enough to alert the other guests in the rest of the apartment, and they came to inquire about what was so funny. Soon enough, the joke had been extrapolated to perhaps thinking about converting the business into a prayer temple. At that point, Hyunjin had left the room to go give the kitten his food and water, and guests were discussing about ordering some food. 
You looked around, at the friendly group of people, at the view from the kitchen window. It was dusk by now, with only a sliver of light at the horizon. You noticed the door here led to a small balcony and, after giving your food order, snuck outside with a fresh glass of wine. 
The air was cooler than earlier but not by much. You watched down below, at the park in the center of the apartment buildings. A few children were laughing and running around, probably brought out there by their parents to let them exhaust the last of their energy so they would perhaps accept to go to bed soon. The wine was cool and crisp, and you were trying to be happy.
You were happy. Right? Wasn’t today supposed to be a celebration of sorts? Hadn’t you waited two whole years for today to happen, specifically? Hadn’t you wished for Hyunjin’s return?
Yes, of course, you had—a lot. At first, his absence had been like a part of your soul had been ripped apart. Not that you had been given a lot of time with him, but you knew that if he had stayed, something would have come out of it. Something beautiful, and meaningful. 
But you did know that you ought to be happy about him coming back, so why was your heart so heavy? 
From here, you could not only see into Hyunjin’s kitchen but part of the hallway, too, and one tiny corner of his room. The light was on there and you even saw Mr. Pickles walking along the window, no doubt to go feast on his new food. The light was dimmed and, soon later, Hyunjin returned to the kitchen, immediately pulled to the side by Jisung and Hongjoong, and the three of them started talking about something on Jisung’s phone. You watched as Hyunjin glanced around the room as if he were looking for something. 
You observed him. His smile, the way his hair elegantly fell to the side of his face and he often had to brush it away, exposing his sharp jawbone, his beautiful traits. To you, it seemed like he had changed a lot and so little at once. You found yourself wishing that it was just him and you here, and nobody else. You found yourself wishing you hadn’t come at all. 
You jumped when the door was pushed opened and Chan appeared on the balcony. He clicked the door closed behind him using his shoulder. He was holding a beer. “Hey,” he said. “Was wondering where you went.” He took a few steps toward you, leaning onto the high railing much like you did. He, too, watched the people in the park. “I really think we should talk.”
You cleared your throat, choosing to swallow some wine before replying to him. “I don’t know what to say, Chan.” 
He seemed concerned. Despite everything—above everything, too, Chan was your friend, and you didn’t like to see him like that. “Should I leave then?”
Your heart leaped in your chest and you clutched at that wine glass like your life depended on it. “No, of course not,” You did look into Chan’s eyes then. He was frowning, and you knew he was right anyway. “I just… I know we have to talk.”
He bit his lower lip, hesitating before reaching for you and softly caressing your cheek for just two or three seconds. “I really did fuck up that night, the party at my place. I know it was a while ago but… When I… when I saw you leave with that guy, I just…” 
That guy. Your gaze suddenly flicked from Chan to the window behind him, showing the kitchen where the get-together was still going strong with So-yeon apparently pouring shots for every guest. But that was not what you were looking for. You found Hyunjin at the back, a shot glass in both hands, looking left and right, often staring at the hallway and where the bathroom door was located. He’s waiting for someone, a voice in your head said. What if it’s me? The hope in your heart, the one you had somehow managed to keep on a leash, seemed to be awakening. You wanted to blame the wine for this, but really, you knew you were doomed from the moment Hyunjin had pulled you into his embrace earlier. You could still feel it, him, his body, his arms around you.
Chan followed your gaze, looking through the window just like you were doing. You heard him sigh, just under his breath, barely any loud enough for you to hear over the sounds of parents gathering their kids back together to head back home. 
“Do you love him?” he asked, not hesitating. His voice was soft, though. “I’ll back off if you do.” 
You gulped thickly. Minho had asked you the same question sometime last year, out of concern for you: did you love him? And you hadn’t been able to say no. You just hadn’t been able to say yes either, because you didn’t understand love, and you weren’t sure what had happened with Hyunjin amounted to. Friendship? A special bond? 
Love?
“I don’t know, Chan.” Your voice was shaking a little bit.
“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage either.” Finally, Chan’s smile was back. It was a little faint, but it was there. “I’d just prefer know now rather than later.”
His eyes were almost playful, but you did see regret in them. You couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t stumbled that night, if you hadn’t run into Hyunjin in line for the bathroom. If he hadn’t had a frog in his pocket. 
“I—it was so hard when he left,” you admitted finally, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Chan, I don’t think I can… I don’t think that you and I…”
He interrupted you with a lot of grace. “It’s okay, I get it. Thank you for being honest with me.”
You nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’m sorry I’m so…”
“Don’t worry about it.” Chan’s smile was bittersweet. “What happened, happened.” Chan touched you again, pushing your hair out of your face. “Just be careful, please? We all hated seeing you become so sad after he left.” 
You nodded, trying to forget that sting that had remained with you since the day Hyunjin had left. Even now that he was back, the pain lingered. Like a scar, like an old injury that refused to heal. “Let’s go back inside,” you suggested, “before they wonder where we went.” 
Both you and Chan were eager to put an end to this embarrassing conversation so you followed him back inside. Your wine was empty by now but you managed to sneak your way through the guests to reach for the bottle… which was also empty.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got more.” Hyunjin had appeared, almost magically, to your right. He was still holding two shot glasses, both still full. “I thought you’d want to try So-yeon’s fancy tequila.” He handed you one of the glasses with an unreadable expression on his face. 
Whenever Hyunjin was around, it was as if all of the heavy, gloomy fog that burdened your heart just disappeared. There was something in his presence that appeased you immediately, no matter what. Even when he was the cause of your torment.
You just couldn’t help but smile. “Ah, more free booze!” You took the glass from him and, after clinking glasses, you both drank the contents. 
The tequila was flavorful and strong, sweet with agave and with notes of spice. It warmed up your mouth and seemed to shock your brain a little. 
“Oh, that’s a good one!” Hyunjin looked at the bottom of his empty glass as if he couldn’t believe it. “So-yeon, where’d you get that tequila at?”
So-yeon was a little farther, in the hallway, chatting with Changbin. She shrugged. “It was a gift. I brought it here so keep it if you want, I prefer vodka anyway.” 
Hyunjin did not waste a second—he grabbed the bottle from the counter and hid it in one of the cupboards, glancing at you playfully. “I’m keeping this, it’s too good,” he told you under his breath. “We’ll have some, you and I, sometime soon. Yeah?”
You had a good evening. Things were still awkward between Chan and you, but you managed to have conversations like normal people, especially when other guests were close. You spoke a lot with everybody, and a little with Hyunjin, too—as soon as the food arrived, he took it upon himself to give everybody plates and utensils and make sure everyone had what they needed. Jisung helped him out, so you let him, remembering that, after all, Jisung had known Hyunjin way before you did. 
Chan and Changbin left first with the excuse of having work to do—you knew it was true, but you also knew Chan just wanted to be as far away from you as he could and that Changbin and Ha-ri just wanted to watch a movie together, but it was fine. Hongjoong also left with his girlfriend, and So-yeon followed—soon enough, it was just you, Jisung, Wooyoung and Hyunjin in the living room. You talked a lot but you listened even more as Hyunjin told stories about France and Paris. 
“At first I barely got any rest,” Hyunjin said with a chuckle. “Every occasion I got, I went somewhere, all the tourist spots. Le Louvre, Notre-Dame de Paris, Eiffel Tower, Orsay, you know, all that stuff. After a while though, I would just go out and… observe. I’d just take a taxi, or a bus, or a train somewhere and spend a day there, talking to locals, trying new foods… that was the best part.” 
“Oh, I bet you mingled plenty with the locals,” Wooyoung retorted, nudging Hyunjin a little into the couch, playfully. “We know what you mean you barely got any rest! Those Paris girls, am I right?” 
You almost choked on your small sip of sweet port but managed to make it look like a normal cough. However, Jisung made no effort to conceal the concerned look he shot at you, and Hyunjin was now avoiding your gaze as though eye contact would kill him. Wooyoung, however, was understandably mostly oblivious to the sudden tension in the room and kept talking about French girls but also French food—apparently both of these things were very much worth eating. 
You swallowed the wine but it was no longer sweet, it just tasted bitter. You mumbled an excuse that you were going to the bathroom and quickly got up to escape the discomfort in the room—however, as you did so, you stood up so fast that you spilled a good portion of wine on your jacket. It was hard to be even more embarrassed than you already were, so you just went on your way, relieved to leave the living room as tears pricked your eyes. 
You pressed your back against the closed door of the bathroom, grateful for it, grateful for this safe space. The bathroom wasn’t large, but it had a clawfoot bathtub and a few plants on the windowsill. You took a deep breath, and another, trying to calm down. Trying to find some semblance of peace within you.
You—or anybody—would be dumb to believe that Hyunjin hadn’t dated some girls in Paris. The man was basically a fashion model. He was also an artist, and kind, and he smelled nice. He fucked really good. This, you knew very well. You often thought of him at night when your hand trailed between your legs. You thought of the weight of his body on yours, his full lips all over your body, on your pussy… 
You swallowed a strangled sob, which you blamed on being tired from work and from spilling port on your jacket. You tried your best to dry your eyes without messing with your mascara and stepped in front of the sink to assess the damage. Yeah, the denim of your jacket was pale, and there was a fuckton of expensive port on it… 
Anybody would have been dumb to believe that Hyunjin hadn’t dated while he was in Paris. For all you knew, he was still dating somebody to this day. However, it didn’t mean that you wanted to think about it. It didn’t mean it did not hurt you to imagine him walking hand in hand with a sexy French girl, perhaps eating macarons with her and fucking her hard in their cozy romantic Paris apartment. Did he like her when she spoke to him in French? Did it make him cum when she did so? 
You splashed some cool water over your reddened cheeks as a lame attempt to chill the fuck down. You were going to exit this bathroom and go back home. Normally, you and Ji were supposed to wait for a car together but you’d just leave this apartment right now and get on a bus and go home. You didn’t want to be there anymore.
The more you were around Hyunjin, the more it became obvious that his heart belonged elsewhere. How could you blame him? He had spent a lot more time in Paris than with you. You simply had been foolish enough to wait for him.
Not exactly deliberately, though. But still, you had been waiting for him, knowing full well you were basically waiting to be disappointed. The truth was that you couldn’t just go on a date with Chan, because you liked him. After a while, maybe you’d even love him. It would make one hell of a story too—college crushes falling in love years later. It could have happened, it would have happened.
But Chan wasn’t Hyunjin. So it wasn’t fair to Chan. The problem was—and it really was a major problem—that only Hyunjin would ever be Hyunjin. There would be no other like him, ever. Would you be waiting all of your life for something that would never come?
A knock on the door made you jump. You let out a soft gasp and turned toward the door, panicking, frantically drying the new tears that had appeared on your cheeks, making sure your mascara hadn’t stained your skin as if the door was actually see-through.
“It’s me.” It was Hyunjin and, at that realization, your heart raced in your chest. “Are you alright?” 
You stood, frozen in place as if you had forgotten words. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what your voice would sound like if you spoke—would it be too obvious that you had been crying? Out of the people still present in this apartment, he was the last one you wanted to be aware that you had cried. You didn’t want him to know.
You didn’t want him to know that you had been waiting for him all this time.
“Tipsy, I know you’re in there,” Hyunjin insisted, softening his voice. Tipsy. Despite everything, the nickname brought a faint smile to your face, warming up your insides. “Open the door, will you? I have a special product for wine stains. If you want.” He sounded like he was talking into the door, his mouth pressed against it, as if he only wanted to be heard by you. Like a secret. 
Realistically, you couldn’t stay in this bathroom forever, so you unlocked the door and let Hyunjin in. He seemed concerned, his bleached hair a little more messy than earlier. Still, he offered you a reassuring smile, not clicking the door behind him, but not letting it wide open either.
“Damn, that’s a bad stain,” Hyunjin pointed out with one glance at your jacket. “Still can’t hold your liquor. You really haven’t changed, Tipsy.”
You watched him open a cabinet under the sink and go through bottles until he found the wine stain removal spray. “And you really haven’t changed either, Fairytale. Always saving drunk girls from themselves.” 
“I’ve seen you drunker than this,” Hyunjin pointed out with a playful smile on his full lips. “Technically, I’m saving you from the sweet port that Changbin brought.”
You nodded with a gulp, the knot in your stomach slowly coming undone. Hyunjin’s presence worked almost as well as the IV of painkillers they’d given you when you had gotten your wisdom teeth pulled out. Immediate relief. He was the kill switch for whatever part of your brain was responsible for stress.
“You’re right. It’s actually Changbin’s fault specifically.” 
“I couldn’t have said it better!” Hyunjin proceeded to take a step toward you. “May I proceed?” he questioned, motioning at your jacket. “S’il vous plaît, mademoiselle.”
The French was overkill, and yet it sent a shock of electricity through your body. The consonants hit the top of Hyunjin’s mouth and his lips so delightfully that it made you blush, and you hadn’t been particularly sensitive to French before. He had an adorable accent, too, and a warm smile. Mademoiselle sounded so pretty in his mouth, but also like a dangerous promise. 
You gave him permission to proceed, so Hyunjin began to work. He slid a hand under your jacket, his fingers brushing your bare collarbone, and brought the bottle over the stain to spray the product over it. His hand was dangerously warm on your skin, almost as if he was feverish. And that fever was contagious, because a strange warmth engulfed you from head to toe. 
You studied his face from up close, the moles adorning his honey skin, the holes where his numerous piercings used to be. His hair falling over the side of his face like a curtain of the richest silk. You could smell him, too. His cologne, his boozy breath. Him.
“I should probably take the jacket off,” you offered, your voice shaking a little bit. Not that you didn’t like that closeness with him, but you were so warm that you thought you were about to burst into flames. 
“Ah, I guess that would work better,” Hyunjin admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle. 
He didn’t let you do it yourself—Hyunjin gently pulled on your jacket, removing it from your shoulders, then your arms. His hands on your skin left residual warmth and pressure. 
Did he do this to girls in Paris, too? Did he make a point of standing close to them until his beauty made them dizzy? Was Hyunjin fully unaware of his charisma? 
He cleared his throat before carefully laying your jacket on the counter. “I—I like your dress,” he said, obviously a little uneasy. 
You took a step back as your brain immediately told you that it was you who were making him tense. Had he maybe noticed you had cried? “Oh, thanks. It’s more of a comfort thing.” The fabric of the dress was very soft and breathable, for which you were very grateful for tonight in that tiny bathroom, barely a few feet away from the man who had once fucked you so good he had ruined anyone else for you. 
Hyunjin nodded in silence, spraying layers upon layers of this product with very little to no effect on the wine stain. He sighed. “That was a lot of port,” he pointed out. 
“Let me. It’s my mess after all.” You went to the sink and quickly read the instructions on the bottle before deciding to run some hot water on the jacket. Hyunjin stayed right there, by your side. You could feel his arm brush against you whenever you moved, and it made you shiver. 
“I’ll get you another jacket,” Hyunjin started, stopping halfway through his sentence. “Wait, don’t I also owe you a pair of boots?” 
You thought about it, laughing in the end. “I think you said that, but both times I ruined things because of my own clumsiness. Don’t worry about it.”
There was a pause during which you could only hear the water running from the tap and gently splattering on the porcelain in the sink. When you turned it off, you heard Jisung and Wooyoung’s voices coming from farther down the apartment, still near the living room.
“I owe you something else too,” Hyunjin started. His voice was low, strained. “Don’t you remember?” 
You did. You remembered a little too well the day you had gone with him to release Chives-the-cute-frog in a pond. You both had said so many things that day that you didn’t expect he would remember anything at all, not after having spent two wonderful years in Paris, so far away from you. Surely, he had many things on his mind other than this. Other than you.
And yet, before he left, Hyunjin still promised to take you on a date—and he remembered it.
As you went to say something though, footsteps came from the hallway and stopped right by the bathroom. There was a shy knock. “Hey, everything okay in here?” It was Jisung. “I—uh—I was gonna leave, and Wooyoung too, so we thought of sharing a cab… if you wanna come with?” 
You gulped, taking a deep breath. As you lifted your head to look away from the now submerged jacket, you caught Hyunjin’s reflection in the mirror. He was staring at you intensely as if he was awaiting your response more than Jisung was. 
“We’re okay,” you started, “I spilled some wine on my jacket.” 
Jisung timidly pushed the door open. He glanced at Hyunjin first, and then at you, obviously assessing the situation before continuing. “Oh, I see. I—uh—the night is a little cool I think, but you should be fine in the cab.” 
You turned to Jisung. The truth was you didn’t want to leave this place. You never wanted to leave this place, maybe, but that was a little exaggerated. You had been without Hyunjin for so long. You had been without Hyunjin a lot more than you had been with him, and you wanted to hear his voice again. You wanted to feel his arm brush on your side again. And again. And again. 
The truth was, also, that you had to leave this place. Because there were embers burning inside of you, and you knew that Hyunjin could either ignite or suffocate the fire. Somehow, you figured he could do both at once. 
Hyunjin spoke before you could. “You guys are leaving already?” It was almost midnight, but he acted as if it was early in the evening. “I was in the mood to watch a movie.”
“Wooyoung’s pretty wasted…” Jisung stared at Hyunjin with a slight squint, as if he was trying to decipher him. “His place is on his way to mine apparently, so I figured…”
Maybe you’d regret ever uttering it, but you did. Besides, you could be crazy, but it was almost as if Hyunjin had used an impromptu movie night as some sort of escape. As if he, too, needed an excuse to prolong the night. “You go with Wooyoung, I think I’ll stay here and watch a movie.”
Jisung stared at you, then at Hyunjin, then at you again. “You sure?” 
No, you weren’t sure. But you had missed Hyunjin more than you ever thought you could miss something. You had managed to keep it quiet—the yearning, the emptiness he had left behind. The hunger. It had been hard and your soul had paid one hell of a toll for it, but you had made yourself numb to it all. Most of the time anyway. But now that he was here, now that your body remembered what it was like to be embraced by him, now that his sweet voice had permeated your skin, the longing had taken over you. 
You just wanted to be with him a little longer. For as long as you could, really, before your hope shattered once again. Because it would, wouldn’t it? 
Because you couldn’t be the first—or the only—girl he called mademoiselle. What was the harm in pretending that you were, just for tonight? 
“I’m sure.” You gave Jisung a stiff nod. “You go ahead. I’ll head back home later.”
“It’s gonna be pretty late.” Jisung wasn’t the kind to insist. He usually was pretty easy going, and preferred to hide his concerns. “You’ll call a cab?”
“My couch is pretty comfortable,” Hyunjin interjected. “I won’t mind sleeping on it if she wants to go home tomorrow morning.” 
Jisung let out a sigh, shaking his head slowly, almost as if he was waving a white flag. Still, in his eyes, you saw a clear message: I warned you. He retreated, and you heard him inquire about the taxi to Wooyoung in the other room.
“I can take the couch,” you offered, turning around to face Hyunjin again. “What movie do you wanna watch?”
Hyunjin kept a stern look for about 0.02 seconds before breaking into a guilty smile. “I lied. I just… I just wanted to hang out with you. Wanna go to the park downstairs and get some fresh air?” 
You put your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound of your laughter—you didn’t want Jisung to think you were making fun of him or anything. You took a deep breath to calm down. “We do have a history with parks I guess.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think we’ll try to release Mr. Pickles in that one.” Hyunjin winked at you. “I should probably check on him. Want me to bring you that hoodie you returned to me today?” He shrugged with a look at your ruined jacket. 
“Sure, as ironic as it can be, I’ll take it.” You let Hyunjin leave the bathroom and locked the door after. Your heart was beating fast in your chest. After using the restroom, you took a lot of time to cool yourself down with cold water and to wring out your stupid jacket before leaving it to dry on the edge of the bathtub. There would be no removing that stain, it seemed.
When you returned to join the others, Hyunjin and Wooyoung were having a quiet conversation by the entrance while Jisung scrolled on his phone a little farther. Wooyoung seemed deeply amused—in fact, his cackling alarmed you enough that you frowned when he and Hyunjin stepped aside in the living room, disappearing momentarily. 
“Tell me you’ll be careful,” Jisung begged, lifting his gaze from his phone. “Please? If not, I’ll have Minho kick your ass, also Hyunjin’s ass.”
“You couldn’t have anyone kicking anybody’s ass, Ji. You’re too soft for that.” You nudged him playfully, causing him to laugh with you. “Say hi to your girl for me, will you?”
“Sure thing. Look—I’ll leave my phone off silent mode. Call me if you need. Deal?”
Truly, you were grateful for Jisung. “Deal.” You shot a furtive glance at the living room door, from which you were hearing quiet voices and whispers. “I really did miss him.”
“Yeah, I know.” Jisung was smiling now. “I think he missed you too. Oh, shit, car’s almost here.” He knocked gently at the wall separating the hallway from the living room. “Wooyoung, time to go.” 
Wooyoung reappeared instantly, followed by Hyunjin who was now avoiding your gaze again. Was he having regrets? Maybe you should leave with the guys, maybe—
“Alright, you guys have fun!” Wooyoung turned to you with a wink. “Watching the movie I mean!” 
“He’s so fucking wasted—I—” Jisung groaned, opening the door and letting Wooyoung out. “I’ll try to get him home safely in one piece. See you, guys.” And just like that, he left.
Just like that, you were alone with Hyunjin again. 
There were a few awkward seconds where both of you stood there, several feet away from each other, just staring at one another. It was Hyunjin who spoke first. “Mr. Pickles was sleeping—I think he went a little hard on the catnip. Still wanna go outside?” 
“I’d love to.” And you meant it, too—for some reason, you thought things would be less awkward if you weren’t in between four walls. Maybe. “Unless you actually want to watch a movie.”
“Not really. Let’s go outside. For old times’ sake.” 
Hyunjin gave you the hoodie you had just returned—it felt like going home when you wrapped it around yourself, when the soft fabric caressed your skin. For years, you had kept it close because it reminded you of Hyunjin. There were nights where you remembered him vividly. After a dream sometimes, or because you had seen something that reminded you of him that day. You usually cried a lot those nights, masturbated a lot, too, but you always ended up snuggling into that hoodie to sleep. 
For a while, it was the only way you could feel him again. Not really him, like a ghost copy of him, but still. 
The night was indeed cooler than you had expected, much cooler than it had been earlier out on the balcony, but you welcomed it, hoping it would conceal the nearly-constant flush on your face. Hyunjin was only in a t-shirt but he didn’t seem to mind—he had always been warm anyway. 
“The park made me really want to live here,” Hyunjin explained as you circled around the building to reach a little locked gate leading to the courtyard. After typing his code onto the keyboard to unlock it, Hyunjin opened the gate for you and let you in first. “Après vous, mademoiselle Tipsy.”
“You seem to be very knowledgeable about your French courtesies,” you said, but really it was just to distract yourself, once again, from Hyunjin’s accent. “Must have been pretty popular.”
“Actually, people in Paris specifically don’t give a single—and I really mean, not even one—flying fuck about courtesy or politeness.” Hyunjin chuckled, closing the gate behind him before you both began to walk on the narrow path. It was quiet in this part of the city, and you liked it. “No offense to them, though. You get used to it. We’re here.”
Indeed, you were—the path led to the back of Hyunjin’s building. Other buildings were sharing the same courtyard, which was empty at this hour of the night. It was dimly lit but you could clearly see a few trees, some swing sets, and several benches. The fountain was in the middle of it, the soft flapping sounds of water giving the place a relaxing vibe.
“I also didn’t really have a place to be outside at where I lived,” Hyunjin went on. He was walking toward one of the swing sets. “So that’s why I like it here.” 
You followed him in silence and watched as Hyunjin sat in one of the swings, wrapping his fingers around the chains. He pushed himself gently, swinging slowly in the night. The chains made a slight, barely audible squeaking sound. 
There was a frown on your face. “Were you happy? In Paris?” you questioned, genuinely concerned. “You… You said there was so much to do there, right? And you got to go to that really famous school, and—and—meet new people, too.”
For a few seconds, Hyunjin didn’t say anything. You gave him some metaphorical space and let him think that over while you took a seat on the swing next to him, afraid that the effects of the alcohol previously ingested would hit, making it harder for you to stand for a long time. 
“I wasn’t unhappy in Paris.” Hyunjin’s voice was quiet, barely any louder than the squeaking of the chains. “I just… I don’t think I was happy either.”
This hit something inside of you, deep, as if he had tugged at your heartstrings. You watched as he put his feet back on the ground, braking gently before turning to you. “What about you, Tipsy? Have you been happy?” 
If Hyunjin hadn’t magically returned into your life today, and if somebody else would have asked you that question, you might have answered yes. To avoid awkward follow-up questions, but also because, much like him, you hadn’t been truly unhappy. 
“Honestly, I don’t know.” But you wanted to say, no, I wasn’t really happy. You couldn’t, of course—because it was only by having him back that you understood what happiness could be. It was only because he was back that you knew you hadn’t known much of it while he was gone, and that was too heavy of a burden for him to bear. 
Hyunjin gave you a nod, leaning his head on the chain to rest it there. In this light, he looked a lot like the boy who had kissed you senseless in a park much like this one. The piercings may not be there anymore and his hair may be longer, but Hyunjin was still undeniably him. He was even more handsome, if that was even possible. You stared at him for a long time, taking in the details of him. The curve of his lips, his round nose, the way it looked when the breeze ran through his hair.
“How long did you and Chan date for?” he asked without any warning, and you almost fell from your swing. “I don’t believe you. What you said earlier. That there was nothing between you two. He didn’t seem okay after you guys talked on the balcony, and he left early.”
The gentle warmth on your cheeks had turned into dangerous heat. You felt it radiating from your skin and there was very little the soft breeze could do about it. 
“We never dated. Never went on a date,” you whispered slowly. “Why don't you believe me?” And why does it matter to you? you almost added, but stopped yourself at the last second. Instead, you said nothing. 
Hyunjin took his time, thinking it all over perhaps. “I don’t know. I believe you I guess, but I also don’t.” In the distance, the sound of sirens managed to fill the awkward silence filling the space between him and you. “Sorry. We don’t have to talk about this. I guess—I guess… I don’t want him to have hurt you in any sort of way.”
Hyunjin turned away then, looking at the small opening between the two buildings in front of you to watch the few cars stop at a red light. 
“He didn’t hurt me,” you assured. Maybe you were a little disappointed. Maybe some crazy part of your brain had been hoping Hyunjin just really, really wanted you to be single. And yet, despite it all, tonight really felt like being reunited with a close friend, and you had things weighing on your heart. “What about you, Fairytale? You’re avoiding all the questions everybody asks about girls. So, what’s her name? What happened?” 
You didn’t know what you expected then—that he wouldn’t be able to give you just one name, that he kept a small notebook with all the super sexy French girls he fucked while he was gone. You knew what your heart was hoping for though—that Hyunjin would say there had been nobody at all. But that was selfish, and wrong. Of course.
But somehow, what Hyunjin said next hurt you more than anything your silly heart had prepared for.
He sighed, wrapping his hand around the swing’s chain again. “Camille,” was all he said at first, and time froze. 
You froze, both very aware and numb at once, sinking into someplace dark. Sinking into the space in between the streetlights illuminating the courtyard. Sinking into the squeaking of the swing. 
“We broke up just before I left,” Hyunjin went on, finally making eye contact with you. He seemed tense. “She didn’t want to come with me. She didn’t want me to leave Paris either. I… I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t happy there and I wasn’t happy with her. She said that if I left, I’d be choosing my job over her. And now I’m here, so you can guess what happened.” 
You couldn’t move, couldn’t think—you wanted to get up and pace around the park, feel the grass underneath you, feel the muscles of your legs get to work. You wanted to walk, and walk, leave this place, and go back home. Not even home. You wanted to walk until your feet were sore, until your body hurt all over. 
You had it all wrong. Hyunjin wasn’t insisting about you and Chan because he was jealous, or because he was concerned—it was out of guilt. He, most likely, was realizing that you had indeed been waiting for him all this time while he had moved on. Of course he had moved on. Of course. Even a failed relationship was a relationship, after all.
“I’m sorry I asked,” you muttered, looking at your feet. “I’m sorry she didn’t come with you here, Hyunjin.” You frowned, remembering the conversation you had with him earlier. “But it’s just a temporary job, isn’t that what you said? Why choose to stay here if she’s back there? Why weren’t you happy with her? Don’t you miss her?”
Hyunjin shook his head, his blond hair swaying with him. “I don’t.” He sighed, a long, tired sigh. “She said she loved me, but I don’t think I loved her back. Not the right way, at least.” 
Hyunjin pushed himself up but didn’t go very far—he stood, leaning on the swing set’s structure, hands in his pockets. “When you know what love feels like, Tipsy, it means you also know when there’s an absence of it.”
You stayed there for a few seconds, processing the situation. Processing the feeling of the hoodie on your skin, processing Hyunjin’s words, too. He was right.
“So was there another girl before Camille?” you questioned, your voice so small it was actually a little embarrassing. “The girl that you loved, I mean.” You stood up too, unable to stay in place anymore. You joined Hyunjin on his side, leaning on the iron bar next to him. “I just—I can’t believe you weren’t happy in Paris. It was your dream.”
“I wasn’t unhappy in Paris,” Hyunjin reminded you. “You know, it was my dream, remember? Paris, and to be an art director. But while I was there—actually, just two months before I left—there was a professor at the university who was injured and they needed someone quickly to give art history lectures. So I went.” 
You felt a little more comfortable now that the topic was shifting away from Camille—she was very tangible to you at this moment, almost as if she stood right here in between Hyunjin and you. Tall, skinny, perfect. Did she smell sweet? Did he like to fuck her in the mornings, at night? Did he like to call her mademoiselle, too? Why did it feel like you had fallen into the end of the world and were struggling to get out of it?
“Woah, really?” You could very easily picture Hyunjin in a lecture hall, speaking relentlessly and passionately about art, about paintings, about colors and what they meant and didn’t mean. “Did you like it?”
“If I liked it?” Hyunjin scoffed and a smile returned to his face, like a sunrise over a lake. “God, Tipsy, I loved it. I loved it so much. I even got to grade papers, everything! I had my office, and students would request meetings with me to discuss their grades or their essays… I spent so much time in the library constructing my lectures and making them interesting…” 
There was one thing about Hyunjin—whenever he was passionate about something, it showed. As if he became transparent, showing the fire burning in his chest. But you knew him well enough to know what was on his mind. “So… is that something that you regret? Would you rather be a professor instead of an art director, Fairytale?” 
Hyunjin turned to you, his head tilted to the side, studying you not unlike if you were a painting. “But isn’t that fucked up? I could literally get a full-time art director job at a museum, which is something I’ve dreamed of most of my life, but now that I’ve tried something else, I just…” He sighed. 
“How is that fucked up? Isn’t that the best of both worlds?” you offered in an attempt to soothe him. “You’re living your dream job right now, and then, if you want, you can maybe… keep it part-time? Give a class or two if you’d like? Or become a professor full-time if that’s what you want. Just follow what your heart wants, Hyunjin. It’s all that matters. If you don’t give it what it wants, it’ll make you miserable.” 
There was a pause. Hyunjin hesitated before reaching for you. He took your hand in his. His skin was warm despite the cool air, and smooth, and sent a shock through your body. He pulled you toward him and you didn’t resist it—a moment later, you were nestled in the crook of his neck, his long arms wrapped around your body. “I missed you so fucking much, Tipsy.” He pulled you away just a few inches so that he could look into your eyes. “What about you? Do you know what your heart wants?”
It was almost as if your heart wanted to answer itself—it jumped in your chest as Hyunjin’s boozy breath caressed your face. He was close, so close. Close enough that you could see the light above you reflect in his eyes, and yourself too. Without hesitating, you said, “Yeah, I do know.” 
Hyunjin put a hand in your hair, running his long fingers into it, sending shivers through your entire body. The shivers traveled beneath your skin, running marathons, to settle between your legs where they transformed into an acute—yet delightful—pressure. You pushed your thighs together, almost like a knee-jerk reaction, but managed to swallow the embarrassing gasp that almost escaped you.  
“I tried to love Camille you know,” Hyunjin said, pulling you closer, so close that your body was flush with him. He was so warm, he was there, right there, his big eyes staring at you, his lips more inviting than ever. “I really did. But that’s not what love feels like. You’re not supposed to try. So tell me, Tipsy. Is there really nothing between you and Chan?”
You couldn’t look away from him, no matter how difficult this conversation was. “There was a one-night stand,” you finally revealed. “Last Christmas. It was bound to happen, but I—I don’t want anything with him.” You thought about it. “I think, if I dated him, I’d have to try to love him. Just like you said.” You may have been reluctant to admit it to yourself before, but Hyunjin was right—you had known love before and now you could recognize the absence of it.
Hyunjin nodded slowly, so slowly that he appeared to be moving in slow-motion. His gaze descended from your eyes to your lips, to his hand in your hair, back to your lips. “I know we need to catch up,” His voice was so low that you could barely hear him. “but I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the moment I saw you this afternoon. Can I?” 
You had known love before, unexpectedly. 
A lot of people talked about that—how some people felt like home. There were a lot of songs composed about it, poets loved to write about that, too. You had always found the metaphor to be moving but you had never understood it, not really, not until now. Not until your chosen home had left and returned. Not until you had experienced it Home wasn’t necessarily the place one had been raised in. Home wasn’t necessarily a house, or a town, or even a country.
No matter how long you left it, when you returned home it always felt the same, it never felt foreign, and you always belonged there.
Hyunjin could have been gone for fifty years and it wouldn’t have made a difference, not one bit.
You lay your wrists on his shoulders, tugging gently on his hair, his lips begging for yours and yours for his. Hyunjin took your face in his hands, as delicately as if he were holding a rare artifact. “Please kiss m—” 
But you didn’t even have a chance to finish your sentence, Hyunjin kissed the missing syllable out of you and swallowed it. He pressed his lips against yours and they were warm, soft, cushiony. Home. Kissing Hyunjin felt exactly the same as it had the last time you had done it, the same warmth spread through your body like wildfire. 
Hyunjin clung to you as if he were afraid of you slipping away from him, parting his lips open to take your mouth. It was a messy kiss, sloppy, wet. He groaned into your mouth and you moaned into his, his tongue grazing your lips, teasing yours incessantly. He cocked his head to the side, deepening the kiss, slowing it down, too—it becomes something less frantic, more sensual. Lewd, even. 
His mouth tasted like port, like salt, his mouth tasted good. You pressed your hands behind his neck, pressing him closer as if he could be any closer than this. He was as hungry as you are, his fingers curled in your hair, his wet mouth devouring yours. When he paused the kiss so that you both could get some air, you noticed his cheeks—flushed dark, pretty. He looked more handsome than ever, his lips glistening with your spit. e 
Did you look like that, too? Drunk on a kiss? 
Hyunjin kissed you again, switching sides with you until your back was pressed against the iron bar. He let go of your face, his hands trailing down your body to settle on your waist. “I missed this so much,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours. “You. Your mouth.” 
“I missed you too.” You let him kiss you again, but somewhere at the back of your head was a girl named Camille. You didn’t want to think of her. You only wanted to think about Hyunjin’s mouth and his warm body against yours, you only wanted to think about his strong scent, about the distracting warmth pooling between your legs. 
“Do you… want to go back upstairs?” Hyunjin questioned, biting his lip, his fingers caressing your lower back through your clothes. 
You giggled. You giggled like a virgin, burying your face into Hyunjin’s neck, blushing violently. “Yes,” you managed in your embarrassment. “Let’s go. We do have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Oh, we’ll be catching up alright, you’ll see.” Hyunjin took your hand in his and guided you back toward his building. Both of you were laughing like delinquent teenagers by now, unbothered, alone in the world. You didn’t want to think about anything else but this. You, and him, and how easy it was, how easy it had always been. 
The second you reached his apartment and the door was closed behind you, Hyunjin gently pinned you against it to take your lips again. It was quieter indoors and you basked in the feeling of it, the sounds of it, too. The sound of your mouths colliding, fusing into one, the lewd noises of him swallowing you and you him.
“I have one more question about Chan.” Hyunjin had a strange smile on his face, almost daring. “How was it? Fucking him I mean. Was it everything you had dreamed of while in college? Did you fulfill your college girl’s absolute wet dream?”
“Oh my god!” You shoved Hyunjin away, howling with laughter. “What the fuck!”
Hyunjin put a hand over his mouth, laughing with you and retreating as if he were expecting yet another physical retaliation. “What? It’s a legitimate question!” You took a few instants to calm down and breathe normally while Hyunjin opened a small metal box on a table and produced an already rolled joint and a lighter from it. “I quit the cigarettes, but not that. Want some?” 
“You quit smoking cigarettes in Paris? I feel like this should get you some sort of award.” 
“I know right? I mean, I quit that but I drink a whole lot more wine than I used to… win some, lose some,” he retorted with a wink.
You followed him to the living room where he cracked open a window after lighting up the joint. You both sat on the floor, right below the window, and smoked for a few instants, in silence. You unzipped the hoodie—whatever fire Hyunjin started earlier, it was still burning within you. 
“So are you gonna tell me or not?” Hyunjin said, blowing smoke to the side so as not to hit your face with it. 
“Are you seriously interested in Bang Chan’s dick game?” The weed was helping you relax and you found the situation very funny, yet you couldn’t deny the pressure between your legs. 
Hyunjin shrugged, his playful smile turning into a cocky grin. “Not really. Whatever happened, I’ll fuck you better than he ever did. I promise.”
Blood rushed to your face before the wildfire continued its course to your lower stomach. Hyunjin casually took the last drag from the joint before dropping it into an empty beer can that had stayed near the window. The light was dim, but you could see his face very well. Handsome. Enticing. 
Hyunjin kissed you again, but this time it was different. He pushed his tongue past your lips but not to tease you with it—he fucked your mouth with his tongue, bobbing his head, keeping you close. Already, his hands were traveling all over you, your waist, your legs, your neck. You could feel your panties getting wet and sticky already, you could feel yourself oozing from this kiss and these touches alone. 
His phone, discarded on the coffee table, rang a few times but neither of you paid it any mind.
You touched him too. For two years now all you had were the memories of him, and to feel him, the true him, under your fingertips was making you dizzy. You slid your hands under his t-shirt, feeling his toned abdomen, his smooth skin. He was still delightfully warm, reacting violently to every caress, flinching and biting your lip gently whenever you went places he was sensitive in. He moaned into your mouth when you pulled on the waistband of his pants. 
“Are you sure?” he asked, his mouth still on yours, his hands now making their way up your thighs. You shivered, a rush of warmth spreading between your legs. 
You smiled, taking a few seconds to recall the very first time you had sex with Hyunjin. And then the other time after that. You really hadn’t been allowed a lot of time with him, and yet he took up so much space within your heart. He haunted you. You tried to watch porn to distract you from him—you knew it was unhealthy to still think about him. To cum to him. But it was him who appeared in your mind when you were on the edge of your release, it was his cock that you remembered, the feeling of him on top of you. 
“I’m sure, Fairytale. Are you?” You retreated, letting the breeze from the open window cool you down a little, but it was no match for Hyunjin’s fingers twirling on your inner thighs, dangerously close to your core. 
While you had been still thinking about Hyunjin, he had been living his life in Paris. He had been with Camille, and his thoughts were as far away from you as they could be. And it hurt you. It hurt you and it humbled you even if you could still feel his scorching kisses on your lips, even if it was you on the floor of his living room tonight, your heart beating fast, panties soaked, covered in chills. 
You didn’t resent him. You couldn’t possibly resent him for falling in love and for having a dating life. You looked into his big dark eyes just to get lost in them. On purpose. Because nothing else mattered, not tonight. They all wanted you to be careful—they all had hated to see you suffer after Hyunjin had left, they said. 
But even if Hyunjin was to leave again tomorrow morning, you would still be with him tonight, on this floor, the taste of his weed lingering on your tongue. Because he was your fairy tale. 
He slid his tongue across his bottom lip. “So fucking sure, Tipsy. I even had to ask Wooyoung for a condom because I haven’t bought any since I moved back here…” A pretty pink color spread on Hyunjin’s face as he used his free hand to produce a condom from the pocket of his jeans. 
“Oh my god…” You giggled, burying your face into your hands, suddenly embarrassed, but not in a bad way. 
Hyunjin let your laughter die off. Soon enough, you could only hear the city noises through the window and your own breathing—uneven, eager. “Look at me, Tipsy. Please.” You lifted your head up, finding Hyunjin leaning closer, his sinful lips parted open. “I wanna see your face when I feel your pussy just now.” 
You couldn’t even process it—immediately, Hyunjin reached for you under your skirt, pressing his fingers flat on the fabric of your panties. You could feel your slick permeating the lace, coating his digits already. You gasped when he touched you, the contact of him with your intimacy sending a wave of pleasure through you. 
“That’s it.” He pushed his fingers a little harder against you, moving them up and down. You opened your legs almost involuntarily, seeking friction. Hyunjin was looking at you like he was studying you. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.” He nudged your knee, gently, forcing your legs to open wide. “Let me feel you, will you? I promise I’ll fuck you so good after, I just miss your pussy.” 
Hyunjin slid your soaked panties to the side, wasting no time caressing your folds. You heard it. You heard the wet noises, heard your wetness sticking to him, and it made it so much worse, and it made it so much better. 
“Oh fuck…” He had three fingers teasing you, tracing your pussylips, ghosting your clit, tickling at your entrance. “So wet already… Is that really for me?” 
You pressed your hand over his, urging him to touch you more, more, more. Your other hand made its way to his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. You kissed him hard, you kissed him for all the nights you had cum to the memory of him, whispering his name into your pillow, missing him as if you had been missing a part of your soul. 
Hyunjin kissed you back with the same urgency, moving from his seating position to rest on his knees, one of your legs in between his, leaving as little space as possible between your two bodies. You couldn’t even feel the breeze anymore. You could only feel him. 
“Touch me,” you begged into his mouth. But he was already touching you, caressing your pussy lovingly, his fingers dancing on you. “Hyunjin—I need you.” 
“Not as much as I need you, Tipsy.” His thumb found its way to your clit, swirling around it in slow, lazy circles. “Just a warning: I don’t think I’ll have enough of fucking you just one time. I’ll fuck you all night if you let me.” 
You kissed him, your hand in his long blond hair. It was silky soft, tickling your skin, and when you closed your hand in a fist to tug on it, it made Hyunjin moan. 
“Then what are you waiting for?” You leaned against the wall, watching Hyunjin watching you, rolling your hips weakly to rub yourself onto his hand. His eyes were glazed over, his lips coated with your spit, his honey skin flushed pink. What a beautiful sight. What a beautiful fucking sight. 
Nothing—absolutely nobody—could compare to him. 
Hyunjin brought his fingers back down, teasing your hole. “Just so you know, the walls are soundproof,” he declared with a shrug. 
“Oh?” you retorted with the same playful tone. “So that means I—” But you didn’t even finish your sentence—Hyunjin shoved not one but two of his fingers inside you, sliding them in easily from how fucking wet you were for him. You cried out, surprised, but the cry turned into a moan at the end when Hyunjin started moving inside you, twirling his fingers, rubbing them all over, working you open. 
“Moan for me. Let me hear you. God, I’ve missed you so fucking much.” Hyunjin rotated his wrist, bending his fingers to reach your most sensitive spot already, probing and caressing and tickling you. 
He had you under his spell. You were clenching already, squirming on the floor, fucking yourself onto his long fingers. And they were long. Hyunjin pushed the skirt of your dress all the way up, revealing you to him.
He hissed at the sight of your flushed cunt, fingering you harder. “Wish you could see what I see.” He pushed his fingers deeper into you in quick, relentless thrusts and the sound it produced was lewd. Wet. You were dripping on his hardwood floor. “God, you’re beautiful. Fuck yourself on me. Use me.”
Maybe he would leave tomorrow. Maybe he was thinking about Camille, even if he wasn’t sure of his feelings for her. But he was here. You were kissing him, his lips, and now his neck, sucking on his skin there to leave a mark. He was knuckles-deep into your throbbing pussy and you were staining his floor. He was there, he was real, and he was worth the pain it would cause you when he would leave again or fall in love in earnest some day. 
You let your arms fall, caressing him all the way down, his upper back, his waist, the tattoos on his arms and all the stories they said. You looked at the blue hydrangeas on his skin as you felt him through his jeans, finding him hard already. You palmed his bulge, causing him to hiss. 
“Fuck—” he managed, his voice strangled, halting his movements. You squeezed him harder, a blissful smile painting itself on your lips. You felt alive in this moment. “Let me take care of you first?” 
You ignored him, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, pulling them down a bit. He was wearing dark gray boxer briefs and they hugged his pretty waist so well that it made you throb. They hugged his erection even better, though. You rubbed him over the fabric, feeling his cock for real. Long, hot, hard, just like you remembered. You hummed, closing your eyes, head falling back. Maybe it was the port, or the weed, or the way he was teasing your g-spot—you felt excessively relaxed now. You trusted the moment. You trusted him. 
Hyunjin kissed you—a long, deep kiss. You moaned when he pulled his fingers out and squeezed his cock harder when he broke the kiss, too, but at least it was to lick your juices off his fingers. He throbbed under your palm when he tasted you, his eyelids fluttering as his tongue harvested your slick from his hand. 
“Thought I’d forgotten how you tasted,” he whispered, his face so close to yours that you could smell yourself on his breath. “Thought there was no way my pretty Tipsy tasted as good as I remembered she did. But fuck—you do. Taste yourself, baby.” He kissed you again, your flavor invading your mouth with the spit he released, coating your lips and mouth with it. You tasted so much better like that than when you licked your cum off whatever vibrator you used on any given night. You tasted so much better when your essence came from his mouth. 
“Hyunjin—” but you couldn’t even form a full sentence. Instead, you pulled his boxers down too, finally revealing his cock. That sight alone almost made you cum untouched. 
His pretty cock, flushed dark pink, and the faint veins adorning it. So big, so hard. His balls were tight, tight enough that they looked sore. You wrapped your hand around him, squeezing gently. Hyunjin’s breath hitched and you watched with wonder as a few drops of precum appeared on his slit.
You leaned over, bringing your mouth to the tip of his cock, and pressed your tongue flat on the head of it to harvest every drop of him that you could. You moved your head to accentuate your motions, lifting your gaze until you made eye contact with him. Hyunjin looked like he was struggling. His silky hair was falling over his face, and he was biting his lip so hard that it might make a little cut.
You wanted more, so you released a liberal amount of spit on the head of his cock and used your hand to lube him up, stroking him gently. “So big,” you commented, leaving small kisses all over his cock. “So pretty.” 
You felt Hyunjin’s hand in your hair, clinging to you as if he was holding on for dear life—but also pulling you closer to him. You opened wide and, never breaking eye contact, took him into your mouth. Inch by inch. There was no way you could ever fit all of him, but you wanted to take as much as you could. His cock tasted good. Salty, musky, even a little sweet. You locked your lips around his girth, squeezing him at the base, twirling your tongue over his tip. 
His legs almost gave out—he had to use the windowsill as an anchor, holding that, too. “Ah, Tipsy—fuck—fuck—oh fuck—” He was excessively sensitive, reacting to every flick of the tongue, every stroke, every dip of your head. You felt him coming alive under your tongue, throbbing, somehow becoming harder every passing moment. “Ah, ah, just—” 
He let out a grunt when you started sucking him in earnest, your spit and his precum leaking from the corners of your mouth, onto your chin, even lazily dripping onto your chest and staining your dress. Hyunjin couldn’t stop whimpering and it drove you crazy enough that you pressed your other hand between your legs, fingering yourself gently while you sucked him off. 
And then he gave the gentlest of thrusts. Inadvertently. You moaned on his cock, surprised by it but loving the way it felt when he forced himself deeper into your mouth. When he did it again, he went a little too far—you gagged on his cock, your mouth quickly filling with saliva, and Hyunjin quickly retreated. 
Your eyes were full of tears. You did not bother with wiping the spit from your face, you liked to feel it there. You liked the sting that lingered in your mouth from it having been too full for a few seconds. 
You gave Hyunjin’s cock a few kitten licks, playing with his balls gently. “Do you want to fuck my throat?” you asked, and the act of asking that in itself made you blush—but it also made you clench around your own fingers. 
Hyunjin lifted your face toward him, pushing your chin upward. “I will later,” he said, and you knew he meant to keep his promise. “I need your pussy first, baby.”
You made a point of spreading your legs even more so that he could see you touch yourself, fingers smearing your juices all over your sensitive cunt. “Should we go to your bed?” The floor wasn’t particularly comfortable after all, and you needed him as much as he needed you.
Hyunjin gulped, looking behind him at the door leading to the hallway. “We can’t. Mr. Pickles is in my room... he’s just a baby.” 
You pulled away, bursting into laughter. “Right, right. I forgot that about you.” You remembered Chives fondly. You pulled Hyunjin into a kiss and felt him seek the taste of his precum in your mouth, so you let him revel in it the same way you had. 
Instead, Hyunjin helped you up. He held you and you held him, both of you giggling when you noticed it wasn’t that easy to stand up in the state that you were. But you didn’t know if you were drunk on wine or on Hyunjin’s precum. You didn’t if you were high because of the weed or because Hyunjin was back in your life and it barely felt real. 
Except it was real. Hyunjin kissed you as he pulled the hoodie off you, as he slid your panties down. They fell at your ankles and you stepped out of them while he was taking his jeans and briefs off. He was insanely beautiful like this. His strong thighs, his long legs, lust written all over his face. You found beauty in yourself in that moment too, in the two of you, reunited and basking in the dim amber light of the room, facing one another with flushed faces and smiles and hearts beating fast. 
There were scary thoughts in your mind—thoughts like, you believed now that love was nothing like what they showed in the movies. Love didn’t have to be the same for everybody. Some people met a person at work, or at a bar, and they went on dates and fell in love. You had met someone and then he had left. You had met someone and he had changed you forever. But that was frightening. And exhilarating. 
Hyunjin guided you to the couch, helping you sit down comfortably, sliding a small pillow under your lower back. Instead of sitting with you, he kneeled again on the floor, facing you, taking place where you wanted him most— between your legs. 
He opened them again, baring you to him, but you didn’t even feel shy—especially not when you saw the expression on his face. He stared at your pussy with big, eyes, licking his lips in anticipation. He gave your knee a little peck, then moved up along your thigh, leaving wet, warm kisses on your skin. 
You watched him disappear there as Hyunjin lowered himself to your pussy. His breath tickled you there. You felt the vibration of his voice go through you when he spoke. “Your pussy really is so beautiful, Tipsy.” He used his fingers to open you up, eyes burning with lust. His movements were slow, purposeful, elegant. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long…” 
Immediately, without any warning, Hyunjin laid his tongue flat on your folds and gave you one big slurping lick, really sinking his face into your heat. You let out a moan, louder than you had expected, but that didn’t seem to bother Hyunjin at all. Hyunjin gave you more kisses—your pussylips, your hole, your mons, your clit. “So pretty,” he said, looking you in the eyes as he released spit onto your cunt and used his tongue to spread it. “God, you taste so fucking good.” 
Hyunjin focused on making out with your cunt again, opening his mouth wide open to lick and lap at you relentlessly, devouring you, building your pleasure. He returned to your clit often, licking you harder there, but never for long. 
“Please—” you cried out, rolling your hips to meet the movement of his tongue and head. When all you got as a response was a smirk and Hyunjin sliding his tongue into your tight cunt, you let out a cry, gasping in desperation. 
He tilted his head to the side to fuck you harder with his tongue. You sank into the couch, losing control rapidly, ripples of pleasure going through you every few seconds. The squelching sounds coming from the way Hyunjin was eating you out would have been enough to make you cum on the spot, but you wanted more. You wanted him, all of him. 
You got a hold of his hair and pulled him closer—Hyunjin moaned when he buried his face deeper into your cunt, his fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs as you rubbed yourself on him. Could you be this touch-starved? Could you be so desperate that you needed to cum right now? 
“More,” you managed in a sigh, in between moans. “Please. Please. Yes, yes!” 
Hyunjin flicked his tongue on your clit once, then twice, again and again. You were oozing all over his face, you could see your juices coating his lips and his cheeks. The smell of your pussy was filling the room the same as your voice was. Your whole body was coming alive. Even the friction of your bra and dress on your sensitive nipples was driving you crazy. 
You started letting go of him when he locked his plush lips around your clit, suckling onto it gently, suckling onto it and swallowing you as if you were his sustenance, stopping every few seconds to inhale your scent. The sight of it all was beyond erotic—this beautiful man and his inked arms and his messy hair and his pink lips, swollen and raw and wet, right there, between your legs. 
The pressure in your core was rising dangerously—maybe Hyunjin felt it, because he pushed his fingers into your hole again. “Taste so good,” he breathed onto your cunt. “Watch me, baby. Watch me feast on you.” He pumped his fingers in and out of you, returning to your clit, licking and lapping and twirling his tongue all over it, all over you. 
He was everywhere. You listened to him, to the sounds of him pleasuring you. You felt his warmth all over you as your pulse quickened. “I’m c—I’m cl—” But you couldn’t even talk. All that you could do was clench around Hyunjin’s fingers. All that you could do was cling to him, to the couch, as you were slowly ascending. Even the sound of your own moans turned you on. You hadn’t moaned like that in a long time, with your mouth wide open, not holding back.
You throbbed when Hyunjin sucked onto your clit again, harder this time. You waited for the moment he would slow down, or pause to catch his breath, but the moment never came. He sucked and sucked and teased you with the tip of his tongue as you rubbed yourself against him harder and harder. You were going to pass out, surely you were about to lose consciousness. You moaned, you cried out, the pressure becoming too much. 
As you were just seconds away from your orgasm, Hyunjin pulled away, also removing his fingers from your throbbing hole. You gasped, out of breath, still seemingly on the brink of cumming. He lazily licked your cream off his pretty lips and reached for the condom, which had remained on the floor not too far. 
“Sorry about that.” Hyunjin joined you on the couch, sitting right beside you, his cock flushed dark, leaking even more than earlier. “Need to feel you clench on my cock like that.” You watched him apply the condom carefully, hissing at how sensitive he was to that touch alone. “Don’t worry. I’ll want you to cum on my tongue later. Bet you'll taste even better after I fucked your tight cunt.” 
You were barely able to hold a thought, still trembling from your almost orgasm. As soon as Hyunjin was done with the condom, you pushed yourself on your knees, moving on top of him to straddle him. He kissed you then, and you kissed him back, letting him pull the straps from your dress—and bra—down, ultimately freeing your tits. 
He immediately cupped your breasts in his big hands. They were still wet from you, and you moaned when Hyunjin played with your sensitive nipples, rolling them between his fingers, even bending down to kiss and lick them. 
You reached for his cock, aligning him with your entrance. “Need you,” you whined, your face buried in the crook of his neck. 
“Use me, that’s it.” Hyunjin gave a few tentative thrusts, rubbing his cock against your hole. “Let me feel that cunt. Let me see your cream on it.” 
You guided him inside you, gasping when you pushed his tip inside you, but immediately hungry for more. You laid your hands flat on his chest to keep your balance, and you sank on his cock, letting it stretch you. 
Both you and Hyunjin cried out at that, your heat engulfing him, your walls clenching around him. He was big. His cock filled you so good. You kissed him. You kissed him hard, not wasting a second before rolling your hips to fuck yourself onto that pretty cock. When you know what love feels like, it means you also know when there’s an absence of it. And nothing was missing in this instant, no void left within you, your pussy stuffed with his cock and with the strong emotions taking up all the space in you, even the space between your atoms. 
“Oh my fucking g—” Hyunjin dug his fingers into your waist in an attempt to control your desperate pace. “I’m gonna fucking blow if you keep this up. How’s your pussy so fucking tight—” 
You slammed onto him again and again, chasing your high. It was messy, it was sloppy. You were soaking him, his cock, his thighs, his couch. You rode his cock to your heart’s content, feeling his straining length take up all the space inside you. Tits spilling out of your dress, bouncing with you as you bounced on him. It was lewd, it was beautiful.
“You take that cock like a perfect little slut,” Hyunjin uttered between grunts. His face was red, he was sweating. “So horny. Look at you, look at how swollen your pussy is.” 
You tried to get a glimpse of it, of his cock disappearing between your legs, but the sight of it sent you over the edge. You cried out, Hyunjin now using his grip on you to slam you onto him harder and harder, also fucking you from below. He was just as horny as you were, as desperate, biting his lip hard. You were so full of him, your pussy stretching for him, his cock massaging your walls every time you rolled your hips to ride him.
The skin on your entire body pricked when you felt the first waves of your orgasm threaten to overcome you. “Hyun—Hyunj—I’m—” You tried to speak, but it was impossible. 
Hyunjin, driven by lust, his cock throbbing into your tight pussy, brought his hand to the side of your neck to anchor himself better. “Cream on my cock, baby.” And then he squeezed your neck, just a little. It did not hurt, but it sparked something inside you.
Your eyes rolled at the back of your head and Hyunjin understood your silent agreement. Agreement, or plea, a little bit of both perhaps. He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing you to the exact same rhythm your pussy was throbbing and clenching. You gasped for air, embracing the light sting of it, losing yourself in the moment, in the feeling of his strong hand choking you. “Now, baby. Cum, please.” Hyunjin spread his other hand, reaching for you, gently rubbing circles on your clit, and your reaction was immediate. 
You arched onto him as you came, the tension between your legs coming undone with your orgasm. Hyunjin held you by your neck, fucking you deep from underneath. You would bruise there. You would bruise on your neck, too. You came hard, pulsing on his cock, convulsing on top of him as your orgasm took over your whole body. It was good, it was too good.
Hyunjin did not give you a break—you hadn’t come down from your high when he held you by the waist and pulled you off him, only to lay you on your back on his big couch and sink his big cock into your cunt again. You were still cumming, for fuck’s sake. You were still fucking cumming when Hyunjin slammed into you hard again. 
He groaned, his fucking becoming erratic, frantic, merciless. He was beautiful. He held your legs wide open, thrusting and rutting onto you like a madman. 
When Hyunjin came, he pushed himself deep into you, moaning so prettily it gave you an aftershock. He pulsed into you, filling the condom with shallow thrusts and desperate whimpers, kissing you, biting your neck, your collarbones, kissing your shoulders, holding your neck, still. There was mild pain there now, but your brain did not register it as pain. It felt good. It only felt good, like you were drowning in a pool of pure bliss. 
Hyunjin collapsed onto you, his hair sticking to the sweat on his face, his shirt damp with it, too. You wrapped your arms around him, letting the feeling of his cock softening inside you become a source of comfort, same as the rest of his body was for you. 
“I missed you,” he mumbled, his face buried in your neck. It felt a little sore there because of his firm grip on you earlier, but you found that you liked it. 
“I missed you too, Hyunjin.” You kissed the top of his head, and he propped himself up on one elbow. He had a soft smile on his beautiful face. “Are you really staying?” You needed to know. You needed to know in case you ought to prepare your heart for it again.
He nodded, giving you a gentle kiss on your lips. His mouth tasted strongly of you and sex, and you liked it. “Yes.” Another kiss. Then, he added: “I do owe you a date. I have serious competition after all—Bang Chan himself is courting you!”
You clicked your tongue and playfully shoved Hyunjin, laughing heartily. He pretended you had pushed him hard and exaggerated a fall from the couch onto the floor, causing the both of you to laugh even more. Maybe it was the dopamine from the sex, or the weed, but you truly felt at peace. And happy. 
“Can’t believe you throw me on the ground when I’m just trying to ask you out on a date…” Hyunjin jokingly reproached, shaking his head. He turned away while he was removing the condom and discarding it, but came back with a box of tissues to give you a quick but thorough clean up. “You’ve changed, Tipsy. You used to be so nice.”
“I did pepper spray two assholes to save your ass, Hwang,” you reminded him with a grin. “Don’t forget that.”
Hyunjin bit his lip, gathering your panties on the floor. He looked beautiful, his cock gently softening, his hair a complete mess. “Okay. I’ll give you that one. But to turn violent toward me? Your Disney prince?”
You stood too, taking your panties from him when he handed them to you. “So fucking dramatic.” But he laughed again, and he kissed you. The kiss deepened quickly, with Hyunjin’s hands traveling over your body and settling on your ass, pulling you close.
“I’ve made promises earlier and I intend on keeping them,” he said against your mouth. “I’ll make us a snack with juice and we can continue for another round. Or three, or ten.” Your heart swelled up at that promise, both from lust and something else, something frightening but exciting.
“Do you have more of those tasty crackers, with the cheese dip? It was so good.” You kissed Hyunjin’s cheek. “I think I’ll go hang out with Mr. Pickles a little.”
“Coming right up! Let me know if he needs something, too.” Hyunjin disappeared to the kitchen.
You made a quick stop to the bathroom before entering Hyunjin’s bedroom. Your pussy was sore and it felt good. You were tired too, but in an exciting way. In a way that was a reminder that you were alive. 
Hyunjin’s bed was cozy—when you noticed that Mr. Pickles was deeply asleep on it, you didn’t bother closing the door behind you. The kitten was curled into a ball in the middle of all the toys Hyunjin had bought for him today, looking adorable. You snapped another picture for Minho and sent it to him immediately, in case he was still awake. 
Not long after, you heard Hyunjin’s ringtone. Again. One glance at the fancy digital clock on his bedside table confirmed it was well past 1 AM. Whoever needed to talk to him at this time really needed to get a hold of him… or was in a whole different timezone. 
You gave Mr. Pickles a little kiss on his head and left the bedroom, choosing the close the door behind you this time. After all, the kitten was so tiny that it would be easy to lose him in this large apartment. 
“Hyunjin?” you called, making your way toward the living room. “Your phone’s ringing again.” It could be an emergency, in which case it was better to at least take the call before Hyunjin could make it to his phone. Noises were coming from the kitchen, but they stopped immediately.
The room was cool due to the window that had been left open. As you reached for the phone on the coffee table, Hyunjin was barging in, hurrying past you to make it to his device first. As you shot one glance at the screen, you understood why.
Incoming Call . . .   
Camille 
You froze in place, letting Hyunjin grab his phone. He turned away from you, walking out of the living room to take the call, but there was very little that you couldn’t hear. 
Suddenly, it felt as if the room was filled with not just a breeze, but a cold gust of wind. You shivered, exhaling sharply, finding it harder and harder to inhale. You located the black hoodie that had been your comfort for two years, left on the floor exactly where it had been when Hyunjin took it off you. Part of you wanted to wrap yourself in it right now and see if it would soothe you.
The pleasant soreness in your cunt turned into an unrelenting ache. The slight pang on your neck went from the delightful ghost of Hyunjin’s hand to the feeling of a vine leaving its poisonous trace. 
“Non, arrête—j’ai dit—écoute—will you please fucking listen to me? S’te plaît?” You heard Hyunjin clearly but you couldn’t understand every word he said. He spoke English, French and Korean, alternating from one language to the other. It was strange to hear this much French in his voice, and should the situation have been different, you surely would have found it very charming. 
But it wasn’t just the French, or the English, or the mix of all these languages together—it was the tone of his voice as he spoke to her. It screamed of familiarity. Of course. 
“Non, j’ai jamais… I didn’t say that and you know it. You fucking know that. I—quoi? T’es où? Here? What do you mean you’re here? Ici?”
You may not be a walking dictionary but you understood what you needed to understand. You walked to the window, glancing outside, down toward the sidewalk. There was someone, a woman, standing right in front of Hyunjin’s building and talking on the phone while looking upward as if she was looking for someone. The window was open and you could hear her voice. It was melodious and beautiful. She seemed tall and lean and well-dressed with long, wavy pale hair. Camille. 
There was a long silence on both ends. The silence infiltrated your brain, too. There were very few thoughts that seemed to linger in your mind, and they all amounted to the same thing anyway. 
You heard a sob coming from outside, and a sigh coming from Hyunjin, and footsteps. “I’ll be right back, okay, Tipsy?” Hyunjin told you, but he didn’t wait for a response and you didn’t even turn to him. “I’m coming down, stay there,” he said into the phone again. “T’es là? Mimi?” Hyunjin left the apartment. 
It was quiet, but Camille was still sobbing outside. It was quiet, but you could swear you heard the pieces of your heart as they shattered in your chest, the shards firmly planting themselves in your flesh from the inside out. Mimi. Not Cam, not even Cami, not mademoiselle. Mimi.
You watched as Hyunjin joined Camille on the sidewalk, but you had seen and heard enough. There were tears in your eyes and cries in your throat, but a stranger wouldn’t have guessed the turmoil within you as you appeared calm on the outside. You gathered your things—your shoes, your bag, your phone—and made your way to the kitchen, where you left by the balcony. As you went down the narrow staircase there, you felt a tear roll down your cheek, quickly followed by another. And another.
It was cold. You only had your crumpled dress on. You were trembling, you were a mess.
You were a fool, and had been since the beginning. 
You crossed the park, walking past the swing set where you and Hyunjin had sat just earlier. You were crying in earnest now, doing your best to swallow your sobs and shame alike. You remembered the code from the gate and managed to leave the park—when you made it to the sidewalk, you saw Hyunjin and Camille, still in front of the building entrance. You heard their voices and the languages and the intimacy in their voices. 
She had been with him more than you had. She knew him better than you did, and Hyunjin knew her more than he knew you. This was an undeniable truth. You had no claim over him.
So you walked away. Whatever would happen next, you didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want to go through the painful process of Hyunjin returning to his apartment and making excuses and saying she was here because of this or that reason. You didn’t want to see Camille from up close, and how pretty she was. You had made a mistake tonight when you had allowed those frightening feelings to take control of your mind. Of your heart.
You knew one thing: you couldn’t go back home, not tonight. Chan would be there, and he would know immediately. Hadn’t he known from the start? You didn't want to face him. Not now. You could call Jisung and crash on his couch, but he lived in a whole other area of the city, and you needed to talk to someone right now. 
You knew that Minho kept his texts on Silent at night, but he allowed calls from a few of his contacts to filter through, and you were one of those people. 
He answered, but it took him a few seconds to actually speak. When he did, Minho sounded sleepy—you had woken him up. “Hello?” A yawn. “What’s going on, are you okay?” 
It was your turn to speak. When you tried to talk, only cries came out, with tears rolling down your face. You walked in silence, finally taking a turn to a smaller street to make sure you wouldn’t be seen in this state. Someone might call the police on you. 
“What’s going on?” Minho insisted. “Where are you?” There was a pause. When Minho spoke again, his voice was softer. “You’re with him? You were with him. Did he hurt you?”
“N—no,” you managed through your sobs. “I was with… he… I just…” You tried to breathe, but it really was hard. “I don’t wanna go home.”
“Where are you now? I’ll come pick you up.” There was no hesitation. You heard some background noises on the call, as well as a few protesting meows. 
You could insist, you could call a cab, hell, you could even walk to Minho’s place from here, but you didn’t want to. You felt lonely. Abandoned. Alone. You were cold and sad and scared. So you shared your location with Minho, and he said he would be there in fifteen minutes. 
He picked you up twelve minutes later with a warm jacket and a cup of herbal tea. He did not ask questions, did not make comments about your appearance. You probably smelled like weed, like booze, like sex. Neither of you spoke until you had made it back to Minho’s apartment. He gave you a clean towel and some toiletries and you showered while he was fixing you some food. Just some veggies with cheese, but it was good. 
It was two in the morning when you sat on the couch. Minho had laid blankets and pillows for you there. 
“Can you stay with me?” you asked. “Just a little.” 
“I wasn’t going to leave you alone anyway,” Minho admitted. He was wearing comfortable sweat shorts and a t-shirt—almost the exact same clothes he had given you for your night. Your dress was already in the washing machine as he had insisted on washing it. When he went to sit to your left, a chubby orange cat swooped in to steal his spot at the last second. “Dammit, Soonie…” 
You scratched the cat’s head while Minho went to sit on the other side of you. You had stopped crying, but you felt empty. “Thanks, Min.” For everything, you meant to add, but you were afraid that if you talked too much, you’d start crying again.
“No worries. I set your phone to charge in the kitchen.” Somewhere in the apartment, you heard another one of Minho’s cats munching on his kibble. “He texted you. A lot. He called, too, left a voicemail.”
That tickle in your eyes… You tried to control your breathing. You sat in the dark, in silence. Slowly, the cries came back. Just quiet sobs, painful. Minho sighed—he wasn’t annoyed, not with you. You knew that. But he sighed and he pulled you against him. 
“I was stupid,” you said. “I didn’t think.”
“You’re not stupid.” As if he could sense your distress, Soonie leaned against you, resting his big head on your thigh while you cried in his dad’s arms. “Just cry if you need to cry, and then sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow morning.” 
Minho and others had asked you this before—if you were in love with Hyunjin. And you had never been sure how you should respond to this.
But now you knew. Tonight, if someone were to ask you, do you love him? you would not hesitate one second. 
There was only one reason why you were hurting so much, and that reason was the love you had for Hyunjin. 
... to be continued.
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a/n: long time no see for our frog boi! I went through some stuff as I was writing this chapter, which explains why it feels a little different than other updates and why it took so long to come out. That being said, I hope there were things you guys enjoyed in it. Thank you guys for the support, and for your patience regarding my posting schedule. I genuinely am so grateful. Thank you for keeping frog boi in your hearts. Take care!
permanent taglist: @cb97percent @changbinluvr @neosracha @hwan-g @staytheword @leedunno @aimeexx @hyunskizz @lotus-dly @thestarseeker @suhomylife @abiaswreck @ven-fic-recs @binstitsweat @hyunjinswifeee @straydhampir @fwess @skizzel-reblogs @katsukis1wife @chans1aptop @sunlitwilderness @erispancakes @skzfelixlove @hyunsungbased @revehosh @casualtaelyn @yourhwngness @hynjnskz @hyuneyeon @yourmercibeaucoupsblog @moasworld @neosfw @jollchacho @dreamingsmile @changbinheart @dwaekkiracha * please note that I will soon be making a post regarding my taglist/s.
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slut4sugu · 7 months
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐇 — RODIRICK HEFFLEY X FEM!BLACK READER
✰ including: intimidating but sweet reader, simp ass rodrick, mutual pining, rodrick suddenly not being as much as a usual ass to Greg (because you’re around lol) shy reader, golden retriever Rodrick fr, ✰ Summary: What it’s like crushing/ being crushed on by rodrick heffley ✰ authors note: Bro I js started thinking about how big of a crush I had on rodrick heffley sooo ima do sum random hcs for him <3
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def stares at you for a good 3 minutes the first time he saw you. Your whole dark streetwear/cyberpunk/y2k aesthetic was really doing it for him
though trust and believe he was gonna act like he didn’t know his left from his right when he was talking to you, your sweet smile didn’t help much either since it made his heart race like 80mph
once he notices how friendly and sweet you are he loosens up a bit
Introduces you to what music he listens to, and almost falls for you when he sees how much you like it.
Def would be into: girls with doe eyes/ droopy eyes, girls who smell like candy, girls who wear silver rings, sleepy heads, short girls, ‘mommy’ type girls, girls who wear band tees/ graphic tees/baggy clothes
When you first came over to his house to work on a project together his parents and brother were surprised to see he brought such a pretty girl home, though at first they all thought you were apart of his band.
Rodrick saw the hearts starting to form in Greg’s eyes when he saw your smile but he shut his brother down real quick. Flipping him off when your back was turned
He hardly got any work done because all he could focus on was your pretty voice and your probably soft hands, you noticed his gaze on you but didn’t say anything as you smiled to yourself before asking if he understood anything/ if he needed help.
You let out a fit of giggles before saying, “Rodrick you don’t have to act or anything around me yknow, just be yourself.”
You thought it was almost cute how hard he tried to be cool when you asked about things he liked/ did in his spare time/etc.
One time Rodrick had left you in his room to go deal with greg ‘messing with his stuff.’ leaving his phone behind, which had lit up with a text from one of his band members “still talking to that angel you were blabbering about earlier?’ (You never mentioned this to him and pretended you didn’t see the text, though it was hard to not smile so wide and tackle Rodrick into a bear hug when he came back.)
Definitely makes notes of things you like, don’t like, what makes you annoyed, things like that.
Always tries to be the first person to compliment you hair & like your story on insta
The way rodrick’s personally switches up when he sees you is almost cartoonish, he’ll be cursing his brother out one minute before following you around like a lost puppy and asking if you need anything the next.
Damn near blushes every time you initiate any type of physical contact with him and you think it’s the cutest thing, sometimes you tease him by getting close or resting your head on his shoulder when you feel even the little bit tired. (Though you know good n well that your heart is racing too.)
Accidentally tells you that he likes you from a butt dial ( rodrick froze when he heard your sweet voice say that you felt the same.)
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bradshawssugarbaby · 6 months
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I Can See You (Aaron Hotchner x Reader)
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pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem! reader
song prompt: I Can See You (From the Vault) - Taylor Swift
warnings/content: mutual pining, Hotch being a gentleman, making out.
word count: 1571
And I could see you up against the wall with me, and what would you do, baby, if you only knew? Oh, oh, oh, that I could see you throw your jacket on the floor, I could see you make me want you even more
You sipped your drink as your eyes scanned the room for a familiar face. You dreaded social events, especially ones where you hardly knew anyone by name, let alone anyone you knew comfortably enough to talk to at length. These work galas were nothing short of awkward and you were thankful they only happened a handful of times a year, but even that was too often. You specifically took up an admin position with the FBI to avoid the social interactions with others regularly - you just weren’t a *people* person. As you continued to sip your cocktail, praying for the fire alarm to ring through the hotel ballroom as the perfect escape for you, you heard a deep voice say your name. You spun around on your heel to see Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief for the Behavioural Analysis Unit standing before you, a warm, friendly smile on his face.
“Hey, fancy seeing you here!” You grinned, trying to mask the social anxiety you were feeling, especially when faced with a man you had feelings for. 
Aaron laughed softly, holding his whiskey glass firmly in his large hand. His fingers wrapped around the glass, making it look as though it was meant for a doll rather than an average sized high-ball glass. He rarely smiled, let alone laughed, so the fact that you were able to accomplish even the slightest snicker out of him was a feat to be admired.
“I don’t normally come to these things,” he nodded his head, “I was told I had to attend this one though for some reason.”
Aaron’s dark brown eyes watched the others as they mingled, creating small talk with colleagues and avoiding the dance floor like the plague. He shook his head, laughing. 
“Why did they think a group of FBI agents would want to dance?” He said discreetly to you.
You laughed at his comment and shrugged your shoulders, “You know, I was wondering the same thing.”
Aaron turned towards you, a warm smile on his lips. You were used to the odd friendly glance from him in passing, but a genuine smile was rare. You couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lit up when he smiled, his whole face appearing completely different from the normally reserved, stoic man everyone knew him as. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of golden brown you’d ever seen, with honey and hazel coloured flecks in the irises. His dark hair had the faintest hint of gray to it, which made him even more attractive, if that was possible. He wore his hair cropped fairly short, with his bangs gelled up slightly, the way he always wore it. In fact, he didn’t really dress any differently from how he usually did at work with his suit and tie, except instead of his usual red or blue tie, he opted for classic black, with a black suit and pure white pressed dress shirt underneath. Aaron was at least 25 years older than you, but that didn’t change anything about the crush you’d developed on him over the past year. If anything, his maturity made him *more* attractive to you. 
“I could use some air,” you nodded, a soft smile forming on your face as you spoke to Aaron.
“Mind if I join you? I could use some fresh air too.”
You nodded your head and followed behind Aaron as you walked outside into the cool October air. The two of you walked further down the pathway into a garden area, further away from the party that was taking place inside. You could feel a shiver down your spine as you walked, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the sheer nervousness from being alone with Aaron. You bit your lip as you looked up, admiring the stars and the peacefulness of being outside, and you didn’t notice Aaron’s eyes on you at first. He watched your features closely, as if he was studying them carefully, trying to memorize them. Aaron sighed happily as he looked up at the sky, watching whatever it was you were staring at.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Aaron said, breaking the silence between you.
“Go for it,” you laughed softly, nodding your head. You couldn’t help but wonder what Aaron could possibly want to ask you.
“You always seem to come to these events alone,” he nodded, his profiling skills coming into play, “are these events just, not your partner’s thing?” He asked. 
“I don’t have a partner to bring with me,” You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I sort of wish I didn’t have to attend these things alone though, at least then I’d have someone to talk to for the evening.”
“Well…you can always come find me,” Aaron nodded. “I get the sense I’ll be attending these more frequently now.”
Your eyes met with Aaron’s, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip slightly as your gazes crossed paths. He gave you another rare smile, before shaking his head.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who makes me as nervous as you do. I’ve never had an issue talking to women before,” Aaron let out an awkward laugh.
You almost couldn’t believe what he had just said, you had half a mind to ask him to repeat himself. Aaron Hotchner was one of the most intimidatingly handsome men you’d ever met, and here he was, telling you that you made him nervous. You raised an eyebrow at him, speechless, and hoping he would elaborate further. 
“You know, I’ve thought you were beautiful since the day I first saw you,” Aaron nodded, his cheeks flushing to a soft pink colour. 
You couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly as Aaron complimented you, and for a moment, you swore he almost had a look of defeat on his face. You shook your head and smiled at him.
“You know, I’ve had a crush on you since the day I first saw you,” you replied.
Aaron took a step closer to you, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. You could feel your heart racing as his hands rested on your hips. You’d had the odd daydream about this happening to you before - you’d often daydreamed about Aaron, but rarely of him in a romantic light, normally your daydreams consisted of Aaron inviting you into his office for a “meeting”. The sweet, soft kiss he was giving you now was a welcome surprise. 
“Aaron,” you said softly as he pulled away, “you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that.” 
“Oh? Funny, I could say the same to you,” he grinned. 
“Do it again,” you challenged. 
As if on command, Aaron kissed you again, this time with passion and excitement behind it. You felt like a teenager having their first romantic experience - almost giddy with excitement as his tongue slid across your bottom lip gently. You had to admit, kissing Aaron was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. You couldn’t tell if it was the passion he had, the experience of his, or the fact that you’d longed for this moment, but Aaron was unmatched in terms of passion. You felt Aaron press his body against yours, your back gently pressing against the wall behind you. He gently caressed your sides, his hands running up and down on your waist and hips slowly, in almost a teasing fashion. 
Aaron pulled his lips apart from yours slightly, shrugging his suit jacket back off his shoulders in one quick motion. He tossed his jacket to the ground as his lips met yours again as if magnetized to one another. He put one hand into your long curled hair, perfectly styled for the event, although at this point, you couldn’t care less about how your hair looked. Aaron’s fingers gently tugged on your hair, pulling you in as close to him as physically possible. You could smell his Bleu de Chanel on him, the notes of his cologne giving you a rush as you realized just how close your bodies were to one another. The typically reserved, serious Aaron was a completely different person as he kissed you - he was passionate, romantic, intimate, and it only made you crave him more. You craved his touch, the taste of his lips, the smell of his cologne, the sound of his voice, the feel of his gaze on you. You didn’t just want Aaron, you needed him, at this point. 
As you heard the sound of voices calling Aaron’s name, you realized that some of the other guests had set out to look for him, wondering where he had disappeared to, as he was about to be called for an award of some sort. Aaron pulled his lips away agonizingly slow. He whispered softly to you and smiled. 
“We can continue this once I’m no longer needed inside,” his voice was almost seductive as he spoke. 
Aaron bent down to pick up his jacket, then straightened his clothes out before laughing softly. You noticed a smear of nude lipstick across his mouth and grinned. 
“Aaron, you know, that isn’t really your shade,” you laughed as you licked the tip of your thumb and wiped it off quickly. 
Aaron smirked at you before whispering again.
“Maybe we should test it out again, it might look better in the lighting at my apartment.” 
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nogodinf1 · 7 days
Text
F1 Driver NSFW Profile: ✷ Lewis Hamilton ✷
smut ✷ 18+ readers only
I. Flirt. He’s a shy sort of suave. He wants to come off cool and laid back. Thank God he never has to worry if he’s dressed well. Lewis is all about eye contact, making sure to look over the frame of whatever sunglasses he’s wearing so he can hold your gaze. It’ll be hard for him to look away; maybe he’ll keep your eyes for as long as he can by looking back or walking backward. He’ll flash his million-dollar smile at you; make sure you know he’s noticed you too. If there are cameras around, he’s pretty much going to stand 40 feet away from you, but if it’s amongst the trusted inner circle or just the two of you, he is stuck to you like glue. When you first meet, he’s flirty in a relaxed sense; it won’t come across as him being particularly interested, just friendly. He takes his time sussing you out and getting a feel for you. But once he’s ready to make his intentions known, he’s laying on the charm. Making you laugh, taking any excuse to brush against you. II. Propositioning.   Warm hands caressing down your back, spending a generous amount of time on your ass before smoothing down your calves. He’ll peck kisses anywhere he can reach, his endless brown eyes meeting yours as his lips roam your body. Lewis wants to seduce and be seduced. He likes kissing–[loves] kissing. Has a hard time having sex [without] kissing. He wants your tongue hot and heavy in his mouth. Lewis likes to tease too. If the mood strikes and you start to put the moves on him, he'll play dumb. Straight up pretends not to notice, wait and see how far you’ll go before you push him down onto the sofa and straddle him.
III. Libido. It’s relatively high, but he’s also creeping up to his forties. Don’t get me wrong, he has no trouble getting (or maintaining) an erection, but it takes him a bit longer to get him up and ready…especially if it’s a night after drinking. So, he doesn’t mind a bit of soft play, whether it's your mouth or the soft glide of your hand. He’s not too picky. He feels so much closer to his partner during and after sex. Lewis feels like there’s no other connection in the world like it and would probably even be down to try sex magic if you were into that kind of thing. 
IV. Turn-Ons: tame & nasty. Tame: Expensive clothes. When you hold him close to whisper in his ear. Laughing with your head thrown back. A nice fitting pair of trousers. Pretty, fast cars. Private beaches and cabanas. Outdoor showers. Spoiling you. Facetime calls to show him what you’re wearing. Getting along with his mum and step-mum. Having inside jokes with his brother. Fitting right into a game of footy with his nieces and nephews. Musicality in any way, shape, or form. Shy silliness that he gets to draw out of you. Diamonds on bare skin.  Nasty: When he fucks you so good you can’t even get out a moan, and it looks like  you’re having a sexy exorcism. Pulling your panties to the side instead of just pulling them off. Lowkey always wants to get caught; fucks you with the windows of your cabana wide open, or herds you into the single stall. Tender love and care to his balls. When you tell him that his dick is the best you’ve ever had. Receiving unsolicited your nudes. Mutual masturbation. Lingerie sets with lace bras and satin panties. The way your ass kinda makes a heart-shape in certain positions of doggy. Titties in his mouth. Topless beaches with wandering hands. V. Self-stimulation. Ideally, he would be able to Facetime you, and you could figure out a solution together. He'll use a video if the timezone doesn’t permit that, and he’s not desperate enough to wake you or disturb you at work. He can still appreciate porn, but if he wants to finish, he’d prefer to do it to you. VI. Foreplay. He almost pays too much attention to foreplay. It’s like he’s in some kind of competition with himself to see how wet he can make you before he finally slips inside. As he’s come into adulthood, he’s realised how powerful the act of cunnilingus is. He has his own version of getting drunk off your sex, usually in the form of semi-incoherent philosophical babbles of how we’re all connected and how beautiful your pussy is.
VII. Rhythm. He likes to keep it fresh but prefers deep, unhurried sex. Taking your time getting to know each other and savouring the feeling of the two of you together. He’s not afraid to moan or let his nastiest thoughts roll off his tongue. Most often he’ll be asking how it feels, for you to be louder. He likes egging you on. VIII. How He Likes It He’s a classic man. Doggy has a special place in his heart. He likes plenty of other positions, too, of course. But there’s just something about getting to watch your ass shake as he disappears inside you. You bent over, wet and moaning and rutting back against him. Rarely do you get to feel like you have the upper hand on him–he’s got lightning fast reflexes, strength and confidence that often make you feel like he’s not even real. Except in the bedroom and he has your front pressed into the bed and you start to work to throw your hips back to meet his thrusts. He nearly busts right then and there every time. 
IX. Location, location, location. A hopeless romantic, ideally, he’d have rose petals all over the floor and candles littering the entire place. But that’s not always feasible, though he still tells you it’s what you deserve. And though he’d deny it, ducking his head to hide the burning on his cheeks but the hot tub seems to hold a special place in his heart. To the point where his buddies will point and giggle at it the second you’re aboard a yacht for the week or they notice it on the balcony through the curtains. Somehow, they always seem to be one on your holidays or hotel rooms. And you both do you best to use it to the best of your abilities.  X. Kinky. He’s open minded and easy to approach. He likes experimenting when he feels safe and he feels safest with you. Depending on the mood, he can be gently encouraging, complimenting and worshipping you into bliss. Or, he can be a little more demanding, a little less lenient and a little more mean. He’s good at playing. He likes playing…as long as you seem like you are too. Any fantasy you feel like trying, he’s all ears. Rarely will he outright deny you–about most things–especially sex.
XI. Bedroom aids/Toys He’s not stupid, obviously you use toys whilst he’s away or busy. He doesn’t mind adding them in with the both of you either. It really only took one time for him to watch your eyes roll back in your head after just two minutes on the second to highest setting. Lately, his latest exploration in the bedroom has involved plugs. Nothing gets his heart pumping blood to his crotch quite like when you bend over and reveal you’ve decided to surprise him with one. Something about the shimmer of something in your ass while he sheeths himself deep inside you feels like ecstasy. 
XII. Cum. He can go for a while. He’s old enough where he doesn't need to lay back and think of England. He would prefer to finish after you though with the ferocity of your sex life, it’s quite literally always a competition to get others to cum first. Ideally, he’d finish inside of you but obviously sometimes that’s not always fisable. Though, more than enough times have you two snuck off for a quickie and you’re left uncomfortably wet in your panties after.
XIII. Pleasure reciprocation. Lewis loves to go down on you. Likes hearing all your moans and whines and any other noise he can get you to make. When his focus is on you and getting you to cum, he turns into an assertive yet gentle figure. He has plans for you, he’d like for you to follow them. But he’s not above giving into your desperation or gently teasing you for how worked up you get. He can teeter more towards mean when he feels like it though rarely can keep it up. By the time you’ve finished, he’s melted back into his true self. Making sure you’re not too far gone or nothing got too out of hand. Despite it all though, he makes you feel like he’s hungry for you. Like just the site of you or your body could drive him wild enough to cloud all his thoughts.
XIV. Bonus.
“I wanna show you something,” Lewis tells you, head down with his eyes focused on his phone. You approach him in the living room but don't make it to him before the TV on the wall above him blinks on. It shows the generic home display before it goes black again. But it's only for a moment. Then, a grainy, night vision video starts to play. 
It takes you a moment to realise what is. It’s not until you hear the video playback what sounds like Lewis’ laugh. On screen, now  in clear view of the camera, you dragged Lewis to one of the outdoor sofas. Suddenly, you recognize everything in the video.
It from the boat trip you took a few weeks ago, traipsing around Greece with some friends before Lewis had to get back in race mode for the foreseeable future. It was late, all your friends had gone to bed and the crew had been tipped heavily to give you some privacy on deck.
You’re standing there watching yourself, watching your mouth meet his and moan in pleasure. In person, you don’t realise he’s even standing behind you until a gentle hand on your middle startles you out of your gaze.  
“You remember that?” he asks softly, with a small nod towards the TV. You nod, letting out a distracted ‘mmhmm’ as you keep your eyes on the screen. His other hand meets your other side, palms softly caressing against the t-shirt you wore. 
Back on the boat, you had already pulled Lewis free from the confines of his joggers. You were on the floor, on your knees. Even with the state of the art speakers Lewis had installed, you can’t make out what he’s saying to you on video. Just the soft rasp of his voice as he eggs you on.
“How did you get this?” you ask, your throat dry. You had taken him into your mouth on the boat, Lewis throwing his head back in pleasure on screen. It was nice to see him–actually see what he looked like while you gave him head. Up close was one thing, but watching the effect you had on him has your insides somersaulting.
“I told you I’d have them get rid of the footage.” 
Neither of you were stupid. You both knew something as risky as this would require some damage control but Lewis promised you he’d take care of it.
“Yes, but how do you have it?” you gulp after a particularly loud moan vibrates off the screen. 
Lewis doesn’t answer you, just laughs softly as he moves to start placing kisses on your neck. His hands move from your waist, roaming over your arms, then your shoulders. The roughness of his skin against the softness of your skin feels euphoric. But he stops the motion all too soon, one his hands clasping over each of your wrists. In front of you, your past self is already mounting your boyfriend, his hands eager to expose your breasts from the bikini you were wearing. 
Loud, lewd sounds fill the room, echoing off the TV and bathing the both of you in a symphony of your own moans. You can feel Lewis’ breath against your neck, his hands still holding your wrists. You watch as his hand slipped over your core, pads of his fingers finding the perfect spot to send you over the edge. The sight of it makes you hotter, your skin starting to feel clammy and stomach somersaulting. Instinctively, you lean further back into Lewis, trying to instinctually rut yourself against him for some kind of relief. 
But he’s not taking any of it. Just tightens his grip on your wrists and moves so you can’t roll your hips back against him. 
The sounds on the TV get loud. You can hear the sound of your bodies meeting amongst the huffs and moans. It doesn’t matter how much you beg, how pathetically you mewl at Lewis to let you do something. He doesn’t care. Doesn’t even really let you look at him. At best you can get is the cocky smirk and devious gleam in his eyes before he’s gathering both your wrists in one hand and fixing your gaze ahead by your chin. 
Your heart feels like its beating out of your chest. Your skin is sticking to your clothes, working up a sweat from how hot you feel underneath your clothes. Lewis makes you watch the whole thing like that. Forced to watch both orgasms he gave you. Forced to listen to the defeated sigh of satisfaction Lewis gives as you pulled yourself off of him. Forced to watch the glistening trail of yourselves that even the shitty security camera could pick up sliding down your leg.
You don’t even have to move to tell how wet you are once the TV finally turns off. Looking (and feeling) like you’re in a trance, Lewis chuckles proudly and presses a kiss to your hair. 
“Now, go upstairs. Take all your clothes off. And wait for me.” He says, pressing one more kiss to your temple. He pulls away just a touch so he can look you in the eyes. “But do not touch yourself.” He taps his pointer finger to the tip of your nose and pats your ass as your single to get moving. 
You do as you're told and head upstairs. Meanwhile, Lewis gets working on some drinks for the pair of you. He only gets as far as pulling his mock-Tequilas from the cabinet before he hears what at first sounds like your phone going off. But the buzzing he hears through the upstairs floor doesn’t stop. He freezes in place to listen. The buzzing keeps going, far longer than any ringtone would. 
As soon as he realises what you’re doing, he drops what he’s doing and makes a break for the stairs. You can hear him calling your name through the bedroom door as he takes them to at a time to get to you.
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