#i wanted to do the baristas pov but that would have been way longer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eleganzadellarosa · 11 months ago

Text

Coffee Kisses ☕️ | Part 1

pairing: barista!kyungsoo x poc reader (ft. Baekhyun)

genre: fluff (if you do a spin and blink), smut, angst

warnings: MDNI (masturbation (m), mentions of oral sex and penetration), fast paced plot

word count: 4.6k+

A/N: This is going to be a two part fic, this first part being from Kyungsoo’s POV and the second from the reader’s. As always, enjoy and thanks for reading :)

taglist: @sleepingbeautydo

part 2 here

Grind the beans, dose, tamp, purge, pull and pour. It was so much of a habit now that I knew it like the back of my hand; could do it with my eyes closed. Everyone has something they’re good at and for me it’s anything related to coffee. For someone who doesn’t drink it often, espressos are my favorite to make simply because of how precise you have to be with each step to ensure the perfect cup. It makes me feel like a master at work, something I can actually brag about even though I would never.

I love walking in every morning to start my day with the smell of the assortment of coffee beans. It keeps me awake during my shifts, caffeinating my senses with each whiff. But she, she was the highlight of my day. The excitement from hearing the bells chime above the door just to see her figure walk through. I’ve never known for my heart to beat so fast around anyone and to grow a blush on my cheeks immediately, my face so red that it spreads to my ears. Thankfully I’m successful from hiding it from her so she doesn’t notice.

"Hi Kyungsoo!"

Her voice and smile have to be the deadliest combination, just the way she says my name makes it feel exotic, fun, seductive. She easily remembered it after a few days of consistently seeing it on my name tag. I hope she didn’t catch me staring before the cat let go of my tongue.

“Hey, how are you? I’ll have your order ready in a bit.”

I knew what she wanted, why wouldn’t I? Her ability to stick to routine made it easier but even if she ordered something different off the menu each time I would know before she uttered a word. I shouldn’t be so consumed by her presence, yet every time she’s around, the perfection I’ve practiced gets clammy and slips through my fingers. My body was no longer on autopilot, her drink HAD to be perfect; the right amount of everything so I could get that gold star.

While waiting for her order to be ready, I reward myself with glances her way as she waits patiently. I’ve been lied to all my life about what angels look like because they never describe her. Skin brown like the coffee beans I brew every day, eyes like the sun setting upon the sand and hair fluffy like the inside of a castella cake. No exaggeration to say she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. If only I had the courage to tell her that since my lingering glances don’t do the job.

I cherish the split second my fingers brush against hers as I hand her the cup. She flashes me another prize winning smile that never fails to take my breath away. I can’t help but feel like a stalker with the way I watch her walk back to her table to take the first sip. The way she closes her eyes and a small smile spreads across her face like she’s in complete bliss. I wonder if her expression would be the same if my head was between her legs. Shit, I can’t think like that if I don't want an obvious tent in my pants.

“Umm excuse me, do you have alternative milks available?”

Oh right, I have other customers beside her that I have to tend to. It’s dumb how upset I get when I can’t follow her every movement but she’s my favorite show to watch and now I’m starting to think my job is getting in the way; yet it's the only channel where she's available. The middle of the week was usually pretty slow but of course on the day I could fill my day with nothing but her existence, the flood of people come rushing in. I’m obviously not the only employee here but it feels like it when I want to hurry and get everyone gone to go back to my favorite pastime.

Like clockwork, she always leaves 30 minutes after she finishes her coffee and I never have anything to say or do to make her stay; which in turn is one of my biggest downfalls. Why am I such a pussy when it comes to her? I want her so badly yet I can’t say anything off script. Instead of leaving immediately, she was coming back up to the counter. A break in routine? Something had to be up. I smiled at her, maybe a little too happily but she smiles back with just as much shine. I almost had the chance to break free from my monotonous dialogue but the customer in front of me finally speaks up to order.

Fuck, such a missed chance. Her eyes were sad but understanding and she waved before leaving out the door. I switched off with another worker as soon as I finished the order so I can take my break, hopefully catching her outside before she walks too far. To my disappointment, she was nowhere in sight no matter how far I looked in each direction. Fate was so cruel giving me the opportunity but not enough time to change my life for what I know would be the better.

Whatever she wanted to tell me had to be important as I haven’t seen her in weeks. I could only hope she was okay but I had no way of contacting her, something I could only blame myself for. I waited everyday for her but she never came and every cup of espresso I made felt pointless. Where was she? What did she want to tell me? It was time to clock out and taking the apron off made me want to quit altogether. I felt a hand tap me on my shoulder before I made it out the back.

“Hey Kyungsoo, listen I need to talk to you about something important. You’ve been here the longest and you’re my best barista so I figured I should tell you first.”

My boss. He was chill overall, teaching me some of the skills that I possess today. He’s what I’d call a father figure if my father wasn’t a big part of my life already. “Thank you for thinking of me first. What’s going on?”

He takes a deep breath and sighs loudly so I know the next words are going to be bad news. “I’m selling the cafe. I’m getting older and I’m ready to retire. I wanted to pass it down to you but I never got the chance to talk to you and I have way too much debt to pay back and wouldn’t want to put that on you.”

It was in fact bad news and not even because I was sad about losing my job. I was losing the only connection I had with her and I wasn’t able to tell her. “W-what? When? How much time do we have left?”

“Well I’ve already sold it, I didn’t have much time to decide before the buyer called off the deal. We’re closing next month. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner sport.”

Hah, calling me sport after giving me the worst news of my life. Such a parent thing to do. I didn’t have a say so in this, I definitely didn’t have the money to keep this business afloat and to be honest I’d only really want it just to have the chance of seeing her again. If I wasn't afraid of the way I'd be judged, I'd cry right now just to release all the anger I've accumulated in the last 3 minutes.

The drive home felt like an endless road, the thoughts running through my head making it hard for me to keep track of time. It's times like these that I wish I could call her and vent and be comforted by the warm tone of her voice. I fucked up badly and it hurts knowing there's no one else to blame.

I hung my coat on the rack next to the front door and dragged myself over to the couch to flop down onto it face first. There had to be some way I could find out who she is just to let her know that the cafe wouldn't be here much longer; that I wouldn't be there much longer. I tried and tried to think but every plan fell through right into the shredder. I felt like I was being laughed at for not excusing myself and finding out what she wanted to say to me. The one day that she was actually going to say something different, I did the polite thing. Whatever. I still had a month left to wait for her, to see her again, to speak to her again. All I could do now was hope she actually showed up.

This was it, the last day open for business. I had already grown tired of telling everyone why we were closing especially since I didn’t get to tell the most important person. Was she really gone for good? Did I really miss my chance to talk to her and build a relationship outside of this cafe? It felt weird knowing this would be my last time wiping down the tables, mopping the floor, coming to a place that felt like a second home. I reluctantly locked the door and changed the sign from open to closed. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass, I looked pitiful. I was desperate, if she came to the door right now, I’d unlock it in a heartbeat.

She never came.

My boss came and patted me on the shoulder before he told me it was time to go. "Sorry sport, gotta turn these lights out, it's time to lock up for good."

I grabbed my stuff and made sure my locker was empty before following him out. One last look around the cafe and the gate was pulled down as if I was closing my eyes. Doing that alone already made it look abandoned. I tried again to rack my brain for any way that I could let her know where I was and how to contact me, but once again there was nothing I could do.

I walked to my car and made sure the boss got to his safely. He turned around before getting in. "Hey uh Kyungsoo, wait just a sec." He walked over to me and swallowed the lump in his throat before hugging me tight. "Don't become a stranger, you have my number."

"Don't worry Frank, I won't forget about you. Thank you for everything."

He nodded and patted me on the back before we each went out separate ways.

I no longer had to set my alarm so early and having so much time on my hands felt like a crime. My life had no purpose besides finding her and telling her exactly how I felt but even that dream seems far fetched. I started drinking more coffee, having a cup every day just to feel something; just to get a spark of energy.

I realized how I never developed any other hobbies besides making coffee now that I was no longer doing it. I guess this is why people endlessly scroll on social media and to be honest I didn't have the energy to do anything else. Unfortunately for me, my entertainment was cut short when my phone started ringing, the name "Baekhyun" flashing at the top. I'm sure if I rolled my eyes any harder they would have fallen out my head. Baekhyun is a very close friend of mine, but I knew why he was calling and I was over the conversation before it even started.

Reluctantly I answered it, waiting for his high pitched voice on the other end. "Kyungsoo~" he said in a sing-songy voice, already getting me upset before he reveals the reason for his call.

"What do you want Baek?"

"That's not how you speak to a friend who has something you want."

"Something I want?" I didn't expect much from him, but I was curious what he found interesting enough to think I wanted it. "What is it?"

"See, I knew you'd be curious! But first are you still sad over that girl from the cafe?"

I can't help but scoff hearing him say what I knew was true, but coming from him made it sound like he interrupted me from digging my grave as we spoke. "I have some regrets...just tell me what it is Baek."

I could hear him lowly chuckle on the other end and now I was starting to get annoyed with his confidence. I’ve known Baekhyun for years know, I consider him a good friend but now I’m rethinking my decision.

“What if I told you, I found your precious jewel?”

My ears perked up at the word precious. “Why are you talking about?”

“I happen to know someone who knows her and now I have an IG you can stalk.”

My heart was racing, more so than I’d have liked. But knowing that I finally had a way to contact the love of my life excites me in ways I couldn’t describe.

“What the hell Baek? How do you even know what she looks like?” I questioned him but it was more so for me to stall. Did I actually want to know what she’s been up to? Why she chose to leave in the first place?

“Stop asking so many questions! Do you want it or not?”

“Wha- I-I mean I guess so?”

He sucked his teeth, telling me he already sent me the info and to take advantage of it before hanging up. I couldn’t help but stare at the message containing the change to my fate. My fingers were shaking just opening the app so I could search her up. I found it without me being finished typing. Surprisingly her account was public, any pair of eyes able to see the goods. She’s absolutely gorgeous and seeing a new side of her only made me love her more. Once again, I felt like a creep just mindlessly scrolling through her pictures.

Then, like a thorn on a rose, there was a picture of her with some guy. I shouldn't feel jealous but I do. He has his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Harmless right? The captions showing three confetti popper emojis. Could it symbolize an anniversary? A birthday? She tagged him in the post but his account was private so there was no way I could continue to snoop and find out who this guy was. Maybe I was thinking about this too deeply. And hell, who's to say that I would even have a chance with her. Just wishful thinking I suppose.

Baekhyun was calling me again like he could hear me doubting myself. "What Baek?"

"Oh I'm sorry, did I interrupt your stalking?" I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Hey I'm not stalking her, this is my first time being on her page."

"Sure suuure buddy, whatever you wanna call it. Are you gonna message her?"

It didn't cross my mind that way. I could actually "slide into her DMs" and talk to her. Would she want to talk to me? What if that is her boyfriend and I just end up making myself look stupid? "I-I don't know..."

"Ahh come on Kyungsoo, you're right there man, all you gotta do is hit her up. I'm sure if she had something to tell you that day, she wouldn't mind telling you now."

"What if she has a boyfriend?" I dazed myself with the question and I bit the nail on my thumb trying to shake the nervousness out of my system.

"A boyfriend? Hmm...I mean then she has a boyfriend, but at least you can find out now instead of letting this go on forever. If you like her, just make it known and see where it gets you."

He was right, but I couldn't accept the rejection if it came down to it. She was the light in a dark tunnel and I would hate for it to be blocked off. For now I could just follow her and see if she followed me back. My sweaty finger pressed onto the follow button and I wanted to throw my phone just so I didn’t have to see what happened next.

It had been going on a few months now and still no follow back. I would occasionally check to see if she posted but she never did. It almost felt like she didn't just so she wouldn't have to interact with me. I felt stupid, stupid for allowing myself to fall in love so quickly and be so hasty with everything. If she were to ever show her face again, I hope to get even a little bit of an explanation.

I had found another job working at a different cafe, but of course it didn't feel the same. Today was my only day off for the week and I decided to finally give in to Baekhyun's begging and pleading to hang with him and a few friends at a bar. It wasn't a typical bar, it felt more like a restaurant with a bar attached to it, but the piss drunk guys that left would probably say otherwise. Baek's shoulder bumped into mine and I looked over at him to see he looked like he was waiting for me to say something.

"Sorry, what?" Maybe the drinks were getting to me and I just hadn’t noticed.

"I said, this is the friend that knows the girl from the cafe."

My face felt warm and I wanted to hide in a corner. Why'd he have to put me on the spot like that? It made me sound like a crazy person. "Oh, really? Nice to meet you." I tried to sound as calm as possible but knowing me, my face or ears were red with embarrassment.

The guy leaned over to shake my hand. His grip was firm and his hands were kind of big. Actually he was kind of big. I didn't pay him much mind before now, but boy was this dude tall.

"Nice to meet you too, Kyungsoo right? I'm Chanyeol."

He had a mouth full of teeth and when he smiled, all of them showed so easily. He seemed bubbly just like Baek, which is probably why they're friends. His head would fall back and he would hit the person next to him every time he laughed. The jokes weren't even that funny, but then again, he's been downing his drinks like they're water.

"So, Kyungsoo, I heard you got ignored." Baekhyun shot him a death glare, and punched him in the arm making him wince.

I'm going to fucking kill you Baekhyun I said in my mind but showed with my gritted teeth and clenched jaw. "If you wanna put it that way, sure."

"Well I wouldn't say you got ghosted because I haven't spoken to her either. She's been kind of MIA. I mean we didn't talk too often, but she hasn't responded to any of the messages I sent her."

I was hopeful again but this time I didn't want to get too ahead of myself. Knowing she wasn't active with anyone made it a lot better for me but it also made me worry. "Maybe she's just spending a lot of time with her boyfriend."

"Her boyfriend? She's single...haha oh dude, you must have seen that picture with her and her best friend. Trust me, he's far from a boyfriend. She probably just had to go back to the states for something. I'm sure she'll be back."

Well, that's a relief. She doesn't have a boyfriend but there's no guarantee she'd be back here to see me. "Wait, how'd you know she's the girl I was talking about?" This question has always lingered in the back of my mind but I just trusted Baek enough to give me the right information.

"Uh probably because she's mentioned you so many times before? She would only go to that cafe to see you, she doesn't even like coffee unless you make it. I wasn't sure you were who she was talking about until Baek told me which cafe you worked at and mentioned you were the "bald guy who makes espressos."

Before I could even protest, Baek rubbed his hands together apologetically. None of that mattered right now, I couldn't dwell on the anger. She only liked the coffee that I made her? What a way to make a guy's dick hard, or mine at least. And the fact that I was on her mind too didn't make it any better for the blood rushing to my lower half. "What? She came in there every day, there's no way she came in to just see me."

"No, I'm pretty sure that's the reason. She kept trying to make me come with her just to get a cup but no offense, I'm not into espressos like that. She also said something about you being really cute and always so ready to take her order. I think she has a crush on you man, trust me she doesn't talk about any other guy like that."

Now I really felt the heat in my face. Maybe the alcohol was kicking in because my head felt dizzy too. Maybe I needed to put the drinks down. A conversation has never gotten me so excited, but I've also never spoken to her besides taking her order so we'll stick a pin in it for now. As much as I wanted it to, it didn't give me the confidence to try and message her, especially since she doesn't seem to be logged in anymore. Now all I could do was pray that she came back just so I could have the chance to speak to her one more time. I wouldn't be too shy this time, I would actually tell her how I felt and ask her out on a date.

By the time I got back home, my head was pounding, all the drinks I consumed finally catching up to me. Flopping onto the bed on my stomach, my head filled with nothing but thoughts of her. Was she actually attracted to me or did I just make good coffee? I mean both could be taken as a compliment but I could care less how she felt about my espressos. The intoxication made me horny to the point that I felt like I'd explode if I didn't do something about it.

I rushed to lay on my back and release my dick from the jeans I wore, pressure noticeably getting better no longer constricted by the fabric. The tip leaked viciously, indicating just how lewd my thoughts were becoming. The blood rushed back to the aching length when I wrapped my warm hand around it, only increasing the sticky substance.

It felt good, to imagine it was her hand instead of mine. I could only dream of what it would be like seeing her sitting in front of me in nothing but a lacy set, perfect hands engulfing my shaft enjoying every second our skin made contact. It was becoming all too much, the sweat accumulating on my forehead and neck.

I pumped my hand faster and thought of her more and more as I started to remove the last pieces of fabric that shielded her from nudity. Soon she was in nothing but her skin, more beautiful than she was just a few seconds ago. She paused her movements only to drape a legs over my waist and position herself so that she was aligned perfectly with the angry red head.

Slowly…slowly…she eased her way down and before I could reach the deepest depths of her, I snapped out of my thoughts, body tensing up viciously, slightly shaking. I made a mess. My hands covered in the white liquid that also landed on my chest and stomach. It made me realize it’s been quite some time since I had some alone time with myself. Well now this shirt had to go in the wash along with my jeans.

On the way back from the laundry room I had to ask myself what I was doing. There’s no point of using her as a thought to push me over the edge if our future was still undetermined. I now sat on the bed in just my boxers feeling guilty about thinking about her like that. I was too caught up in my feelings and luckily I could blame most of it on the alcohol.

It would be hard but I had to be patient and wait it out. Please return to me is all I could ask for as I fell back against my pillow and closed my eyes for the night.

It's been a year now. A year since I've last seen her and it's safe to say I've given up. No one has spoken to her that I know of and for all I know, she could never plan on coming back. Things were going well for me at my new job though, I was promoted to manager within the first 6 months and I've been giving everyone pointers on how to make the best drinks. There was of course a sense of happiness I felt being in my element again but I wish I could go back and try again. No one has made me as happy as she did and it was snatched away from me before I had the chance to savor it, but in my defense I never knew it would be gone.

It was almost time for me to clock out, much needed as the day was quite busy. "Hey, I'm getting ready to head out. You got everything covered yeah?" I was confident the new girl knew what she was doing but I wanted her to feel confident in herself. She gave me a bright smile and thumbs up but I could tell there was still some doubt there.

On days like these, I walk and sit at the bus stop before going home. It sounds crazy because I don't ever actually get on, it just brings me a sense of comfort that I can't explain. The bus is right on time, as always. The driver is used to me now, giving me a knowing nod of his head before closing the big glass doors and pulling off. The next bus should be coming in 15 minutes and I had no problem waiting.

As clear as the sky was 5 minutes ago, I didn’t expect for rain to be pouring down right now. But I should be used to things not going the way I imagined. The next bus pulled up and I almost ran up to the window. Right before my very eyes was the one and only princess herself. I couldn’t believe it, I waited a whole year to see her again and here she was casually riding the bus I watched drive by almost everyday.

My heartbeat thumped in my ears, telling me to be brave and take the chance. She hasn’t even looked to her side yet, headphones over her ears obviously distracting her from the real world. It was time to make up for what I didn’t do one year ago. Courageously, I stood from where I sat and rushed onto the bus, just to stand at the front with my chest heaving as if I ran a marathon, my clothes halfway drenched.

She looked up, her eyes squinting before that gorgeous smile spread across her face. That has to be a good sign right? She quickly removed the headphones from her ears and stood up. I hurriedly walked over to her as she almost fell against the seats in front of her from how quickly she tried to move in between them. Thankfully, I caught her arm and helped her stand upright.

Just as I thought, a simple touch still sent electric through the tips of my fingers. She’s even more beautiful than I remembered. Like a flashback, I was standing there staring at her unable to say anything, so she spoke up for me instead.

“Kyungsoo…is that you?”

#exo kyungsoo #exo smut #exo #exo do #exo do kyungsoo #kyungsoo smut #kyungsoo x reader

36 notes · View notes

prosperdemeter2 · 1 year ago

Note

Your Abby pov of the dinner scene has got me craving more so what the hell was going through her head during the not-a-date on valentines day

Abby loved Valentine’s Day. She knew it was just another overly commercialized holiday full of too much sugar that emphasized capitalism more than love, but she had always loved it. “I just think it’s great, you know?” Abby leaned against the little table and watched Buck as he shifted on the other side of it. The flowers he had brought her were resting against the top, a beautiful array of pinks and purples and it had been so long since anyone had gotten her flowers. She was pretty sure they were friends, although Abby knew she wouldn’t complain if they ever stumbled into more. Clearly, that wasn’t something Buck was opposed to - him and Eddie were, after all, just friends. “A whole day dedicated to love.”

She was pretty sure he agreed with her, at least a little bit. Abby had caught him looking, once or twice, when she wore a particularly low cut shirt or put in a little bit more effort to look pretty. “Right? And like…” Buck shifted at the table and Abby reached out, running her finger down the silky smoothness of the flowers he had brought with a flustered smile. “It doesn’t have to just be for romantic love, right?” He laughed nervously and watched her through his eyelashes. “It can… you can express that to friends too!”

It was a terribly flirtatious look. Maybe it was wrong of her, but Abby liked having his attention pointed in her direction. Buck flirted, Abby knew that was something he did. She smiled in his direction and brushed her fingernail down the back of his hand. “Absolutely.” Sometimes Abby flirted too. There was no harm in it! He wasn’t dating Eddie. Buck had lamented the pains of being single with her plenty of times before (there was nothing stopping them from having a little bit of fun while Buck figured out that he didn’t exactly count as single when he was only having sex with one man). The barista called her name and Abby fumbled with herself. “Oh! I ordered your drink for you, I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh,” Buck blinked at her and chewed on the inside of his cheek. That was another tell of his, Abby thought, to inform her of what he really thought. He was always doing it around her, especially whenever she said something mildly suggestive in his ear. He would flush, just as he had then, and chew on his cheek and Abby knew, she knew that he was interested in her like she was in him. “No that’s… that’s fine.” He hastily assured. “Thank you.”

She beamed and stepped away from the table.

They didn’t have to be any exclusive. Just one night! That was all Abby had ever really wanted. Just one night to be under Buck and then over Buck and then, maybe, under him again. Then he could go back to Eddie. And maybe it wasn’t fair of her, maybe it wasn’t exactly friendship material of her, but Abby didn’t really… it had been so long and it had been even longer since anyone had ever looked at her the way Buck did. He told her she was beautiful and attractive and that anyone would be lucky to have her, and then he went to Eddie’s house and let him fuck him (or fucked him? Abby didn’t really know the specifics, anytime she vaguely asked him Buck clammed up and turned the topic around.). “Two season’s specials?” The barista said as she handed over the paper cups.

“Yes,” Abby smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“You asked for extra strawberry, right?”

“Right.”

“Awesome.” The barista shot her a thumbs up. “Good luck with your stud.” She winked and walked away and Abby… Abby liked it. She liked that someone looked at the two of them and didn’t say anything about the age difference, just assumed they were out on a date together.

She smiled to herself and straightened her shoulders. Buck put his phone down when she handed him his cup, a little eager to see if he liked her drink choice. He always seemed like a sweets guy to her, Abby had a feeling he didn’t really indulge as much as he could because of his fierce requirements at the station. Abby handed him a paper cup, her eyes twinkling behind her glasses. “I hope they’re not calling you in.”

“No,” Buck snorted and shook his head. “Chris forgot to tell Eddie about the classroom Valentine’s policy.”

Abby wanted to throw her cup of hot coffee at Eddie Diaz’s head.

He had Buck every other day - why couldn’t Abby have him just this once?

#ask tag #rewrite

9 notes · View notes

carayat · 3 years ago

Text

୨୧ through a lens — chapter 2.3

synopsis ; hybe university is a school full of creativity, crushes, and chaotic evil energy. you try your best to navigate your 3rd year at hybeu, but unfortunately, you have no clue what's in store for you

pairings ; enhypen jake x fem! reader, bts jungkook x fem! reader, svt mingyu x fem! reader

an ; hi besties long time no see.. jk it's only been a day but i'm sorry i didn't update yesterday :( i took the SAT this morning so i went to bed early last night. anyway you might notice some format changes 👀 nothing big but these details will be here from now on for the rest of the chapters! i also realized so far the story has nothing to do with the summary... we'll get there soon ok guys i'll give you so many txtenha + yn moments!

written portion . . .

pov ; taehyun

wiping off the counter, taehyun eyed the bathroom door expectantly. thankfully, yn finally exited and the restroom line began to thin out.

to any bystander, she looked totally normal weaving through tables on her way back to jake and jungkook. still, with taehyun's 6th best friend sense, he easily noticed her shiftiness.

she sat down and cleared her throat, pretending that nothing happened, but her shoulders shook slightly and she coughed uncomfortably. yn clearly didn't want to talk to mingyu.

pov ; yn

you didn't even dare to look at the counter in case you made eye contact with your estranged friend. was he even a friend at this point? you didn't know.

you put your hand on your chest and cleared your throat. "shall we continue?" you smiled at jungkook and jake while opening your laptop. the boys both looked at you with wide eyes but nodded and turned to their screens.

"you're ok, right?" jungkook asked.

"yeah you were in there for awhile," jake added.

you gave them a reassuring smile. "of course! don't worry, i just had a stomach ache. i'm all good now though."

you tried to make yourself small, angling so your head was blocked from mingyu's view as he stood at the counter catching up with minghao. but it was just your luck; his head craned around as he scanned the room and his eyes fell on you.

in your peripheral vision, it seemed like mingyu was walking towards you. no no no absolutely not NOPE NOT TODAY. to your dismay, he ignored your silent internal monologue and stopped in front of your table.

"yn?" he asked and you inwardly groaned. it was time to put your best acting skills to use.

"mingyu! it's been so long, what are you up to these days? tell me how your summer was!" you gave him a (hopefully) genuine looking smile. i wish it'd been longer. i don't care what you're up to these days. please don't tell me how your summer was.

"hey yeah! my summer was good," he rubbed his neck sheepishly eyeing jungkook and jake. "nice to see you again jungkook, hello to you as well, i'm kim mingyu. would you gentlemen wonder if i stole yn for a moment?"

SAY YOU WOULD MIND. PLEASE. I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO HIM. you tried to shoot mental messages at them. however, they didn't catch on.

jake turned to mingyu, "sure go ahead, it's nice to meet you too! i'm jake." he gave the other man a bright grin.

your heart sunk. feigning nonchalance, you looked up at mingyu from your seat "fine we can catch up for a little before i go back to my work, ok? but you have to buy me another drink." you held up your empty glass of tea and stood up, following him towards the barista counter.

"i thought you were a coffee girl." he remarked lightly.

"i am," you rolled your eyes playfully. i hate my life. "but the boys both got iced teas so i had to match the aesthetic! and i'm a sucker for taehyun's mixed berry drinks."

mingyu chuckled lightly and ordered you another drink from taehyun. when your best friend shot you a quick glance, you sent him a nonverbal signal. help me. but taehyun just shook his head subtly with a smile and walked away from the cashier, that traitor.

"...so how have you been?" mingyu asked, breaking the silence.

"good- great actually! never been better," you hoped it sounded like you were telling the truth.

it wasn't really a lie though: after the fiasco with mingyu, you managed to have a pretty great summer. you earned a coveted video production internship with mnet. you also adopted injeolmi—the canine love of your life—which was probably the best decision you ever made. you even travelled to jeju with the boys in august, celebrating kai's birthdays and your own.

he hesitated before responding. "that's wonderful! wait that didn't sound genuine i swear i'm serious oh god." he stammered and started to blush while you laughed. "don't mock me hold on a second," he fake glared at you jokingly and took a deep breath before continuing. "i'm really glad you're doing well, actually."

your heart softened. damn you kim mingyu. there was a reason you'd fallen for him in the first place. still, you kept your guard up and maintained the act.

"well how are you? taehyung told me you went to paris and milan. you have to tell me everything."

"oh um, it was nice i guess. i never thought modeling would be for me but it's pretty fun actually. there's a lot of people who just act fake on the surface though," he added at the end. "i'm glad i'm home so i can finally be around genuine people like you," he smiled.

behind you, you heard a snort. beomgyu was restocking the pastries, snickering under his breath while he clearly eavesdropped on your conversation. you shot him a glare and turned back around.

"aw that's really sweet of you! i'm glad you're back." before he could reply, you continued on, "also i hope you don't worry about that incident from the end of last year. we're friends right?" you grit your teeth as you smiled at him.

mingyu let out a sigh of relief. "yeah, yeah! friends." he grinned at you as if a weight was lifted off his chest.

suddenly his phone rang. "oh shit, that's my manager. i have to run. i'll see you later yn!" you waved goodbye as he ran out of the cafe.

behind you, beomgyu was slow clapping.

prev | masterlist | next

taglist (open) ; @rich-man-v @jjikyuu @athousandandonefandoms @ksooed @y3jiishot

49 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years ago

Note

Quick question sorry if this has been asked before: do you know any Johnlock fanfic where they’re extremely sensual? Like not just making love but just super methodically drawn out and slow and sweet?

Hi Nonny!!

Ahh, because of this ask, I went through my bookmarks to see if I have any listed with “sensuality” so that’s what this list is!! It definitely doesn’t have all of my fics because I have to go back through them and tag them, but in the meantime, enjoy what I started tagging a few months ago when you sent me this ask, LOL <3

As always, add your own fics here, Lovelies!!

SENSUALITY

See also:

Emotional Love Making || [MOBILE POST]

Emotional Love Making Pt. 2

Loved. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 1,231 w., 1 Ch. || First Sherlock POV, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nose Kisses, Morning After, Love Confessions, Morning Cuddles, Emotional Sherlock, Sentiment, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock reflects on his relationship with John. Part 5 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Morning Sunlight by slashscribe (E, 3,565 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Morning Sex, Fluff, PWP, Established Rel., Soft Idiots) – A thin band of soft morning light peeks between the curtains and stretches across John’s torso, laying dormant across his forearm, dipping into the space between his arm and his chest, illuminating his right nipple but just brushing the edge of his left, disappearing into his armpit, and reappearing again right over Sherlock’s eyes where his head rests, nestled against John’s shoulder. Sherlock is not annoyed by the light’s intrusion on his sleep, not when it rests so soft and tantalizing on John’s skin, a work of unintentionally erotic art. A PWP with so much emotion.

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Sussex, Bees, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds

How To Unfold a Heart by elwinglyre (E, 25,477 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It, BAMF John, Mentioned Eurus, POV First Person Sherlock, Case Fic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Topping from the Bottom, 3 Yr Old Rosie, Introspection, Sexual Fantasies, John Worship, Ogling, Hand Holding, Kidnapping, Domesticity, Sherlock Whump, First Kiss/Time, Doctor John, Caring John, Soft Sherlock, Sensuality, Touching, Crying, Love Confessions, Anxious Sherlock, Rimming, Toplock, Fingering, Bossy Bottom John) – To Sherlock’s dismay, John’s return to Baker Street with Rosie is only temporary. Sherlock’s daily visits to Regent Park with John and Rosie illuminate his lost childhood memories and missed opportunities. But with each trip to the park, Sherlock also feels a growing sense of hope. That is until the past horrors return unexpectedly in a cryptic note folded in the shape of a heart. To decipher the message, Sherlock must uncover the nature of the hearts around him, including his own.

Lucifer's Gardens by ampersand_ch (E, 32,679 w., 12 Ch. || GERMAN VERSION || Romance, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Murder, Poison / Drugging, Mystery, John Undercover, Academic Club, Therapy, Rituals, Jungian Archetypes, Doctors & Physicians, Grief/Mourning, Esotericism, Hospitals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, John Falls In Love With Another Man, Jealous Sherlock, Crying, Doctor John, Hand Holding, First Kiss/Time, Mysticism, Hugging, Touching) – John goes undercover for an investigation as a favour to Lestrade in a village in Suffolk. The events surrounding the case awaken deep-seated fears in Sherlock. While John begins to come to a realisation of what he needs in Lucifer's Gardens, Sherlock tries to find a way to reach John – in more ways than one.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #sensuality #soft sherlock #soft john #Anonymous

151 notes · View notes

just-here-for-the-moment · 3 years ago

Note

For the DIFFERENT POV GAME:

I want Javi’s POV on this whole adorable scene.

Okay, my Queen @quica-quica-quica, I want you to know that I suuuuucked in a huge breath when I saw this Ask, because I was entirely unsure if I could do this. It seemed like a really hard challenge, but FOR YOU I’ll try anything.

I dug in to see what I could do, and of course because I can’t just write succinctly I had to start waaaaaay back in the beginning of the story to get Javier where I needed him for the phone number scene… hope that’s okay!!

Thank you for challenging me this way! This went from scary to amazing in just a few days! I love you so much, my friend!!!

---

Coffee Shop Girl (a companion piece to “For Now” told from Javier’s point of view)

Word count: 3000+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Javier Peña x “You” (Austin coffee shop barista; cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: slow-burn; references to previous hiring of sex workers; cigarette smoking; Javier masturbating

Javier Peña felt like he was at loose ends. Not for the first time in his life, but it’s different feeling ‘lost’ as a young man than feeling ‘lost’ when you’re on the wrong side of 40. At least a teenager can still expect their whole life ahead of them. Since leaving the DEA and the fight in Colombia behind, he had been feeling directionless.

Spending some time at his dad’s ranch in Laredo had helped, the way that hard labor and sweat always does. It left him too tired to ruminate, to sink into the blues and feel sorry for himself. He had lined up a teaching job at a university in D.C. but it didn’t start until the fall semester, and Javier wasn’t looking forward to an entire blazing-hot summer on the ranch. So when his friend Bill called from Austin and offered a short contract job doing consulting for one of the state agencies, he jumped at the chance.

Javier landed at Mueller Airport at 2:00 in the afternoon on the second Saturday in June. He made his way out of luggage pickup to the Hertz desk and signed for a rental car. It didn’t take him long to find the apartment complex where Bill had arranged for him to stay. Bill’s coworker’s son had graduated from UT Austin in May, and the lease wasn’t up until August, so everything worked out perfectly. Javi could sublet for the remainder of the summer, and the apartment complex was close enough to the office that he could take the bus, meaning he wouldn’t have to put too many miles on the rental car or pay for parking downtown. A small, blandly furnished one-bedroom apartment near work was perfect. He could make it work for two months, and he had certainly lived in much worse places during his years traveling.

On Monday Javier was introduced around the office and given his portfolio of cases to consult on. He also found out that the coffee in the office was total shit. He had spent too many years drinking government-grade slop at the DEA and other agencies to put up with it now. He wasn’t one to complain, or to order any of the frilly new designer coffee drinks that seemed to be making the rounds among the ladies in the secretarial pool, but he had noticed a coffee shop between here and the bus stop. Some local place, one of those Austin things where they boasted about fair trade and locally roasted beans. If they made a decent cup of black coffee he could splurge, buy a cup on his way into the office each day.

The bus dropped him off at the corner at 7:45, so he could grab a coffee and still be on time to work at 8:00. Punctuality wasn’t always his strong suit, but Javier wanted to at least make a good impression while he was consulting. You never knew who might be a network contact to something good, and he didn’t want to screw Bill over after he had recommended him for the contract.

Tuesday Javier tried the coffee shop and found out that their coffee was not only decent for the price, it was actually good. Wednesday he went back again, this time brushing fingers with the pretty barista by accident. He offered her a “thanks” and then went on his way. Thursday he walked in and stood patiently in line behind two stoner kids trying to make up their minds between breakfast tacos and blueberry muffins. The pretty barista was there again, and she waved him over with a smile, indicating he could skip to the counter and leave the hippie kids in line.

“Black coffee, right?” Her smile actually reached her eyes, and for a moment Javier was very glad for all of the body language and psychology classes he had ever had to sit through. It was nice having a pretty lady smile at you to start your morning, and even better that this one already knew his order. She was quick, he figured, and good at her job if she had his order memorized after only two days as a customer. Not that ‘black coffee, to go’ was a difficult order, but he hadn’t expected to become a regular so quickly.

He smiled and nodded, “That’s right. Thank you.” He looked for a wedding ring and then for a nametag on her black apron, but didn’t see either one. He slid a rumpled $5 bill across the counter, larger than the singles he had paid with the previous two days, but she was nice. “Keep the change.”

He thought he saw her bite her lip as she turned away, and while she was fixing his cup he took a moment to check her out. He wasn’t some kind of pervert who would goose her from over the counter, but from what he could see she was attractive. Hell, most women were attractive to Javier. He suddenly realized it had been a while since he’d gotten laid. His last relationship was years past, and he no longer visited prostitutes regularly. Javier wasn’t a ‘reformed man’ by any means, it was just that that habit had been limited to a specific time and place in his life where he wasn’t stable enough to have a long-term relationship, and it had the added bonus of gathering intelligence.

The barista turned back to him with the cup and when she handed it off their eyes locked and their fingers touched again. He saw her pupils dilate and recognized the little spark that turned over in his own gut. Damn, she really was attractive. But Javier didn’t want to be the kind of lecherous guy who hit on a woman while she was working. Too many men mistook the minimum of customer service friendliness for a sexual invitation. Or worse, like the men who hit on waitresses on purpose since they couldn’t be outright rude to stop them. Javier suppressed a smile and took the cup from her, nodding his thanks.

On Friday when he breezed into the coffee shop he saw the pretty barista smile from behind the counter, and she immediately turned and started pouring his to-go cup. She turned back and gave him the ‘what’s up’ chin nod while holding his cup up. Javier walked up and he slid a few singles across the counter to her.

Javier gave her a warm, “Thanks,” and winked at her. That was at least a harmless bit of flirting, in line with her bright smiles and her friendliness so far. If she liked it, great; and if not, then at least he hadn’t made her uncomfortable by asking for her number or hitting on her directly. When he said, “See you next week,” she smiled that bright smile back. Javier noticed that it again reached her eyes, lighting them up just a bit more than last time. A good sign.

The weekend dragged but Javier filled it up with errands: a run to HEB for groceries and to Highland Mall for a new shirt. If there was the possibility of a date sometime in the next few weeks he at least wanted to wear something other than his work clothes. Saturday night he ordered pizza and watched a movie on TV, some lame action movie with giant muscled guys shooting way too many bullets, and of course all the curse words and a sex scene edited out for network TV. Can’t let the kiddies hear the word ‘shit’ while they’re flipping channels, but watching Stallone blow a guy’s head off is good for their growing brains. He finished his pizza and a cigarette and then felt that tug, the loose ends, a little bored.

Javier took a shower and his mind went to the pretty barista, that smile, the sparkly eyes. He thought about those eyes looking up at him through her lashes, or down at him from on top. He wondered what her skin felt like, imagining the rest of her naked, spread out, touching him all over. He felt a little bit creepy touching himself to the thought of her, hoping it didn’t make him a bad person, hoping he would see her again on Monday. But fuck it, he needed the release. Javier came, spurting hot in the steamy shower as he leaned his head on his forearm and groaned into the cold tile wall. He wished he at least knew her name.

Sunday Javier slept in and then did laundry, tidied up the apartment, and took a jog around the neighborhood. He tried to talk himself out of a repeat of Saturday’s shower. It didn’t work.

On Monday Javier lit up as soon as he stepped off the bus. The first week of the consulting gig had gone well, but today was a big meeting and he knew the agency was not going to like his recommendations. He was constantly trying to quit, but at least he had cut back recently. He was down to a pack a day and only one cup of coffee. That had to count for something, right? Maybe his doctor would finally get off his back about that.

He smoked as rapidly as he could on his way to the coffee shop, and stubbed the cigarette out as soon as he reached the big window that overlooked the street corner. He tucked his sunglasses into the top pocket of his blazer and opened the door to the coffee shop.

The pretty barista was smiling, looking right at him and already holding up his cup of coffee like a game show model holding a prize. Javier felt his heart give a little squeeze, and he smiled and winked at her again as he approached the counter.

“You psychic or something? Or am I just that predictable?”

“Both, maybe.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him and gave him a toothy grin.

Javier opened his wallet and saw that his smallest bill was a $10, but he decided not to ask for change back. She was attentive to her customers, she had surprised him by having coffee ready, and she was cute. “Great service, keep the change.”

Her face lit up and she turned to put the money in the register. Javier turned and exited the front door, and then decided to look back through the big plate glass window. She was looking at him, and Javier realized that meant that she had watched him leave. He hoped he wouldn’t have to tip $10 every time to get that look. He lifted his cup, nodded at her, and then made his way to the office.

Tuesday she had his coffee ready again, so he gave her another wink with his smile, and he thought that she purposely put her fingers in a spot to touch his as she handed the cup over. He paid with a $5 bill again, and then thought about her smile and her touch all the way to the office a few blocks north. He didn’t want her to think that the overtipping was him trying to come on to her; it really was nice to have his order ready to go every day.

On Wednesday she had his coffee ready again as soon as he walked in, but Javier supposed that was a testament to the bus schedule more than his own punctuality. This time he paid with singles. But he didn’t want her to think the smaller tip was because of anything wrong with her customer service, so he smiled a little more warmly, turning the charm up as much as he dared without just outright hitting on her. He noticed she was looking again through the glass as he left. But of course the only reason he knew that was because he had looked, too.

On Thursday Javier decided that it wouldn’t hurt to flirt a little more obviously, but to give her an out in case she wasn’t interested. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or fuck up his supply of good coffee, so he decided to take it a little slow. When he got to the corner he glanced into the window of the coffee shop and saw the pretty barista looking right at him. He took that as a good sign that she might be receptive to his flirting. He opened the door and let someone exit, then walked up to the counter. She pointed at his cup sitting on the counter in front of her, smiling that bright smile.

He arched an eyebrow up. “You trying to get rid of me? In and out so quickly?”

She grinned at him. “Depends on how long you were planning to stay. We close at 1:00 a.m. after open mic tonight. After that you gotta go somewhere else.” That was the most that she’d spoken to him yet. Javier decided to take his chance.

“And what time do you get off, after the morning shift?”

“Depends on who’s asking.” She winked and then bit the inside of her lips, like she had said something she shouldn’t have.

Javier decided to be direct. At least that would give her the chance to say ‘no’ if she wasn’t interested. He locked eyes with her and said, “I am.”

He was relieved to see her flash that big smile, all pretty soft lips and sparkly eyes. “I finish at 1:00, after the lunch rush.”

“Good to know.” He stuck his hand out to shake. “I’m Javier, by the way.” She continued to smile as she gave him her name. When she took his hand she gave a good firm shake, not like one of those women who went limp as soon as they shook a man’s hand. Javier liked her even more.

He fished a few bills out of his wallet. “Can I maybe stop by after your shift, take you to lunch sometime?”

“You can do me one better than that.” She reached down to grip the lid and spun the cup. He saw her name and seven digits scribbled in Sharpie. “My phone number’s on the cup.”

Javier gave her the eyebrows, very much enjoying how direct she was. It was nice to get a clear signal from a pretty lady, instead of having to play guessing games and worry about overstepping. He pursed his lips and nodded in approval.

“You do that for all your customers?”

“Just the best tippers.” And there was her pretty smile and her wink again, so soon after the first one.

Javier decided to give her both barrels. He put his hand out again, palm up instead of a handshake. When she put her hand in his he lifted her knuckles to his lips and pressed a soft kiss, giving her a look from under his eyelashes before he let go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Javier picked up the cup and left, and gave her a warm smile through the glass as he walked away. As soon as he got to the office he jotted her name and the number on a scrap of paper and tucked it into his wallet. He felt hopeful in a way that he hadn’t for a long time, and he rolled the cup endlessly between his palms while he considered his options. Options. Something he sometimes had taken for granted in life, until those moments where they suddenly ran out.

Javier drained the last of the coffee and then scribbled over her number with a Sharpie before tossing the cup in the trash. No sense in letting her number out into the world where some creep might find it. He smoked his third cigarette of the day out on the plaza and thought about her smile, the brush of her fingers on his, the way she approached him directly. He could use a friend in town, one who wasn’t a guy at the agency or an old college buddy. One who was soft and sweet and might be open to a date… or more. He checked his watch and calculated the hours until 1:00 p.m.

Normally he wouldn’t go back to the coffee shop until tomorrow morning, but it wouldn’t hurt to pop back over there today at the end of her shift, see if she wanted to grab lunch, right? He hoped it wouldn’t scare her off, going back so quickly. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray by the lobby door and jogged back up to his office, taking the stairs two at a time. He wanted to finish up, get this meeting over with, see if he could get over to the coffee shop before she left. He sat in the meeting, watching the clock hands spin slowly, listening to someone drone on about a budget issue that didn’t impact his work, and which could have been a memo in the first place. He felt his irritation creep up the longer the meeting went on.

Finally the meeting closed and Javier hopped to his feet. He told Bill he was headed to lunch and then jogged back down the stairwell instead of waiting for the elevator. He walked the few blocks to the coffee shop, keeping an eye on his watch. He hoped he wouldn’t miss her.

When he got to the coffee shop he opened the door and let his eyes adjust to the dim light for a moment. And then he saw her, slinging her bag over one shoulder and coming out from behind the counter. Javier smiled.

She stopped a foot away and smiled softly, “Hey.”

Javier realized he was still wearing his sunglasses, no wonder it was so dark. He took them off and slipped them into his blazer pocket. He really hoped she wouldn’t think it was weird, him coming back so soon.

“Hey, I’m glad I caught you. Are you busy, or can I take you to lunch today?”

Her face lit up. Good sign. “No, I’m not busy. I’d love to go.”

She gestured out the big window, “There’s a sandwich place around the corner, and a park we can go sit in.”

Javier felt his face split into a wide grin. “That’s perfect.”

---

Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

The only tag list I have: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis

#pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x you #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro stories

114 notes · View notes

jamespotterthefirst · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Observation

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.5K (sorry again!) Warning: None Author’s Note: The coffee house scene from book 1, chapter 7 from Ethan’s POV.

Catch up here.

_______ A rational man would keep his distance.

But Ethan discovers, with some dismay, that he is nothing close to a rational man because he finds himself in her presence again. This time in line at his favorite coffee house and at his own invitation.

“What's your poison?” he asks, unsure of what else to say as they wait.

Lilac looks up at him, quirking her lips in thought, the gesture entirely too lovely.

“Surprise me,” she tells him at last, breaking him from his wandering thoughts. “I trust you.”

His chest swells at the words and he clings to them for a second longer. The smiling barista waits patiently and Ethan schools his features with practiced expertise.

“I’ll have the Vienna and she’ll have…” He glances down at her smiling yet intrigued face as he considers what to order for her. In the span of a second, he recalls the cloud of misery swirling over him that morning as he marched towards Naveen’s room, feeling as helpless as ever. Until she found him, kind eyes piercing him completely as she said, “I wanted to ask how you’re doing.”

“...the espresso Romano.”

Lilac’s brows furrow with curiosity but she doesn’t ask. Instead, she hurries to dig her credit card out of her purse. “I’ll pay.”

With a shake of his head, he places a hand over hers, gently pushing it back.

“Don’t even think about it,” he says, shaking his head again when she opens her mouth to argue. The barista smiles fondly at them, her bespectacled eyes falling on their joined hands. Abruptly, Ethan jerks it away, feeling his neck flare with heat.

“I know how much interns get paid,” he adds quickly, inwardly grimacing as soon as the words leave him. His addled, panicked mind blurted them out in a misplaced effort to appear nonchalant. God, why was he such an imbecile around her?

After he pays, he leads her to his usual table by the window. Lilac settles in her seat with an easy comfort that he almost envies.

“Do you come here a lot?” she asks, glancing around appreciatively.

“Fairly often. Sometimes I need a moment where nobody needs anything from me. No one here recognizes me, no one cares who I am.” He vaguely gestures toward the many patrons around them. Many of them rush out in a hurry, caffeinated drink clutched in hand. Others occupy the bar stools or tables, too engrossed in newspapers or screens to pay them any mind. The only eyes on Ethan are a pair of striking green ones, watching him with silent admiration.

He ignores the pleasant swoop of his stomach. “Thirty minutes with a good roast and a new book works wonders. I didn’t bring a book, however, so I suppose you’ll have to entertain me.”

He meets her eyes in the charged silence. Lilac's lips begin to lift in a smile, a sure sign she is accepting the challenge. Just then, however, the friendly barista arrives with their drinks. Lilac observes the curly lemon twist adorning hers with amusement.

“Lemon, huh?”

“Espresso Romano is a double espresso with sugar and Meyer lemon, both squeezed into the brew and rubbed on the rim. It brightens the espresso and cuts the edge off the bitterness.” Once again, his mind travels to the icy dread in his stomach earlier as he walked down the construction zone towards Naveen, almost too afraid to face him. Before he can dwell on it, Lilac's gentle smile captures his attention, as incandescent as the beams of the sun burning through fog. “Try it.”

Keeping true to her declaration of trusting him, she takes a sip. Her eyes light up as the flavor hits her tongue. “Hey, not bad! Certainly an interesting mix of flavors.”

The reaction is entirely too pleasing to Ethan, so much so that he rants, “Just don’t ask for it in Rome. It’s a misnomer, and they won’t know what you’re talking about.” Ethan stops with a private cringe at the senseless rambling. Bravely, he adds, “But I thought you might like it.”

Her eyes light up with interest.

“What made you think that?”

The question is entirely too coquettish to be innocent.

“Simple observation.”

“So what, you’re studying me?”

A swift flush travels from his neck to his ears.

“I study everyone, Rookie. I observe everyone. As should you,” he deflects. “In fact, that’s one of the reasons I most enjoy coming here. The clientele can be… intriguing at times.”

To his surprise, she wrinkles her nose in distaste.

“No way, I like to tune out the whole world,” she explains. “If I have a good book, I’d rather be curled up on the couch with a blanket. I don’t want any distractions at all.”

Ethan smiles at the impassioned declaration, realizing it coincides with everything he has learned about her.

“I suppose that’s fair. I mostly read historical nonfiction in what little spare time I have.” Lilac matches his smile with one of her own, perhaps knowing that much about him, too. “Being out in the world adds to the experience for me. Everything around us is part of the same fabric.”

What was he talking about? Ethan couldn't sound more like an arrogant ass if he tried.

He rushes on, “But the art of observation...it’s critical to our work as diagnosticians. You’ve already begun to understand that.” Ethan glances around the tiny but crowded shop until his eyes fall on a man around his same age. “For example… that man there, the one reading a book. He’s deeply troubled. Something’s gnawing at him.”

Lilac follows his line of sight. “How can you tell?”

“He hasn’t turned a page the entire time we’ve been here.”

Lilac stares at the man a bit longer to verify his claim. When the man continues to glance at the same page, she allows an impressed nod.

Ethan doesn’t have time to feel smug because as her eyes fall back on his, she fixes him with a very sharp and serious expression. Green eyes study him astutely, almost as if they can see right through him and conclude that something is gnawing at him, too. Could she read the anguish at failing his friend, weighing heavy in his chest? The grave set of her mouth as she studies him tells him that she might, despite his masterful efforts at keeping his emotions hidden. The beat of his heart spikes up as he remains motionless, transfixed.

Hastily, he tears his eyes away from hers, making himself busy with drinking from his mug.

“You give it a shot,” he prompts quietly, desperate to change the subject.

Lilac blinks but recovers by straightening in her seat. She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear as glances around. Ethan's eyes linger on the small tress she missed, falling weightlessly against her cheek. He has the wild urge to sweep it away, his calloused fingers lingering against the freckles that taunt him so often.

He is pulled from that silly fantasy by her imperceptible nod towards the entrance. A blonde woman, looking to be a few years younger than Lilac, rushes into the store, hand nervously tugging at her coat. Her hair sticks wildly in all directions, the back of it reassembling a nest of some sort.

“I think she got laid last night,” Lilac says casually.

Ethan's mug freezes halfway to his mouth. He is grateful for that or half of his drink would be sprayed all over the grinning young doctor before him.

“Come again?”

“That’s totally sex hair,” she explains wisely. At his aghast expression, she laughs and adds, “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

Their eyes fall on the woman now waiting for her order by the pick-up counter.

“Besides, that look on her face?” Lilac continues wickedly. “Pure satisfaction.”

Ethan's eyes fly back to hers. “What makes you so sure?”

“I know it well.”

Throat dry, he struggles to keep his thoughts decent with herculean effort. He wavers for a second, wondering briefly what a satisfied Lilac might look like, breathless, cheeks flushed, and looking at him through heavy lids.

Mercifully, Lilac is no mind reader, no matter how well she proves to read him. Her attention is on the woman, now making a beeline towards the exit with her coffee. They catch an undeniable glimpse of a sequined dress under her coat. No doubt worn to a nightclub the night before and worn again this morning in her haste to leave her lover's bed.

“Okay, you win that one.”

She brings her mug to her lips but the victorious smile is still evident in her eyes. The chime of the entrance door bell rings loudly over the acoustic cover of a Michael Jackson song playing through the speakers. Bearclaw Man strolls in and lines up at the counter.

An idea strikes as Ethan suppresses a euphoric grin.

“Try to top this,” he tells her. “Based on how he carries himself, I bet that gentleman is going to order two venti macchiatos, one with almond milk, one coconut. And, hmm…” He feigns deep thought. “Let’s say a bearclaw. To-go.”

As if on cue, Bearclaw recites Ethan's words verbatim to the barista. He couldn't have done it better if Ethan had paid him.

Lilac's mouth falls open comically. “What?! There’s no way you predicted that!” She turns to Ethan, at once sensing his stifled laughter. “That’s total B.S.! You cheated somehow.”

He stops fighting back and allows a deep, genuine bout of laughter, his shoulders feeling lighter somehow. “Indeed. That man comes in with the same order nearly every day I’m here.”

“So you were just trying to impress me.”

Busted.

“Hardly,” he lies shamelessly. “I’m trying to impress upon you the importance of observation and memory. My point stands. Observation is key. The subtle signals, the hidden details...all the secrets in plain view.” His attention is entirely on her, all pretense and humor gone from his face. She is watching him just as attentively. “Everyone throws a curtain over their lives, hopes it will smooth out the edges and hide the flaws...but the truth always shines through.” As he speaks, his words begin to lose steam, an earth shattering realization beginning to stir him as he looks at her. “Always.”

Neither of them breaks eye contact, maintaining the spell—the illusion of being the only two in that shop, mere feet apart.

“You just have to learn to look for the light,” he finishes quietly.

As he watches her, he can see a silent realization dawn on her face. Her eyes widen slightly with a multitude of emotion before she hurriedly casts her eyes away.

“Everyone?” she asks with pause. She seems to be mustering up the courage to meet his eyes again and when she does, she says, “You’re right. I know I always try to seem more together than I feel. If people knew what was going on inside… well, let’s just say it’s good they don’t.”

The finality in her words feels forced to Ethan, as though there is so much more she is not saying.

“Precisely. If you’re self-aware about it, at least that brings you one step closer to some sort of truth.”

It's as if the words are spoken by someone else. They echo in his mind as he finally acknowledges the inexplicable, maddening feeling that constantly pulls him towards her. At long last, he accepts it, recognizing he lost that battle a very long time ago.

Lilac takes another drink of her espresso as patrons mill about them, uncaring that the world had entirely shifted on its axis mere seconds ago.

“Alright,” she says after a moment, plastering a cheerful smile on her face. “Let’s up the ante. What do you see when you observe me?”

Ethan drinks the last dregs of his coffee as he thinks, studying her over the rim of his cup. The first memory that finds him is the night Dolores died and Lilac staying by his side like no one ever had before.

“You’re too selfless,” he says. “You care more about your patients than about yourself. One day, that’s going to get you in trouble.”

A heavy silence ensues in which he swears he can see brief shock cross her face.

“So how’d I do?”

Her answer is in the form of a courageous smile that doesn't entirely reach her eyes. “You’re way off the mark.” The taunt is almost credible but Ethan knows better. “Swing and a miss. Sorry, you’re completely wrong.”

He humors her with a chuckle. Kindly, he says, “I’m not sure I am.”

Very subtly, she straightens in her seat saying nothing.

“Now do me.”

This makes her almost choke on her espresso. After fighting back a small cough, that cheeky smirk makes a reappearance, much to Ethan's utter confusion.

Whatever that was about, Lilac doesn't explain. She instead scrutinizes Ethan thoughtfully, lush bottom lip caught in a bite. He's not certain what will kill him first, the sight of it or the anticipation of her response.

“You’re lonely,” she concludes.

“I am not lonely,” he returns at once. “I’m desperate for any moment to myself.”

“I’m not sure about that,” she deflects, waving a hand. “You could go read in your office on a break. But instead you come here to people-watch.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but the truth of her words catch up to him. Solitude had always been a rare gift for Ethan, particularly when so many people had demands on his time. He had always relished a drink in silence or the comfort of a book. He had never needed or craved companionship until… until the people he loved the most left his life forever— his mother, Dolores, and now Naveen.

Ethan meets her expectant gaze.

“Did you feel this way before Dr. Banerji retired?” she asks kindly.

Stomach clenching tightly at the question, Ethan stares at those knowing green eyes for a long moment.

“Well? Am I right or what?”

“As usual, Rookie, you’re only half-right. And in medicine, that counts for nothing.”

Lilac looks wholly unconvinced. When she opens her mouth, Ethan is certain it is to continue arguing the point. Mercifully, his pager interrupts.

“Come on, then. My pager is buzzing. We should be getting back.”

As they trek through the crowded streets of Boston, Ethan glances down at her, unable to suppress the half smile she inspires. She had definitely been wrong in her assessment of his loneliness because at that moment, as she smiles brightly back at him, he does not feel so lonely anymore.

_______

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! A bit shout out to @thegreentwin, @aestheticartwriting, @apphia12, @chasingrobbie, @vallerwhoas, @mvalentine for the title ideas!

_______

tags:

@dulceghernandez | @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing

251 notes · View notes

merigreenleaf · 3 years ago

Text

Colorweaver (Book 1) antagonist fic thing

(It’s been something like two years since I wrote any new words. I’ve worked on the series off and on, but struggled hard with brain fog, and narrative? Wasn’t happening. But I’m back to working on book 1 and I have a sneaking suspicion that this draft is going to need a lot more pantsing than I, as an obsessive planner, have used before. Today I pushed myself to start at the very beginning, before book 1 actually starts, to pull this from the antagonist’s POV. Probably all spoilers, but eh, that’s okay. I’ve never hid that Feren was an ass lol)

Feren scowled at his once-muse from the other side of the street. It didn't matter that he wasn't trying to hide. Adair was the most oblivious person on the planet. Besides, flirting with that dopey-looking Protectorate would take all of his focus. Once Adair got on a roll with his puns, he wouldn't stop for anything. Feren knew this all too well. He was also pretty sure he knew the Protectorate, but not well enough to remember his name. This guy truly was a nobody.

The Protectorate laughed, obviously trying to get Adair to take him upstairs. Feren's scowl turned into a glare. Adair was his, even if he technically wasn't.

(More)

Feren had done everything right. He kept an eye on Adair to make sure none of his dates or friends-- it was never easy to tell which, with Adair-- took advantage of his naivety. He gave Adair space. Not that all the space was intentional. It had taken Feren weeks to find out that Adair was working on his grad project in Silveridge. He'd only found out because something tugged at him one night. He'd dropped the mop in his hands and rushed out the door to see Adair munching away at something as he turned the corner. So Nina had known Adair was around and hadn't bothered to tell him. Typical.

Somehow he always knew when Adair was close. Once he'd assumed it was a sentinel link forming early, but that was disproved when Adair broke up with him. Not the first or second time. Feren still held out hope then. But by the fifth time, he knew. Whatever it was that connected him to Adair wasn't a link. Nina would call it obsession and she would be wrong. It was simply watching out for someone he cared about.

So Feren gave Adair time to come to his senses and come back, like he'd always done before. Only this time he didn't. He was avoiding him. He had to be. That was the only explanation for not staying at the Artisans' guild, where Feren studied. Why pay for a room to rent when the guild was free? Who was paying for it, anyway? Amateur artists couldn't earn money, or at least they weren't supposed to. They were supposed to save their weaving for their project. Adair could be selling his mundane art, but frankly he wasn't that good. Feren could have done better, given the chance. If Nina was giving Adair money for something stupid like this, Feren was going to have words with her. They barely made ends meet at the cafe as it was. Sure, it looked like it was bustling, but it was just a place where low-ranking Protectorates-- like the loser Adair was grinning at-- hung out. She could have been assigned a better place where Feren wouldn't have to work if she'd just waited a few more years. But no. She jumped at the promotion as soon as she'd reached novice.

It wasn't fair. Feren should have had weaving like Adair and Nina. He came from a long line of Colorweavers and Savorweavers, after all. He didn't really want the stupid power and it seemed like it was more trouble than it was worth, but it would have meant more status than working as a glorified busboy and barista. And Adair had no right to be seeing other people, not when he knew Feren was right here. Well, not right here, right here. Feren checked again. No, he and the Protectorate were still giggling.

The flirting didn't matter because Feren had a plan. It was foolproof and a perfect way to get Adair to stay in Silveridge longer, which would give Adair time to come to his senses. If he could take Adair's project-- only to keep it safer than those useless Protectorates could-- Adair would see that he needed a reliable muse to look out for him. He had a plan laid out and everything. It would just be a simple matter of disabling the inn's alarm system. This would be a cinch. For once, Feren being so weaving-null that he practically came around the other side would be something other than a flaw. All he had to do was wait for Adair's "friend" to leave.

#writeblr #my writing #unexpected inspiration series #short story #UI POV: Feren #there is so much rust in this like I feel like I've forgotten how to write #but the more I do it the more it'll come back to me #are the people with food magic called Savorweavers?#it's been so long that I can't even remember my own worldbuilding lol #mostly sharing this just so I can hold myself accountable and hopefully be able to write again

8 notes · View notes

brittledame · 4 years ago

Text

Pairing: Semi Eita/Reader

Tags: Teen and up audience, Post-timeskip, Canon divergence, Coffee Shops, Meet-cute, Fluff, Musician Semi, University student reader, POV changes

Word Count: 6.6K

Summary: In which a broken coffee machine leads you to meet an attractive musician also inhabiting the only coffee shop near campus open at an ungodly hour. The lack of sleep and the stress of your assignment are eased by the nonsensical tunes the unknown musician struggles to compose a significant song. Unknowingly, you both indirectly help each other through mental roadblocks and inspire him to write a hit song. It wasn't until your next fateful meeting that you were able to thank each other.

Current situation aside, you were usually a diligent student. You preferred to finish an assignment at least a full 24 hours before editing and submitting it, rather than leaving it to the last minute and handing in a half-assed attempt. However, this one particular assignment that had crawled from the bowels of hell was the exception to your characteristic conscientiousness. The assignment had blindsided you, slipping under your radar as other more pressing assignments drew your attention away from it. Much like an ignored weed problem, under your wilful neglect it compiled into an unimaginable mess. There was no possible way for you to get this done without pulling a soul-sucking all-nighter.

Another exception to your quickly spiralling out-of-control life was the fact that your prized coffee marker in all its shiny black plastic glory after five long years has finally turned in its resignation of being used and abused by you. So not only were you frantically rushing this twenty-one-page report due in not even eight hours, your one source of liquid determination is completely off the books.

Standing before the hunk of useless machinery refusing to even turn on, you stood there in silence as you mourned the loss of a good friend and an alright cup of coffee every morning. This did not help your current situation and you knew that you would not make it without some form of caffeine and you refuse to take the final dive into the uni student life and take no-doze tablets.

No, you refuse go that low just yet.

Although they are starting to sound tempting as the harsh wind tugs at your clothing and nips at your skin like you weren’t wearing two layers in the middle of normally warm Spring night to make a trip to the only local coffee shop you knew of open at this ungodly hour of 2 am. A faint orange glow grows steadily larger with each hurried step. You rushed to both get out of the wind and continue the futile act of completing your assignment to a decent enough standard to pass the subject.

The high expectations you entered the semester with had all but been eviscerated at this point. You would be outrageously thankful to pass at this stage in the semester.

As you push through the door, you crush the unwanted thought of your academic score plummeting. Oh well. Que sera, sera.

Glancing around the small and dimly lit establishment, you were surprised to note that it wasn’t deserted. In total, there were three people inside, excluding yourself. Two being workers and the other being a figure sequestered to the distant corner of the small cosy shop.

Behind the counter sat a bored-looking barista scrolling on his phone and a person with a very familiar face wiping down the benches.

“Jin! I didn’t expect to see you at this hour.” You exclaim while walking up to the counter while simultaneously fishing out your purse from your bag.

Said brunette turned at your voice, smiling when he sees that his ears didn’t deceive them.

“Hey! Didn’t expect to see you right now, either.” He grins amiably.

You had to give it to him, even at 2 am, his friendly smile put your stressed heart at ease. That was the true power of one Jin Soekawa, asides from the heavenly caffeinated ambrosia he concocted.

“Yeah, well if my coffee machine didn’t abandon me in my darkest hour, believe me when I say I’d be at home in my pajamas.”

Jin laughs as he rings your total up without question and starts the process of making your usual order. A perk of visiting at least three times a week was getting to know the friendly day baristas. Placing the exact amount of change on the counter, you move down the counter to catch Jin’s words.

“I never took you for a night-owl.” You scoff and shake you head at him, noting the teasing glint in his dark eyes.

“I’m not,” you bemoan, “this is punishment for putting off a big assessment and thinking it wouldn’t take long to finish. And to top it all off, my main source of night-late fuel ditched me.”

Jin nods sympathetically at your whining, not wanting to disturb the other regular shop patron in his also stressed-fueled all-nighter.

“No one with sense would be up at this hour working.” The angry-looking brunette you’ve never seen before mutters loudly.

Jin looks at the male, thick eyebrows furrowed reproachfully. You raise your eyebrow at Jin, wondering if he always had to burn the midnight oil with someone that looked like they were ready to quit and walk out at any second.

“Don’t mind Yunohama, he’s just pissed that he got tricked into the graveyard shift by the manager along with me.”

His cheery tone contrasted greatly to the gloom surrounding Yunohama. Smothering the laugh that wanted to come out at their polar opposite personalities, you instead turn to cough quietly into your hand.

Your gaze locked with chocolate brown irises that even at this distance, you could tell were mesmerising. The male’s eyes widen as he realises he was caught staring at you and quickly turns away and busies himself with the papers littering the table.

Well that was odd.

You stared at the back of his head full of shoulder-length ash-blond hair, waiting for him to turn back around. After a beat, you shrug to yourself and turn back to a busy Jin.

“Do you mind if I grab a seat and start on my work?” You point a thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the seating area.

Jin nods his head and gives a cheery smile that didn’t fit the sleepy night-time atmosphere.

“Sure! I’ll bring it over when it’s done. It shouldn’t be much longer now.”

Shooting him a thumbs up, you hike the bag strap further up your shoulder and select a table to slowly lose your mind at. You end up choosing one that was about three tables away from the stranger, not wanting to intrude upon his stressed-out vibes. From the short glimpse you caught of his face, he seemed quite attractive. If you weren’t as tired or stressed as you currently were, you might have had the guts to sit closer and sneak subtle glances, but the sword of Damocles currently swung menacingly above your head.

As you walk over, you notice a dark blue Ashton-branded acoustic guitar leaning against the chair on his lap. You also notice him frantically scribbling down on paper, pausing and then staring at the paper like it insulted him. You file this in the back of your mind, saving it for a later time.

You almost felt sorry for the odd guy. If it weren’t for the burden of your laptop holding an unfinished assignment due in exactly seven hours now, you would spare some sympathy. Sighing, you plop yourself in the seat and quietly go about setting yourself up. Logging into your laptop, the not even half-filled word document met your weary gaze. God, even with the smell of coffee and warmth surrounding you, no motivation welled up like you hoped it would. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself for a long night-slash-morning.

Focused on your work, you failed to notice Jin coming over with your order, sitting it out of the way of your work with a quiet “good luck” . The cup of hot coffee was left forgotten as a decent-sounding ideas flashed through your mind unprompted. It was safe to say that by the time you did notice and started drinking it, it was lukewarm.

Grimacing after taking the first sip, you lean back in your chair and look at the ceiling to give your eyes a break. A soothing tune of random string plucking fills the air. For a brief second, you were confused as to when background music started playing, only to realise it was coming from the hot guy you caught staring at you earlier.

Attracting your attention, you glance over to his table. The guitar was now propped against his lap and lovingly cradled in his arms. The position accentuated his biceps partially concealed by white cotton V-neck tee, not that it stopped your appreciative looks. Fluorescent pink guitar pick in hand, the ash-blond musician continues to strum a few nonsensical tunes that your stress-filled mind failed to name.

As if remembering your existence, he whips his head around to meet your interested gaze. Flustered at finding you already staring at him, the male holds his hands out in a placating gesture.

“I’m so sorry! I should have asked if you were okay with me playing. I mean the baristas said it was okay but that was before you came in…” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his head.

Giving him a friendly smile, you shake your head.

“No, don't apologise. It’s fine.” You assure him. Immediately, the tension drains from his features. Man, the poor guy must have dealt with his fair share of assholes to respond so visibly at the prospect of pissing people off by playing out loud. That had to suck.

“Besides, who am I to deny the arts?” You continue, lazily waving your hand in the air.

He laughs at your unusual response, hands settling back into their designated positions on the instrument. The sound was completely unexpected. You sat there in shock as the rich-sounding rumble rolls through the air. Sure he was good-looking but damn, to have a nice deep voice on top of all that? He was truly blessed. To top it off, he gives you a smile that should be outlawed for how attractive he is.

Damn, awkward music guy was hot.

The belated thought had you flustered. Hiding behind your hand as you brush back hair out of the way, you recompose yourself. Meeting his gaze once again, you notice a twinkle that you didn’t spot before, confirming your initial suspicion of his eyes being mesmerising.

Blinking yourself out of the stupor, you inwardly scold yourself for staring at the poor dude that didn’t come here to get stared at by someone dressed in comfy clothes and a whole collection of lilac bags under their eyes.

Ignoring the questioning look you receive at your odd facial expression you unintentionally made, you turn back to your laptop and dive head-first into the report. It was a nice escape from the embarrassment that wanted to choke you at acting like you’ve never seen an attractive person before.

God your tired self was an embarrassment.

He continues on playing the guitar, now strumming out a soft lingering song that soothed your frazzled mind and weirdly energised you to keep going.

From the very moment that you stepped across the threshold, bringing with you a wisp of chilled air that nipped at his nose, Eita could pick that you were an overworked university student.

Your lilting voice filled his ears as you had a friendly chat with the amicable barista. He ignored the noise as he stared at the blank manuscript paper before him, frustration bubbling within him. This was the seventh attempt at writing the final song for their break-out album in just as many days. An invisible clock hovered over his head as the hours tick by, closer and closer to the deadline their production manager had set.

The other songs came so freely to him - serving as an outlet for the experiences he’s had or heard about from close friends and family. But this last song? It fought against him tooth and nail, refusing to be put on paper. Eita had a vague concept and a tune, but the words evaded him. That was the most frustrating part really, but it happened to the best musicians so it shouldn’t surprise him that writer’s block finally hit him like a truck on a foggy night. Hard and seemingly out of nowhere.

Eita wanted the final song on their first album to be about his last relationship, as conceited as it may sound to some. He found it was the best way to close that messy chapter of his life. It was never fun to be strung along whilst your partner was looking at - loving - another, and yet refusing to let him go. Plus, people love break-up songs and their up-and-coming band needed something to round out the alternative rock songs they usually played.

Fragmented and incomplete thoughts filled his mind as you continued chatting, now with the mean-looking barista joining in. Easily pulling his attention from the anger-inducing blank white space, Eita gets a good look at you now that you're standing closer. Wearing comfy-looking clothes and a tired expression, you looked like the poster child for the average student and yet Eita felt inexplicably drawn towards you like a magnet to its opposing pole.

Unexpectedly, you turn towards him, catching him in the act of checking you out. Eyes clear despite the tired lines etching into your face, lips pulled into a slight smile that had his heart miss a beat. Okay, wow. Maybe he’s been out of the dating scene for far too long to react like that. Breaking the eye contact, Eita whirls back around in his seat and starts messing with the papers spread before him to feign being busy.

A hot blush seared across his cheeks as he mentally groans at his inappropriate behaviour. The cute university student probably thought that he was a creep now, great. While Eita wanted to do nothing but bury his head into his hands and scream until his throat was raw, the blank page laying innocently there taunted him.

God damn it. He hadn’t felt this frustrated and inadequate since high school. No one wanted to revert to their high school selves. Scrubbing at his eyes, all Eita wanted from tonight was a simple song, that was all. Nothing more. Nothing less. Yet it still felt like a herculean task. The picture of his ex with a fake expression of hurt rises to forefront of his mind unbidden.

Ah yes, there were other times he'd experienced this intense frustration. It hurt to walk away from the first real relationship he’d been in, but she was bad for him in a lot of ways that he was blind. That was until his friends lifted the rose-tinted love goggles and pointed out each and every red flag he had missed.

Suddenly, Eita was struck with the perfect words to encompass the maelstrom of emotions within him, namely bitterness and helplessness.

Not wanting the words escape him , Eita captures them with frantic hands. Scared of their ephemeral nature, here one second and gone the next. Those few words grew into a verse, much to Eita’s elation. He still needed a chorus and an outro, but the intro was looking fine and Eita knew not to push his luck.

Reaching for his guitar and pulling a pick from his jean pocket, he gives his prized possession a quick strum. Judging it in-tune, a few warm-up melodies are played as his hands move without much thought.

Looking back at the sheet of paper sitting before him, incomplete but much better than before, he suddenly notices that the sound of your rapid typing in the background has stopped. Panicked at annoying yet another person angry at the world, Eita turns around quick enough to instill the fear of whiplash.

Met with your inquisitive look, he’s glad to see that you’re not frothing with rage like how some of the less-forgiving people get with his playing. After awkwardly apologising, he concludes you’re not mad in the slightest, instead giving him a weird response and shrugging off his disjointed apology.

There was definitely more than meets the eye with you. Even while being obviously exhausted, you were still kind to him, a stranger, while rushing to complete what he can only assume to be an assignment of some sort. From the short conversation, he couldn’t get a proper gauge for your personality, although he somehow just knew that you would have the most fascinating stories to share.

Eita fails to notice your flushed cheeks due to his laughter, instead he was admiring how your eyes wrinkled at the corners as a smile lit up your entire face. It was entirely too cute for him.

Abruptly, you turn away from him and return to your work, eyes fixed on the screen and furiously typing and clicking away across the room. Bewildered at your sudden change in mood, Eita leaves you be. Following your example, Eita turns back to his own business. There was a reason that he was in a deserted coffee shop in the dead of night, or more like morning at this point. He had work to do and a lot of it.

Despite that, he couldn’t help his eyes straying towards your figure as he strums out one of the first songs he learnt on guitar. From the corner of his eye, Eita notices at how the harsh light of your laptop highlights the exhaustion the soft lights of the shop smoothed out. Concerned at how tired your eyes looked, Eita knew that the coffee you sipped at was not doing its job to chase away the threads of tiredness that threatened to pull you under.

His examining looks go unnoticed by you, surprise, surprise. From what he overheard earlier, it’d make sense that a final assessment would take precedence over one’s self-awareness, not that he knew what that felt like. From how exhausted and slightly panicked you looked, he was glad he didn’t submit to his parents pestering, instead filing straight into the work force while he worked on his aspiring music career.

A sudden scene took his mind hostage, not letting him go until he payed it attention. Muses were odd like that, one minute he was daydreaming about his life’s choices and the next he sees you physically deflate in your chair as you hit a mental roadblock as he blows past his.

Hand possessed with words that filtered so fast through his mind, he couldn’t afford to process them as he messily tries to immortalise them onto paper before they leave him forever. Like the opening of flood gates, abstract scenes flash before his mind’s eye, constructing an intricate life for the unknown person before him and likening them to moments in his own life. You looked tired, overworked and under pressure to complete whatever you were toiling over.

Eita vaguely wonders what brought you to this coffee shop at this god forsaken hour. Was your roommate being too loud? Were you working through a bout of insomnia? Maybe you wanted to get some decent coffee while getting ahead in your course?

Whatever the reason, Eita is thankful for the pure happenstance it was for fate to place you before him. Before you showed up, exasperation was clouding his mind and creating minute tremors his hand. It was never a good mindset to have when puzzling together a significant song for both his band and his own closure.

Slowly, the disjointed verses and chords became stanzas and melodies, forming a fully-fleshed out song before his eyes in what seemed like a blink of an eye, but was most likely a few hours. Reading over the words and chords, Eita mentally sings the verses and then hums the chords out loud, checking that it flowed and it wasn’t a chaotic mess like the last iterations turned out to be.

Smiling at the fruits of his labour, Eita mentally pat himself on the back for persevering and not caving into his band mate’s insistent offers of assistance. They were all versatile in this industry and each had multiple roles within their rag-tag group. The least Eita could do was offer to compose the songs for them to play. Writing them was also a good outlet, he found. Since high school, he’d composed a few short jams, not that they would ever see the light if he could help it.

Pushing his joy back to regain focus, his eyes flit over to your hunched over figure. Even after all the hours that have passed, your fingers still tirelessly flew across your keyboard before pausing and correcting a few spelling and grammar mistakes as you go. Sending you a telepathic “good luck”, Eita once again picks up the instrument with the intent of playing what hopefully will be the final version of this song.

Now knowing that you wouldn’t mind his playing, he went ahead without holding back. Eyes following along with the keys written down, fingers plucking and strumming away at the strings. The notes blend together and softly swells and peaks with each repetition of the chorus. While he knew that you didn’t mind his playing, he didn’t want to distract you, so he mouthed the lyrics as he played.

The last chord hung in the air before fading into nothing. There were a few places that could use a few alterations, either a change in pitch or pace, but all in all it was a decent song accounting for the fact that it was written in less than a night. Now all it needed was a name.

Coming up with an appropriate name was always the hardest part of the process, Eita thought. Typically, if an artist wanted their song to be found easily, it was best to name it after the chorus. Scanning over verses and chorus, he pauses over the words ‘honey go home’.

Eita didn’t even have to turn around to know that you were running on fumes. If he had the confidence to strike up a proper conversation, he knew he would voice this sentiment to you. Pushing aside the thought, he writes the potential name in the top margin with a query next to it.

The song itself needed approval by the rest of the group and by their production manager, but he was overall very proud at completing it under the pressure of a dreadfully close deadline and the absence of a muse. That was, until you walked in.

Without even realising it, you served as the catalyst to the intense emotions that Eita felt in that futile relationship.

That wasn't to say that you reminded him of her. From what he could tell, you weren’t like his ex in the slightest. In fact, he was tempted to say from your short interaction and mannerisms that you were the polar opposite to the stiff and stand-offish demeanour his ex possessed. Still, you somehow triggered a part of him that he’d been unknowingly out of touch with since his break up. it was freeing in a sense, a weight lifted off his shoulders.

Calling it a night, Eita begins to pack up his mess of papers and stack dirty coffee mugs. Organising the sheet music into neat piles, he tucked the newly composed song in a sleeve separate to the half-baked songs written earlier on in the night. Throwing the folder and other miscellaneous items into his tote, he briefly wonders about when would be an appropriate time to message the team and notify them of his success. Checking his phone, Eita was not surprised to see that he stayed up so late from how groggy he felt. It definitely feels like almost six in the morning.

Tucking his phone away in his pocket, he grabs the bag and slings his guitar strap over his shoulder. Without even realising it, Eita looks back over to your table. Still in the exact same position, now with a half-empty cup of coffee cooling by your elbow as your emptily stare drills into the word document before you click something and fix whatever mistake you could find. From your unhurried pace, Eita assumed you were in the editing phase of the assignment, close to the end.

He was tempted to walk over to your table, to both say thanks and to get your name. You didn’t know how thankful he was of your presence obliterating his two-week long writer’s block and he wanted to make you aware of it. If he just so happens to offer to thank you over a drink or dinner and you accept, then that'd be a bonus of getting to know you.

As Eita walks towards the exit, he still tosses up whether to approach you or not. As he nears, you sigh heavily and message your temples, signalling that maybe you weren’t in the best of moods to make friendly conversation. That’s alright, Eita thinks as he bypasses your table at the last second. He really didn’t want to be the cause of breaking your focus, especially when you looked so done with life right now.

Like a fool, Eita lets the opportunity slip trough his fingers. Sparing you once last look over his shoulder, he pushes the door open and leaves the shop just as the sun kisses the horizon with her golden rays.

As he makes his way home, in the back of his mind he hopes that you get to go home soon to get some well-deserved rest.

Watching the monster document upload slowly on the café’s slow wifi was torture in and of itself. Sipping the last dredges of the cold coffee, you stare unblinkingly at the loading bar, hoping that it wouldn’t pop up with an error and terminate the upload. If that happened, you were going to scream. And maybe break something. You’re sure Jin wouldn’t mind so much. He knew you would pay for whatever damages you caused in your hysteria.

A small green notification confirms the upload and gives a receipt of your submission. The time stamp was enough for a cold sweat to break out along your skin. Ten minutes longer and it would’ve been late and you would've receive a big fat zero for it. The professor was an asshole to have that stipulation, but you were well and truly too exhausted to be angry at this point.

Shutting down the device, you recline back in the chair and swivel your neck that was stiff from holding it in a weird position for hours on end. God, your whole body was aching from unconsciously holding tension for the entire night.

The faint sunlight filtering through the windows suggest that it was time to pack up and get some much-needed sleep before your class today. Mid-day classes were the best, you cheered. Thankfully you’d be able to get at least a few hours before having to survive the rest of the day. You still had other assignments and module quizzes after all.

After neatly placing all your stuff away, you turn to seek out the attractive musician. At the sight of the empty chair he once inhabited, your heart sinks. You hadn’t even seen him leave, too wrapped up in rushing to submit before the rapidly approaching deadline.

Dismayed at the musician’s absence, you crush the unwarranted thought of being lonelier than you thought to fall for a stranger after a short conversation. If it could even be called a conversation since it was mostly him apologising.

Sighing out loud, you grab your bag and wave at Jin as you stand.

“Thanks for the coffee. You’re a miracle worker I swear.” Your compliment made him smile as he continued to sweep behind the counter.

“Good to hear that you enjoyed my coffee even though they were probably cold when you drank them.”

You chuckle at that and give a good bye as you leave the shop. The trip home was a blur in your mind. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow. As blissful unconsciousness enveloped you, the image of the ash-blond musician pops in your mind.

Eita was torn between cursing ever meeting you or thanking every god that existed. No that was a lie. He definitely didn’t regret meeting you. What he did regret was telling his prying room mate about the unexpected form his muse appeared as, after being asked how he pumped out a song so quickly.

Satori had a field day about his incompetence in asking for a someone's name.

“You have the looks and charisma of a modern day Adonis and yet you are the most awkward person I know when it comes to flirting.”

Eita had no grounds to defend himself. He knew he was hopeless when it came to dating. That was probably why he stayed so long in his last one, knowing how hard it is to put himself back on the dating scene.

“Yeah. I know.” He replied, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. It did nothing to alleviate the headache he felt coming on.

“Have you tried going back there to meet them again?” Satori looked at him questioningly while upside down from where he had his head thrown over the back of the lounge.

Yeah, Eita has tried going back there. All at varying times that he was out and about and had succumbed to the urge to go back there and see if maybe you were there. On his tenth visit there, he was sorely tempted to ask the barista with the thick eyebrows that you spoke to on that fateful night for your name. Common sense was quick to convince him out of that idea, he really didn’t want to come across as a creep.

Satori didn’t have to know all of that, though, so he stayed vague with his answer.

“Yeah I have, but they weren’t there.”

“Well,” Satori dragged the word out for longer then necessary and Eita felt his eyebrow tick in irritation. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Like Romeo and Juliet but with less death.”

Shaking his head at the analogy, Eita silently agrees with the flamboyant red-head. Maybe meeting you once was enough of a miracle that he should be thankful for and just accept his star-crossed meeting with you.

Still, he had a lot to thank you for. You served as a catalyst for became the most popular song in their first album, 'Honey Go Home' shooting up in the charts every passing day. Since then, they’ve been booking gigs left and right. Not that you ever knew it, nor would you ever since he hadn’t seen you since that fateful night.

A text from their manager pulls him out of the bittersweet reverie, notifying him of an impromptu meeting to cover the packed schedule for the next month. Running a hand through his hair, he contemplates if he had enough time to get dressed and grab something to eat along the way.

Judging that he could, but it’d be a tight fit, Eita shoots off into his room to chuck on random articles of clothing before heading out. He hears Satori snort at his outfit combination and ignores it in favour of beating the lunch-time rush.

By the time he makes it into the business district, Semi had a handful of minutes to spare to grab lunch before what he assumes is going to be a long meeting. Spotting a takoyaki stall not far from him, he was soon waiting in line with others that were won over by the delicious savoury smells permeating from the stall.

The order turnover was pretty quick, still he eyed the time on his phone’s home screen with worry. His band mates wouldn’t let himself live it down, hell he himself wouldn’t let it go. No one wanted to be that guy holding everyone up from going home to their lives. Generally, they all got along like a house on fire but with their recent schedule, it was hard not to want to spend lost time with friends and family.

Hearing his order called out, he rushed to collect the bag. There was no time to eat it now, so he’s have to eat during it, which wasn’t the worse thing to ever happen. Picking up his pace whilst answering a text, he doesn’t see the person he ends up crashing into, too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

They gasp as he slams against their back and start to tilt forward before he reaches out and pulls them by their shoulder to get back their footing.

“Sorry! Are you okay?” His eyes sweep down the person’s body, ensuring he caused no physical damage. As the person turned around to face him, Eita met the face he'd least expected to see. Taken aback, Eita stared at you in shock as you mimicked him.

It was a humorous twist of fate that he would quite literally come crashing back into your life, after trying to find you for entire week.

It took you a moment to recognise him, trying to place his face to someone you met while his eyes roam your face. Once you do remember, you flushed at the close proximity of your bodies, his hand still clasped on your shoulder.

You both stared at one another as the world passes by, unknowing of the second fortuitous second meeting of the pair. Shock was the predominant emotion reigning inside of Eita, followed by gratefulness.

He suffered a full week of teasing from Satori and his band for acting like a hapless fool in love with some nameless person. There was no way in hell he was going to let you slip through his fingers again without at least getting a name.

“Hey, I know this sounds weird, but can I ask for your name?” He cursed the way his voice cracked at the greeting, wanting to scream at how awkward he was being again.

For whatever reason, it seemed that you were charmed by his latent charisma trumping his stiff question and you respond with your name. Testing it, he says it back to you and you respond with a nod at his pronunciation.

“What’s yours? I can’t keep calling you hot music guy.” You query in kind.

A light blush covers his cheeks at the compliment. He knew he looked good, people never failed to remind him, but it was always an ego boost when someone that made his heart flutter gave a compliment.

“I’m Semi Eita.”

He realises he was still holding your shoulder as they jump up as you silently laugh at his adorable blush. As if you burned him, he snatches away his hand as the blush intensifies. Eita was sure his face was bright red now.

“Well, hi Semi. I’m glad I got to meet you again. I wanted to thank you for playing that night, it really pushed me to keep working.” You glance off to the side, not meeting his surprised expression.

A soft, warm feeling fills him at your words. The power music possessed was a mysterious thing. To know that his playing had such an effect on you was incredible. It was extremely flattering.

“That's funny, because I actually wanted to thank you.” The words pour out of his mouth before his brain could catch up.

A curious look lights up your face and urges him to continue.

“In a round-about way, you inspired me –“ The shrill ring tone of his phone cut off his explanation.

Giving you an apologetic look, he looks at the screen and grimaces when he sees the contact name of his manager paired with the time. He was late already, so what was a few more minutes? He might as well shoot his shot, Eita concludes as he denies the call and meets your beautiful gaze.

Under the sunlight in light clothing for the warm spring-time weather, you looked stunning. The lack of tired lines etching your face and eye-bags soothes his heart, knowing that you got some decent sleep last night. It was weird how he barely knew you and yet he wanted to know if you got some sleep. Eita barely knew you and he craved being able to take care of you on those long nights when you were unable to do so yourself.

“Was that important?” You tilt your head at him and Eita had to refrain himself from visibly showing how much the cute action affected him.

“Ah, yeah, it kind of was,” Came his stilted reply. You bit at your cheek as Eita wanted to bang his head against a wall. What was it with him losing his cool with you around? Usually he was pretty good with small talk, or so he was told. His phone starts ringing again in his hand and he doesn't even bother to look at it.

Time had run out, it was now or never.

“Can I have your number? I’d really like to thank you when I’m not being rushed.” The words rushed out of him in a single breath, the split second of courage proving to be his downfall. As he regained that breath, he realised how fast he spoke. It was highly likely that you might’ve not caught them. Okay, now he was ready to bury himself alive.

R.I.P. Semi Eita.

Cause of death: trying and failing to ask for your number.

You stared at him blankly, mind taking a moment to process the word vomit, unknowingly watching him as he has an internal melt-down. His question suddenly hits you and it takes everything in you to not blush at the thought of a kind and talented musician asking for your number.

“Oh! You want my number?” You ask, pulling out your phone and pointing at it in question.

Relief sweeps away the embarrassment that threatened to surpass all logic and just leg it away from you and forget about ever meeting you entirely.

Not trusting himself, Eita nods. Pulling up a new contact and handing over his phone, you wordlessly do the same. Standing there filling out contact details, his accomplishment didn’t strike him until he thanked you and promised to text you soon after you urged him to get where he was needed.

While it wasn’t exactly the way he envisioned your first proper conversation to go, it did end with your name, number and a promise of a future meet-up. It was hard to keep the grin off of his face as he enters the room filed with unimpressed people. Once he explained his tardiness, the mood turned on its head as they gave him encouraging pats on the back and a few hair-ruffles that he batted away.

The entire time he sat there, his phone felt like a lead weight in his pocket. It took all his self-restraint to not text you right then and there.

In the end, it turned out you were the one to send the first text. If anyone saw the way he reacted to receiving that text as he walked out the building, he would refute any and all claims of him lighting up like a Christmas tree until the day he died.

Unlike asking for your number, it took a while for him to gather the courage to ask you out after a few easy-flowing conversations. With your enthusiastic response, he felt on top of the world.

Eita never made a habit of looking back at the past, arguing there was nothing one could possibly gain from doing so. Although, after the short few months since meeting and consequently dating you, he found himself often looking back to that quite night in the dimly-lit coffee shop. By all means, that stress-filled night should not have lead to him finding his other half. But as Eita had come to learn, even the mundane becomes extraordinary with you by his side.

Notes: I wrote this in a night and had to stop myself from posting it without editing because I have no self-restraint sometimes. Critiques, Comments & Notes are always welcomed!

#semi eita x reader #semi eita #reader-insert #fluff #meet-cute #haikyu!!#Haikyuu!!#haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu!! fic #haikyu!! reader insert #shiratorizawa #I couldn't turn away the idea of running into him in a coffee shop #musician!semi #canon divergence

52 notes · View notes

the-nubiest · 3 years ago

Text

Kortia: Out Of Touch

Summary: Adventurer was able to find a way to get back to Earth. But the way back, was to erase themself.

(Adventurer will still be the name to refer them)

(Also its 1st POV, I'm trying something different here)

(All of the LIs might have different names to fit with the modern setting of the story, but it's easy to figure out ;D)

---

"Adventurer! Get up! You don't want to be late for class!"

Jolting out of bed. I see my bed more dishevelled than it was the night before.

Did I have a dream really that bad? If it was, then it was a scary one.

Getting off of, grabbing a simple outfit. Getting my backpack, seeing my roommates preparing breakfast. "You think missing your first class after spring break is a good idea?"

Spring break? That only lasted for like 2 weeks. Yet it felt longer than that. Months, years?

"Hey... are you still tired? I'm not judging here, I'm also tired."

"What?" I shake my head, side to side. "No. Just felt like the break went on for so long. Like, very."

My roommate slightly crook their head in confusion, "The hell are you saying? People are saying that the break was way too fast. I gotta agree with that."

I wish to say something. But if I did, they'd laugh it off as a weed trip or whatever. That's what they always say about eccentric dreams. I mean. It probably was an eccentric dream.

Grabbing some bread, I run out of the door.

It's cool. With the sun's rays gently warming the outside of my clothes.

Trying to run through the various memories during the break.

Can't remember anything? That's odd.

In my head, I see a person with a helmet with an odd design. Now who is that?

Odd helmet...

Purple? Why that colour?

"Why isn't it Zach! How was your break?"

A motorcycle revs up near where I was walking. A man, wearing a black leather jacket with some coloured accents. He is wearing a helmet.

Taking it off, some parts of his hair fall on his head. It's dyed purple, with some black roots on top.

Greeting his friends, the man's eyes side. Looking at me.

Running where I was standing. Unknowingly watching them, he gives a smile. Kind of cheeky. "Hey! It's been awhile... hasn't it?"

The way he approached me, is like he knows me. "I'm sorry, have we met before?"

Zach's eyes kind of shake, "We have. I'm Zeno-"

"Dude. We got to go! Don't wanna miss our kinesiology class!"

"Oh right."

He grips onto his helmet. Going to the group of friends waiting for him.

One last look. Eyes are oddly solemn.

What a weird man. At least it's lunch.

Yet forgetting to pack one was stupid of me. Going back to my dorm is a bad time. Construction is blocking the short path, and the university subway is closed down due to incidents among the blue line. Which is the line I go on.

I hate this.

Having to buy from the cafeteria is also worse. My money is low. Just get a sandwich. That'll work.

Entering the building. Students crowd around. None sitting, usually leaving once they get what they want.

Where the hell is the sandwich?

Seeing the shelf where it's held, I lay my hand on it. But another hand is on it.

Pulled away, I see the person who tried to steal my lunch.

His hair is jet black, with blond streaking the middle. Seems like a bad dye job.

The guy chuckles. Adjusting his apron. Probably works at the cafeteria. Fixing his name tag, Kole. "Sorry. Was just trying to find lunch during my break. You can take it, Adventurer."

How does he- "Do I know you? If so, are you in one of my classes?"

He gives a sigh of disappointment, "You really don't remember? Do you? I'm Kor."

"Your nametag says otherwise, or that management got your name wrong."

"No. Well... I had to use the name of course. So I can blend in! The others are looking for you..."

"Who is others?"

Kor- or Kole looks at me. He holds in a breath. "The deal worked. Just grab your sandwich and leave. Thanks for coming."

---

People are odd. Two people come up greeting me like we have been friends for a long time.

Was that even a dream?

Entering a cafe, a barista offers to take my order. "Hello. What do you want to drink?"

"Uh... just a mocha latte. Add whipped cream on the top."

"Sure."

Few minutes pass, I'm sipping it carefully. The heat slightly burning the edges of my lips.

The bell rings. Someone came in. Being curious, turns to look.

A girl with pink hair with brown roots on top. She's wearing athletic clothing.

I feel like I have seen her before. Yet she seen me before.

Ignoring the line, she slips through. Walking where I was resting.

Giving a smile, "Adventurer, it's been a while! Dyclos will be so excited when he realised you're here."

Knows my name. Who-

Grabbed by the hand, the girl pulls me to the back of the cafe.

As we get there, a man with spiky black hair sips his coffee.

"It's been a while? Huh?" He gives a gentle smile.

Who are these- "I'm sorry, but I do not know why I am here. Who are you two anyways? Dyclos?"

"That's my name. The girl in pink is Varcia Florus."

"What?! Are you two trying to kidnap me?! Because I met two guys named 'Zeno' and 'Kor' who said they knew me."

The girl raised her eyebrows, "Oh, they found you! I didn't expect that."

What the hell is going on. "I'm sorry, but I am leaving this place. You guys are like stalkers or something!"

Dyclos stands up and blocks my exit, "We are not stalkers. We are your friends. Back in Kortia. Before-"

Florus goes up to us, "Before it all went down. You sacrificed your memories to save us. They said the effect would not be this bad. They promised that you'll still remember us!"

"Princess, I'm sorry. I do not think they remember. I'll tell them."

"Dyclos. Don't you have magic powerful enough to get their memory back?"

"We are not back home! I can't make them remember!"

I push myself between the two, "What do you mean? Magic isn't real."

The man chuckles, rubbing his eyebrows, "We'll try to make you remember from the beginning. To get started with that. Let's get Luna to jumpstart your memory. If we can."

#kortia #kortia game #dulcet games #kortia dyclos #kortia florus #kortia zeno #kortia kor #theres no sequel #sorry

5 notes · View notes

aquidragon · 4 years ago

Text

Purple (Part 1)

Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: Spencer sometimes considered his eidetic memory a curse, however when he spots a gorgeous woman crossing the street with a purple ribbon, he can’t help but fall heads over heels for her. However, there’s more to her than it seems... Warning(s): Mentions of blood and alludes to violence Word Count: 2.2k A/N: Here’s my first ever x reader series! Thank you to @criesinreid for beta-reading this for me! (Part One: Here) (Part Two: x) (MASTERLIST) ---

---

Spencer Reid POV

It was a sunny Tuesday morning when I saw her, with beautiful h/c hair that was tied with a purple ribbon. Maybe it was because of the color, since purple was my favorite, but I felt like I was drawn to her. I watched with a rather stupid expression as she walked past me, with a wide smile from across the street. I felt my heart flutter and my face get warm. She was gorgeous. My eidetic memory allowed me to picture her smile and her shining h/c hair as she chased after her friends. After a few days, I caught myself imagining holding her hand and taking her out on dates. Would she like attending the library with me? What kind of genres did she enjoy? I could tell that she at least could read, since she was holding a few books close to her chest as she ran. I could no longer focus the book I held in my hands, the words seemed jumbled and scrambled. Nothing made sense, except for the woman that had blessed my very mind. The few seconds that I had my eyes on her, I couldn’t get her picture out of my vision. I let out a small sigh as I closed my book, allowing my mind to drift to her again.

“Pretty boy has got a crush.” The familiar teasing voice of my colleague joked from right above me. I looked up from my slouched position on the jet’s couch, I snorted, brushing over my lower lip with my tongue. “I-I don’t have a crush.” I responded, which I knew wasn’t convincing as Morgan laughed and took a seat beside me.

“Come on, you’ve been staring out into space.” He gently patted my shoulder, his dark eyes just dancing with playfulness. “So, who is she?” The older FBI agent asked, earning a small groan from me. “I told you I don’t have a crush.” I unintentionally let my voice lift up an octave, which gave away my lie. The look on Derrik’s face made me sigh and finally give in. “I saw this girl across the street from the coffee shop I frequent before work, Morgan she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” I knew it was rather dramatic, but it was true. “Well, did you get her number?” My co-worker asked, I shook my head sadly. “I didn’t get to her, she was running after some friends.” The sinking feeling in my chest began to drag down my mood. I suddenly felt like a dunce, how couldn’t I have just ran to her, asked for her name, her number, anything?

I cursed my inept ability to flirt, or talk to women in general. Looking at my friend made my brain begin to curse itself. I wasn’t as confident as Morgan, I couldn’t even cross the street to go after the girl that I was really fond of. This made me bring my hands up to my face, I dragged my palms over my eyes, I was much too tired to think too much about my hopeless attempts at relationships.

Morgan must’ve noticed my downwards spiral into hopelessness, because he patted my shoulder a few more times as the plane began to shake into the descent. “Hey don’t lose hope, she might live in DC, maybe you’ll see her again.” I looked up at him again, rubbing one of my eyes as the pressure rapidly changed. “How? Morgan I can’t just search DC for her, there’s 705,749 people that live in DC.” I challenged, hopelessness sinking deeper into my chest. I also felt frantic, I felt this paranoid need to find this woman again.

Morgan laughed, shaking his head. “Oh I know you Doctor Spencer Reid, you’ll find this woman.” Before I could respond with more statistics about the likeness of me running into a random person I hadn’t even met, the plane started to rumble on the runway. The rest of my team all groaned as they were awoken from their naps on the five hour flight we had just endured in Seattle.

After the plane was landed, I begrudgingly dragged my suitcase behind me towards the BAU offices. I wasn’t looking forward to doing paperwork, usually I could whisk through them with ease, but the nagging feeling in my heart made it impossible to think. All I could think about was her, and that purple ribbon that bounced with her movements as she ran. I scuffled all my paperwork back into a file, I would fill it out tomorrow morning, after my third coffee of the day. I was just about to leave when I heard the soft voice of my closest friend.

“Leaving so soon Spence?” JJ asked tiredly, I could tell that she was struggling to keep her eyes open. “Yeah- I’m too tired to do paperwork tonight.” I responded briskly, bringing up three of my fingers to rub one of my eyes. “Wow, Spencer Reid, too tired to do paperwork?” The teasing voice of Penelope came next, her entire body was limp and exhausted. I couldn’t help but crack a small smile, gathering up the last of my stuff. “Yeah-I have plans” I responded nervously. I couldn’t tell Penelope that I had a crush on a girl I randomly laid eyes on. I’m sure I could just tell the woman that the mystery girl owned a purple ribbon and she could find my crush within a couple hours. Tops.

“Ooo plans?” Garcia asked, a little bit of excitement glittered in her eyes. I opened my mouth to tell her that it was just a trip to the library, but Morgan stepped on. “Woah now Baby Girl, we can’t have our pretty boy here giving away his secrets.” He sent a wink at me, which made me chuckle. “I gotta go guys, see you on Monday.” I walked out of the office, heading towards the silver elevator that would take me to the main floor.

Now, I normally don’t believe in dream analysis. There’s just not enough evidence to prove that our dreams are somehow linked to ourselves. However, the events in my dream felt so unbelievably real. I saw the woman again, with her gorgeous h/l hair and sparkling e/c eyes. We were in a void, which reminded me of being underwater. My hair was fanned around my head, as if I was swimming. I looked back over at the woman, her hair was also floating around her pretty face. The purple ribbon was no longer on her head, but instead it was tied around her pinky finger.

“Spencer, look!” She spoke, but her voice was echoed, and sounded like a weird mix of voices. “We’re connected.” I blinked, confused. “Connected?” I muttered to myself, before I felt a tug at my pinky finger, making me look down. Just like the woman’s, a purple ribbon was tight around my finger, and led just to her pinky.

I let a joyous laugh bubble out of my chest. “I guess we are.” I looked back at the girl, she was now closer. Her face was slightly blurry, but it also seemed so clear. She seemed sad, from the way her hands floated over my shoulders. “Please find me.” The woman with the purple ribbon whispered, her voice softening. “I need you.” Then I heard gunshots, screaming, and a woman screaming for help. I moved to protect the girl, but she was gone, I was now in a decrepit looking house. I unholstered my gun, approaching the door where I heard the noises. Blood began pouring from the crack between the door and floor. I let out a scream.

And then I woke up

--- Y/N L/N POV

Any method to get away from my psycho family was a win for me. Even if it meant hanging out with my shitty friends from high school, who did nothing but cause trouble and get high. Now I didn’t really have an issue with people getting high, I once dabbled in it when I was in my early college years. I only stopped when I started to fall behind in my classes.

So today, I decided I was going to the cute little coffee shop I passed after stopping at the library. I’ve been in a desperate need for coffee anyway. Looking into the mirror of my vanity, I cautiously applied makeup to my face. Brushing a hint of blush onto my cheeks as I smiled at myself. I loved makeup, maybe it was because my parents never let me use it growing up. They believed it was “against God's will” or yadda yadda.

It didn’t matter anymore, I lived in my own shitty apartment, so I could do whatever I wanted to myself. After finishing up the last touches to my face, I reached over to tie my ribbon. I didn’t know why, but I was always drawn to the color purple, so I bought a lot of purple-colored accessories. My ribbon was my most prized accessory though, I could tie it in my hair in whatever way I saw fit.

So, I tied it in my favorite way before admiring myself in the mirror once again. I tried to ignore the subtle scars marking certain locations on my face, but I felt like my makeup covered them well. Feeling satisfied, I switched off the lights, grabbed my phone and headed out.

“Ugh seriously?” I exclaimed as I stepped outside, only to feel the subtle drops of rain on my hair. The coffee place was only a block or so from my apartment complex, and I really didn’t feel like digging for my keys again. So, I bolted, hurrying to the cafe as the rain started to pelt down harder.

Once I reached the building, I threw open the door and got inside. Breathing heavily, I searched my purse for my wallet and made my way over to the line. The line went by fast, I ordered my coffee and went to sit down right by the window. A storm had rolled in, I sipped at my beverage as I watched people outside scramble about in hopes for shelter.

One of them being a handsome lanky man that I swore I saw somewhere. He glanced at me from outside, through the window, and his face lit up. He swiftly entered the cafe, and made a beeline over to me. He didn’t order anything, but the baristas seemed to recognize him, one of them even waved.

“I-I’m sorry is this seat taken?” The brunette asked, breathlessly, as he stood behind the seat next to me. I shook my head, scooting my chair over so he could get into the one he wanted. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I asked, curiously, I swore I recognized him.

The handsome man seemed surprised, he took off his soaked jacket. “Uh, I saw you last Tuesday.” He mumbled, his voice squeaking a bit. I bit the corner of my mouth and observed him from head to toe. He was well-dressed, with a dark grey cardigan over what seemed to be a dress shirt and tie. He wore dress pants, but had two well-worn converse and two differently colored socks.

Suddenly it came to me, I had glanced at him as I rushed to catch up with my friends. I remembered that I really wanted to look back at him again, but had a time constraint. “Oh yeah!” I grinned, taking another sip of my caffeinated beverage. “I remember now.” The man seemed pleased at my words, fumbling with the ends of his cardigan nervously. “Oh, well, I’m Doctor Reid.” The man seemed like he wanted to shake my hand, but kept his hands as far from mine as possible. He nervously cleared his throat, looking at me in the eyes. “Doctor Spencer Reid.” Spencer gave me a hopeful smile, which I returned. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you Doctor, my name is Y/n.” I didn’t bother saying my last name, I didn’t want to be associated with it.

“No please, call me Spencer.” The fawn-brown haired doctor sounded tense. “No need to use formalities with me here.” He clarified, making me laugh. “Alright, alright. Spencer it is then.” When our eyes met, I swore that Spencer looked at me with so much intensity I thought I would explode. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to say something.

Ring

“Oh sorry lemme get that.” The doctor scrambled into his pocket, pulling out an ancient flip phone and answering the call. “What? Already?” He paused, listening into the call, I began to become more intrigued by the minute. His face fell, his once bright and handsome face turned into one that resembled haunted somberness. “I understand, I’ll be there right away Hotch.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, not bothering to suppress my curiosity. “It’s my-job.” Spencer answered sluggishly, making a face as he slid on his damp jacket. “Oh?” I watched as he scrambled for a napkin and he fished a pen from his satchel.

“Call me?” The honey-eyed man asked hopefully, after sketching out his number on the paper. I nodded, taking the napkin into my hand, scanning over the haphazardly written numbers. “Of course-” I responded, but Spencer was already halfway out the door. I snorted, slipping out my phone and typing in the man’s number. Now THIS will be interesting...

---

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #multiparter #spencer reid fluff #purple #criminal minds #reader insert #implied soulmates

110 notes · View notes

malaboos-bodacious-blog · 4 years ago

Text

Le Blue Cafe

Chase’s POV

I pull back my pink hair, and put it in a manbun, before I put on a blue apron. The café smells like coffee beans and carmel. No one’s here, being as I haven’t flipped the open sign, and it’s very peaceful. I sit in the silence for a minute longer before going to wash my hands. I come back out to the front and flip the open sign. Now, we wait.

~An hour later. 3rd POV~

Chase has served many pedestrians in the time an hour brings. He has to go to the bathroom, so he puts a little sign on the desk that reads: ‘We’ll be back, please take a seat while you wait!’ in neat cursive writing.

Chase comes back out to the front and sees only one new face. Said person stands up and goes to the counter, when they see Chase.

“Hi, what would you like?” Chase asks in a kind voice.

“Just a black coffee, bitte” The person says in what seems to be German accent.

“And can I get the name of the man who likes it rich?” Chase says jokingly for the fun of it.

“Henrik” Henrik says chuckling.

“H-e-n-r-i- ck or just c or just k?”

“Just k” He answers smiling.

“Okay, I had a feeling that’s how it was spelled, but I wanted to make sure” Chase says smiling.

“One black coffee will be with you momentarily”

“Danke”

“Du bist willkommen” Chase answers. He took German when he was in highschool instead of Spanish like a lot of his classmates. Henrik smiles wider and Chase gets the coffee pot going. Anyone who was in the shop has left, only Henrik and Chase are left. “Do you mind if I change the music? Pop music gets old after an hour.”

“I don’t mind. And I agree zhat pop music gets old after a vhile.” Hen says leaning on the counter.

“Perfect. I’ll be back. I’m going to turn off the music in the speakers.” Chase says as he goes into the back. The cheesy song that was on stops. It’s silent until Chase comes back. He grabs the now done coffee and pours some into the cup that has 'Henrik' written on it. “Here you go.”

“Danke” Henrik says as he takes a sip. Chase goes on his phone, probably searching for music.

His eyes light up as he taps on the song he’s found. Some sort of African chanting starts coming out of the phone’s speakers. Then a man starts speaking. Henrik knows this song. It’s Parasite Eve by Bring Me The Horizon. “A man of good taste”

“You listen to Bring Me The Horizon, too?” Chase says happily shocked. Henrik nods and takes a sip of his coffee.

‘Really we just need to fear something

Only pretending to feel something

I know you're dying to run

I wanna turn you around’

Chase claps happily. He starts to sing along. “Please, remain calm, the end has arrived

We cannot save you, enjoy the ride”

“Zhis is zhe moment you’ve been vaiting for

Don’t call zhis a varning, zhis is a var.”

“It’s zhe Parasite Eve

Got a feeling in your stomach cause you know zhat it’s comin’ for ya

Leave you flowers and grieve

Don’t forget what zhey told ya, ayy ayy

Vhen ve foret zhe infection

Vill ve remember zhe lesson?

If zhe suspense doesn’t kill ya

Somezhin’ else vill, ayy ayy

Move”

“I heard zhey need bettah signal

Put chip and pins and needles

Quarantine all of zhose secrets

In zhat black hole you call a brain before it’s too late

Really ve just vant to scream somezhing

Only pretend to believe somezhing

I know you’re baying for blood

I vanna turn you around”

“Please, remain calm, the end has arrived”

“Ve cannot save you, enjoy zhe ride”

“This is the moment you’ve been waiting for”

“Don’t call zhis a varning, zhis is a var” Henrik sings, but Chase doesn’t pick it back up again.

He just looks at Hernik with an extremely happy smile. He starts bouncing and clapping.

“You have an amazing singing voice” He says, the clapping has stopped, but the bouncing is still there.

“Danke, so do you” Henrik says, blushing a small bit. They don’t know when they moved to sit in one of the booths in the coffee shop, but they did. Henrik looks down at Chase’s phone on the table and sees the time. “Scheisse, I have to get to vork. Zhis vas fun…” He looks at Chase’s name tag “Chase”.

“Oh, really? Well, can- can I have your phone number so we can maybe do this again?” Chase asks nervously.

“Oh, of course!” Henrik says as he takes his phone out of his jacket’s inside pocket. He may be able to remember the most intricate way to save someone’s life, but he can’t remember his own phone number. Henrik reaches for Chase’s phone, but he doesn’t pick it up. He looks at Chase for permission and Chase nods.

Henrik picks up Chase’s phone and searches for the contacts app. He finds it easily and makes himself a contact. ‘Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein (bmth cafe)’ is what he put himself as. “Zhere ve go”

“Thanks, good luck at the hospital, doctor” Chase says smirking

“Danke, good luck vizh zhe coffee, barista” Henrik smirks back and gets out of the booth, heading for the exit. “Have a nice day, Chaser!”

“You, too, Henrikku!” Chase says back as he goes back to the counter. Henrik waves as he exits the cafe.

Today is a day he’ll remember.

Le Blue Cafe became the meeting place of the two many times. Mostly because of the convenience of Chase working there.

And the coffee.

Tags:

@basiloaks @leobashi @bapbee @spudmcloughlin @n-anon

#schneeplebro week 2020 #Le Blue Café | Meet Cute #oh hey look a story #chase brody #henrik von schneeplestein #schneeplebro

8 notes · View notes

opaljm · 5 years ago

Text

want you to be mine (m) | teaser ii – kth

➻ female reader x taehyung

➻ college/university!au + roommates to lovers!au + biochemistry major!taehyung + english major!reader + so much pining

➻ genres: mostly angst, some fluff, this entire thing is romance, smut

➻ length & status: 2k; teaser ii

➻ rating & warnings: 18+; sexual fantasization, male masturbation, male receiving hand job from female, male receiving blow job from female

➻ summary: Is it possible to be in love with someone you’ve never met? Or to be in love with two girls at the same time? Or maybe Kim Taehyung has no idea what love truly is. But he knows one thing for sure, this is all Park Jimin’s fault for kicking him out of their apartment before their final year at university and making him move in with his girlfriend’s old roommate.

➻ a/n: Since I still haven’t completed this story, enjoy this completely R rated and entirely unedited teaser.

➻ disclaimer: While this story is written in the second person pov so that readers can insert themselves into the story, the female character has been given several specific characteristics such as dyed red/dark hair that is very long and she is shorter/smaller than Taehyung although specific height and weight is not mentioned.

⋆ my masterlist ⋆ teaser i ⋆

Opening the door to a darkened apartment, Taehyung again wished that he could have brought his dog Yeontan with him to university, but he recognized that his parents would probably be able to take better care of him than he could with his hectic schedule. He wondered what you were up to, but since you weren’t at the apartment… he took the opportunity to be a slob and slip off his backpack and his shoes, leaving a trail of clothes and belongings leading to the bathroom door where he stepped in to take a long hot shower to get rid of the weariness from the entirely too long day.

Shivering once inside the shower stall, Taehyung quickly turned the water faucet dials to be just below scalding and watched as the shower head above him let out a huge burst of hot water and the bathroom slowly filled with steam. As the water poured over him soaking his dark hair to the darkest black, he rested his head against the gray marble shower tiles you had cleaned two days ago.

He never expected his last year of university to be going this way. Jungkook and Seokjin had told him that he had been too harsh on Jimin; after all, Jimin had found him a new and better apartment. Yoongi and his friends were more reserved, they didn’t think Taehyung was wrong to feel his anger but Taehyung got the feeling that even Yoongi had gotten tired of how long he had let this run and that he had probably thought that he would have mended the bridges with Jimin by now.

With his eyes still closed to keep out the stream of water dripping down his face, Taehyung blindly groped for his shampoo on the ledge closest to him. His fingers grabbed it successfully but knocked over two other bottles which fell to the black tiled shower floor with a clang. With a frown he reached down and grabbed your matching set of minty shampoo and conditioner to set it back in place. It was strange that he had never seen you enter the bathroom. Did you take showers in the dead of night when he was asleep? Or did you plan your schedule in such a way that you were home in the middle of the day while he was off in his classes and took your showers then?

You were so strange, he thought bitterly. Why would you intentionally go out of your way to avoid him? If you needed him to be here so you felt safer, wouldn’t it be better if you actually got to know him? You were living with a stranger in your home. How could you possibly feel safe about that?

As he rinsed off the shampoo out of his hair and reached for his body wash his gaze fell on the body butter you kept in the shower to no doubt lather all over your body after the shower. He raised an eyebrow in wonder… was he actually contemplating it? As his hand inched towards your body lotion, he thought of the basket of clean laundry you would sometimes leave by the front door or in the living area, too tired to take it back into your room and fold it. He thought of the lacy bralettes and cheeky pairs of panties that always made like half of your laundry. He had not been tempted yet to go into your room that was always open like his, since none of the doors, excluding the bathroom’s, had any locks, but he felt like you had enough underwear to go through three months without running out and washing laundry. He was certain that you had more underwear than clothes since it felt like all you were ever washing was an endless array of underwear. He also knew you liked to wear thin cotton shorts and skinny jeans in every possible shade of blue and tight shirts in pastel and bright colors.

He knew enough about you that even if he knew nothing about what you looked like; he could still come up with a good mentalization of what you could look like. The long red tinged fallen stray hairs he’d vacuumed, made his faceless Y/N a burgundy haired angel that had wavy tresses falling to her hips. The clothes he spied in the laundry hamper made you have generous proportions. The size 7 shoes that sat next to his size 10 shoes meant that you were definitely shorter than him. As he slathered the citrus-y thick body cream over his length and grabbed his dick harshly, he was frustrated. While usually just being in the shower surrounded by the smell of your products was enough to bring him to the edge, he needed more today. He needed a face. He needed to know what color your lips were and how shiny they got when you licked your tongue over them. Was your tongue pointy? Did you have any piercings? What color were your eyes? And how did they look when you were full of hunger and lust?

Slowly your flickering image got replaced by the more definite and resolute image of his favorite barista, Vanilla. Your long red hair darkened until it was almost black like hers and it got pulled up into a messy bun. The fuzzy and nondescript impression he had of your face received sharp carefully threaded eyebrows that had a single silver hoop going through the right one. Your eyes were now dark and surrounded by nude eye-shadow and soft smudged brown eyeliner. Your lips became pouty and painted with brick colored lipstick instead of the sharp deep red he usually imagined. You tasted like coffee, sugar, and peppermint when he kissed you in his head. You and Vanilla were no longer distinguishable in his mind. He grabbed this new amalgamated version of you two close to him in his mind. She brushed her hard nipples against his chest and slid a hand down his water slickened body to his hardened cock.

Your— her hand was tight and unforgiving around him and you— she, stroked it relentlessly in a steady and fast manner. Up and down, her hand fisted his cock as she furiously rushed him headlong towards an orgasm. Just when Taehyung thought he couldn’t take it anymore she released her grip and sank to her knees in front of Taehyung. Vanilla didn’t have any tongue piercings so the girl in his imagination did not either. She took as much of him as she could. His cock hit the back of her throat as she bobbed his dick in and out of her mouth. She wrapped her fingers around his balls and tugged on them gently as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked his cock intensively.

A moan ripped out of Taehyung’s throat, echoing around the bathroom. He panted as he rubbed his fist around his shaft even more fervently and imagined her running her tongue along the underside of his cock to his crown where she licked all around the crowned tip like a lollipop before dabbing her tongue in his slit and taking his dick in her mouth all over again. The way she was looking up at him with trust and lust in her eyes as she passionately sucked his cock made him angry. He wanted to punish you. Punish Vanilla. Punish the girl in his head. He didn’t know anymore. He imagined himself fucking her throat until she was gagging on it and her mouth was messy with precum and spit. It was enough to finally take him over the edge.

Taehyung watched his cum shoot out of his cock in thick viscous pale streams, painting the dark marble tiles white before dripping down and getting washed away down the drain. He hurriedly washed up and wrapped a fluffy oversized towel around his waist before he stepped out of the bathroom. He had forgotten to bring a change of clothes inside with him. When he stepped into the hallway he was surprised to no longer see his crumpled clothes line it. Walking barefoot to his bedroom, he stopped in front of the door where his backpack was perched against it, with his clothes loosely folded on top of it. You had come home some time during his shower. Did you walk by the bathroom door while Taehyung had let out his passionate moans as you were picking up his clothes? His cheeks pinkened in embarrassment as he bent down to grab his things before entering his room. He was not going to leave his bedroom until tomorrow morning. It was the least he could do after making you pick his worn socks and boxers off the floor.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License

©OPALJM 2020

133 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years ago

Note

Do you have any fanficions that are very science-y, if that makes any sense? Like, focused on scientific things, in the writing style or actual experiments incorporated into the story itself? I hope I'm making sense

Hi Nonny!

Ahhh yeah, though a lot of the fics I read have it deep in the fic, lol. BUT!!!! Guess what?? Your ask is the lucky one that spawns a new list I’ve been waiting forever to post the next part for a tonne of new fics, LOL!

As always, gang, if you have a fic more tuned to what Nonny is ACTUALLY looking for, please add them here, LOL. Pt. 1 will have a lot more of what you’re looking for Nonny, since there’s a lot of my FFNet recs on that one, but both lists have great recs!! <3

IT’S AN EXPERIMENT! Pt. 3