#i’m on a roll with all this art you guys..i have so many works in progress im gonna become so fucking annoying

[elesketchii]

hate this guy

[tonycries]

Brooklyn Baby - G.S.

Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.

Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)

A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves* 

Art by @_3aem on X.

Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.

You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances. 

And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did. 

You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles. 

Whatever, part of the job anyway.

It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex? 

Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances? 

“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you. 

If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow. 

“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”

You were not jealous. 

Suguru knew you were jealous.

Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?

He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him. 

That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears. 

The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?

Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.

“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?

He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson. 

Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.

The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”

“Oh?”

“Wanna help me with it?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles. 

Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room. 

“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.

It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. 

“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously. 

“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.” 

In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”

“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.

He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.

Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over. 

“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers. 

You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings. 

Suguru was definitely losing his sanity. 

Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.

He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers. 

Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”

He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist. 

“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly. 

“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”

Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close. 

His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.

God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.

Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones. 

Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.

“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.

You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.

“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.

Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.

Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.

Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs. 

His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases. 

Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. 

The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him. 

You have no idea what you do to him.

Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive. 

“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display. 

You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you. 

He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.

Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers? 

Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.

Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.

“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.

You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.

Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.

He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside. 

Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.

Shit, he was really feeling it today. 

Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief. 

You were, too.

If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.

“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off. 

“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.

He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out. 

Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock. 

“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.

“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.” 

“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”

“Yes.” 

At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for. 

“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”

Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds. 

It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt. 

He just can’t get enough.

He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size. 

“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”

“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans. 

Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder. 

Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.

“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings. 

He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base. 

His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.

You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe. 

He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart. 

“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.

Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear. 

Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.

A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”

Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.

As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.

“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.

He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.” 

Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 

The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band. 

Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.

Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.

In this moment it felt like just you two in this world. 

You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else. 

Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point. 

“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer. 

“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips. 

“Be mine.”

And that’s all Suguru ever wanted. 

With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his. 

Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.

As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.

Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail. 

Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.

“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.

The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes. 

Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-” 

“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.

“Ah- um-”

“You-”

Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.

“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time. 

Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”

“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice. 

Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.

“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces. 

‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.

Blinding lights. 

Deafening screams.

Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.

Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. 

But he only wanted to fuck you.

A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[seonghwaddict]

not just a distraction — park seonghwa

in which it’s too easy for the new literature professor to pick a favourite.

literature professor!park seonghwa x fem!reader. genre. fluff, angst. warnings. LEGAL teacher-student relationship, implies age-gap, an argument, suggestive, nickname (baby, angel, doll, princess). wc. 10.4k. rating. pg-13.

lilo’s notes. this is my comeback yessss~ anyways, this is part 1 of 2 because the next part will have some… fun activities >:) i hope you guys enjoy this, i’m sorry for being so inactive for the past month but i have lots for you guys to look forward to! excuse any errors i did not proofread this.

listening to. training wheels, melanie martinez / angel, kali uchis.

masterlist.

the first class of the new literature course at your campus garnered the attention of quite a few of the students from the arts department.

there was, of course, a literature class that existed before that one, though a few students had been unhappy with it since the introduction of more contemporary works. the classic masterpieces, they thought (including you), should not be bunched together with colleen hoover.

with enough pressure, the faculty were able to introduce a new course; classic literature. the few students unhappy with the initial course switched into this course instead, delighted by the fact they were allowed to keep their previous credits. a completely new teacher had been hired too, stirring anticipation. all you knew of him was his name, given in the description of the course when you signed up.

so you found yourself in one of the many lecture halls, around fifty others surrounding you. when you walked in, the new professor was at the long chalk board at the front, looking down at a book in his hand while the other wrote something down. you tried catching a glimpse of him, but his positioning faced him away.

but from what you could see, he was quite slender. his grey slacks, neatly ironed, were secured around his hips by a thin black leather belt. his white button up seemed a little large, though it complimented him well, tucked into his trousers with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms elegantly—his blazer, a grey matching his slacks, shucked off and placed around the back of the chair at his desk. you could also see his hair was dark, a slight waviness to it, a little longer in the back.

finding the most convenient seat, you chose to sit in the left-most seat on the second row, next to a girl you recognised but couldn’t remember the name of even if you tried.

you catch a glimpse of professor park glancing down at his watch, prompting you to do the same. nine in the morning, on the dot.

“literature,” he starts, underlining the bold word on the chalkboard before turning around. and you nearly choke at the sight of his face.

he’s handsome, almost impossibly so, and a lot younger than all your other professores. dainty glasses sit atop the bridge of his nose, carefully placed strands of his hair framining his face as he begins pacing in front of the seats, making sure to look at each students individually.

“it’s many things, but at its core, it’s all about the manipulation of language. language, simply put, is food, nourishing literature. and so, with the intricacies of the art, literature becomes one of the sweetest passions known to man. because what is it if not love and hatred and disgust and every indescribable feeling thrown into a melting pot of prose.”

his voice is captivating, making you feel just a little lightheaded as you listen to his passion intently, all precise words and confidence as he paces, his hands clasped behind his back. you’re hanging off his every word, watching as he stops by his desk to place down the chalk.

it isn’t after a few moments that you realise you were admiring his hand, how it moves to elegantly. the way his fingers gently curl around the little white stick is almost artistic in itself.

he turns around, resting his hips against the edge of the mahogany desk behind him, legs crossed at his ankles and arms crossed over his chest. his eyes scan the room as he continues speaking, occasionally locking with yours. “is it not poetic? how morphemes, for example, or adjectives or conjunctions are the morsels of literature, small parts that are put together to create meaning? of course, something may be described in one word, but there’s something quite magical about being more metaphorical, more intimate.”

he catches you leaning forward in your chair slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips at how captivated you look before he schools his expression. but his focus is quickly redirected when another student raises his hand.

“yes?” professor park pushes himself off the desk, clasping his hands behind his back.

“professor,” he begins—you recognise him as a jock that calls himself dylan, but you know it’s not his real name and he’s probably here to fulfil a requirement to keep him on the volleyball team—his tone incredulous, “don’t you think all this romanticisation of literature is a bit dramatic? we don’t need fancy words to describe everything.”

professor park arches his eyebrow, a soft huff escaping his nose as he took steps in the direction of dyland’s seat. “dramatic? perhaps,” he nodded, eyes fixed on him, “however, as a literature professor, i enjoy the romanticisation of it. my job is to introduce others to the passion that is literature, and therefore i will romanticise it all i wish… what is your name?”

“it’s, uh, dylan?”

his eyebrow quirked once more as he gave the jock a once over, evaluating him. “i see… well, dylan, have you ever felt the rush of emotion when reading something truly spectacular? have you ever read a sentence and felt it like a punch in your chest or a sudden breath of fresh air?”

dylan’s opens his mouth to respond before he is interrupted with a raise if professor park’s palm. “think before you answer, please.”

you nearly laughed at his baffled look, never having seen him so silent, pondering the question for a moment before answering. “well, yes i have.” he answers honestly, earning a nod of approval.

“describe that feeling for me. can you find the correct words to explain the way you felt in that moment?”

dylan tries to explain it the best he can, but your teacher only shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “close, but no. see, it’s difficult putting into words such strong emotions no matter how many synonyms of ‘joyful’ you use.”

he turns away from him to address the rest of the class. “and that is the beauty of literature—it can be used to describe the most indescribable feeling, stringing together individually meaningless words to create something so much more.”

you smile at that, enjoying the link he made. your eyes meet for another moment, a split second that made heat rise to your cheeks under his perceptive gaze. but you blink and his pretty brown eyes are gone.

he takes a moment’s pause, glancing over at the clock in the room before finally addressing the rest of the class again. “i want an assignment from each of you by next class that demonstrates the true beauty of the language we know. it can be anything you feel like writing. a short story, a narrative, an essay, a poem,” his eyes flick over to land on you once again, “i want to see the feeling you want to convey in this written form. and i don’t just mean the happy feelings—get raw and descriptive. write something from the heart.”

the class is dismissed and you pack up your things, heading out but not before trying to catch another glimpse of him in the moving horde of students.

though you hadn’t noticed it, throughout the lecture his eyes lingered on you as well. of course, there were so many students for him to focus on, but none of them seemed quite as captivated as you. judging by the evident fascination on your face as he spoke, he knew you understood every word he said. unlike dylan, apparently.

the next class is on friday, four days away. you take that time or write the assignment. instead of writing a story or a poem, you decide on writing an essay. something where you can really write without the constraints of sticking to a plot. when you’re not in any of your other classes, you’re at your shared house, writing. and if your roommate is being too loud, you take the short bike ride to campus, sitting in your usual corner in the library, also writing.

by the time friday comes around, it’s ready and you’re happy with it, confident in your works as you walk into the lecture hall between some other students. you follow them as they stop at his desk, placing their papers on a stack of other turned in assignments, following suit before sitting at the same seat as last time; far left, second row. this time there’s more people sat at the front, whispering and giggling as they gaze at the professor.

he’s sat at his desk, a similar suit to last like on except a beige colour. his glasses are off and placed on the wooden desk, a book partially obscuring his face as he reads and waits for it to be nine on the dot.

he can vaguely hear the students talking amongst themselves as he reads, but he doesn’t pay it too much mind. it was normal. a lot of his students found him attractive, and that was clear just by the way they talked while he was around. after a while, he glances up at the time, noting it was almost time for class to begin.

he closes his book, setting it off to the side before standing up behind the desk. his hands clasp behind his back.

he glances around the room as more students trickle in and take their seats. he notices you at the second row almost immediately, and he can’t help the small smile that crosses his face. he lets his eyes roam over you for a second before he looks away, noticing the other students chattering in their seats. he clears his throat, loud enough to make them stop and look at him.

“good morning, class.” he says loudly, glancing around once more before resuming, “i’ll be looking over your assignments after class, but for today i’d alike to talk about some literary devices. i know this is classic literature and you’re all expecting to be reading classics, but some groundwork should be set before we jump into analyses. for example, can anyone tell me what a hyperbole is? any guesses?”

he scans the room, as if challenging one of the students to answer. the students in the class are quiet, no one wanting to take the challenge. he hums after a couple minutes and walks around to the front of the desk to lean against the edge of it.

“no one? how about you,” he suddenly says, nodding to you.

you blink, taken aback by the fact he chose you in the sea of fifty-something students. after clearing your throat, you simply say, “an exaggeration, sir.”

he gives a small nod of approval, a smile accompanying it. he expected you to know it, one of the most basic terms in the subject, but could he really be blamed if he just wanted to hear your lovely voice?

“that’s correct. a hyperbole is an exaggeration. it’s also a useful tool in literature to convey specific emotions. i’m sure you’ve come across sentences such as... ‘i could kill him’ or ‘i can’t believe it. this assignment was a literal death sentence.’” he adds the last part in a joking manner, and the few students in the room who were paying attention let out a quiet bout of snickers. he gives you one last small smile before moving on.

he spends the rest of the lesson talking about all sorts of techniques used to enhance literature and the effects they have on the readers. sibilance creates a smooth flow and double entendres are often used to amuse the reader.

nearing the end of the class, he instructs everyone to start on their reading of “the picture of dorian gray” by oscar wilde while he starts going through the turned in assignments. you pull out the book, having borrowed it from the library the other day. you’ve read it before, but it was entertaining enough for you to be willing to read it again, leaning back in your seat comfortably as you flip to the first page.

professor park gets through the first couple of assignments, grading them and adding comments here and there. he finds your essay on the third assignment, and glances up to look at you sitting at your seat, reading so serenely. he takes the time to look you over for a moment before his focus turns to your paper in his hand. he can’t help the slight curiosity as to what you have written, so he begins reading.

he can tell from the quality of the writing alone what kind of writer you were. not like the others, you weren’t rushing with each sentence. no, each word was well thought out, each word placed delicately in the paragraph. it was obvious you had taken the time to write it, and it was obvious that you enjoyed writing even before he finishes reading the introduction. there is passion in the way you laid out your paragraphs. the way it seems so effortless for such words to spill onto your pages.

he finds himself rereading some of the sentences and paragraphs, just to see the way you had worded things. the way you describe how literature can make a person feel could be compared to a piece of art itself. a smile tugs at his lips as he finished reading, having become completely entranced in what you had written. he wanted more, he wanted to read even more of your writing, see more of your passion, more of you. he had expected to have to read through mindless writing but instead he had been surprised by something actually worthwhile.

at the end, he writes a decently-sized comment, a perfect grade circled in his black ink right below.

as he dismisses the class, it takes you a moment to register his words and the people filing out of the hall around you. but once you do, you fold over the corner of the page you’re on and start packing away your items.

as the class is now empty, the only person left in the room besides himself is you. he watches from behind the desk as you pack up your things, noticing the slight hesitation in your movements when you glance towards him. he takes a moment to just watch you before speaking up, his voice firm and clear.

“stay a moment, if you don’t mind.”

you glance up at him before looking around, making sure he was speaking to you before you nod, taking the steps down from the second row to the first, standing at the end of the seats expectantly.

he picks up something from his desk before making his way over to you, his long legs carrying him effortlessly.

he studies your face for a moment, holding up the stapled stack of papers that were your essay. he takes in your features as he speaks, his tone softer now that you’re alone, “you enjoy literature, i take it?”

you glance at the papers before meeting his eyes again, heat rising to your face at the realisation that his full attention was on you. that he was standing so close, just a step away, looking down at you ever so slightly. you give him a nod.

he hums softly in acknowledgement, his eyes looking at your face curiously. he can see the flush of your cheeks clearly, the way you’re keeping your gaze averted from his for the most part.

he glances down at the paper in his hand, tapping it against his fingers gently before looking back at you.

“your assignment. i read it,” he starts, flipping through the pages absentmindedly to keep him from staring at you too long, “it’s quite well written, and i can see the care you put into the language of it. i enjoyed reading it.”

he watches as your eyes queen ever so slightly, a certain sparkle that does not go unnoticed by him; can see the gears turning in your head as you take in his words, your face growing to an endearing mix of shy and embarrassed. he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what he was feeling, couldn’t describe it in any way other than a bloom of warmth in his chest, akin to familiarity.

“oh, thank you, sir.” you smile at him lightly, having been worried you were in trouble and about to be in the receiving end of his scolding.

he hums again, still looking at your face. he can’t help the slight grin that forms on his face as he hears you call him ‘sir.’ he liked the sound of it coming from you. he glances down at the paper again before speaking again, holding the stack out to you.

“i should be thanking you, really. you seem to be the only one to have put some effort into it,” he gave you a soft smile before nodding towards the door, “you may go now, i’ll see you next class.”

you smile and nod, giving him a slight bow before straightening up again. “have a nice day, sir.” and with that you leave, making a beeline to leave campus since you didn’t have anything else to do for the day.

the next time you see him is on monday, in class. he teaches as usual, introducing some context for the book you’re all supposed to be reading. he doesn’t talk to you during the class, though occasionally his eyes find yours and you can’t help but think they soften ever so slightly.

soon enough, you pick up on the fact that you have a similar routine on wednesday evenings. usually, you stay in the campus library for a little longer on those days, whether it’s to read or to work. you like it then because there’s usually barely anyone there, the library big enough for the students that are there to disperse out of each other’s views.

you notice him on your way in, talking to the librarian with a stack of three or four books on the counter. but sometimes you’d see him at a table or couch, or browsing through the shelves. and each time you smile at the sight of him before making your way straight to the second floor, ducking between some bookshelves on the far end to sit in your usual seat.

this may be your favourite spot on campus, maybe the whole city. a little sofa tucked against a big window, two bookshelves—historical fiction—on either side hiding you from the prying eyes of your peers. at this time, the sunlight is just right, a copper glow feeding the two little plants on the windowsill and providing a warmth that felt like a blanket on a cold winter day. it wasn’t too bright, able to look outside without squinting your eyes, enough light to read comfortably. there’s also a little round table that you use to place your laptop on if you need to work, though often you push it aside, favouring to relax on the plush sofa against the soft pillow and get lost in the pages of whatever book you got your hands on.

he’s noticed you there before, on his way to pick up a book from the bibliography section, right next to the historical fiction section where you resided. he soon comes to notice your form among the bookshelves that he passes by, doing a double take before he forces himself to continue along his way. when he finishes the bibliography exactly a week later, he offers to bring it back to its previous spot; in reality, he just wanted to see whether or not you’d be there again.

and sure enough, you were. and he slows down in his movements, looking at the way you’re curled up comfortably in the sofa.

he finds himself watching you silently from a distance for a while, just watching you flip to the next page in your book as you lay comfortably against the pillow, to absorbed in the story to notice him. you look completely at ease there, he finds himself thinking. the sunlight from the window seems to caress your features softly, and a part of him wondered what it would be like to be the sunlight for once, to touch your skin so softly and admire the details of it.

he watches you for a while, taking in your expressions as you turn the pages, before deciding to make his presence known. he takes a step, his leather shoes clunking against the polished wooden floors, “mind if i join you?”

your eyes dart up at the sound of his voice, flinching as you were caught off guard. once his words process, you offer him a smile, nodding as you retract your feet from the sofa to make some space for him. “yeah, of course, professor.”

he smiles warmly at your reply, settling into the newly available space on the sofa. now sitting, he realizes just how small the space is. it’s a two seater, so he ends up sitting very close to you, his side pressed right up to the armrest to prevent from being pressed against you. he glances at your face, noting the small reaction you had when you weren’t expecting him to approach. cute.

he leans back a little to get comfortable on the sofa. it’s quiet between them for a moment, both of them looking outside or at their books. the silence isn’t awkward, he finds. in fact, he quite enjoyed it in such proximity to you. he turns his gaze to watch your face, studying you; the curve of your nose, your lips that are pulled into a frown ever so slightly as you concentrate. his gaze then flicks down, to your sweatpants-clad legs tucked under you on the sofa, and lower to the hand holding the book.

you sit together in silence for a while, reading your respective books. you can’t stop yourself from glancing up at him occasionally, however, just wanting to catch a glimpse of his soft hair or perfect plump lips or the slope of his neck.

but when the sun go too low and the lights too dim and you could barely keep your eyes open, you let out a soft yawn, stretching. he glances up, opening his mouth to say something before his throat suddenly feel to dry to produce any words, distracted by the arch of your back and the curves of your hips. you look so inviting.

“tired?” he manages to force out with a slight chuckle, watching you slump back into your seat. he has the urge to brush away the stray hairs that fall over your cheeks.

you glance at him, nodding as you pull yourself off the couch for one last stretch before gathering your stuff and facing him. “i should probably head home,” you mutter.

“alright,” he pushes himself off the couch, closing his book, “i’ll walk you out.”

too tired to argue and insist he didn’t have to, you just nod, turning on your heels to walk out of the shelves, waiting at the end for him. the walk is silent, holding your breath and heart thumping in your chest each time his fingers brush against the back of your hand as you walk side by side.

this became a new routine. every wednesday, you’d find him or he’d find you, sitting in the little brown leather couch. and you’d stay there together for a while, talking or laughing or working or reading. there was no longer an awkward space separating the two of you, happily resting against each other, far from worried that anyone would see.

neither of you mentioned it, but it was the elephant in the room. you didn’t know what to call it, whatever was happening between you. but it felt good, it made you want to cling to his shirt and bury your face into the warm curve of his neck and never let go. but you couldn’t, no matter how much either of you wanted to.

and as the lines between professor and student blurred, you found yourself looking forward to your wednesdays with him.

and so did he. still, he often thought about how he behaved around you, like it was a secret meant for him and you and you and him.

the way he would find himself sitting closer and closer to you. the way he’d find his gaze lingering on you for too long. the way his mind would wander on how it would feel to run his fingers through your hair, trails them along your thighs. oh, how badly he wants to feel your skin against his own. the idea of what he was doing was dangerous, foolish for someone of his position.

but it’s hard to care when you’re right there next to him, in the soft light that makes your skin glow, your face relaxed and content as you read beside him.

one particular friday evening, it’s pouring, and you’re standing outside under where the roof of the humanities building entrance protruded, protecting me from the rain. this morning you had decided to walk to school instead taking the bike, though you suppose it wouldn’t have been much better with a bike.

your shoes are already wet from the puddle you had accidentally stepped into on your way out, your clothes soaked from having walked into the rain for a minutes as you hug your messenger bag close to your chest.

he’s on his way to his car when he spots you standing by the doorway, and he frowns as he notices you, soaked from the rain that pours mercilessly. he glances around, noticing the lack of anyone nearby thanks to the weather, before making his way towards you.

he stops a few steps in front of you, opening his umbrella to block the rain above both of you. "what are you doing standing out in the rain?"

“i walked to school this morning,” you look from him to the pouring rain, just a step away, “didn’t check the weather.”

he takes you in for a moment, taking in the way your clothes are sticking to you, your hair slightly damp. a small part of him found it quite adorable to see you like this.

"you’re soaked," he says, his voice firm and concerned, "you’re going to get sick like this." as if on cue, a shiver racks through your body. he notices, his expression softening as he takes a step closer, offering his free hand. “come on, i’ll drive you home.”

“oh, you really don’t have to,” you smile at him, grateful at his offer, worried about getting his car wet with your clothes, “i can just wait here until the rain stops.”

his eyes narrow slightly, taking your wrist lightly. "don’t be ridiculous," he scolds, "you’ll freeze to death if i leave you here."

you blink at him, not used to being on the receiving end of his firm tone. his concern making the corners of your lips tug up, you sighed softly, nodding, “alright, lead the way.”

a small smirk pulls at his lips as he watches you relent, giving in to his words. he steps to your side, releasing your wrist and putting a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the parking lot.

he pulls a tissue from his pocket, unfolding it and using it to gently pat your face. you giggle softly at his attempts to dry your face, reaching one of your hands up to take the handkerchief, your fingers brushing against each other before you dry your face yourself, your other hand helping him hold the umbrella in the strong wind, hand a little lower than his on the handle.

he looks at you with a small smile as his hand rests on the umbrella’s handle, moving to cover yours. his hand is a little bigger and warmer than yours. but as he guides you further towards the parking lot, he notices you shivering again, the cold air starting to get to you.

"if you get a cold, it’s your fault." he teases slightly, pulling you closer to his side, making you stumble a little before you regain your footing.

“oh no, i won’t be able to attend your 9 am lecture on monday, whatever will i do?” you gasp dramatically, holding back a laugh as you joke around, instinctively glancing around in case anyone saw. but everyone was gone, rushing home in the midst of the downpour.

he lets out a low laugh at your dramatic response, rolling his eyes playfully at you.

"stop that," he chastises, his hand on your waist keeping you from falling. it was hard to miss the nervous looks your threw around, and he knew exactly why.

“hm?” you glance up at him as he stops in front of what you assume is his car. it’s a black mercedes, sleek and modern. you clasp your hands behind your back, tilting your head, “no idea what you’re talking about.”

he pushes open the passenger door of his car, gesturing for you to get in. he shakes his head slightly with a scoff, his gaze raking down your figure for just a moment.

“sure you don’t,” he says in a slightly teasing tone, “just get in the car, angel.”

you blush lightly at the nickname but shake your thoughts away, looking down at the leather passengers seat before looking up at him again “but i’ll get your seat wet and mess it up.”

it takes him a moment to process your words, distracted by how the flush of your cheeks makes you look even lovelier. the thought that he was able to make you blush like that because of a simple nickname makes him bite back a giddy smile.

he shakes his head. “i’ll take my chances. just get in, you’re shivering.”

you don’t move for a moment, weighing your options; get his seat a little wet, or walk in the rain. deciding the former is obviously the better choice, you thank him silently as you slip into the passenger seat, securing your seatbelt after resting your bag in your lap

he shuts the door behind you and circles the car, walking to the driver’s side. his steps are a little rushed, eager to get out of the rain and into the warmth of the car.

he gets in the car, pulling the door shut behind him before he looks over at you. you sit quietly, your head down and hands in your lap.

it’s silent for a brief moment before he speaks up. “i’m gonna need your address, you know.”

“oh, right.” you hum, leaning forward to the screen on the dashboard to type in your address. it takes some effort, your muscles mostly focused on your legs as you try not to seat my full weight in an attempt to not ruin his seat despite what he said earlier.

he says absolutely nothing, his gaze glued to the arch of your back. he swallows hard, clenching his jaw as he keeps his eyes trained on you, fighting the urge to reach a hand and touch you.

he clears his throat, “just lean back into the seat.”

before you can protest, he’s pushing down on your thigh until you’re fully seated. you give him a playful glare as you finish typing the address. it’s just over a five-minute drive, while walking in this weather would’ve taken you nearly twenty.

he looks at you with a chuckle, his hand still on your thigh, giving it a slight squeeze.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he jokes, giving your thigh a tap before pulling his hand away, turning the ignition on and pulling out of the parking space.

the drive to your place is quiet except for the sound of the rain outside. he has the heat on full blast to keep you warm. every now and then he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

the heat makes you shudder, holding your fingers up to the air to warm them up a bit.

he can’t help as his mind thinks of how cute you look, all bundled up with your bag in your lap. and the urge to touch you, god, the urge to run his fingers through your hair.

“we’re almost there, don’t worry,” he mutters as he tears his gaze away from you.

“hey, um,” you start after a few moments of silence, glancing at him, “if you want, you can come up and we could have some coffee or tea or something together. if my roommate doesn’t mind, which she probably won’t, she’s really nice so i wouldn’t worry. but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! i just, uh, wanna thank you properly… for this.”

he watches with a fond smile as you ramble, stopping at a red light. he’s about to accept the offer, tell you that he’d love to, but the realisation of your roommate being there changes things, his expression turning solemn.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea…” he mumbles, avoiding your piercing eyes.

your brows furrow ever so slightly, a frown threatening to override your features. “why not?”

he swallows, pulling over in front of the address you had typed into the gps.

“i’m your professor,” he starts, his tone firm, “it would be unprofessional if we’re caught.”

he hopes you can’t notice the way he’s gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary.

“that hasn’t stopped you so far, though,” you muse, chuckling lightly despite your confusion of his suddenly change in sentiments, trying to ease the tension.

“but don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that we’ve been sitting together in the library every week, completely hidden away?” he mutters, “if someone saw us, someone who didn’t know, it would look bad. this could be worse.”

“i thought you liked being there with me…” his words get to you this time, actually frowning as you turn to look out the window instead of at him, noticing you were in front of your house.

shit.

he mentally berates himself upon noticing the slight change in your expression, realizing with a pang of guilt that his words bothered you, having come out the wrong way.

“oh, angel,” he starts, letting go of the steering wheel. his hand reaches for you, and before he can stop himself, it’s cradling your face.

“i do. i like being with you there,” he sighs, gently pulling your face to make you look at him, his thumb caressing your cheek. “you have no idea how much i enjoy it.”

his touch on your face feels warm, and his words even warmer as his directs you to look at him. you don’t say anything.

he’s not used to this, to you being quiet and still. he’s too used to your carefree self being full of jokes and laughter. he doesn’t like you like this, looking at him with disappointment written on your face.

“what i meant is,” he murmurs, the pad of his thumb moving across your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes meet his, “i’m just worried about your roommate.”

“i like spending time with you, princess,” he continues, his tone firmer this time, “i like it a lot, alright?”

your frown eases at his words, nodding as you answer in a whisper, “okay.”

he lets out a small sigh of relief, his fingers tracing down from your chin to the side of your neck, and then your collarbone. he gently caresses your skin with the lightest of touch, letting the pad of his fingertip graze your skin.

he tries to ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him to tug you across the console and kiss you. he shouldn’t.

he shakes himself out of his thoughts, pulling his hand away reluctantly. glancing out the window, he sees your place right in front of him.

“we’re here,” he murmurs, looking back at you. his gaze softens when he sees the remnants of the frown still on your face, and his hand gently reaches out to give your thigh a light squeeze.

“come on,” he says quietly, “let’s go.”

you look out the window before nodding, unbuckling and stepping out, walking to your front door as he accompanies you with an umbrella. you rummage around in your bag, trying to find the keys. groaning as you realise you were in such a rush this morning you must’ve forgotten them in the bowl where you and your roommate place your keys so you don’t lose them. with a sigh, you ring the doorbell, waiting for her to answer.

but she never comes. and that’s when you realise she had the late shift at work today. you groan, frustrated as you thump your forehead against the wooden door.

great, he thinks to himself as he watches you struggle trying to get inside. and then you turn around, with a frustrated sigh, and a thump of the door.

he can’t help but feel like the world is against him. the universe wants to punish him, to test his limits.

he bites the inside of his cheek, watching you and listening to you as you mutter about your locked door.

“i don’t have my keys, my roommate isn’t home,” you explain, kicking the door light before burying your face in your hands, your voice a little muffled, “oh, i’m so sorry, hwa.”

he stands there, watching you explain your situation, and he fights back a smile at your last sentence.

hwa*.*

he likes it when you call him that. spending three months growing closer, you’ve evidently given each other little nicknames.

he glances over at the parked car behind him, before back at you. “do you need a place to stay?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral again.

“i don’t wanna bother you too much,” you shake your head, running your hands over your face “please, i can just wait here for her to get back.”

he doesn’t like how you’re trying to push him away. frowning, watching you as you shake your head and run your hands over your face in defeat. he closes the distance between you, taking hold of your wrists and pulling your hand away from your face gently.

“it’s pouring,” he reminds you, “your clothes are soaking wet. and you think you can just sit here on the front porch until your roommate comes back?”

“i don’t want to inconvenience you any more,” you murmur, your hands relaxing as he pulls your wrists away from your face.

his chest tightens at your words, at how stubborn you’re being. he sighs.

“you’re not inconveniencing me,” he insists, “i’d feel better knowing you’re inside with dry clothes and a warm drink than out here soaked to the bone.”

you contemplate his offer for a moment before sighing, nodding, “okay, if you insist.”

his heart nearly skips a beat at your agreement, and it takes all his willpower not to visibly show the relief that washes over him.

he tightens his hold on your wrist for a moment, before gently guiding you back to his car. he opens the passenger door for you, waiting until you get in before he shuts the door and circles around to the driver’s side.

he starts the ignition again, the warm air blasting through the vents yet again. you hold your hands in front of the hot air again, glancing over as you hear his door open and close as he slips. “in is it a long drive?”

he lets out a scoff, looking over to you with a teasing smile. “it’s a whole two minute drive. i’ll try not to bore you too much.”

he turns back to the window, pulling out of the parking spot. the rain starts again, and the sound of it pounds against window before he turns on the wipers.

“oh dear me, i can already feel myself falling asleep,” you slump your head back and pretend to snore, back to being playful.

he turns to look at you, watching your dramatics with a fond grin. “shut up, you,” he says, reaching out to pinch your side gently.

you giggle as he pinches your side, opening your eyes again to look out the window, watching buildings and cars glide past as he drives smoothly. true to his word, just a few minutes later he’s pulling into the underground parking lot of an apartment building.

he parks in front of a spot numbered ‘407’, cutting the ignition as soon as he does.

he glances at you briefly before nodding almost to himself.

“come on,” he says with a jerk of his chin, gesturing for you to follow as he gets out of the car.

his longer strides have him walking faster than usual, and it takes him a conscious effort to slow down for you to keep up.

he presses the ‘up’ button and the elevator doors part within seconds. he steps into the elevator, holding the door open for you to enter.

it’s a silent ride up. his mind is racing, though he doesn’t show it outwardly. his hands are in his pocket, and he keeps his eyes trained on the blinking numbers signifying each floor.

the elevator dings and the doors open and he steps out without looking back to see if you’re following, striding down the hallway, making a turn to a door marked ‘407’.

he fishes for his keys in his pocket, pulling them out before unlocking and opening the door as you look around the empty hallway, your gaze lingering on the mass-produced paintings hanging on the wall that he knows can be seen on every other floor of this building.

the apartment is spacious, with plenty of open floor space for the front room. the color scheme is simple and neat, with a large armchair and a small couch that sits in front of a flat screen tv, as well as a wooden coffee table.

he steps in, taking a moment to kick his shoes off and set his stuff down. he looks over his shoulder, watching you step into the apartment as he places his umbrella in the umbrella rack and hangs up his coat.

you grimace as your shoes squelch when you step in, muttering apologies as you take them off and leave them outside of the door in the hallway instead, not wanting to mess up his flooring.

he raises an eyebrow, watching you as you leave your wet shoes in the hall. he’s about to say something when he’s interrupted by the sound of a small meow.

a ball of black fur appears at his feet, nuzzling against his ankle, and he smiles, scooping the cat into his arms without a word.

he scratches behind the cat's ears as it purrs in his arms, the sound of its soft mews filling the room. he can see a hint of confusion on your face, watching the cat with interest as he holds it, its front paws resting on his chest.

"his name is kuma," he explains, bringing the cat up to his face and letting it rub against his cheek.

you nearly melt at the sight, stepping into the house with wet socks as you coo at the cat, the front door falling shut behind you automatically. “i didn’t know you have a cat.”

he has to physically stop himself from grinning as you nearly swoon at the sight of his cat, covering up his smile with a cough. he shakes his head, lowering the cat gently to the floor. it runs over in your direction, nuzzling against your ankles much like it did to him moments ago, before disappearing down the hallway into the heart of the apartment.

"i got him a couple months back," he says, taking in the sight of your soaked clothes once more. he lets out a sigh, tilting his head toward the hall.

he glances down at your feet, eyeing your soaked socks, before looking back up to your face.

"you can shower if you'd like. I can lend you some clothes to change into," he says, pointing down the hall toward the bedroom.

“oh, yes please,” you nod, relieved that he offered instead of you having to ask.

he nods and starts down the hallway, motioning for you to follow him. as you follow, you look around. just like his car, the design of his apartment is sleek and modern, glowing in warmth as he uses a variety of floor lamps and shelf lamps to light up the interior instead of headache-inducing overhead lights. the furniture and walls are light in colour, a variety of whites and beiges.

it’s an open floor plan, the kitchen and living grouped together, separated by a counter island and some stools. the countertops of the kitchen have a glossy white finish, everything clean. a narrow hallway leads to some three doors, which you assume are his bedroom, a bathroom, and guest bedroom or office.

he stops first in front of a door, where the cat lies on the floor, tail flicking back and forth. he bends down to pet the cat briefly.

"that's the bathroom. the towels are in there. I'm just going to grab some clothes for you," he says, giving you a quick glance before striding away toward the bedroom.

your eyes follow him as he walks away, before letting out a soft yelp at the feeling of something furry wrapping around your ankle. looking down, you realise it’s kuma, giggling as you crouch down to pet him.

he returns a few moments later, taking a moment to watch as you play with his cat so nicely before clearing his throat, making you stand back up as he hands you the stack of clothes.

“feel free to use whatever you need in there,” he nods towards the bathroom door, “you can leave your clothes in the basket, i’ll put them in the laundry later.”

“thank you, hwa.” you grin at him, accepting the clothing before disappearing into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

you shower with warm water, relaxing every muscle in your body as you wash off the rain. without any other choices, you’re left to use his shampoo. it smells of him, a deep vanilla. when you finish, you dry off and change into the clothes he brought, using your own previous undergarments as he obviously didn’t have those on hand.

the clothes are quite large on you, hanging off your body as you tighten the string of the sweatpants. you pat your hair partially dry with the towel before tossing everything in the laundry basket, stepping out to go to the living room.

only to see he wasn’t there. shrugging, you figure he’ll return soon as you flop onto the couch, kuma coming to sit with you after a moment. you sprawl out a bit as you realise just how spacious the couch is, the cat padding all over your body, playing with the drawstrings of the hoodie he gave you before curling up on your stomach.

meanwhile, he’s in the shower of his bedroom’s en-suite bathroom attempting to get himself together, both physically and mentally. the water feels amazing on his skin as it beats down on him, and he tries to relax his muscles as he lathers shampoo in his hair.

but his mind keeps going back to you, and how you’re probably already in his living room.

wearing his clothes.

he sighs, leaning his head against the shower wall as he tries to push those thoughts out of his mind. he stands there for what feels like hours, letting the hot water hit his skin before shutting off the shower and stepping out. he dries himself off, quickly drying his hair enough so that it’s not dripping all over his floor before he getting in record time, pulling on an old pair of sweats and a loose black shirt.

he takes another deep breath, opening the bathroom door as he ruffles his damp hair. he starts to make his way toward the living room, hoping that you’re just as nervous as he is.

he turns the corner and enters the living room, nearly freezing in his place at the sight of you sitting on the couch with kuma. you look good. comfortable.

by the time he makes it back, you’d be kuma are no longer sitting calmly, practically rolling around on the couch as you try to get away from the playful punches of his paws. he feels his heart flutter at the sight and the sound of your laughter.

there’s just something about seeing you getting along with his cat that makes his heart nearly skip a beat. he silently watches from the hall for a moment, just gazing at the two of you playing together before clearing his throat to make his presence known.

you look up at the sound, grinning at him stupidly. you glance at his clothes, noting that he’s wearing comfortable clothes now rather than his usual suits. “oh, hey,” you say between giggles as kuma continues to jump all over you.

his heart stutters at the sight of your grins and the sound of your giggles, at the joyful look on your face. he swallows, forcing his arms to cross over his chest to keep himself from reaching out and pulling you against him.

trying to appear nonchalant even though he’s having a hard time doing so, he walks over to the couch, standing at the end of the coffee table and looking down at you.

“seems like you’re having fun together,” he remarks with a slight nod towards kuma.

“uh huh,” you nod before squealing, covering your face as kuma’s paws swat against your cheek, attacking you, your stomach hurting from laughing.

he lets out a scoff, watching kuma pawing at you and your failed attempts to shield your face from the attacks. he can’t help but let a small smile settle on his face, his heart fluttering again at the sight of you two.

“he’s playing rough,” he comments with a smile, walking to the couch and plopping down beside you.

you crawl over to his other side, hiding your face under his arms as kuma chases, “help me, hwa.”

his heart skips a beat as you hide under his arm, ducking away from the harmless kitten. he can’t help but laugh, finding the situation both endearing and adorable.

“I think you can handle kuma, doll,” he teases, grinning down at you as you continue to use him as a human shield.

“he’s a beast,” you try to sound serious, your voice muffled against his sleeve as kuma starts attacking him instead.

“he’s not that bad,” he teases, grabbing the cat by his little body and lifting him up in front of his face, “see? look at this face. he’s not even one bit menacing.”

“that’s the face of evil!” you exclaim, sitting up and placing the back of your hand on your forehead to fall into his lap dramatically, feigning death, my body draped over his thighs faced down.

he looks down at you as you go limp against him, and he can’t help but laugh at your antics.

“don’t be so dramatic,” he grins. he lets kuma go, watching as he climbs down your combined bodies to muzzle against your cheek before moving away to curl up in his usual spot in the corner of the couch. “i think he’s gonna end up liking you more than me.”

“good,” you hum, closing your eyes and relaxing in his lap, forearm under your chin so it doesn’t dig into his legs.

he rolls his eyes jokingly, resting his hand on your back and tracing down your spine, “very funny.”

you chuckle at his response, sighing softly, content where you are. in the privacy of his home, you’re not scared of being affectionate, especially not as his hand traces down to rest against the small of your back, eliciting a faint shudder.

his heart hammers in his chest as his hand trails further down to the back of your thigh, the feeling of your plump flesh beneath the fabric, under his touch igniting something in him. he has to remind himself to breathe, trying to control the rush of blood that is steadily flowing downward.

enjoying the feeling of his hand kneading the back of your thigh, you go a little silent before turning to look up at him, a question that’s been balancing on the top of my tongue for three months finally spilling out.

“hwa… what exactly are we? what is this?” you point between the two of you as you mutter the question.

his hand freezes the second he hears it. he’s been avoiding that question since the two of your really started seeing each other every wednesday months ago, but he knows he can’t anymore. not when it’s thrown straight at his face.

he takes a deep breath, avoiding your gaze for a moment. he lets the silence sit for a few more seconds as he considers his answer, then looks down at you.

“i don’t know,” he mutters, his hand moving to rest on your waist, “i’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

“well, what is this to you then?” you ask softly, sitting up to be eye level with him, kneeling beside him.

the question sounds more demanding coming from you face to face, eye to eye, and his heart is beating fast enough that he fears you can hear it. he swallows, looking into your eyes.

“a distraction,” he mutters, his gaze flitting to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes, preparing his next words.

but before he can continue, you visibly deflate at his answer, sitting back as i nod. a distraction. “i see,” you tear your gaze away from him, getting up, making his hand drop from you, “i’m gonna go to bed, wheres the guest room?”

he feels his heart twist at the sight of you leaving his touch, a dejected look on your face.

he’s never seen you back off so quickly before. not like this. he watches you get up and stand over him, a step too far for him to reach for you agajn, his heart tightening in his chest.

“wait, doll-“ he starts, reaching out to take your hand.

“what? you said what you said.”

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, his tone firmer. he stands up from the couch, towering over you. he holds a hand out to you. “come here, please.”

“then how else could you possibly mean it,” you scoff lightly, eying his hand but not taking it.

“listen, doll,” he mutters, holding back a huff of frustration. “you can’t seriously think that I would call this a distraction,” he gestures between the two of you. “a distraction. you really think that you are just a distraction to me?”

“well is that not what you said?” you mutter, trying to prevent your lips from trembling as a lump latches itself onto your throat.

he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. he reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him. he can feel the tension in your body, and he hates it. he hates himself for causing it.

“you didn’t let me finish. i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, looking directly into your eyes, resting your hands in his chest. “you’re not just some random, meaningless distraction to me.”

your fingers flex slightly as he holds them up to his chest, right over his heart, “then tell me how you really feel about me if i’m not a distraction”

he looks into your eyes, holding onto your wrists firmly but gently, his thumbs rubbing against your skin, the inside of your wrists.

he’s never seen you like this before. this vulnerable and open in front of him. he can feel the tension in your body, the stiffness in your shoulders and the tightness in your jaw.

he wants to smooth out those frowning lines on your face, erase that look of uncertainty in your eyes.

“you’re more than just a distraction to me,” he mutters. “you’re an obsession. you’re all i think about, doll. i think about you constantly. i don’t know how else to describe it other than an obsession,” he continues, his voice getting softer as he speaks. “i can’t shake you. you’ve gotten in my head and you’ve been living in there rent free for months and you refuse to get out. even when i try to ignore you,” he lets out a scoff, looking into your eyes, “even when i pretend to ignore you, you’re still there. you don’t leave my mind.”

his heart races as the words spill out of his mouth, like there’s a dam bursting inside of him. the feelings that he’s been bottling up for months finally coming out, and he doesn’t want to stop, letting those words tumble out and onto you. he can see that you’re listening intently, that you’re listening intently as his grip on your wrists tightens, almost as if he’s scared that you’re going to run away from him.

“you’ve got me so distracted i can barely focus on anything that doesn’t involve you,” he admits in a low voice, glancing down at your wrists. “i can’t even teach my own goddamn class without thinking about you.”

you’re speechless, even as he finishes, staring up at him with wide dumbfounded eyes, feeling his hammering heart beneath your fingertips just as how he feels yours under his as his thumbs continue to rub the inside of your wrists.

you suppose you can always rely on a literature professor for an extravagant, dramatic confession.

he continues to hold onto you. he’s never seen you this speechless and dumbfounded before, and he’s torn between how good it feels to see you like this and how bad it things could go now that his feelings were out.

he swallows, looking down at your wrists. he can feel your pulse point under his thumb. “say something, angel,” he murmurs, a pleading tone in his voice.

instead, you pull your hands out of his grip to wrap them around his neck, pulling him down, placing your lips against his urgently, your eyes falling shut.

his heart hammers in his chest as he kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you against him, his fingers curling into your hoodie. he wants to kiss you forever, wants to make up for all those months of holding back, but his lungs are burning from the lack of air and he’s forced to pull away to breathe.

he lets out a sigh, his forehead falling to the crown of your head. his hands stay on you, still holding you against him. he can still feel your heart racing against his chest.

“that was your idea of saying something?”

“uh huh,” you hum, chuckling softly as you thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, mind full of him. seonghwa, seonghwa, seonghwa.

he closes his eyes as he feels your fingers, enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp. he still has his arms around you, unwilling to let go yet. he leans down just enough to press a kiss to your temple, his lips brushing softly against your skin.

“but seriously,” you snicker, pulling away from him a little “i am kinda tired, wheres the guest bed?”

he almost lets out a whine when you pull away from him, opening his eyes reluctantly. he looks down at you, a frown on his face.

“you’re really gonna go sleep by yourself?” he mutters, an almost petulant tone in his voice as he quirks his brow.

“is that not what i’m supposed to do?“

“you really think i’m going to let you sleep alone after… that? come on now, you’re not that dense.”

“i know, i just wanted you to say it,” you giggle after a moment, grinning up at him as you lean down to scoop up kuma from the couch.

he lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes, but he’s unable to hide the small smile of his own. he reaches out and ruffles your hair, letting out a scoff. “you’re insufferable.”

“and you just said you’re obsessed with me,” you shrug, kissing his cheek as his hand find the small of your back, leading you don’t the hallway, “where does the kitty sleep?”

he looks down at kuma, still curled up in your arms, practically purring himself to death. “baby, he’s a cat. he’ll sleep wherever he wants.”

you snort, setting him down on a little armchair in the corner of his room, next to some bookshelves stacked with books upon books, and more books. you lean down to pet him a few more times as seonghwa watches you with a fond smile.

he watches you as he sits on the bed, his heart clenching at how good you look in his bedroom. it feels almost surreal, having you here in his home. he pats the spot next to him.

“get over here, baby.”

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime

[studio105animation]

Meet the Studio 105 Head Honchos! 🚙

Hi my name is Vanessa Garcia-Millan :3 ! I am one of the co-founders for Studio 105! I work for outreach and as a Line Producer at Studio 105! I have so much to learn and I am so excited to be a part of a team with so many ambitious artists!!!!! I love all things small and cute (shout out to itemlabel and hyraxes). Anyway, I am so hype for what our team has to offer! Stay Tooned! 😎 @ ivory.petals

Hello! I am Nina, one of the co-founders of Studio 105. I work as the social media manager for the studio. I graduated May this year with a BFA in animation. In my free time you’ll probably catch me playing games, drawing or reading a book. I’m excited to see where Studio 105 goes! @ tanjyareen

Hello my name is Pedro Maradiaga. I am part of the Executive Board on Studio 105!

I'm so glad I was approached by Nina and Vanessa to join the studio. They entrusted me, and the now Executive Board, to help setup leadership and administration.

I believe in all the creatives involved, and want to serve them with my business expertise. @ pedrofriedrice

Hello! My Name is Alejandra and I’m one of the Head Honchos and a Production Manager for Studio 105! I’m so excited to be working with so many wonderful creative minds and we can’t wait to show you guys our creations! Get ready! We’re gonna be cruising along! 😎✨🤩 @ floramarkart

Hi everyone! My name is Kimmothy, and I’m one of the Head Honchos of Studio 105. I deal with Business Administration and Production for the studio, and I’m so excited to be a part of this awesome team! When I’m not staring at my screen, I’m usually wandering the woods or hanging out with my cats. Watch out for our work, we’re on a roll 🦅😤💯 @ kim_of_thee

Hi, I’m Marisa and I’m one of the Head Honchos of Studio 105! I’m primarily in charge of managing the studio’s art direction. I love clowns and cool bugs and fun biology facts. We have lots in store for y’all and I’m excited to share it with you! ����🦎✨ @sabertoothwalrus

[taexoxosgf]

ACROSS THE ROOM

PAIRING idol!mark lee x idol fem!reader

WORDS 6.4k

SYNOPSIS You were just so beautiful.  The type of beauty that seemed unattainable.  The type of visual Mark would never approach because he concluded that there are already a million people at your feet. 

WARNINGS both are hot (yes, this needs a warning), fluff if you squint (rlly hard), smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male & fem receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms, missionary, doggy, slight hair pulling

NOTES repost. my old account is gone because i’m the dumbest bitch on earth.

February.

It had been two years since your group debuted.  The award show season had just concluded and one idol group would host a party to celebrate all the hard work throughout the year.  

You practically lived at the company at this point.  Eating, sleeping, and spending all your breaks there.  SM Entertainment has strict schedules regarding breaks and recovery time which has you constantly feeling as if you’re doing one thing after another.  

Idols would rarely have any time for themselves or to let loose.  Between the busy schedules and performances, there was scarcely any time for family or friends. 

It’s only been two years, and you applaud other groups in the same company who have been slaving away for the past few years.  But that was the price for fame and riches.  Maybe it is worth it to some people.  It was for you.

The art of music and dance was all you loved since you were a little girl.  Performing for your family or school talent shows, your love for music never fizzled out as it did with some individuals.  It could happen in the future, you think.  You’re still early in your career, so you hope to become more optimistic; content with what you have. 

This year, the group that was hosts is NCT. Groups from big companies such as  HYBE, JYP, YG, etc. were in attendance.  Since it was a rare occurrence, the boys split the cost of the mansion. It was such a brilliant idea to do this, you thought. There were so many of them, and it probably didn’t even make a dent in their bank accounts.  It was a small price to pay so idols could freely interact without the pressure of cameras, and old friends could reunite.  

Even though your group was in the same company as many of the artists, it was difficult to have time for conversations due to busy schedules and different practice areas. And it was almost impossible to run into each other at the company due to its vast size. The possibility, if you could guess, would be about five percent.  If artists of the same company rarely saw each other, imagine how difficult it would be for artists from different companies to be companions or friends.  

It was easier to become acquaintances to friends if two idol groups had overlapping comebacks.  Music Bank, Show Champion, M! Countdown, etc. gave a lot of free time in between to hop over to different waiting rooms to converse with your colleagues. Your group was especially close with G-idle, showcasing false surprises every time your comebacks would be in the same time frame. 

Your close friend, Soyeon, stands beside you, her right hand holding a red solo cup.  

“So you never hang out with guys, and you haven’t fucked a guy since last year?” 

“Nope, I don’t intend to tonight. And you know how hard it is to hang out with idols of the opposite gender. ”

Her hands soothingly rub against the sides of your arms. “No, no, no. I’m not having any of that tonight. When do we get a chance to roam free? No judgment, but this dry spell is getting out of hand.”

You scoff at your friend before continuing, “Unnie, these are basically our coworkers, I don’t know.”  

She rolls her eyes at you before standing in front of you, face-to-face, “Oh come on, don’t be a buzzkill babe.  So you’re telling me you don’t think anyone is attractive in this house full of hot people?” 

Her question causes you to scan around the room and outside the backyard.  Your eyes halt for a split second, but continue scanning around, pretending it never happened.  

“Oh, I saw that,” she points at you.  “There is a guy you wanna fuck!” 

Throwing your arms down in a huff of disapproval, you’re about to give in to Soyeon’s frenzy.  “Girl, could you be any fucking louder?” 

“You better tell me now, I caught you bitch,” she playfully slaps your arm.  

You bite your lip slightly, contemplating revealing who it is.  Looking up at her, she’s staring at you with anticipation. Her eyes grow wider by the second and you’re not surprised when you’re giving into her puppy dog eyes.  

Your hands fall on her shoulders as you close in on the space between the two of you. “Mark,” you whisper.

“Oh my god!” 

You wince. 

“I fucking knew it! I always thought you guys would look hot together.” 

“What? You thought about this before?” 

“Maybe. But that’s not the point.  I swear I saw him eye you, and only you when you guys got here!” she’s already jumping and pushing you to the backyard before you can get another word out.  

You try your fucking hardest to push back against her, but it’s no use.  Her drunk ass is already overpowering you.  

Mark is beside the pool playing with some of his members and others from different groups.  Tossing the ping-pong, the millisecond has him hoping it can make it into the red cup charged with alcohol.  

“Fuck,” his failure causes him to throw his head back. 

“You fucking suck, I’m three cups from winning bitch!” Yeonjun yells from across the foldable table.  

His success in the third remaining cup has him rejoicing, and he daps up his teammates.  

“Now give the ball to Sunwoo.  He’ll land it at the house next door,” Mark retorts. 

“Aw, you’re about to lose, so you’re talking out of your ass.” 

“You’re so drunk, you know that?” Mark laughs, ignoring his friends' behavior.   He’s stepping away to let the following person use their turn. 

He’s looking around at all the people at the house.  This was the one night of the year he looked forward to.  Just friends having fun and letting loose, no cameras, no one to judge or inspect his every move or facial expressions.  

He spots you and Soyeon against the glass sliding doors.  You look so fucking hot.  Your top accentuated the curve of your waist so well, and he noticed the mini skirt on your body rides up a little more every time he steals a glance at you.  The top you wore showed the perfect amount of cleavage and your perky breasts are on display for everyone to see.  He wants to be the only one to see them fully. He wants to be the only one to see you naked in front of him.  

Oh, how he would love to fuck you. He couldn’t help it. You look so delicious standing there, with your pouty lips and doe-like eyes.  Your perfect body and silky hair.

To be honest, he noticed you at the company and could never work up the courage to start a conversation with you.  News flash: this has literally never happened to him before.  It was never difficult to speak confidently to anyone until you.  His extroverted personality suddenly does a one-eighty whenever he contemplates approaching you.   

You were just so beautiful.  The type of beauty that seemed unattainable.  The type of visual Mark would never approach because he concluded that there are already a million people at your feet. 

He recalls the few times he passed you in the halls and you politely bowed.  Or when your recording sessions would overlap slightly, and he would hear your voice in the studio.  Or when he passed by you in those tight clothes that barely covered your body practicing with your group. 

Mark couldn’t lie, you were the most attractive out of all of them.  He personally thinks, no one could compare, but he has yet to discover what you’re really like.  Not the personality you convey on-screen.  

This only happens once a year.  It was an opening for him to finally converse with you.  The company, media, or fans wouldn’t have a clue about it.  There would be no confession to them, the perfect chance to shoot his shot.  The only thing holding him back would be rejection.  At this point, the opportunity is too tempting to ignore as soon as he spots Soyeon pulling you outside the home. 

This is so embarrassing.

You and Mark make eye contact as Soyeon drags you out the door.  He doesn’t pretend to look away.  

“Come on! Move!” 

“No! Oh my god! Stop!”

Soyeon finally stops with the physical force, and you both stare at each other.  Her eyes move from your eyes to his, another way of telling you to get on with it. 

“Think about it, this is the one day of the year where you’ll really get the chance, and with no judgment. Or sneaking around,” she adds in the last part, hoping you would miss it.  And you definitely didn’t. 

She’s stern on her point, supporting it over and over again with more reasons.  The persuasion is working, you think.  And now, you’re seriously contemplating it. What’s the harm? Rejection? Embarrassment? You don’t even know if he wants you. 

But maybe she’s right. You’ll most likely never run into him after today, and if you do, it probably won’t be until the same time next year. 

“I don’t want to hear for months after today what could’ve been.  You’ll spend so much time regretting it.  I know you better than yourself,” Soyeon adds further. 

Her words finally fuel your courage to make a move.  “Okay, just give me a second to build some confidence, meditate, or something,” you’re shutting your eyes to soothe the nervousness away. 

“Mhm, but maybe make it fast. Hot guy my twelve o’clock, coming your way. You’ll thank me later!” she quickly warns you as she pecks you on the cheek before making her way out of your line of sight.

There is no time for you to process what’s happening, or to prepare after she utters her last words. 

Turning around, Mark is already directly in front of you, your eyes align with his chest and it takes all of you to meet his eyes.  

“You don’t seem too happy to see me.” 

He was so fine.  You just wanted to stare at him. No matter how weird that sounded.

He’s scanning your entire form, taking a moment to drink in your appearance as you respond.  “I don’t have any emotions towards you.  We’ve never formally met.”

“Formally?  Did we cross paths at a time I didn’t know about?” The ice clinks against the cup as Mark raises it to sip and his Adam's apple bobs in a thick swallow. 

“I don’t know.  Maybe you know the answer,” you’re habitually pulling your body towards him.  The scent of his cologne laced with weed fills your nostrils and you already feel the warmth of his body radiating off him. You just can’t help it.  You wanted him so badly, so badly that you didn’t second guess your obvious signals. 

“You’re acting a little too dumb, saying words before thinking them through,” the false confidence is oozing from your voice as you speak. Okay.  Maybe you’re drunk and you didn’t know it.  If that’s the case, you won’t stop any time soon. 

“What do you mean I’m acting dumb?” he follows his response with a chuckle at your assumption. 

“You approached me as if we knew each other, then suddenly, you’ve never seen me before?” 

“You’ve got it all wrong baby,” the pet name catches you off guard, but it rolls off his tongue like velvet.  “We’ve never met, but I’ve noticed you.” 

“Notice me? Elaborate,” you wanted to have him explain.  Maybe he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You had to be sure.  No embarrassment or rejection today, you exclaim to yourself.  But you couldn’t jinx it.  

“You’re the one I’ve been waiting to see tonight.”  

“So you didn’t see me come in earlier?” your orbs follow your index and middle fingers as they walk up his chest. Your fingers stop finally looking at him straight in the eyes, “I call bullshit.” 

“I did,” he glances at your hand on his chest before returning to you. “Just was waiting til’ I got you all to myself.” 

‘Well… wish fulfilled… So, what is it that you hoped to see me for?” 

He looks at you differently, and what you didn’t know was he’s contemplating saying the whole and honest truth or the version that wouldn’t scare your on-screen persona away.  The innocent, dainty, girl that would break if you press too hard.  But up until now, Mark only knew of that girl.  

“Hey, Markie!” Yeonjun walks up from behind Mark, obviously drunk.  He’s stumbling around, anchoring himself by putting a hand on Mark’s shoulder.  “I see your buzyyys” he slurs while directing his attention to you. 

“You’re really so so hot, Y/n.  If yous torn Markie here, down, I’m alayz here,” his hooded eyes scream drunk.  “Hyung, don’t put that away!” he yells to someone behind you.  

You’re turning towards the home to find the person he’s addressing, but he’s suddenly stumbling past you, unintentionally pushing you backward. 

You’re off-balanced and as you close your eyes to prepare for impact, it never comes, and you feel an arm wrap around your waist, preventing you from practically eating shit.

Mark's arms are around your waist, sending a scowl back at Yeonjun before directing his attention back to you.

"As I was saying.” 

You gaze up at him, your chest now pressed against his. 

“What I hope to see you for?”

“Go on.” 

Mark doesn’t know what comes over him suddenly, but he’s thinking he should just rip it off like a bandaid because it’s all or nothing. 

“Is to have me in between your legs, and you screaming my name.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” your eyes move down to his lips.  It was so tempting to just pounce on him right here, right now.  

It was clear that you both wanted each other as much as the other did.  The game you always played with men every so often got you what you wanted, but this time, with Mark, it was almost impossible to keep playing. 

Mark doesn’t respond verbally.  Instead, he takes his hand to move the hair sheathing your ear.  You think he’s about to whisper something, but he begins kissing your neck, trailing down from your earlobe. 

“Is that what you like to do? Test people?” his lips are against your ear and you’re caught off guard, doing everything in your power to hold back a moan. 

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” you respond softly, eyes shut.  

“Be careful what you wish for.  It might come true,” he brings his face to yours, and your lips are practically two inches apart.  The buzzing in your body doesn’t stop and you’re scolding yourself for wanting to give in so easily.  

You notice him biting his lip, content with the effect he has on you. 

You lick your lips, “And what if I want it to?” 

“You’re all bark no bite baby.” 

“If you want me to bite, I will.” 

“I have yet to see otherwise,” he whispers against your ear, lip grazing your lobe. Mark doesn’t follow with another word but your impatience and the alcohol coursing through your veins forces you to make the decision. 

You close the distance between you two, connecting your lips with his.  It was so sudden, but he kisses you back almost immediately, squeezing your waist harder and the other hand instinctively goes to your cheek. 

You forget about the world around you, and that people are basically watching you begin to make out with Mark in the middle of the backyard.  But the built-up lust makes everyone disappear. You’re both in your own world, with no other thought in your consciousness. 

You don’t know what Mark is thinking, but he’s in the same boat as you.  He wanted you for so long, and now he finally has you. Following that thought, he doesn’t know what he did in his past life to deserve this, but he must have saved an entire country to be able to receive what he’s experiencing now.  

You’re kissing more roughly now, your arms around his neck as he gropes your entire body.  Your hands snake up into his hair, and you find yourself pulling his locks as it becomes more intense.  When his hand snakes down to your ass, he squeezes, which earns a gasp from you.  

Mark takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into yours.  Your mouths fit each other perfectly, and you question if the other people you made out with in the past were real, because it has never felt this good before.  

After a while, you’re pulling back, Mark struggling to pull himself away from you. 

“Easy there,” your forehead is still against his, eyes on his lips. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he husks against your mouth. 

Both of your chests are rising and falling at a rapid pace, not realizing you needed to catch your breaths. 

“Upstairs, the second door, on your left,” the words roll off his tongue without hesitation. 

You’re mutually agreeing, you, with a nod as you slowly part, and your fingers run off his, until the tip of the nail.  It’s so hard to control yourself and act as if nothing had just happened.  

Of course, people were looking.  Some were whispering to each other, the others smirking, and finally, the one’s with a scowl on their faces as they watched each one walk away from the other.  

You’re in the room sitting at the edge of the bed as you wait for Mark.  You had just sat down and looked around the room.  It’s clean and smells husky, but you can tell someone was staying here due to the small duffel bag and clothing scattered across the floor. 

And you definitely couldn’t lie, you are so nervous.  What would Mark be like in bed? Rough, dominant, gentle, or maybe submissive?  It had been so long since you had sex, it felt as if you were a virgin all over again.  

You’re amidst your own thoughts when you hear the click of the door.  The door doesn’t open carefully, but it’s practically slammed open.  Mark doesn’t look back as he closes the door behind him, not even stopping for a single second.  The moment he sees you, he’s grabbing your face and smashes your lips against each other.  It’s too fast, all of it happening in one motion.  

You’re stumbling back until the back of your leg hits the edge of the bed, forcing you to sit back on it. But Mark’s lips don’t leave yours, following you and pushing you slowly until your back hits the mattress. His arms cage your body with his knee between your legs.  You feel Mark grab behind the bend of your leg to wrap around his torso while your lips are still attached;  Intertwining in perfect harmony.  

The buzzing all around your body only seems to grow stronger as he becomes more aggressive.  It was like he was so hungry that he couldn’t stop even if someone walked into the room right this instant.  You couldn’t lie, it would probably turn you on more.  

Mark couldn’t help it, you were just so insatiable, like a drug that he couldn’t get enough of.  Like a drug, he could take over and over, without getting sick.  He wanted all of you so badly, but only if you were willing to give yourself to him.  

The more you dive deeper into Mark, the more he sucks you in, and the more you want him. 

The makeout is unforgiving, animalistic almost. “So sweet,” he murmurs against your mouth.  It feels too good to open your eyes to him.  Your panties are already sticky and if this continues, you’d have to throw them away.  

You’re biting your lip as Mark’s lips leave yours to trail kisses down your neck.  He’s careful not to leave hickeys as he already knows that your makeup artists would be unforgiving.  

But Mark continues to trace kisses down your body, pulling down your skirt and practically tearing off your underwear in one motion. He’s kissing all around except where you need him the most and it makes you whine.  

“Tell me you want it,” this statement has you looking down and locking eyes with him. 

“Mark, just get on with it.”

“Try again,” at that, he presses circles at your clit without a warning. It’s slow, the pad of his thumb easing over your bud.  But it’s too slow, and you need more.  

“Mark, Please.  I want you,” you mewl, giving in to his demand. The one action already having you fall apart right under his fingertips.  Before you know it, you’re instinctively moving your body closer to him, the eagerness exemplifying the level of want when you’re clenching around nothing. 

“Yeah?” you don’t see it but the smirk he exudes at your greenlight is much more than subtle.  “Don’t have a smart-ass comment now?” 

Before you can retort, he’s diving head first, licking a stripe up your slit.  It’s a satisfying feeling, a gasp threatening to spill from your lips as the feeling of arousal becomes stronger.  

He’s continuing, knowing exactly how to turn you on, knowing exactly how to touch your body, and how to make your eyes roll back.  His hands roughly push against the sides of your thigh to prevent you from moving out of place and the dim lights aren’t a hurdle as Mark finds your clit and gives it a sharp suck.  It’s just the beginning as he continues slurping and sucking in all the right places, unforgiving as he gives you the best head of your life.  Your eyes feel as if they're going to fall out of their sockets at the perfect pressure and pace. 

“Fuuu-ck,” it’s stretched out, the same word combining with a previous moan that threatened to come out from the back of your throat.  

“You’re so wet,” he rasps against your cunt. “So fucking messy.” 

“Mark, don’t stop!” 

What you didn’t know is Mark loved giving head.  He didn’t need to receive anything in return.  Knowing he made his partner cum turns him on beyond belief.  Making you squirm and moan his name like a mantra has him instinctively rutting his crotch against the mattress.  

You didn’t know he was this good.  It’s as if you and he have done this a hundred times before.  You’re absolutely drenched, your arousal mixed with his saliva drips down your core.  But a mess was the last thing you and Mark worried about.  

“Mark, I need more,” you squirm beneath him, your voice sounding already fucked out.

“Is that a demand?” he’s teasing, inserting only his middle finger while awaiting your obedience. 

A small gasp leaves your lips before you utter a plea, “Holy shit, Mark, please.” You’re practically whining at this point while your temper and impatience becomes all too consuming. 

“That’s better,” he adds his ring finger, adding to the fullness and earning another gasp from you. 

“Damn.  Thinking about your face when you cum is already making me so hard,” he groans against your cunt and continues to slowly grind his erection against the mattress with no embarrassment.  You were already fucked out, but you could see him from your peripheral view, and if it wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, you don’t know what is.  

Mark’s watching your expressions as he slowly pulls his fingers out before plunging them back in.  He doesn’t let up as the slow motion suddenly speeds up, and he has you moaning and squirming underneath him. 

He suddenly sucks on your clit in sync with the rhythm of his fingers and your eyes practically roll into your head.  “Mark, Mark,” you shout as your thighs begin to quiver and you’re arching your back at the gratifying overstimulation.  

"I-I’m gonna cum," your words are barely audible, mingled with gasps and groans, but Mark attentively listens, hearing every sound that emanates from you.  He doesn't stop and keeps going in the same motions, only rougher and faster. It's not until he curls his fingers inside you that he finally reaches the sweet spot. 

Your orgasm hits you all at once, tears threaten to spill down the sides of your face as the band in your lower abdomen inevitably snaps, and your entire body shakes.  Mark sucks and slurps on your clit as if nothing happened, and you're virtually screaming.  The obscene sounds fill the room and don't halt until you beg him to stop and he notices the cum gushing out of your body painting his fingers and dripping down your cunt.  

“Fuck,” you’re spent, and it’s all solely from Mark’s tongue and fingers.  You haven’t even seen his dick yet, and it already tops all the other people you’ve decided to waste your nights with. 

“Done already?” The words are like butter, right before he licks another stripe up our sensitive core. “Well, I’m not done with you,” you quiver as he carefully drops the straps of your top, and then, brings the fabric over your head.  Your senses seem to be on overdrive today, and you can’t get enough.   

Mark's large hands glide from the inside to the outside of your thighs, merely to define the contour of your hips and waist, stopping to frame your breasts, and slowly begins circling your nipples, as if he read your thoughts.  “Feel good?” 

“Mhm,” the high from one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had begins to finally come down and you notice the lips that hover right above you. Before another thought, your arm hooks around his neck to pull him down onto your lips.  

He welcomes the kiss, mouth moving languidly with yours.  Both of your bodies melt into each other as the serene moment becomes all too comfortable.  His hand continues to press circles on your nipple as the other gently rubs against your waist, eventually moving down to your inner thigh, in an attempt to soothe your spent body. The push and pull of your lips continues on for a few moments before it becomes faster.  Mark bites down on your lower lip, but you whimper at the action because of the overwhelming sensitivity.  

At your whimper, he lets go to lick over your bottom lip as an expression of remorse.  You’re so overwhelmed, it's only now that you remember his very big problem.  It’s poking at your hip, and he lets you know he notices your revelation by experimentally pressing his erection against your center. This causes you to lock eyes with him, another smirk adorning his perfect face.  

Mark’s cockiness only instigates you to unhook the arm around his neck and move down to cup his erection.  You don’t even look down, staring up at him as you palm him through his pants.  “You just love playing games don’t you,” but the shaky exhale he withdraws notifies you of the facade.

“Only if you’re playing,” your hooded eyes and bottom lip trapped in between your teeth say much more.  The seductiveness of your tone only pulls Mark closer to you, him getting lost in every single sense. 

Mark decides at this very moment he's too impatient to withhold any longer.  He's had enough.  Enough of your doe eyes staring at him as if nothing else matters.  Enough with the melodious responses that exit your pretty lips. Enough of the temptation that you are. He's willing to obey every demand, no matter the cost. He thinks that even though you two hardly know each other, it's as if you've done this a hundred times before.

He is already withdrawing from your body to remove his clothing in front of you. The warmth is missed, but now you’re just sitting there in awe, because what the fuck.  The large t-shirt he always wore hid his delicious arms and oh so, thin waist. Mark’s towering over you and it’s difficult not to gawk at his figure.  The boxers that hug his hips are pulled down, revealing his big cock.  You knew it was more than average when feeling the imprint on his pants, but you almost drool at the sight in front of you.  

“Like what you see?” he’s emitting the same look, with the corner of his lip tugging up in return for your reactions.  

You don't say a thing, instead groaning at his languid movements, legs spread open, upper body propped up with your arms. You continue to watch as he puts his hand over his cock and gently strokes it.  Mark bites his lower lip to keep a groan at bay after stroking a little quicker.  Watching him fuck himself turned you on belief and it should be embarrassing but the sight was basically straight out of a porn video.  

“Let me help you out,” patience was never your strong suit, and the ogling only lasts a few moments before you’re on all fours, inching to the edge of the bed where Mark stands.  He lets you, removing his hand before you lick a long stripe up from the base of his cock, then slightly sucking the tip. A smile threatens to come about as Mark twitches at your action.  

“Stop teasing before I fuck you senseless against the wall,” he huffs, throwing his head back. Mark was so close to just pulling you off and using you if you let him.  You seemed to be taking your precious time, but he was slightly worried he would come embarrassingly fast if you were the one in control here.  Anything you did, he seemed to fall apart so easily.  Right into the palm of your hand. 

The warning was one that seemed like a reward to you, but you regress, pushing him into your mouth in one motion.  Immediately gagging, the tip hits the back of your throat fast.  It barely fits inside your mouth, and you find yourself using your hand to make up for the remainder.  “Shit, that’s it,” he groans at the vibration from your throat as his praise makes you moan, imagining his cock in your pussy later.

You can feel every ridge of his cock in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, sucking and moving back and forth.  He was so big, and the more you took of him, the more sounds came from Mark. It only urged you on further, sucking and bobbing like your life depended on it.

You’re squeezing your thighs together to aid the ache as the sound of the glide of your tongue against his cock is the only thing filling the air in the bedroom.  It seems to be the final straw when he uses his hand to twist your hair and pull you off his cock.  “Fuck, enough.  I’m gonna cum if you keep going.” 

You use the back of your hand to wipe off the corners of your mouth before Mark guides you onto your back with his hand still wrapped around your hair, the same hand resting on the back of your head. He's hanging over you once more, and the warmth you longed for returns.  Your legs are already spread open, wanting to cure the clenching of nothing in between your legs. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he’s biting his lip as he politely runs the hand originally entangled in your hair to push away the ones in front of your face.  

“Want you so bad,” your words combine with a whimper because he’s running his cock back and forth over your sensitive folds, collecting as much cum as possible.  

He offers a polite smile before he pushes in. It’s slow, but Mark’s size was far from normal, at least, far from what you’re used to. You feel so full and you both gasp at the contact, a grunt coming from him.  “Oh my fucking god,” you almost choke on your words, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you adjust to his size.  Mark grunts against your ear at your pussy swallowing his dick.  If he were to die right now, this is what he guesses heaven would feel like.  

“Fuck,” he tests the waters by grinding his hips against you, and it already has your back arching.  “You’re so fucking tight,” his hands return to your waist, the arch of your back forced back onto the mattress. His hands are sure to leave bruises, but you couldn’t give a care in the world.   Every single movement and drag of his cock against your walls is ecstasy, the delicious burn fueling the awaiting high. “You’re such a good girl. Taking me so well,” he murmurs. 

“Mark, please move.” 

“So needy,” he rolls his hips against you once more, while his pelvis is against you, “Your wish is my command,” before pulling back and diving back into your heat.  “Oh,” a moan escapes your lips at the action. Your eyes are barely open, but those hooded eyes are focused on the Greek god in front of you.  You stare at the strained muscles all along his back, his whole body flexing with every movement.  

He’s repeating the same pull and push of his hips until there's a consistent pace, every stroke earning more sounds from you. The grip he has on you becomes tighter as he begins speeding up his thrusts.  

You’re practically sobbing at the way Mark burrows his cock inside you, fucking you so that you can’t walk the next day.  It’s so rough, breasts and body jolting with every movement, and you’re searching for stability by bringing your legs around his waist. You love it rough.  Wanting him to use you, use you in any way he wanted. Mark suddenly pulls out almost completely before brutally hitting the spot inside you where you need him the most.  

“H-holy shit, Mark.”

He’s so lost in the pleasure, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the feel of your pussy choking his cock like a vice makes it almost painful to hold back his moans. It’s an impossible task though, with you in front of him lost in pleasure, tits bouncing in front of his face with the pretty sounds coming from you.  Mark is too close.  Embarrassingly close.  He wants to prolong this as long as possible because he can’t seem to ever get enough.  

“You’re not the sweet, innocent girl everyone thinks you are, are you?” he spits and you’re too fucked out to decipher his words.  “W-what,” your words combine with a moan because you yourself feel the forming of another orgasm in your lower abdomen and attempt to meet his thrusts halfway to reach euphoria. Tears are threatening to fall, makeup smeared, but you don’t give a care in the world as Mark continues.  

“You act like an innocent school girl who’s gonna break if she receives one insult,” he scoffs.  “But you’re not,” before he can finish his string of words, he’s pulling his cock out of you to turn you around onto your stomach.  You yelp at the action before you feel his arm hook around your waist, bringing you up to your knees. 

 “You’re dirty, walking around in clothing that barely covers your body, so what? So you can get fucked?” you gasp as Mark plunges his cock back inside from behind, the new angle making you squirm. He has his lip caught between his teeth as he continues with the pace he exercised prior. 

“Mark I-i’ll come,” you're dropping to your elbows after your arms give out. It seems as if Mark is in the same boat as you when his thrusts become faster and more aggressive; if that’s even possible.  Your brain feels like a puddle of mush, the band threatening to snap again.  

“You got what you wanted,” he leans down to hover against your ear with his chin against your nape, not stopping the addictive pace of his thrusts.  “But you got it all wrong.” 

“Mark d-don’t stop! Fuck!” 

He brings his arm back below you and pinches your clit.  "From now on, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you. Got it?" You're not sure if it's the hazy words that come out of his mouth or the way he explores your body, but you're at the point where you'll do anything to get to the goal given that your legs are shaking. You’re so close, and you want it so fucking bad.  

“Yes! Fuck yes!” 

“So good.  Come for me, baby,” He rasps, unable to hide how fucked out he is. With a few more thrusts from Mark, the coil finally snaps and your entire body convulses underneath him. He keeps going even after this, pursuing his high and intensifying the orgasm. You're shaking and sobbing, and it's spreading throughout your body, beginning in your lower belly and progressing throughout.  It’s consuming you completely, the addicting high turning your body into a mass of nothing. A moan threatens to escape from your throat, but to no avail, not a single sound comes about.  

"Holy shit, so fucking tight," your pussy spasms around his cock, making it difficult for Mark to move, but it's enough for him to reach his, cum painting your walls as he rides out both of your peaks; Your cum and his mix together as it drips down your body. 

You feel your entire body collapse back onto the mattress as you come down, and your consciousness battles with the idea of sleep as it wanders. 

 Not soon after, it finally gives in.  

The intense rays of the sun through the drapes forces you awake, eyelids fluttering at the intrusion.  You rub your eyes before opening them, and after a few moments, you realize that this isn't your room, and memories from the night before resurface.  While twisting your body around to the opposing side, a small smile appears on your lips.  

Mark is fast asleep beneath the sheets, his features serene.  You simply want to continue watching him sleep with no expression on his face because he's simply, well, gorgeous.  But you quickly second-guess yourself and determine that, yes, this is a little weird, therefore getting up to use the restroom to distract yourself was the best decision.  

Before your feet can touch the cold floor, a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back to your original position.  Except, this time, Mark’s arms are wrapped around your entire figure, his chin resting against the crown of your head. 

"Let's just stay like this for a little while," he declares, lids remaining closed. 

You melt against him, with a small laugh pervading the room, and say, "Okay." 

Soon after, you're both falling asleep once more, bodies entangled like they were the night before, but for a completely different reason. 

[eurydicees]

i think iwaizumi is like. ok so he comes off as cool and athletic and smart and popular and, yk, to a degree, he totally is! he’s incredible at volleyball and he gets decent grades and he’s a good friend and overall well-liked by the general seijoh population.

ALSO at the same time he is like. the lamest popular guy in the world.

this is a title that oikawa has given him and the part that iwaizumi protests is not “lame” but “popular.” some points that oikawa makes, when talking to iwaizumi about how much of a normal average deeply Just A Guy iwaizumi is:

iwaizumi’s favorite activity is, first and foremost, volleyball; and second, it’s “spend time watching d-rated martial arts movies with my best friend.”

i appreciate it and love this, oikawa says, obviously, but you do have other things you can do with your time. do you know that. it doesn’t seem like you know that.

he’s popular, he has other friends, he could have his pick of girlfriends, and he chooses to instead monopolize oikawa’s time through varying methods of aggression and/or affection.

why do you not have a girlfriend yet, oikawa asks. i’m too busy keeping you in line, iwaizumi says. to which oikawa replies, you suck at being popular, iwa.

people think he’s cool because he likes the outdoors, likes going on hikes with his free time, excels at every athletic task, etc etc.

what they do not know is that he likes going on hikes to look at the changing leaves and his favorite way to interact with nature is like his fucking rock collection or some shit.

do they have names, oikawa asks, teasing. shut the fuck up, iwaizumi says. then, fucking obviously they have names.

he’s not scared of bugs, girls whisper when he passes in the hallways. he saved me from a spider one time, they say, and oikawa claims they swoon.

and like, oikawa HAS to laugh because this is the same boy who tried to keep a tank of beetles he collected from the park and cried hysterically both first when they all escaped, and second when his mother yelled at him for ten minutes about the five she found in the sugar jar. he was fourteen.

“he’s so smart,” someone says admiringly when iwaizumi helps them a bit with their class work. oikawa is rolling his damn eyes because iwaizumi is smart, sure, he’s doing fine in school, but he’s evidently not smart enough to calculate the risk/reward of a monetary bet on how many pork buns he can fit in his mouth. more than 8 gets him 1000 yen. less than 8 makes him lose 1500.

what the fuck was he thinking, oikawa is forced to ask, first when he nearly has to perform the heimlich maneuver and later when he buys iwaizumi a consolation bottle of water. what the fuck.

people think he’s mysterious and stoic and kind of darkly intriguing because he doesn’t necessarily laugh a lot while he’s in class and focused, and while he’s friendly with everyone, he still sticks pretty close to his little group.

oikawa cannot believe that anyone could ever think this because iwaizumi gets home after school and does not shut the fuck up. and he’s so easy to make laugh. and his every expression is so easy to read.

how could you possibly have anyone convinced that you are cool and mysterious, oikawa asks. how the fuck did you do that.

iwaizumi is forced to shrug. he doesn’t really have an answer. people just kind of make their own assumptions about him no matter what he does. doesn’t matter anyways. oikawa might be the only one who seems to truly get him, but he’s okay with that. if it had be one person, he’s glad it’s someone he loves.

and now what the fuck is oikawa supposed to do with that.

(push him down on the bed and kiss him, oikawa finds, seems to be the right answer.)

[wyervan]

Hello!! Everybody!!!

I’d first like to say~~~

My goodness gracious, if you told me 6 months ago I would have this many (and largely I imagine from the DCA fandom!?!), I would have been in utter disbelief 🫢 …but also absolutely delighted!!

I’ve had such a lovely summer doing fanart and interacting with the community. You guys are all so fun and welcoming!

There’s so much more I want to do and now that I’ve largely wrapped up @/dcazine work, I finally have time to explore other ideas!!! I’ve been thinking about it CONSTANTLY. Just art ideas and AUs and comics and yap yap yap

some specifics

Spruce up some sketches from a coupla months ago that i actually really like

fanart! God, i have seen so many cool designs and read SO many fics over the past few months and I have so many feelings and I’m going to pour them on other people through their screens. 👁️ 👄 👁️

Slasher!DCA AU stuff. It’s been at a rolling boil in my brain for WEEKS and i kno it’s a lil out there 😶‍🌫️ but i think i got a actual story to tell and some of u might be interested :3 ?

Lotta inktober sketches bc i love an excuse for dark inky monochrome spooky content. can’t wait. 😛

An actual about-me pinned post

Um! And i’m always good for a message! about anything, but especially art! Always feel free to @ me. i read all your guys’s tags and comments and stuff and it makes me all gooey in the chest 🫠.

Expect mostly sketchy stuff for the next while—kinda burnt out on rendering and i want to become a more efficient drawer anyway can still take me hours to do a simple sketch 😭.

But no yeah super excited for the next few months, see u all again vera soon :3

[mt-oe]

I’ve just been highly obsessed over modern Mizu. So I’m just asking for that, modern Mizu meets reader at uni or something like that! I love LOVE your writing!! 💖💖

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you don't mind if I add a bit more to this <3 I've been wanting to write modern au Mizu hcs and your request really granted me the opportunity to do so.

Also, I'm so sorry for being so slow on the requests. I've been so eepy lately for some reason and I can't fight against it, like I tried but failed so many times ;; I am a slave to my own body

Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader, game reference (league of legends)

general headcanons

✦ This woman would either overload or underload her units like crazy. She'd either be busy with her academics and work 6 days a week, even sending a letter to the admin so she can go past the mandated maximum amount of units in one semester or doing absolutely nothing while the rest of her friends are going apeshit on their finals. There's no in between.

She would plan it like an absolute psychopath too. Nothing special foreseeably happening in the next semester? She's going above and beyond. A convention she wants to go to on September? Signing up for the bare minimum amount of allowed units just for one event.

Her friends are either concerned for her and losing contact for a whole semester, or are pissed off that she's playing some kind of gacha game on her phone while they're losing their minds on their finals.

✦ Would be the type to be so pissed off by slow walkers in the hallway. The hatred she has for people who walk so fucking slow in the hallway is unbridled. Though she's not the type to pick fights, she'd be the type to sigh loudly, making you feel her anger, before overtaking and wouldn't be afraid to bump against the person if needed. Her hatred goes deep enough to the point where she even remembers people JUST because they walk slow.

✦ The type of friend who would walk to everything. Sure she has her motorbike, but if she can walk to it, you bet she's going to walk. She even knows different shortcuts to different buildings on campus.

"This looks like a good place," Akemi tells them, showing her phone. For once, their vacant hours finally aligned and they've been trying to find a good place to eat since the lunch hall food was getting repetitive and they could feel their taste buds dulling over time. Akemi, being the 'what do you guys want to eat?' friend, and the other three, being the 'I don't know' or the 'I'm fine with whatever' friends, is left to search for a new place.

They took a look at the place and shrugged in agreement, making her roll her eyes at their lack of opinion. "Okay but how are we going to go there?" Taigen asks. Mizu takes Akemi's phone and looks up the map to the place. The distance itself was enough to tell a person that they should take the bus. Hell, it was on the other side of town almost.

"We can walk. It's not that far," she says, closing the map and handing Akemi her phone back. They trusted Mizu. It couldn't be that bad.

Right?

By the time they arrived at the restaurant, they were already sweating, ready to give up, tired out of their wits. The food wasn't even worth it anymore.

"It's not that far" my ass.

Even Taigen, her fellow gym rat and workout buddy, was fucking exhausted. And this bitch (affectionately), has the audacity to stand there, crossing her arms with the most unamused expression on her face as if it was their fault for being so exhausted. If she tells you its walking distance, it is NOT within walking distance.

✦ She's a jack-of-all trades type of person, but she'd have the fattest fucking talent crush on anyone who can express themselves through art. The talents and skills she gathered were purely out of necessity. Fixing and modifying bikes was the only thing she was truly passionate about but it's hard to be expressive through repairing motorbikes, right?

She has always been so amazed by stories of painters, sculptors, singers, and writers who have deep backstories and can reflect it through their art. She would be the type to read the whole description in art museums just because she's so amazed by them.

Deep inside her, she wished she could do that too. To express herself through a medium. Like what do you mean you wrote this poem because you're sad your cat died? Or what do you mean you took this professional-looking picture just because you had the best picnic date with your friends? How can someone write a song about casual sapphic sex? She can't even vocalize her feelings, how much more in art? Whenever she sees someone writing their English essay so well or drawing randomly, she'd secretly be so interested.

✦ Mizu would have social media accounts but would use it bare minimum. She'd be that type of classmate that you're not sure if it's really her because she doesn't have a profile picture you can check or if she does, it's like a picture of an item instead of her face.

Her friends would be so happy whenever Mizu posts an IG story even if it's just a picture of where they were eating or even if their face is barely in the picture.

"Aww you posted us!" and they're like little ants with how small they were in the picture.

Or

"Do you want to eat at that place again?" and she'd be like 'what? why?' but they'd know she actually enjoyed the food because she bothered posting a picture of the place.

Deep inside her, Mizu wants to keep up with whatever trends her friends are into but she's very lowkey about it. The tough love friend who secretly really enjoys being friends, y'know? She'd search about it and try to figure it out. Everyone's surprised by her internet knowledge since she always acts like she wouldn't give a shit whatever new trend is on.

✦ This sounds so corny and stereotypical, but Taigen and her would be those gym rats who solve everything by working out. It didn't matter if it was a weekday, a weekend, a holiday, or whatever weather condition was going on outside, they are going.

They failed a test? Gym. Hungover? Gym. Too much homework? Gym.

When Megan Thee Stallion said she'll go to the gym two times a day, they go three. When she said the results are resulting? The body is bodying? These two are taking it seriously.

Taigen would focus on biceps, chest, and lats, cutting down on fat so his body would look more lean. He'd hate leg day but would do it anyway just to balance out his physique.

Meanwhile, Mizu would have a 'sleeper-type' build and her routine would be more well-rounded and would even include calisthenics on her free time. They'd try to beat each other's PR but it really ain't a competition when Mizu is always winning.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

how did you two meet?

Stupid shitty project.

Stupid fucking publisher gatekeeping the fucking article.

Stupid bitch ass school wifi keeps disconnecting.

Mizu resisted the urge to slam her laptop shut as her device disconnected from the wifi for the nth time. She was stuck in the library trying to finish her midterm project for building design system and holy shit was she frustrated.

She needed to create a specific building design that was supposed to be environmentally friendly, using what was considered as 'green materials' and had minimally destructive designs. It wouldn't be so bad if this fucking publisher just had to put a price on the article she needed. Wasn't education supposed to be free or whatever?

Her friends tried to help her, telling her to use the library computers, but none of them were working or free at the moment. That leaves her to use her laptop in the library. Usually, that wouldn't be a problem but due to the recent rains, the school wifi has been pretty shitty.

After a few more tries, she decided that this wasn't worth the frustration and trouble, and decided to collect her things to get ready to leave. Just as she was about to zip up her bag, a tap on the shoulder stopped her. She turned around to look at who was trying to get her attention, ready to tell them off. But upon turning around, her heart skipped a beat.

There you stood.

In your oh-so fancy sweatpants and college logo hoodie (whose logo wasn't even the university's). Your hair was ruffled and messy, eyes tired and more exhausted than her's. Understandably so though. It was hell week and everyone was tired, but somehow, your tired looked so pretty.

Her eyes continued to stare at you. Like the world stopped moving and it was just you and her in the room.

"Umm...there's a free computer over there if you still need it," you said shyly but in a straightforward manner. A small tired smile on your lips, trying to appear as friendly as possible. Mizu snapped out of her trance and nodded, slinging her bag over her shoulder to move to the said computer.

Maybe she'll stay for a bit. To finish her midterm project.

Definitely not for the pretty lady.

No, of course not.

Upon sitting down, she couldn't help but sneak glances at you, looking back down at the screen when you looked in her direction. She felt stupid, like a lovestruck fool. Borderline, like a child getting their first actual crush.

In her mind, she was already planning how to approach you without making it awkward. Maybe she'll try to strike up a conversation? But how? Hmmm..

It definitely took a while, being distracted and all, but she was finally able to finish her report. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself mentally to talk to you. She stood up and stretched after logging herself out, pretending to look around the room but in reality she was looking for you.

Much to her dismay, you were no where to be found. A small "fuck" left her lips as she sighed, picking her bag up. The universe must hate her. Giving her an opportunity to see the most beautiful person she's ever seen only for them to leave early? Fuck.

Her thoughts continued to plague her for the rest of the day, even until the next morning. It sounded so silly and so stupid for her to be this bothered, but she really just couldn't forget you. She sighed once again as she stared at the lecture hall walls, face hidden against her palms.

"Excuse me. Do you have an extra pencil?" a voice asked as she felt a tap on her shoulder. Looking up grouchily, her eyes widened immediately.

It was you.

And this time, she wasn't going to let this opportunity pass.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

but what now? (girlfriend headcanons)

✦ Mizu would absolutely remember EVERYTHING about you. Your birthday, MBTI score, favorites, dislikes, and even the silliest things such as what makes you sneeze.

She has a second brain for these, an internal SSD in her brain just for you. You won't even have to remind her about anything, because she already planned it out before you remember.

It's especially great for errands since you don't have to give her a list, she already has a list in her brain. Sometimes, you'd think she forgot because she's so quiet about it but she always finds a way to prove you wrong. If she says she forgot something about you, it's a lie. She never forgets, especially when it comes to her girlfriend.

✦ Would pretend to not understand or know how to do something just so you could teach or show her. Mizu definitely has a lot of skill up her sleeves, but whenever you asked if she knew something that she knew you were good at, she'd pretend not to.

"So I just click like this?" she asked you through the call, clicking on a minion. You had enthusiastically called her, asking if she wanted to learn how to play League of Legends. Unknown to you, your girlfriend already knew how to play and was quite good at it (that's a lie, she's beyond good).

She couldn't help but smile slightly as she watched you nod enthusiastically. The thought of you being so eager to spend time with her was heart-warming. She even made a dummy account just to make her beginner act look believable. "Yeah, you just need to keep this up. So should we queue together?" you asked, sounding really excited.

Mizu chuckled and nodded. "Don't get mad at me, okay?" she joked lightly, accepting your invite. "I won't. I'll be the ADC so you can play support until you get the hang of it, okay?" you said, checking which ADR champions you had cool skins of. Your girlfriend let out a small laugh at your enthusiasm, signaling you to start the queue.

The game went really well. Extremely well.

To your surprise, Mizu was quite a good support. Never accidentally stealing your CS, always being there during a clash, skill shots always hitting, knowing who to focus on. "It's because you're good at teaching people," she said.

But really, you wonder how she knew which items to build when you never even taught her.

✦ Would do the most random or the smallest things for you. She's not good at expressing her feelings so she makes up for it through acts of service and gift giving. Mizu tries her best to be as loving as she can without overwhelming you.

Can you even remember the last time you tied your own shoelaces? You can't. Can you?

Sometimes, you'll be surprised to arrive home with the fridge already stocked even though you had told her that you'll do the groceries on your next day off. The only response you'll get is a shake of her head and a random thing you mentioned you wanted to buy.

Sometimes, she's a bit silly though. Putting in the effort to remove her jacket to shield you from the rain even though you had an umbrella, removing the buckle of your helmet so she'd be the one to put it on you, gifting you random goofy greeting cards.

It's both endearing and a bit funny.

✦ Secretly loves it when you put makeup on her or if you let her do your makeup. Her amazement and fascination skyrockets whenever she watched you put make up on. It was a line of femininity that she was never taught to cross. She'd watch you with deep interest, observing how carefully you did it, how purposeful each step you did was.

"So why do you put it on?" she asks. You hum in thought before shrugging. "It just...makes me feel pretty."

What do you mean it makes you feel pretty?

You were already pretty.

You can't help but laugh at her and her curiosity. "It just does. It feels therapeutic to put on and I like how I look after, it's like expressing myself or something. Like painting but on your face," you explained to her, making her raise an eyebrow.

"But what if you don't like the way it looks?" she asked, picking up your eyeshadow palette and swatching a color on her hand curiously. "I can always take it off," you answered, blending the blush on your cheeks.

She stayed silent for a moment, continuing to swatch the colors on her hand. Her mind still couldn't wrap around the fact that this could make you feel better. Its just color and chemicals, and it washes off too.

Your eyes scanned her face before a soft laugh left your lips. "Here. Want to try?" you offered. Your girlfriend looked a bit hesitant but she wanted to understand.

Was this really fun?

After a few minutes, some struggles and squirming, you finally finished putting some make up on her. You tried your best to make it look as natural and as light as possible, knowing that she wouldn't appreciate the texture of heavy makeup immediately.

Blue eyes scanned over her own face on the mirror. She didn't say anything, but the slight twitch of her lips and the shine in her eyes spoke thousands.

"I want to do it on you too," she said quietly. "At least one thing. Let me try to do it for you."

You heart melted at her excitement. How could you refuse her when she finally finds something she likes? You handed her your eyeliner and sat down. "Here, follow my instructions.."

Mizu actually ended up liking it. Although she enjoyed putting it on you more, she still enjoyed it nonetheless. The amount of practice she put in made you wonder if she was actually better than you now. Somehow, she felt a bit of relief and a bit happy that she finally found something she could do that was considered as 'artistic'.

What started off as a simple "let me try" ended up being part of your routine. This woman never stopped practicing different eyeliner looks and now she just sits on your bed, waiting for you to finish your routine so she can put it on you. Sometimes she'd do a more creative graphic liner look, but on days you had to go to uni or work, she'd do the usual. She could probably do it with her eyes closed.

And the results?

SHARP.

Capital S H A R P.

[hellothisisangle]

Your art reminds me of retro shoujo manga in the best possible way. There is just something about your fashion sense and your line work that gives it these absolutely impeccable vibes.

I just want to study your art under a microscope because its so incredibly pleasing to look at. I rarely ever do art studies but I've literally not been doing anything else for days since I found your account and I'm having a blast.

Also Cae hot.

Ty! ❤️❤️❤️

I’m sure everything I do is influenced by the fact that I read manga since I was kid- all types/genres as long as the characters are lovable. Someone that I recommend, and whose style I look up to, is Irie Aki. Her line work is surreal and seems like it’s moving with how fluid it is.

I’ve also always been into fashion. I believe at one point when I was young I figured I would go to higher education for designing clothes, but chalk that up to the many things I *thought* I would accomplish. In college I took quite a few different general art classes and got taught realism from life studies. Although I default to the cartoony style that I normally put out- it’s funner and faster for me

This is very very rough, but here we go:

I saw this dress recently and saved it to my camera roll for later. So I see this, and yes it’s gorgeous, but I don’t love the neckline. I prefer high neck collars. I change it, but then the silhouette is kind of lacking up top, and more layers are added. Now it’s Spanish looking. I lean into that, putting more pleats into the ruffles than the original dress has. Then when coloring, I tend to see where the dark tones are going to go first (same with lineart- the shadows are the blacks). Grabbing the darkest color from the original, use that as a base. I also want it more saturated because why not. So bright red where the light hits, and something on the same side of the spectrum for the shadow. Shadows are desaturated. Add additional colors by feeling it out. If I was going to add a background or second character I would color balance them together so it’s harmonious in the end. Nothing is strict though, it all depends on what lighting you’re going for

The end result is pretty different from the reference and that’s typically how things go! I think experimentation and understanding your own likes+dislikes is really important! It’s what has propelled myself forward in the most impactful way

*I said it in a previous ask, but having a subject that drives you to keep creating helps a shit ton too. I’m the president of Cae’s fan club, you guys can’t beat me, don’t even try

[burn-before-reading]

Love in the Time of Socialism

joost klein x artist!reader

art, mush, and ramblings about life

warnings: depression (ish), burnout, reader character in some vague mental health funk

word count: 2k

a/n: slight prequel to blue is the colour of your eyes but can be read as stand alone. just same artist reader. vaguely romantic but just ramblings and getting feelings out haha. started this when I was in more of a bad mental state (lol) but im fine now so it got kinda tame by the end of it. still not proofreading anything

title from the song Love in the Time of Socialism by Yellow House

Rpf below the cut—

Normally Joost has to call you because its the only way you will actually look at your phone. Its more often that not you find yourself fixated on planning out your next project, and your friends have to force you back into reality. There was that one time no one had heard from you in over a week and thought you were dead, when you were just working. You hadn’t realized how many texts you missed and apologized for scaring your friends half to death. Especially Joost.

So now you leave your ringer on, and now they call.

Tonight, however, Joost calls and you aren’t in your studio. You are in your bed, where you have been for the entire day. and also most of yesterday. There isn’t a reason in your head specifically why this has happened. you MEANT to get up. Theres a list of chores and things to do just sitting on your desk, but you woke up late, so now nothing will get done. At some point it just became too stressful to even get up and look at it. You roll over and stare at the contact picture of him, smiling with some dumb fish eye lens he thought was funny. You debate not picking up at all.

But you can’t ignore him.

“Hi Joost.” your voice came through the phone more hoarse than intended when you answered, you don’t remember the last time you talked to someone. “Whats going on?”

“the others wanted to go out for drinks tonight, you hadn’t responded so I wanted to check you were joining us.” You could imagine him rocking back and forth on his heels in the middle of his living room while he talked, it was either that or pacing around.

“uhh..” Drinks at a bar was the last thing on your mind. In any other situation you would have loved to be around your friends, but right now you just needed to avoided as much as possible. “Not a good night, tonight. Sorry, I’ll have to join you guys next time.”

Joost felt like something was off, you sounded tired. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll be fine I just… shit brain day. bad brain thats all. It happens.” You did your best to summarize how you felt without actually admitting anything, you weren’t sure how to explain anything anyway.

“ Oh Im sorry, would it be good, if I came over? I can keep you company, if thats okay?”

“you don’t have to, I’ll be fine tomorrow. I want you to have fun. �� you insisted, but he pressed on.

“I don’t mind, the group would understand. Have you eaten today?”

“Like… a meal? yes, or well, no. I had a soda..” You glance at the half drunk soda from the night before, now flat. “and uhhh..”

“I’ll pick something up.” You could hear him on the other end gathering things together, keys, wallet, probably his ipad.

“.. thank you. I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”

-

Joost knocked on your door about an hour later. In that time you were able to get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to change and make yourself somewhat presentable in front of a guest, and to the kitchen to make coffee despite it being 8pm.

You opened it to see Joost with a sheepish smile as he extends his arms out for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi Joost.” you take the step to hug him, feeling his body heat contrast with the cold nighttime. “I’m glad you’re here.” the two of you head inside to your living room where he empties his bag of take out to reveal a couple different thai dishes and egg rolls. It was hard to not admit you weren’t at least a little bit hungry.

The two of you ate in mostly silence, making small talk about different projects you two have going on, or the fact that the two of you were in between projects. He done with touring for the time being and in the process of working on a new album. You loosely avoiding talking about any current work plans but mentioned one or two paintings you finished for a private gallery commission last month.

“ Just some paintings of animals and nature-ish symbolism. Honestly my heart wasn’t really in that one, but it payed the rent so.” you shrug and shove noodles into your mouth.

“Well now you have the time to work on your own stuff, right?” he commented, leaning back into your couch and looking down at you sitting on the floor instead of any of your own furniture. “Draw whatever your heart desires.”

“I mean I guess.. Im just glad to be done with the oil paints for now. I swear i think I was gonna die in my studio from all the chemicals. I dunno, I finished that whole project last month, I haven’t really been very productive since then.” you trail off and Joost gets a concerned expression on his face.

He sinks down from his spot of the couch to join you in the floor. The fluffy rug brushing against his legs as he adjusts his new sitting position.

“Its okay to take a break, you know.”

“I know I know, I just get frustrated. I never seem to have my energy directed towards the right thing. Whenever I have all those big projects from other contractors, I can brainstorm and think of all these interesting ideas I wanna work on, but I can’t because then I would get behind on the art Im being paid to do.”

“mhm.” he nods, to indicate he’s following along.

“ And then whenever Im done with those projects, I just get… tired. and my focus is gone. and Everything just feels…” you gesture the last bit with your hands, scrambling your fingers, to imply your thoughts. You aren’t looking at him, but you can still see him nodding in your peripherals. Joost always seemed to understand your thinking and explanations to things, even if you thought they were messy.

“Do you want to try painting right now?” he asks. you just shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know what I would paint.”

“You can paint our dinner, or, or yourself, or your plants maybe?” he suggested and stands up. “Can I paint too?”

“Oh we’re actually doing this?” Not that you didn’t want to, but this self doubt had creeped into your mind again. That failing to produce something decent would prove that you’ve lost all your talent, your skill.

“yea we can have a little painting party!” he chimed, but he hesitated walking over to your studio to grab stuff, still giving you the space to reject his idea.

you looked away and started nervously tapping your fork against the table.

tap tap tap tap

“…sure. We can use my watercolors, Ive been wanting to use them more often anyway.”

the coffee table became a little more cluttered as you set up the paints for the two of you. Joost using an old set 24 pans and you using a newer set of watercolor tubes you were gifted last year and never opened. You watched as Joost immediately dipped his brush in water and started activating the blue paints, spreading it onto his paper in big random strokes.

“what are you painting?”

“not sure yet, maybe im painting you.” he looks up and smirks. you scrunch your nose up.

“why are you using so much blue. am I a smurf?” you joke and he just shrugs and points to your own paper.

“Just mess around, can’t be any worse than what im doing.”

tap tap tap tap tap tap

you fidget with your own brush for a few seconds lo get before grabbing a big mop brush and wetting your paper with clean water. Taking your smaller brush again, you pour out a small amount of yellow and mix it up with some more water. You hesitate for a moment longer before letting the brush lightly touch the surface, creating a burst of colour on the paper as the colour seeps onto the page. You make a few more random marks before switching to another warm colour and repeating the process, now watching the colours bleeds and mix into each other. You look at Joost paper and see that he is actually now trying to paint you, the blue fortunately was able to be mostly contained to the background.

“Do you ever think about what you would do if you weren’t a musician?” you ask.

“I dunno I think after this I could have a pretty successful art career.” he teases but sees in your face the question is more serious. “I don’t know. I started off with youtube, but if I wasn’t doing that… its hard to think about what my life would be like if I didn’t follow this path.”

“I always have this feeling deep down, that I made a wrong choice somewhere along the line. I was thinking about going to school for psychology, I also wanted to work with animals at one point, be a vet. I enjoy art, don’t get me wrong, but I just worry that in making it my job Ive just drained all the passion I had for it.”

You let the paper dry before staining the page with lines of dark burgundy, creating hands and a human heart. he hums as he listens, not adding anything, but simply letting you vent. beginning to piece together your mood from earlier. “I don’t have any jobs lined up right now, which is what Ive been waiting for, to work on my own stuff, yknow? I haven’t had the time ive wanted to make something for myself for a while. But now I just feel, I feel like ive been frozen.”

“things seem to be okay right now. I like what youve made. ” you look down and see the scribbles youve made with your paint. hands clasped over a broken heart. you shrug and smile softly, signing the bottom.

“Just a scribble, you can have it if you want.” You hand the paper over to him. “thank you for coming by, its… its nice being around you. Helps a bit.”

Joost takes the paper and studies it for a second. “I really like it, maybe I should come by more often.”

“If you bring the food we can have art nights whenever you want.” he holds up his paper. The blue bleeding into your skintone and hair since he didn’t wait for anything to properly dry. “I might stick to my ipad though, I don’t know why you like this paint.” he scrunches his nose at it. you laugh and it makes him smile.

You notice for the first time how bright his eyes look when he smiles, but you brush the thought away.

-

“Feeling a bit better?” he asks as he lingers by the door on his way out.

“a bit. like I said It was just a mood, I was gonna be fine tomorrow most likely… I still appreciate you coming over.”

“Don’t ever be afraid to call or text okay? Im always here to talk if you need. or just to listen.”

“definitely. Ive been meaning to uh, talk to someone about all this stuff anyway, you’re not a professional but ill keep it in mind.”

he grins and goes in for one last hug. you feel him slightly squeeze you and linger a little longer than usual before letting go. With one last glance he waves and head off. You see him pull out a cigarette for the walk back. It takes you a second to close the door. standing there watching him walk off until he turns a corner and disappears. Closing the door you sigh and go the clean up your living room.

You notice he left the portrait he drew of you. signed at the bottom with a smiley face next to his name.

It gets hung up in your studio above your desk.

[elizabethsnuts]

Birthday Surprise

Aaron Hotchner x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Emily and JJ help you and Jack put together a surprise birthday for your dad.

———

The kitchen was an absolute mess, with flour all around the counter, frosting sticking to every surface in the form of child handprints, and the very obvious one too many failed cracked eggs that you insisted you needed to crack.

You stood in the kitchen with Jack, JJ and Emily, the four of you very busy making a big birthday surprise for Hotch when he came back from work. You watched as JJ stirred the icing with her spoon, mesmerised as it moved around the bowl and smoothed out.

“I try?” You asked JJ with excitement in your voice, you loved being a big helper in the surprise birthday for your daddy.

JJ nodded and smiled. “Of course you can, honey.” She picked you up, setting you on the stepping stool so you could reach the counter and stir the icing.

Jack was helping Emily with the streamers and balloons, he was having the best time throwing them all everywhere while Emily did the hard work blowing the balloons up.

Emily looked over at Jack and smiled. “Hey, bud, why don’t you go and work on the banner? It needs its finishing touches!”

Jack nodded quickly in agreement. “Yeah! I’ll put more of N/Ns glitter!”

You quickly looked up at JJ when you heard the word glitter. You loved glitter, you had glitter covering you from your recent arts and crafts on the banner. “Glitter?” You asked with a smirky smile.

JJ laughed slightly, taking in the mess of you. The little apron covered in flour, your cute little face with icing smeared on it, and of course the glitter in your hair, your face and your clothes. “I don’t think we need any more glitter, I think we’ve got enough.”

You just sighed and continued stirring the icing. “Glitter.” No one could tell if you liked glitter because it was shiny and pretty or if you just loved making messes, the guess was usually both.

Eventually, the cake was done and Emily and JJ had to keep you away from the kitchen before you could dip your little fingers into it, they knew you wouldn’t be able to resist that urge.

“Cake lonely.” You pointed to the cake sitting in the kitchen, you wanted a way in there.

Emily shook her head and laughed. “The cake is not lonely, it’s got the icing and all the toppings there for friends. Your dad will be home soon and look! We’ve finished everything on time!” Emily smiled and ruffled your now glitter-free hair.

“Y/N you can’t eat the cake until Daddy gets home!” Jack laughed and chucked his stuffed bear at you which earned a laugh from your little mouth.

When Hotch arrived home, he definitely did get surprised. You all popped up in excitement, yelling Happy Birthday, the house littered with streamers and balloons, and a big banner that said ‘Happy Birthday Daddy!’ in big bold letters, hung from the ceiling.

“Happy birthday Daddy!” You squealed loudly and ran over, hugging him tight and showing him a card you’d made just for him. “For you, for you!”

Aaron smiled a little wider at the sight of the surprise. “You guys surprised me so well!” He chuckled and looked at your card. It was covered in paint, pen drawings, random buttons and tape but most of all, glitter. “Wow Y/N this is just an absolutely gorgeous card you’ve made for me.”

You smiled widely and nodded. “Daddy, you like, you like?” You jumped up and down excitedly, you were so excited to give him your card.

“Do I like it? Y/N I love it! I’m going to keep it for forever.” Aaron smiled and hugged you tightly.

By the time the cake rolled around, you were jumping around the place. You needed that cake in your belly right at that moment. You watched your daddy closely as he cut the cake and got the first slice.

You took this as your cue to get some now as Aaron had taken some. You quickly realised you couldn’t have the knife so you resorted to your hands, grabbing a chunk and shoving it in your mouth.

“Good cake!” You cheered and jumped around the house. Aaron knew the sugar rush he’d have to deal with later but he’d just enjoy the moment now.

Aaron hugged both you and Jack close, grateful for his two loving children. With Haley not around anymore, he couldn’t be more appreciative of Emily and JJ who stepped up and made sure that you and Jack could give him the best birthday ever.

[girliism]

rockstar!patrick zweig who thinks being in a rock band is the best thing to ever happen to him. the endless access to fame, money, girls, and boys. he was more than happy that he joined when his childhood friend brought it up one day while they were chilling in one of the many rooms at casa zweig.

“dude i think we should start a band.” art donaldson his closes and probably only person worthy of “the best friend” title blurts out randomly. “what?” patrick huffed. “we’re sixteen and have never played an instrument, you’re crazy.” the conversation ended after that as they went back to watching their movie. but still they found themselves later that night in their respective homes watching youtube video after youtube video on how to play different instruments.

that was seven years ago, and thanks to arts sudden interest (and hard work from all three of them) the challengers were everywhere, sooo why were they playing some venue in tiny college town. “oh, don’t act so upset pat, this whole week you’ll be surrounded by drunk easy college students, your favorite.” tashi patted her hands on his shoulders trying to reassure him. patrick groaned “with a number one song on billboard hot 100 all i’m saying is we should be selling out stadiums”

art laughed shaking his head. “haven’t you ever heard of humble beginnings?” at this patrick mocked him in a higher pitched voice with a roll of his eyes.

“hey guys, you’re on in five” some stage manager popped into their dressing room to say. standing up the three of them get miced up and start doing vocal warm ups to get ready.

“ok, huddle up.” tashi said gathering the two boys up in a small circle. “whether it’s performing in front three mice or 3 million people we give it our all ok.” nodding they all take a couple deep breaths putting their heads together before walking out to the stage.

the crowd was insane to say the least, singing along to all the songs louder than the band themselves. it almost hurt them to have to leave the stage. almost.. because what’s better than a concert? the wild after party full of fans eager to please their favorite band member that comes after.

“ughhh, why does she do this?” art groaned from the kitchen as he watched tashi shove her tongue down some random guys throat. “i think i’m gonna be sick.” art downed whatever was in his cup in one gulp before pouring another.

“when will man up and just ask her to be exclusive, tell her you’re more than just a warm body to use for when she’s feeling bored.” patrick mumble into his cup looking around not really caring for art’s pinning at the moment. “tashi doesn’t do exclusive you know this.”

whatever art was saying sounds completely muffled to his ears as he spots you. sitting there looking bored out of your mind as if you’d rather be anywhere else. he’s got to talk to you he’s got to know you. it’s like you’re pulling him in without even trying like some kind of siren that drags sailors to their death with ease.

“yeah art that sounds great.” he says absentmindedly as he goes to walk over to you leaving his friend alone, though not for long.

he plops down next to you. do all girls smell this good? he thinks before saying. “you here alone?”

eek ok that’s all for now!! part one part three

[stay-dazed]

stray kids react to: a horror movie

notes: female reader. i suppose there's slight angst due to scary movie scenes and fear reactions?

chan: you adore horror movies. you can think back on your childhood, the movies you watched with your parents every saturday, like a fun family tradition. and with chan in your life, you’re eager to share it with him. you had actually mentioned it in passing before, when you guys were still just friends, but it never came up again. so you decide to bring it up tonight (a saturday, of course), at chan’s dorm room.

after kicking off your shoes and getting settled on his uncomfortably firm bed, you ask him,” hey channie? i was just wondering, would you like to start watching scary movies with me every saturday? like how my family used to.”

chan stops midway through tossing aside his own shoes, his hands stiff under the influence of his wrist braces. he looks over his shoulder at you, his mind obviously working overtime to process what you asked him. “really?”

“of course, i’d love for you to! is that alright?”

“no, yeah, that’s fine!” he finishes tossing his shoes aside and runs his fingers through his curls,” just keep in mind baby, i’m not exactly good with scary stuff..”

oh.. you suppose that’s true. you’ve certainly seen the stray kids’ escape room videos enough times. but no matter!

“it’s okay, channie! we won’t watch anything intense, i promise.”

so you both get under the covers and chan pulls up his laptop. you both settle on the original friday the 13th movie. this was actually one of your dad’s favorites growing up, so you’re happy to see it again. chan.. well, he puts on a brave face. no screaming, no flinching, nothing. but inside, the practical effects are shaving off a couple years of his life. even though it is kinda fun.

“this is your version of not intense? well yeah, it is good.. just- let me hold your arm.”

minho: minho has never been one to scare easily. sure he might flinch if someone were to scream at him out of nowhere, but as a general rule nothing really scares or startles him. so of course he’s your partner in crime when it comes to getting your horror fix. strolling through cliche “haunted” corn mazes, attending all-day horror conventions, daring one another to buy weird and almost certainly cursed little tidbits from an antique store, you name it.

today though, it’s just a horror movie.

you find it on a streaming service, and while you’ve never heard of it before, judging by the description it seems like a pretty good psychological horror. of course minho immediately points out the cover art as stupid (and he may be right) but hey, at least it has a 4.3 star rating.

minho takes a moment to run to the kitchen and make some popcorn. once it’s all popped and poured into a large, stained bowl that’s been used for many a movie date, he makes sure to add his special ingredient: golden syrup. just something to give it some sweetness. others may find it to be a gross food combination, but after he introduced it to you, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

when he comes back to the living room, popcorn bowl in hand, he sees the cozy nest of blankets and pillows that you put together on the couch. his lips twitch into a tiny smile and he carefully places himself next to you in the nest, close enough that his thigh presses comfortingly against yours. snuggled against minho’s side, you press play on the movie, and the popcorn disappears within the first five minutes or so.

the movie’s pretty good, especially at the psychological aspect. but the few attempts at jumpscares are a little pathetic to say the least. minho gets a good scoff out of them. by the time the credits roll, you’re both discussing what you think the film was trying to portray to the audience. neither of you have the intention of leaving the nest anytime soon.

“no y/n, it’s obvious it’s about how the ignorance of tourism leads to the decline of culturally important areas. they just needed a weird little scarecrow to get the point across.”

changbin: changbin doesn’t mind watching scary things with you occasionally, but he’ll be screaming the entire time. he’s naturally a loud and excitable person anyway, but add elements of plagues or zombies and there’s a chance you’ll be getting another noise complaint from the lady in the apartment below you.

but it’s fun either way. so here you are tonight, watching the wailing with changbin, with plagues and zombies and all that good stuff.

you both had a good day today. you slept in for a good portion of the morning while changbin was at the studio before heading to the gym together later in the evening (all you really did were some stretches while you watched changbin do the harder workouts), went out to a good restaurant afterward, and came back to the dorm to watch a movie or two together. unfortunately for changbin, the first movie you pick just so happens to be one he finds terrifying. but you’ve never seen it before and you’re pretty curious.

you curl up against your boyfriend on the couch, nice and cozy with a warm drink in hand, but to your eardrums’ demise. at each minor jumpscare or suspenseful moment changbin screams as loud as his lungs allow him to, and eventually you end up having to move across the couch from him in order to protect your ears. the movie ends in a flurry of confusion as you understandably had a harder time than usual paying attention.

“what do you mean your ears are ringing? i wasn’t that bad! you’re the one who's being dramatic, jagiya.”

hyunjin: hyunjin is a fairly dramatic person, as you’ve always known, and a lot of his emotion comes out in artistic expression. therefore, you enjoy combining both of your passions by watching what are considered artistic horror movies. granted, those kinds of movies tend to be the most twisted ones of all, but at least it’s something you two can pause and talk about for a while together. you’ve searched around online recently to find an artistic horror movie you haven’t yet seen together, and eventually you found one.

so here you and hyunjin sit, comfy on your bed. hyunjin just got done with schedules and wanted to spend the rest of the night relaxing with you, watching some horribly messed up movie while snacking on candy he picked up from the convenience store on his way over. both of you have your gaze locked on the tv screen ahead as you lean against hyunjin’s chest, munching on the candies he puts to your lips now and again. his left hand remains less busy, resting on your waist and rubbing little comforting circles against the fabric of your pajama shirt with his thumb. by now he does this out of habit, not even realizing his thumb is moving.

luckily the movie doesn’t seem to have any jumpscares (your ears are spared from your boyfriend’s shrieks this time) but the increasingly unsettling, haunting vibes emanating from it are enough to have him watching through his fingers eventually, his arm no longer wrapped around you. the body horror doesn’t seem to help much.

you look up at hyunjin at one point, seeing his wide, shiny eyes watching the tv intently despite the obvious fear he has. you can’t help but giggle. not because you find his fear funny, but because he’s just so cute. you opt to wrap your arms around him instead, keeping your big baby safe in your embrace. he gratefully accepts and slides down in the bed a bit so he fits better against your chest.

unlike usual, you guys didn’t pause the movie during the entire two and a half hour runtime. but to be fair your arms were a bit full. once the credits begin to run, hyunjin quickly sits up in your arms and smooths his hair down, trying to appear put together.

"it wasn't even that bad. why are you laughing??"

jisung: one of the first things you and jisung bonded over was the fact both of you struggle with anxiety to some extent. the vulnerability you were able to share with each other was such a relief, and ultimately led to the relationship you two now share together. but despite the fact you and jisung get easily startled - jisung more so than you - you both are champs when it comes to all things horror.

jisung may jump into the stratosphere when he hears a balloon pop, but he talks excitedly every time you two watch a horror movie. the more gorey and psychologically damaging, the better. today, on jisung’s rare day off, it just makes sense to start a horror movie marathon at 10 in the morning. so here you two sit on your couch, deciding on which of the lined up movies to watch first.

ultimately, you two settle on the mist. it’s not a particularly intense horror movie, but it is one of your favorites as ‘creature feature’ is your favorite subgenre of horror. you can fondly think back on your childhood, watching the movie first with your mother. eventually it became your comfort movie, playing it in the background while doing things around the house. jisung hasn’t seen it before, at least not that he can remember, so he looks forward to seeing what about the movie you enjoy so much.

in fact, he’s so excited he talks throughout the movie, pointing out the little things he notices or things he finds the most fun. you don’t mind it, of course. you add to the conversation, smiling at jisung in entertainment. when you think about it, it really is entertaining that the man who will throw himself to the floor at the sound of a balloon popping can watch a man get chomped on by a pterobuzzard so easily. you chuckle, and can’t help but lean over and plant a kiss on jisung’s cheek.

"wh- what was that for? i'm cute? but i didn't even do anything?"

felix: you’ve always indulged in your horror fixes on your own time, just because it was more fun and convenient that way. and, on top of that, anything horror related isn’t exactly your boyfriend’s strong suit. but maybe tonight will be different!

you’re scrolling on your streaming service, looking for anything you haven’t seen at least 5 times already, when you come across the perfect one in the new releases. it’s one you haven’t seen since you were in your teens, when you and your siblings enjoyed watching it together and poking fun at the characters. it’s nothing too scary, honestly. so you call felix from his room to the living room.

he waddles up to you, his large pajama shirt bunched up slightly at his waist and his house slippers squeaking on the floor and his hair sticking up at odd ends. you smile at him, your heart warm looking at your adorable boyfriend.

“hi baby. were you napping?”

“mm-mm.”

“okay. would you like to watch a movie with me then?”

“ooh, okay!” he hurries to your side, snuggling up next to you and pulling the couch blanket over both of your laps. “what movie are we watching?”

“it’s called the strangers.”

one look at the movie’s cover art, at the three masked figures, and felix feels his body tense a bit. you quickly hop in,” it’s okay lixie! it’s really more of a thriller or suspense movie than a horror one.”

he nods slowly,“ okay..”

45 minutes in and felix is peeking from behind a couch pillow, jumping at the smallest sounds or view of the strangers. occasionally, he also lets out little surprised squeaks. he presses even closer against your side, threatening to crawl right on top of you.

you pout at the sight. your poor baby. you wrap your arms securely around his small frame, letting him ditch the pillow and hide his face in your neck. it tickles but it’s okay.

“hey sunshine, would you like to watch something else?” you feel him nod against your neck.

"can we watch pponyo..?" pponyo it is.

after a little while, felix settles back down, his shoulders slowly loosening after being so tense. although he still refuses to let go of you.

"it's okay, baby, i know you didn't mean to scare me. you might have to go to the bathroom with me tonight though."

seungmin: you love when horror movies affect you, particularly in a psychological sense. when horror movies make your heart speed up in your chest, and you need to hyperfocus on every potential detail or threat. but most of all, you love when horror movies are just absolutely out-of-this-world stupid; bonus points if they were produced in the 50’s-80’s.

so that’s what you and seungmin watch together most of all; old b-grade horror movies that the two of you can laugh at and make fun of together. last week it was the blob, and this week it’s killer klowns from outer space.

you lean your back against the arm of the couch and lay your legs across seungmin’s lap, where he absentmindedly pats or rubs them with his red-stained fingertips, sometimes giving your feet a tickle to bother you. seungmin’s shiny eyes are focused on the tv screen, an empty hot cheetos bag set beside him.

seungmin is the first to poke fun at the clown that captures people by distracting them with shadow puppets. “imagine being over the age of 6 and being lured in by shadow puppetry.”

you respond,” to be fair, if i saw someone make a hyper-realistic dinosaur shadow with their hands, i’d also be pretty impressed.”

“and that’s why you’d die first in the alien clown apocalypse.”

you give him an unamused glance, to which he just smiles back, in all his puppy-like charm. you roll your eyes and turn back to the tv screen, but can’t quite help the little smile from creeping up on your face as well.

“you’re an idiot, kim seungmin.”

the jokes and taunting continue throughout the duration of the movie. mostly towards the painfully 80’s characters, but occasionally towards one another. you really hadn’t planned on getting into such a debate about who would survive in the unlikely scenario that clowns from another planet would come to earth and start cotton candy-ifying the human race.

“obviously i’d just eat through the cotton candy like a sane person. look if you meet your demise to fluffy sugar, that’s between you and god.”

jeongin: if there’s one thing about your boyfriend, it’s that he doesn’t get scared or grossed-out easily. unlike you, who loves horror movies with a bit of gore in them just as much as the next person, but you can’t help cringing at it every single time. sometimes, depending on which part of the body is being injured, you have to just hide your face completely.

like right now, as you hide your face in jeongin’s shoulder, listening to the sounds of the train stewardess get her throat chomped on by a zombie.

jeongin just wanted to relax after a strenuous schedule today, surrounded by the comfort that you bring. you were happy to oblige, and you were excited to see which horror movie he’d pick out this time (you picked last time). and for the second time within the past month or so, he chose train to busan.

you love the movie, of course, but the first couple rampage scenes can be a bit much for you. so you snuggle even closer to jeongin, almost as if you were attempting to crawl into his skin for safety.

he can’t help but chuckle at you, which you can feel rumble through his arm. it’s just because you’re acting all cute. and it’s a little bit funny.

“it’s over. you can look now, babe.” he says, nudging you with the arm that you’re holding onto to get your attention.

you peek back out and continue watching the chaos unfold on the screen, as if nothing happened. with your head still on jeongin’s shoulder, you find yourself surrounded by his comforting aura as well, the smell of the body wash you bought for him a nice familiarity. the movie continues without much eventfulness. jisung walks into the kitchen very loudly at one point, and jeongin has to use the bathroom midway through.

but now, it’s reached the end of the movie. and if there’s one thing about your boyfriend… it’s that he’s not a man afraid to cry.

so here you both sit, wrapped up in each other’s arms under a blanket on the couch, crying as the end scenes play.

“god this movie sucks.” you sniffle.

“i know. it’s great, isn’t it?”

[aphroditeinthesea]

I love your work so much omg 😭 🙏🏻 you’re such a good writer 🫶🏻

I saw you were looking for requests 👀 and I was wondering if you’d be willingly to do Leo Valdez x f!reader where they are kinda rivals (yk they just bicker all the time) both working on the argo together or making weapons with a team in the forge. But then some guy joins their team and starts mansplaining the basic equipment. There’s just situation after situation where the reader will explain something to the guy and he won’t listen but then the second Leo says it he gets it. And at first Leo kinda notices but just thinks it’s because he’s in charge and stuff. At some point though he overhears the guy showing her how to do something (the wrong way) and he’s like “yo back off man, she knows what she’s doing”. Maybe he even protects her from open flames when the guy almost burns her handling the equipment wrong (something she’d told him a million times before)?? Maybe both happen idk?? The two just become close after that and he ends up confessing or something

Sorry about how much I wrote 😭 your request rules said you liked the requests to be specific and I wasn’t sure how in-depth to write… so if that’s too much you can totally take a bunch of it out lol (I work with power tools because I’m an arts major and I’ve had so many guys trying to explain basic power tools to me… so this has been on my mind for MONTHSSS)

“ i’m a feminist, obviously (but i wouldn’t really mind him saving me) ”

leo valdez x fem!reader 🔨

⚠️ o/c being creepy, mansplaining, almost getting set on fire

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“That’s not,” Y/N stormed over to the boy. She grabbed the wrench out of his hands and began turning it, “righty tighty, lefty loosey.”

“What did you just say to me?” He scoffed.

“You were turning your wrench the wrong way, Valdez,” she replied, handing the tool back to him.

He grabbed it from her, crossing his arms, “for your information, that’s exactly how I wanted it.”

She rolled her eyes, “did you sleep, like at all?”

“A little.”

She huffed, “get some sleep, I’ll clean up.”

“No,” he defended, “I just need to finish this up-”

“If you try to use power tools why you're half asleep, you'll end up getting yourself killed,” she grabbed the wrench from him again, “and you know who’ll have to clean up your dead body? Me, and that’s gross.”

“You're too good to me.”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckled, wiping his forehead, “okay, fine. I’m heading out.”

“Bye,” she waved him off.

“See you later, sweet cheeks.”

“Shut up!”

He closed the door of bunker nine behind him, leaving her alone. She sighed with relief, tightening a few loose screws.

She hummed to herself as she began cleaning the mess around her. She picked up some tools, placing them back on their shelves.

“Nice song.”

She jumped at the voice. She turned around to see a boy standing by the stairs. “What are you doing?”

“I’m Marcus,” he replied, walking closer to her, causing her to slowly back up, “son of Hermes.”

“Well, what are you doing here?”

He put a hand on the ship, “heard you're working on this Argo thing, figured I could give a few pointers.”

She grabbed a toolbox, quickly walking away, “we don't need any help, thanks though.”

“Come on,” he smiled, following her, “you can always use some help, the more the merrier, right?”

“Take it up with Leo,” she answered, avoiding eye contact with her. She rushed to collect her things and made an escape to the door.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“I’m fine,” she sighed, opening the door and walking out.

She almost forgot about the incident the next day when she walked into the bunker. She found Leo with an annoyed look on his face, digging through a toolbox.

“What’s up with you, Bernard?” She commented as she walked towards the son of Hephaestus. She knew it was a stupid name, but she did love how much he hated it. She also loved the fact that he didn't understand it (she started using it more after finding out he had never seen the Santa Clause movies).

He sighed, “Mr. Macho over there,” he nodded his head toward the boy from the night before playing with a blowtorch. “He convinced Chiron that he should be working on this, too.”

She scrunched her face, “he gives me the creeps.”

“You know him?”

“He came in here last night after you left,” she explained, “I think he has a thing for me or something.”

Leo’s face tensed, his fist clenching around the hammer he held, “you think?”

“Hope not.” She took a deep breath before walking past the tall boy to grab some extra wood.

“Hey,” he grinned at her, “miss me?”

She forced a smile, walking away from him, “you know it.” She cursed herself for trying so hard to be nice to the little fucker, but she really didnt feel like starting something right then.

The day went on with her desperately trying to ignore his comments towards her. She found herself staying by Leo’s side in hopes that Marcus would think they were dating. As much as the idea grossed her out, it was better than some weirdo thinking he had a chance with her.

“I’m gonna head out,” Marcus mentioned, wiping off his hands with a rag.

“Bye,” Leo spoke flatly. Y/N stayed silent but let out a breath of relief when the boy walked out.

Leo looked up at her, noticing her change in demeanor, “are you okay?”

“What?” She met his eyes, “yeah, yeah,” she nodded, “I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, “are you sure? Because I can figure out a way to get him out of here, if you want?”

She shook her head, “thanks, Leo. But, I’m fine, really.”

“Okay,” he breathed out before looking back to continue what he was doing.

She grabbed the blowtorch Marcus had formerly been using. She began using it (i don't know how they work i’m sorry), when Marcus walked back into the bunker, he immediately rushed over to her.

She rolled her eyes as he wrapped his hands around hers, “you're using it wrong.”

“I don't think I am.”

“No, you hold it like this-”

“She knows what she’s doing,” Leo called over.

Marcus just shook his head, “see when you do this,” soon the flames blew back towards them. Marcus threw the blowtorch down in the direction of Y/N in a panic. The flames spewed out and before Y/N could react, she felt herself pulled into a corner, tanned arms wrapped around her.

“What’s the matter with you?!” Leo yelled, his arms tightening.

“Look, it was her fault,” the son of Hermes motioned his hand towards the girl.

“Are you kidding? Since she’s been here, nobody’s almost died (italic). Then the second you walk in you almost turn her into toast!”

She nervously sighed. She slowly reached her hands up to hold onto his forearms, brushing her thumb against his skin.

“You shouldn't have a girl working on this in the first place, there's no way she knows anything about this!”

Leo took a deep breath before yelling once again, “get out!”

“What?” The boy scoffed.

“Get out!”

Her heart rate quickened. Despite all her fighting with him, she had never seen him this angry. She watched as Marcus shook his head before stomping out of the bunker.

Leo’s grip on her loosened, letting turn around to look at him, “are you okay?” He asked, briefly looking her up and down for any wounds.

She nodded, “I’m okay,” she looked up at his face, yet avoiding eye contact, “thank you.”

He softly smiled down at her, “yeah, well, that guy was an ass.”

She giggled, nodding in agreement.

“Don't worry, I’ll set him on fire next time I see him.”

She wrapped her arms around his torso, “thanks, really.”

“Of course,” he nestled his nose into her hair, “if anything happened to you, I think I would have actually killed him.”

“Good to know.”

[caustinen]

for the Hollywood AU,

How would it go down if someone was flirting (trying to) with Gale, I’m imagining at some sort of gala or event. Knowing how weird/creepy some people in Hollywood can be, I’d imagine John is very protective. But I wonder how he’d react, especially when he knows people are watching, and he has to keep is PR face up

Hi anon!! Thank you for this lovely idea, I love jealous/protective Bucky so much and can definitely imagine a lot of hc’s in this universe for them as well 😍 Slight nsfw under the cut!!

hollywood au! jealous bucky <3

You are very right, it’s easy to imagine quite upsetting things from behind the scenes if Hollywood, and I’ll try to keep it lighthearted enough to enjoy 😅 I’d think Bucky would be more stressed than he’d let on at their first few events together, exactly like you said because he has to keep his pr-image in mind but also he knows what kind of people the industry has in powerful places and Gale is absolutely gorgeous and can easily attract attention. He’s constantly holding his hand and tugging him after him when he wants to steer clear of certain people, and while Gale tries to tell him he can handle himself, that he has been to these events before for work he secretly likes it that Bucky is so particular about him feeling safe. Bucky also knows very well Gale is fine by himself and knows how to handle it probably even more professionally than he would he doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable for even a little bit.

They are on the top of the entertainement news for months so naturally they get a lot of attention at events and galas too. Bucky doesn’t miss the wandering eyes and too long handshakes and laughing a bit too loudlys that Gale receives but he doesn’t mind per ce; Gale is always nervous/shy before coming, so it’s nice to have kind faces around him. That being said, he will always have a hand on the small of his back or the back of his chair, and he’s made an art of playing footsie under table cloths no matter where Gale is seated compared to him — they’ve talked about it and he knows that Gale doesn’t find it controlling but comforting to know he’s around as he has to learn to present himself in this new way. Bucky would get super passive aggressive with anyone getting too flirty 😂

One time they’re at a charity gala and somehow Bucky has convinced Gale to dance with him. It’s a slowdance so they’re basically just swinging side to side slowly in what is almost a hug more than proper dance posture. Gale is relaxing into it after a while, almost enjoying himself even, when John nods his head towards the back of the ballroom. Gale looks up at him, confused.

”Have you noticed you’ve been getting particularly many glances today? Espescially from that guy over there?” Gale makes a sound indicating he’s completely lost on what Bucky’s talking about, and the older chuckles and turns them around so he can subtly point out the man who is, indeed, looking their way until Gale turns to look to him.

”… Okay?” Gale is still confused. Bucky rolls his eyes — Gale still doesn’t realize how insanely hot he is effortlessly, and the reactions he gets from people around him. ”He want’s you so bad,” he says conversationally, gaining an eye roll from his partner. But John can feel a familiar burn in his guts, can admit he’s feeling just a bit jealous because of how openly the man is ogling a man who is very publically known to be his fiancé. ”Hm. He wants to take you home and get you out of this sexy little thing.”

Before Gale can give him his worst case of unimpressed expression (he’s wearing a light gray three piece suit that makes him look EXPENSIVE but Gale doesn’t understand how much so) Bucky keeps going (he’s half hard from jealousy and being able to be this close to Buck in public after all these years); ”Too bad he doesn’t get to.” The song has a sped-up bridge and Bucky manages to take Gale by surprise and spin him around, making him grunt but also giggle dispite himself. When he pulls him close again he goes straight back to whispering in his ear, hands dropping to his ass after making sure the dancefloor is so filled with people they won’t see him do so. ”He’s gonna go home horny and alone while I’ll have you sitting on my face and moaning my name so loud we get another notice from the neighbours.”

Gale’s shocked exhale against his neck feels like a reward. ”John.” ”Yeah, just like that.” John can tell from his face he’d be smacked right about now if they weren’t in polite society. Gale looks around them to see if anyone has heard but no one pays them attention right now. He’s the one whoe leans closer to John’s ear this time. ”Was this just your clever plan of getting me to dance with you for another song? Knowing I can’t walk back to the table like this?” Bucky smirks down to him showing his teeth and while Gale pulls his hands up from his ass to more approrpiately up his waist, he presses a slight kiss to his lips too. ”I think you sent your message, caveman. Get your mind our of the gutter and have patience for one hour more or so, then we can go.”

Bucky might come off possessive but really he’s just a simp and the simplest words from Gale are his law; besides, he knows he’s going home with him, so he’s the luckiest man alive.

[i’m so out of habit with writing i hope you liked it anyway!!]

[gamerwoo]

Hyunjin: Age-Restricted (Part Eighteen)

Characters: Hyunjin x female reader (ft other skz members)

Genre/warnings: nanny!reader, ex-porn star/neighbor!hyunjin, generally inexperienced and painfully shy virgin!reader, fluff, humor, mentions of porn and sex work, hyunjin is stupid in love and also has a thing for tall girls (it doesn't necessarily say reader is taller than him but he does beg her to wear heels so interpret that how you want), hyunjin is very much not straight, lots and lots of flirting and teasing, mentions of kinks and stuff but no smut happens sorry <;3 (minors dni!!!)

Word count: 6,074

Summary: You think it’s luck when the new family you nanny for is so stupid rich that they rent you a fancy new apartment just so you can live closer to them. You think it’s luck when the guy across the hall is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your entire life and makes an effort to talk to you. But that’s just about where your luck runs out, because Hyunjin is more out of your league than you could ever imagine, and you’re just some hopeless virgin who never had good luck in the first place.

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He knew you’d have questions. Hyunjin expected nothing less, but you made sure to tell him you were curious but would only ask questions if he was comfortable with it. Considering you found out everything about him when he’d ended things, you never really got a chance to ask him anything. But he was 100% okay with answering any question you had, and he planned on being fully open and honest.

That first night that Hyunjin apologized, he was fully prepared to go home alone, but you told him he could stay. Even if you were mad still, you missed him. And that was where your questioning started.

“So then how did you get into porn?” was your first question, and it was the one he expected to be first.

He had gone to his apartment to change into clothes to sleep in, and the two of you were laying in your bed, inhumanly close. You missed each other and he didn’t know how to tell you that he still didn’t feel close enough even with your entire body on top of his without sounding weird.

“Changbin,” he stated simply.

“So you both got into porn when he said he was gonna do it?” you assumed.

He nodded, “I also really needed money, aaaaand I was basically going nowhere. I really liked art and I wanted to be an artist, but getting into that industry is fucking hard, so I just…went for porn. It was pretty easy for anyone to get into, anyway – at least in that area of Vegas. There were so many sleazeballs looking for amateurs.”

“So how’d it go in the beginning?”

“Honestly, shockingly well,” he scoffed. “I don’t mean to, like, sound like I’m bragging, but I kind of took off almost instantly. Directors and producers and shit were saying I just had the perfect face and a good body, and everyone wanted to have me in their videos. It was actually really overwhelming, but I needed all the money I could get so I just ran with it.”

“That actually sounds kind of terrifying,” you nodded.

“Oh, I think you would’ve gone into shock and died,” he nodded along with you.

You narrowed your eyes at him and he just grinned.

“Anyway,” you stated.

“Anyway,” he laughed.

“What about Changbin?”

“He was only a little salty that I was getting more jobs than him, but he worked his way up there. Plus, I paid most of our rent so he couldn’t complain that much.”

You suddenly realized something, letting out a gasp, “Wait, were you the mutual friend that got him and Kit together?”

“Yup.”

“What happened?!” you squealed.

“‘Kay, so as I said, I got popular fast. I caught the attention of bigger producers and directors who worked with bigger names. Big names like…”

“Kat Valentyne,” you finished, saying her name with pizazz and doing spirit fingers to really sell her porn name.

He laughed and rolled his eyes, his laugh making you shake as you laid face-down on top of him, “She’s been a big name almost since she started. Word got out to the people she went to school with that she got hot and was in porn, so it got spread around along with old photos of her, so it kinda made headlines online.

“But anyway, I got cast in a scene opposite her, and I knew–”

“Hang on a minute,” you interrupted him, and that was when he realized what he’d just given away. “So you mean to tell me that you fucked Kit?”

He was quick to point a finger at you and look you dead in the eyes, “I never had feelings for her and I still don’t. Never will.”

“No, Hyunjin–” you sighed and shook your head. “You’re telling me that you were mad that she only flirted with me and looked at me a certain way, but you already had sex with her?! That’s not even fair!”

All he did in response was roll his eyes before continuing, “Anyway, so I knew Changbin had a fat fucking crush on her since forever, so I figured I’d throw his name out there. I showed her a couple photos of him and she thought he was cute aaaaand yeah. Rest is history.”

“I still can’t believe you got mad when you had sex with Kit…” you mumbled.

“Are you even upset that I had sex with her or just that I got jealous over her?”

“I know it was your job,” you scoffed, waving away his concern. “I trust you. I mean, she’s also dating your best friend.”

“I also just don’t want to date her,” he added.

“But how come you get to fuck her, but god forbid she look at me the wrong way?” you huffed.

“I think it’s suddenly bedtime,” he told you before he pulled the covers up over your head, and then rolled over on top of you.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” you squealed between laughs.

“Can’t hear you, goodnight!”

-

Hyunjin wanted to do the proper thing: take you on a fancy date. And what better way to do that than using your ex-boss’ certificate to go to that fancy restaurant? It seemed like a very fitting way to celebrate the two of you making up.

Unfortunately, the only fancy thing you owned was your old prom dresses, so that meant shopping.

As far as you could tell, Hyunjin would be an expert at fancy. While you mostly ever saw him in t-shirts and sweatshirts – you had still seen him in other clothes like jeans, button-ups, and such – they were always expensive. So he must’ve owned fancy clothing, right? He must’ve known what rich people considered acceptable since clearly the dude was loaded.

You were pretty sure you’d never seen someone look so goddamn good in just some black jeans and a baggy button-up shirt with one half tucked in, but Hyunjin was just another level. You were wondering if he was even human, actually. Maybe he was actually an android or something.

“You’re staring,” he noted as you watched him brush through his dark hair before leaving the apartment.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

He just laughed, eyes turning into crescent moons.

You missed his smile.

While you were browsing through clothes at a store you felt far too out of place in, Hyunjin mentioned, “Pick out whatever you like. I’ll cover it.”

“Um, no?” you turned around to tell him. “You’re already paying for my apartment – which, by the way, still stop.”

“I can afford it, don’t worry about it,” he promised, waving the worry away.

Which then sparked more questions about him.

“Did you just make a ton of money back then?” you wondered.

He shrugged, “More than most. I did save most of it, but– …Actually, we’ll talk more in the car. I gotta take you somewhere for you to get it.”

“Get what?”

“It.”

You made a face at him and rolled your eyes before going back to looking at dresses, “So, uh…what’s considered…fancy?”

“Do you want form fitting or more flowy?” he asked as he started perusing the racks as well.

“Do you also want to pay for my shapewear?” you asked sarcastically.

He shrugged, “If you think you need it, I’ll buy whatever you want.”

You frowned, obviously not happy with his answer. But again, he grinned back at you.

-

Dress and shoes acquired, you were back in Hyunjin’s car, driving to an unknown location. All he’d said was, “I’m gonna show you something.”

You didn’t plan on getting shoes, but Hyunjin was quick to ask after picking out a dress if you had any shoes for the occasion. You’d said something about wanting to find just a cute pair of flats, but Hyunjin turned to face you with wide eyes.

“Please wear heels,” he begged, clinging onto your arms for dear life.

“I never wear heels,” you told him. “I’ll be too tall.”

“No you won’t,” he stated very seriously. “Wear. Heels.”

You did end up getting a pair of heels that you were totally not persuaded to get due to the fact you were very positive that Hyunjin found it hot when you were taller. As if he wouldn’t have bought them for you anyway because he liked how you looked in them. If the way he eyed you up and down and almost drooled on the marbled floor was any indication.

“Soooo,” Hyunjin began, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, “have you ever noticed anything in my apartment?”

“Are we talking about the mirrors?” you asked.

“You need to get past the mirrors, baby.”

“So that’s a no. What was I supposed to notice?”

He chuckled, “Maybe something on the walls…?”

“Art!” you gasped, recalling the times you’d been over and noticed that large canvases were always evenly spaced across the walls of the hallway, and a few were put in his living room and his kitchen.

He nodded, “Very good. What about the art?”

“It’s…there!” you pointed out, much less enthusiastically. “It’s on the walls!”

Thank god he was stopped at a stop sign because he looked at you with an unamused look for a painfully long time.

“Hyunjin, when have I ever had time to sit in your apartment and look at the art?” you asked him, trying to prove a point. “We were usually in your bedroom, and even when we were on the couch, we were cuddling and watching something or laying down and watching something, or we weren’t even watching anything because we were doing other things!”

He scoffed with a wide smile and asked, “You can’t even say making out? You have to say ‘other things’?”

“What about the art, Hyunjin?” you asked sharply, wanting him to move on from the route he was about to take.

After a bit of laughing, Hyunjin replied, “Most of the art has the same signature.”

“That’s so interesting,” you deadpanned, still not getting it.

You also weren’t paying attention to where he was driving, but he finally pulled into a lot outside of what looked like another apartment building. He put the car in park and pulled out the key before he looked at you again. Again, he was unamused.

He eyed you up and down before noting, “You’ve gotten more sassy, huh?”

“I’m not trying to be, I just don’t understand!”

“Come on, babydoll,” he patted your thigh before he got out of the car. “I’ll show you.”

He took you into the building and into an elevator. You noted that he stuck a silver key from his keyring into a keyhole in the elevator, turned it, and pressed the button for the top floor. You and Hyunjin waited side-by-side at the back of the elevator. He was on his phone while you were watching the numbers on the LED screen above the doors.

“Have you talked to Kit or Changbin?” you asked him.

“They know everything,” he nodded, still not looking up from his phone. He assumed you were asking because you wanted to know if they were caught up. “I told them after you fell asleep last night.”

“After I was suffocated,” you corrected.

“Don’t be dramatic,” he scoffed, finally looking at you to smirk.

“Oh, says you of all people.”

“Touché.”

Finally, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. The top floor seemed to be a penthouse, but it was all open space with large windows all on the back wall. The rest of the walls were exposed brick and covered in half-finished and fully-finished paintings. Scattered around the space were easels that either held canvases, white stained drapes, or nothing at all. There were a handful of stools around the area, and lots of art supplies. There were two large desks on either side of the room, with more art supplies and sketchbooks and canvases.

“Since we’re being completely open and honest now,” Hyunjin smiled at you, gesturing with an arm to the space while he guided you in with the other around your waist, “welcome to my studio. This is how I’ve made so much money.”

You looked at him, eyes bugging out of your head, “What, you’re some huge artist?”

He pointed at a painting that seemed to be finished, leaning up against the wall as it stood on the floor.

“There’s the signature. On most of the ones at home.”

You walked over and bent down to get a closer look. It looked mostly like a bunch of scribbles, but you could make out a large S and a large H.

“No offense, but what does it say?” you ask. “There’s no S in your name.”

“Sam Hyun,” he replied. “When I lived in Vegas, I went by Sam Hwang, and my name is Hyunjin. I combined the two.”

You turned around to face him again, head tilting slightly to one side as you studied him, “You actually do look like a Sam…”

He shrugged, “Thanks, I think.”

“It’s a good thing. Sam’s not an ugly name, y’know? You could’ve been something ugly like…Frank. Or you could’ve been a Kyle.”

He gave you a strangle look as he chuckled, “What’s wrong with Kyle? It’s a common name, no?”

“Kyle itself is a red flag,” you stated knowingly.

“Would you still love me if my name was Bartholomew?” he asked suddenly with a giggle.

“Fuck no,” you replied immediately.

“Just take a fucking guess what Changbin almost made his stage name.”

You gasped, “You’re kidding.”

“He’s so fucking lucky we went back to Vegas for our first auditions because he met one of my old buddies names Xavior and thought his name sounded cool, so he used that as his stage name instead. But he was dead set on Batholomew.”

“Why?” you asked with a disgusted face.

“His mind works in mysterious ways,” he shrugged.

“So…Kat Valentyne and Xavior…something?” you asked.

“Xavior Chang,” he scoffed. “He couldn’t come up with a second name but he didn’t want to copy me and use just one – even though I told him I didn’t think he was copying me, but whatever. But honestly, after the movie with him and Kit, she kept slipping up and calling him Binnie so now that’s basically all he’s known as now.”

You nodded slowly as you started to look around the large space. Hyunjin just stood and watched you, hands in his pockets.

“So…how did you come up with Sam Hyun?” you wondered. “Why not just use your name?”

“Because I was in porn and I was afraid of ever being connected back to it,” he explained. “Anyone could google my stage name and find out my real one. With being an artist, I wanted absolutely everything to be separated from what I was doing during the day. Nobody had a face to the art, either. Sam Hyun is untraceable. As far as anyone knows, Sam Hyun is my real name. Separate from Hwang Hyunjin, and therefore, separate from Jin.”

“So…you’re like Banksy.”

“Yeah, like Banksy.”

“So how’d it happen, then? The switch between porn and art?”

“I was doing art at the same time, but more as a hobby. I kind of gave up when it never took off. But one day, out of nowhere, I got really lucky. Something I made got noticed at a show by some big name and they offered a lot more than it should’ve been worth, honestly,” he laughed like he still couldn’t believe it. “That just kinda…put my name on the map, I guess. And once I had that break, I left the industry and focused full-time on this.”

A small smile broke on your face as you looked at him, “That’s kinda sweet. You get to do the thing you actually love.”

He nodded, “I got very lucky. Still am very lucky.” he added the last part with a warm, happy half-smile at you, just looking at you with the most lovesick expression anyone had ever seen.

You started looking around again, wandering between easels and canvases, looking around at everything Hyunjin had made. You never knew he could draw, but fuck, was he talented. It was mostly people and a handful of scenery pieces thrown in there, but everything you saw was so insanely good. 

You hadn’t noticed Hyunjin had wandered over behind you as you studied a seemingly random couple he’d drawn, their bodies filled in with a watercolor sunset, until he softly asked, “Do you wanna see something?”

You looked at him to silently say you were paying attention to whatever he wanted to show you, and he guided you over to an easel that was covered by a white drape. It was obvious that there was a large canvas underneath, but you weren’t going to uncover anything that was covered. That would be rude.

Hyunjin reached up to gently pull the sheet off so as to not knock over the painting. Your mouth fell open as your eyes widened in awe, seeing the portrait of you and Hyunjin. It was done in the same exact style as the piece you were just looking at – just the messy-on-purpose black outline from the shoulders up, and being filled in with warm tones that blended together – but this was very clearly supposed to be you and Hyunjin staring deeply at each other. Your lips were only inches apart as one of his hands cupped your cheek, looking at you with his signature smirk, but even in a picture, he was able to capture the way he looked at you like you were the entire universe. And you looked back at him in a way that very much mimicked how you looked at the piece: in pure awe. Your eyes were wide and your lips were parted, your hand holding lightly onto his arm just a couple inches down from his wrist. The colors used to fill in your bodies were similar to the first painting but the reds, yellows, and oranges were put in different spots. It was somehow more pleasing, but maybe you were being biased.

“The one you were just looking at was based off of this,” Hyunjin explained to you softly. “I made this one a while ago, but when things got…really shitty between us, I tried to replicate it to sell it. As you could probably tell, I gave up. Wasn’t as good as the original.”

“Holy shit, Hyunjin,” you breathed, unable to take your eyes off of it.

“If you think this is insane, you should see my most recent sketchbook,” he chuckled. “You’d probably think I’m a psycho.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized what he’d said before, looking back at him, “Were you going to sell this?”

He scoffed, “Absolutely not. I was gonna keep it, but I like the style of it and thought it would sell well. But this is priceless – even if it’s half a self portrait.”

You frowned at him and lightly whacked him in the stomach, making him laugh, “You’re literally a God, you freak.”

“Yeah, well,” he sighed as he draped an arm casually around your shoulder, “you really are your own biggest critic. Drawing myself took the longest fucking time.”

“You definitely look at me like that,” you promised, pointing at him on the portrait. “And I definitely look lost all the time like that.”

“You’re not lost,” he scoffed again, rolling his eyes. “I’m literally right there.”

You started laughing, “That was stupid cheesy.”

“The cheese gets worse, don’t worry,” he promised with a smirk as he started to lead you over to one of the tables. He brought you to a closed sketchbook that looked much less beat-up than the other ones. “This is my newer sketchbook. I got it a little bit before I met you, actually.”

He gently pushed you forward to stand at the table and open it. You flipped it open and started going through it slowly, seeing him use different mediums to make different things. It was mostly people – people you’d never seen before, but a couple that you’d seen at The Brooke. But after about 5 pages, you flipped the next page to see you, holding a moving box. It was a charcoal sketch from your thighs up, and it was only somewhat shaded. But it was very clearly you, laughing as you carried the cardboard box.

The next page was you again, but from the side, and only from your shoulders up. Your expression was neutral and you seemed to be looking at something. The next page was, again, you, smiling with your eyes closed. The next page was you, and the next, and the next, and the next.

“I like to draw people that I see,” he explained. “Clearly, I saw you once and couldn’t get you out of my head. I’ve drawn you a lot since I’ve met you.”

You kept flipping, and every single page was you. But then you got to the last few sketches in the book, and you only looked sad. You looked disheveled or upset. There was even one of you with tears on your cheeks with your eyes casted down.

“I kinda never stopped drawing you,” he admitted quietly. “Even when I was mad at you, I still thought about you all the time.”

There were a couple drawings of you scattered in the sad ones where you looked happy again, and it tugged at your heart. Even when you were both upset, Hyunjin seemed to still think of you when you were happy, like he wanted to see it again.

The last 10 pages or so were still blank, so you closed the sketchbook again and turned to face Hyunjin, cheeks feeling hot from seeing how often he drew you. He could tell you were flustered and grinned widely at you.

“I’m pretty cute, huh?” he asked with a modest shrug.

“How come I never knew you could draw?” you asked him, poking his chest with your finger.

“Changbin and Kit have seen me doodle on stuff here and there, but they don’t know about all this,” he explained. “This is top secret. Nobody knows about it because I don’t want there being any possible ties between Sam Hyun and Jin, y’know? They’re both me, but nobody else knows they are. I want to make sure it stays that way. But since we’re working on honesty, I figured you’d be a good first person to tell.”

You nodded, “I won’t say a word.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t,” he promised with a mischievous grin before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

-

You’d never seen Hyunjin dress up before, but boy did he dress up. There was a lot of black, but a lot of chains and silver and mesh. Everything just looked expensive and extravagant, and despite having Hyunjin help you pick out what to wear earlier that day, you somehow felt severely underdressed beside him.

Despite that, the way Hyunjin looked at you made you feel like the best looking person at the restaurant. When you first got dressed and you were doing your makeup in his bathroom, he was sitting on the counter by where your makeup was spread out, going between looking at his phone and glancing up at you with a soft smile.

But when you put on the heels, he was gone. His eyes only left you so he could drive, but he kept stealing glances. He looked at you probably the way you looked at him. Like you were God and had descended down in front of him. You weren’t even sure if you’d make it to the restaurant because you were almost positive there were a couple times he almost passed out.

“You’re oddly quiet now,” Hyunjin mused as he looked over the menu with you – he had to help you with some things because you’d never had a lot of the food they offered. It was all fancy stuff with big words.

You glanced away from the words that didn’t even seem like real words to look at him, “What do you mean?”

“You’ve rambled off so many questions today and now you’re dead silent,” he chuckled. “Feeling okay?”

You felt your cheeks warm a bit as you mumbled, “I’m not gonna ask those questions out in public, Hyunjin.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes, “Oh, as if anyone is listening to us. They’re all talking about business and nannies and vacations and shit that’s important to rich people. Dates are meant for talking to get to know each other. You should feel comfortable asking me anything.”

You knew he was right about dates being made for getting to know each other, but you still felt nervous to ask questions about sex and porn where people might hear it. What if some rich person overheard and thought you were weird and got you kicked out?

It took a couple minutes of silent internal encouragement, but you finally asked in almost a whisper, “What…kind did you do…?”

His laugh was louder than your words but nobody seemed to notice, “Both. Gay and straight. Does that bother you?”

You shrugged like he told you it was a little cloudy outside, “Not really. I mean, unless you prefer guys, in which case, that would make me kinda insecure probably.”

“My preference is you, dummy,” he told you with a playful smile.

“I meant…sex-wise,” your voice got quieter on the last word, which made Hyunjin laugh again.

“No preference there.”

“Okay, maybe this is a dumb question–”

“No dumb questions.”

“Sure. How did you, like…not fall in love with every single person? I get it’s mostly acting and stuff but that’s some serious acting. I would be convinced everyone actually loved me and cared about me and would catch feelings everyday.”

“I learned how to separate my feelings from my work,” he explained. “To me, sex was just sex, and my feelings were basically shut off when I was doing it. But that was only when I was working. It’s different with you.”

“We’ve never…done that,” you reminded him.

“I mean with everything else. We’ve done other stuff. Unless you forgot about that when we were mad at each other,” he smirked.

“Trust me, Hyun, I remember,” you promised.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his smirk growing and making you feel things you did not want to feel in the middle of a restaurant full of a bunch of important and rich people. “Because I don’t mind jogging your memory.”

-

Despite the first conversation at the restaurant, the rest of the date was the most romantic experience you’d ever had. You were starting to learn that despite Hyunjin’s line of work and claiming he could turn off his feelings, he was a true hopeless romantic – not that you didn’t know before, but now it was painfully obvious. He ordered for you, held open doors for you, and asked a lot of questions about you. The two of you had already caught up on new happenings since you last spoke, but now Hyunjin was asking you questions about your future. What field were you going to look for a job in? Have you considered going to school for something? How did you get into nannying in the first place? Did that mean you wanted kids?

You learned more about him, other than just his previous job. You learned more about his friendship with Changbin, his life in Las Vegas, and everything outside and in between. How he got out of the industry and how he found himself living at The Brooke and befriending the two bellhops who worked the night shift. More about his early life pre-porn and even some stories from his life while he was in that industry, but about stuff that was separate from it.

You felt like the whole time, his eyes never left yours. You weren’t even sure if he ever looked down while eating his food to see what he was picking up with his utensils, but his plate was cleared by the end of the date. 

To be fair, you weren’t sure of many things because Hyunjin kept refilling your wine glass whenever it was empty. He got some fancy bottle brought to the table in an ice bucket and while it was meant to share, you weren’t sure if he had any of it or if you’d drank the whole thing. You saw him with a glass but then you were too lost in his eyes to notice much else. When his stare got too much and you felt nervous like you had to look away, you looked down at your own food instead of focusing on whatever he was doing.

Back in the car, Hyunjin drove with a hand on your thigh and the other on the wheel. Despite your tipsy state and him teasing you about forgetting the things you’d done together, he was being a complete gentleman. The most he’d done was just then as his warm palm rested on the exposed skin of your leg. 

“I have a follow-up question,” you announced suddenly between Hyunjin humming along with the music.

“Yes, angel?”

“Can you elaborate on the ‘sex without feelings’ thing?” you asked.

He chuckled and glanced at you, “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Just now. Just going over stuff in my head, y’know?”

“How much wine have you had, my love?” he continued to laugh.

“Whatever you didn’t drink, I did,” you stated surely.

After his laughter had died down, though, he replied, “The people I worked with, I never had romantic feelings for. When I was starting out, it happened a couple times until I learned. I had a couple…situationships, I suppose during my time in the industry, and I didn’t try to disassociate from my feelings because obviously they were supposed to be relationships. But with them, it always felt like they were trying so hard to make it like a scene that I just auto-blocked it all out anyway. It kinda sucked.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked over at Hyunjin, “That doesn’t happen now, right?”

“Absolutely not, angel,” he looked back at you with a soft smile before looking back at the road. “With you, everything is so much better than any sex I’ve ever had. Feelings really do make it. I actually get turned on and everything feels more intense. It just feels… I don’t know how to explain it other than everything is better because there’s feelings. I can’t not feel things for you, _____.”

“Awww,” you giggled as your cheeks began to warm. “Shut the fuck up, you’re too cute.”

“Not to say,” he quickly added, “if you did want to do anything a little…raunchier in the future, that I would hate it. I think in that case, it would be okay because the feelings are still there. It was just with those people, they made it seem like they only saw me as Jin and not Hyunjin, if that makes sense.”

You nodded, “No, I get that. That does make me feel better, though."

 The two of you fell into a comfortable silence for another moment until you thought of another question, shyly asking, "So, um…what’re you…into…?”

You could see the smirk growing on his face as the streetlamps flooded through the windshield as he drove, “I’ll do just about anything if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But what are you personally into?” you pressed curiously, though you were sure Hyunjin would be able to tell how flustered you were. “Like, if you didn’t have to worry about your partner.”

“Hair pulling,” was his immediate response. “I love having my hair pulled.”

You eyed his hair as it currently was. He kept it on the long-ish side and it was almost always half-up. Even in the one video of his you saw, his hair was at his shoulders.

“Yeah, that math adds up,” you nodded. “I think you like dirty talking, too.”

He let out a laugh as he glanced between you and the road, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You were smiling, too, because of his laugh as you replied, “You would always talk a lot to me. You’re just really vocal.”

“You react well when I do talk to you,” he pointed out before he leaned over toward you, his lips almost brushing your ear. “You like the dirty talk, _____.”

A shiver went down your spine as he pulled away, and you were pretty sure Hyunjin noticed from the way his smirk widened and his chest quickly rose and fell like he scoffed. But he didn’t say anything about it, and you were too shy to confirm or deny. So he went back to quietly humming along to his music.

-

Both Felix and Jeongin were behind the counter when you and Hyunjin returned back to The Brooke. When you left that evening, it was only Jeongin who was punching in for work and making a comment about how dolled up the two of you were. When you came strolling into the empty lobby with your hands intertwined, Felix’s jaw was just about on the floor as Jeongin started smirking.

“Nice to see the two of you still look presentable,” the younger boy noted. “I thought for sure Hyunjin was gonna pounce at some point.”

“I don’t blame him,” Felix choked out a laugh as he started to regain his composure. “Either of you. You both look incredible.”

Your face had already been warm from the wine and Hyunjin’s compliments, but Felix made it feel hotter, “Thanks.”

“What’s the occasion?” he wondered.

“Make up date,” Hyunjin stated, stopping at the front desk to chat with them. “We went somewhere nice for free, thanks to _____’s asshole ex-bosses.”

Jeongin nodded, “You love to see it.”

“Now,” Hyunjin released your hand to place his hands on your shoulders, “I need to get this one to bed since she drank almost an entire bottle of wine by herself.”

“You kept pouring!” you insisted.

“But you kept drinking,” he countered with a playful grin.

“You can’t start gaslighting her when you just got back together,” Jeongin told him with a sigh and a shake of his head.

“But it’s official now,” Hyunjin pointed out with a wide grin that made his eyes crinkle.

Felix nodded in understanding, “Oh, then it’s totally okay now.”

“See ya later, guys!” he chirped as he turned you and started leading you toward the elevators.

“Don’t be too loud, please!” Jeongin laughed after the two of you. “I don’t feel like getting a ton of noise complaints tonight!”

That’s where your mind was, actually. Hyunjin had done this big gesture for you. He made an entire day out of it, too. He brought you to his gallery and showed you all of the art he made, and half of it was of you. He brought you shopping and got you expensive clothes and accessories for the fancy date he brought you on. This all must’ve been leading up to him taking your virginity now, right? Hyunjin definitely seemed like the type of person who wanted to make that something big and romantic and special. You half expected to go into his apartment and see rose petals leading to his bed.

Even if it wasn’t that far, he’d probably want to do something, right?

But instead, he stopped with you outside your apartment. You looked up at him in confusion, “Are we staying at my place?”

“You are,” he chuckled.

“What?”

“_____, it’s our first date,” he explained, still laughing softly at your confusion. “I’m doing things traditionally. It seems right. So you sleep here, I sleep over there, and I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

You pouted but mumbled an, “Okay…”

Did you feel disappointed? Kind of. But did you also feel relieved? A little bit. You were pretty sure you were wearing some ugly cotton thong you’d gotten at the department store, anyway.

Hyunjin kissed your pouting lips, which brought a small smile to your face as he beamed back at you, “Goodnight, _____.”

“Goodnight, Hyunjin,” you replied before turning to unlock your door.

And once you were inside, you had to call your friends to tell them everything.

————✧♡✧————-

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