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restlessmaknae · 1 year ago

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sun, star, moon // sung hanbin

When you start university, everything is new and scary, until you find your safe haven in a cosy corner café and a cute barista working there.

➳ Characters: barista/uni student!Hanbin x uni student female!reader/you

➳ Genre: the fluffiest of fluff, uni au, barista au, slice of life

➳ Words: 2.9k

➳ Warning: mention of food, stress

➳ A/N: This story was very much inspired by Hanbin's tattoos (the title might have hinted at that...), and even though there's some info out there about what they mean to him, this story is purely fictional, so the explanation in the story is also just part of the storyline.

Also, thank you @dat-town for bearing with me while I was gradually falling for this boy 💕

➳ Taglist: @dat-town, @s00buwu

It was spring when you first met Hanbin.

You had your first semester at university, all nerves and excitement, looking around the unfamiliar city and being in awe at how different it was compared to your hometown. Apart from visiting your grandparents in different cities, you had never travelled much, let alone spent time away from your parents. It was exciting and terrifying all at the time, and you didn’t really know how to be an independent and responsible adult (the one that you should have been), but you tried your best to find your footing.

After orientation week, your very first class was at 8am which meant having to grab coffee to keep you awake after tossing and turning in bed for hours the previous night, not knowing what to expect on your very first day. You stayed at a student accommodation a bit further from the city centre, and there was a cosy little café on the corner, so you hopped in to get your daily dose of caffeine before getting on the bus.

As you stepped inside, the little bell above the door signalled your arrival cheerily, and the sweet fragrance of freshly baked goodies wafted through the café. You stepped up to the corner, and while the boy in front of you was making his order, you examined the hand-written menu on the chalkboard behind the counter, pondering over what to get.

You were next in line in no time, and as the boy stepped aside, you found yourself face-to-face with the barista who smiled at you gently. There were no dark circles around his eyes despite the early hour, and his cheeks lifted slightly when he was smiling. He ruffled his jet-black hair when a few stray locks fell into his eyes and blinked at you patiently.

“Good morning! What can I get for you?” He inquired politely as he stepped aside, so that you could see the chalkboard behind him better. You smiled at him, grateful, already making up your mind about your order.

“Good morning! I’d like a medium almond latte and a…” Your voice trailed off as you looked at the pastry display counter, wondering if you should get something to munch on between your morning classes. There were a few baked goods that you had never tried before and they looked heavenly, but you wanted to stick to something familiar for the sake of your stomach on the first day of the semester. “An almond croissant to go, please,” you added, and looked back up at him, only to find his smile widening upon your order.

“So a medium almond latte with an almond croissant,” he noted, but there was a playful edge to his words which made you realise that it must have sounded pretty funny. You weren’t crazy about almonds, but you liked almond latte the most, and that croissant seemed really good.

“Yeah, that’s it,” you bobbed your head, your heart warming at the sight of his smile, before telling him that you would pay by card. While he was preparing your order, you tried not to stare too much, but it was difficult when he had such kind and gentle features. Anyone who looked at him could tell that he was a good-willed person, plus, add his broad shoulders, toothy smile and delicate features to the mixture, and boom… it was impossible not to look at him while he was busy concentrating on doing your latte, his dedication written on his face.

When he caught your gaze, his lips curled upwards timidly, and you couldn’t tell whether he was more shy or you were. You were sure that your face flushed, but you hoped that he deemed that it was because of the slightly warmer temperature in the café, not because of him.

“Here you go,” he said as he put the cup of coffee and a paper bag with the croissant on the counter in front of you. “Have a lovely day!” He wished with a tender smile when you reached for the goodies, and you reciprocated it, wishing him the same.

Little did you know, that was just the first of your many morning encounters with him.

It was summer when you realised that you had fallen for Hanbin.

Throughout the semester, the little café had become your favourite spot around your student accommodation. It was where you got your morning latte, and it was where you worked on your assignments when you needed to get out of your small room to not get crazy there. Hanbin didn’t work every single time you were there, but the other baristas were just as kind and friendly. You also got to know that the woman who sometimes worked behind the counter was Hanbin’s mother, and she was also the one who owned the café. When you talked with her, you realised where the boy had gotten his kindness and consideration from.

On the other hand, when Hanbin was there, you always felt a bit more safe, a bit more comfortable. You couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him - maybe his gentle smile or the way he gently patted your back to wake you up when you fell asleep on your laptop or the way his voice was like a lullaby, something that could envelope you in its warmth -, but you couldn’t go against what you were feeling. You just didn’t know whether he felt the same way about you because he seemed to be equally kind to all the customers.

Hanbin was a university student too, yet he helped out at the café whenever his schedule allowed him to do so, so it wasn’t rare to see him going to class or to come from class when you were already there. Since you usually saw him in a neutral coloured shirt with an apron in front, you never really paid much attention to how he dressed, but when he was off-work, he wore cotton shirts, light cardigans, casual jeans and such. He looked good in everything though.

However, on the very last day before you would go home for the summer break, Hanbin offered to walk you back to your accommodation. You hadn’t planned on staying past opening hours, but you had managed to doze off while scrolling on your phone, and the boy had to wake you up, explaining that it was time to close the shop altogether. Since it was late, he suggested walking you back, and despite your initial protests (that it was a well-lit street, that it wasn’t that far…), you gave in.

As you walked side by side, you stole a few glances here and there, and that’s when you noticed it… he wore a V-neck shirt this time, something that exposed the front of his chest a bit, and you couldn’t help yourself from noticing the tattoos on his skin. When he caught you staring, he also looked down and let out an audible ‘oh’ sound.

You immediately jumped in to apologise.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I just thought you had something stuck on you, I have never noticed that you have a tattoo…” You justified hastily, your voice trailing off at the end when you saw the boy’s laid-back expression. He didn’t look frustrated or amused, he looked how he usually looked, and that put your mind at ease. His following words even more so.

“It’s okay. I had it made there on purpose, it doesn’t bother me.”

Truth to be told, you had never been curious about others’ tattoos, but the sun, star and moon symbols on him made you wonder why he got those specific symbols. You didn’t know whether you had the right to ask about them, but since Hanbin was still looking at you, as if he was expecting you to say something more, you decided to go for it.

“What do they represent to you? If you don’t mind me asking, of course,” you clarified immediately in case it was a personal topic to him, but he didn’t seem offended. If anything, he seemed glad, and as you were walking under the dim lights of the nearby street lamps, the silence occasionally overthrown by the noises of traffic around, he let you know about the answer. How he believed that there’s light, darkness and beauty in everything, and how the universe was always there, watching, and he believed in it, that certain things happened for a reason as part of the universe’s calling.

You were in awe, not knowing how to profoundly phrase what you wanted to say to him, and he must have misinterpreted your silence because he added a few seconds later:

“I know it may sound silly…”

“No, no, that’s like… so beautiful that you think that way,” you voiced out, and you weren’t sure that you got your message across, hence you continued. “I also believe that what’s meant to be will happen, and that the universe has its own ways to make things happen.”

Hanbin smiled gently, somewhat relieved, and you reciprocated it, thinking that maybe this too… maybe him too… they were all part of the universe’s plan.

It was autumn when you started getting closer with Hanbin.

The leaves might have turned, but your feelings for Hanbin had not changed, if only they had grown more. The truth is, the only thing you had forgotten about when you had bid your goodbye prior to summer break had been to exchange contacts. Since you had seen each other multiple times a week at the café, there had been no reason for you to stay in touch to keep the other updated about your days. On top of that, even though you had tried to look up his name on SNS, there had been quite a few Sung Hanbins, and some accounts were private while others didn’t have a profile photo.

So you had left it at that, clutching onto your memories with the boy, catching yourself daydreaming more and more often during the summer. Those months had never seemed so long before, and you had wondered whether you had crossed his mind as much as he had crossed yours. Your heart had fluttered whenever his wide smile, gentle voice or considerate actions had come to your mind, and it had been funny how he hadn’t even been there, yet, you had felt as shy as if he had been there in front of you.

With the autumn semester finally starting, your feelings came back in full force, heightening when you met at the café again. It was heartwarming how - despite the months without seeing each other - the place still felt like your little safe haven and how his smile still triggered the same reaction from you.

Afterwards, you cherished each and every meeting, each and every smile, each and every giggle and each and every slight touch. The boy also picked up the habit - or rather continued - of walking you back to your accommodation if he had the chance to do so, and you wished that walk could have been longer for it always felt like such a short span of time that you could spend together. Until he suggested going to a dance festival with him, and there was no turning back from there: you started hanging out outside of the café too, visiting the riverside on weekends, visiting exhibitions, attending concerts, going to the cinema and checking out other cafés and restaurants. Anything and everything that came to your mind, and that you thought the other would enjoy.

All because by that point, you knew each other well enough to suggest such things.

It was winter when you became official with Hanbin.

Even though the weather had become colder, your heart had never been warmer. Being with Hanbin was like constantly being bundled up in a warm blanket, being taken care of and feeling all fuzzy. He was the epitome of a comfort person: whenever you felt down, he was there to listen to your concerns, he was there to cheer you up when you were questioning your choice of major, he was there to wake you up when you fell asleep on your notes at the café, and he was there to keep you safe from careless cyclists passing by on the walk to your accommodation.

Since both of you were university students - albeit went to different universities -, you could bond over group project members that annoyingly slacked off, professors that seemed to get stuck in the past century with their presentation style, exam questions that seemed to ask the most unnecessary details from the hundredth slide and so on. It felt like sharing the same experience, and even if you studied different subjects and went to different institutions, that was just one more reason you enjoyed talking to him. He could talk so enthusiastically about topics that interested him (when it seemed like there were stars dancing in his big, bright eyes), and you loved his optimistic mind-set and hard-working personality.

However, both of you needed to let off some steam from time to time, so this particular week, you decided to walk to the top of the Namsan Tower, to take in the view of the vibrant city and its shining lights (including the Christmas decorations the city was dressed in since the beginning of December).

“Ah, I feel so out of shape,” you breathed out with a semi-nervous giggle as you were making your way up to the top. You did have weekly aerobics classes at uni, and you did walk a lot, but it seemed tiring to reach the top on foot, maybe because of your big coats and the slippery ground.

“We’re almost there. Hang in there!” Hanbin cheered you on with his hands balled into fists and a bright smile that reached his eyes. You smiled back at him, and maybe it was because of the dazzled state you were in or the uneven ground beneath you, but you felt your feet slip, and if it hadn’t been for Hanbin reaching for you, you might have fallen onto your back.

“Are you okay?” The boy asked, worry painting his features solemn, and you hated to see that tight line of his lips, so you bobbed your head right away and reassured him that you were fine. He seemed to believe you, but still didn’t let go of your arms. Instead, he slipped his fingers into yours, and pulled you with him as he took the next step towards the top.

You were thankful that you were dressed up warmly, your fluffy scarf covering half of your face, because you were sure that you were flushed like crazy. Even though you had been progressively more intimate with each other - you squeezing his hand when he was talking about something vulnerable because you noticed that it helped him to feel better, him wiping your tears when you broke down in front of him when you were questioning your choice of major, him placing his hand on your back to keep you from falling when a stranger pushed past beside you on the escalator, you helping him with his necklaces when they stuck on his shirt and slightly grazing his skin -, you had never hold hands like this before.

You made your way to the top while holding hands and staying close to each other, and it was definitely worth it. The view was stunning, and as you were taking photos of the scenery, tiny little white flakes fell from the sky.

“Hanbin, look! It’s snowing,” you shrieked excitedly like an overzealous kid, and grabbed one of the snowflakes that melted in your hand in no time. You really didn’t expect this, especially with such perfect timing.

“It’s the first snow,” he noted with a childlike smile that mirrored yours. For a few minutes, you just stood there, watching in awe how the objects and the scenery around you got a thin layer of white - like frosting on a cake.

Then, when your eyes met his, you couldn’t stop smiling. It was truly beautiful, and that warm, fuzzy feeling was there yet again, sending tiny little fireworks through your body. These feelings exploded even more when the boy stepped up to you, and helped to tuck your hair into your beanie and under your scarf, so that your locks wouldn’t get attacked by the sudden snow.

Your heart was hammering away rapidly, and you felt like you could burst any moment as he still just stood there, not stepping back. When he just kept looking at you like that, eyes warm, smile warm, hands warm, you didn’t have it in you to back away either. Instead, your lips pulled into a smile when his fingers slipped down to your hands, and he intertwined your fingers.

“I like you, y/n,” he confessed in that kind, caring voice of his, and there was no use doubting his words. His eyes spoke for themselves.

“I like you, too, Hanbin,” you answered within a heartbeat, and in that moment, you knew.

The universe was really watching.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for ZB1 or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

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catboymoments · 1 year ago

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(Can they cook? TOH nextgen + some ye OCs)

Azura: Yes, she's great at breakfasts and soups! Not the cleanest sometimes tho, she can be a little messy

Mittens: Only good really at baking, not the fondest of using stoves

Hyacinth: He makes a mean sandwich but cannot really cook due to mobility issues and his prosthetics can get in the way

Juno: Can follow a recipe somewhat but definitely would prefer if she was either helping someone else

Calcifer: Nope! But that doesn't stop them from trying their best! Makes good cookies though

Bronwyn: Yes, knows quite a lot from her parents, makes many demon realm specials and a few human dishes too

Bramble: YES!!! Due to working for Vee and Masha Bramble learned to cook on the side

Briar: Somewhat, as she learned some things from her brother and really enjoys it

Bella: Knows a lot of recipes but has a 50/50 shot of pulling it off

Alek: The kind to say they can then order takeout

Mitzi: Master of barbeque, grilling, and seafood

Isabelle: Yes they can but prefer to make pastries and cute desserts like ice cream or strudels

Anubis: Makes instant ramen then adds soy sauce to call it gourmet

Palatino: Knows how to cook but prefers to avoid it if he can, not the most confident in their skills

Jewelia: Another wiz in the kitchen and can cook very well

(Some other things I thought of)

Azura and Isabelle really like to cook for each other making pastries and sharing

Jewelia and Bramble became well acquainted after finding out they other could cook

When Briar and Bramble truly made up one of the first things Brirar did was make Bramble the first dish he taught her. He cried promptly after and they ate it together

Hyacinth and Alek are banned from the school kitchen after trying to merge abomination magic with cooking

(Welp this was kinda long but eh I was bored and had a google doc be safe fran!)

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC AND I LOVE IT although my oneeee correction is that briar loves baking and is good at it but doesn’t do it often because she thinks she has to perform in other aspects of her life more to impress her moms BUT OTHERWISE THIS IS PERFECT AND CANON NOW 💕💕💕

#toh nextgen

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xbellaxcarolinax · 2 years ago

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Hi bb are you requests open? If so can I creep in here…

Kindly asking for Steven + domesticity aka reader is his cute pretty housewife 🙈💕 only if you’re up to it !!

When I think of pretty housewife, I think of baking, idk why, but sorry this took long and I hope you enjoy <3

Word count: 853

Steven immediately knew what you were up to as soon as he entered his flat. A sweetness was trapped in the air, the familiar smell of homemade blueberry muffins greeting him at the door.

“Dove?” He called out, tossing his satchel aside and toeing off his shoes. He went straight toward the kitchen and was greeted by the sight of you clutching a mixing bowl to your waist as you furiously mixed away at the batter within. You had a pretty dress on, a blue, floral thing that swished around your knees with every movement. It was covered in flour despite the apron you wore—the one that said “What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

There were trays upon trays of already baked muffins scattered about, along with trays of cookies, and even a pan of sourdough bread. Steven didn’t even know how you’d both get through to eating all of it. He’d have to bring some to work the next day and share with some of his coworkers so that all your hard work wouldn’t go to waste.

Something must have happened—you only baked this much when your day was beyond stressful. The little crease between your brows was enough of an indicator that your work day may have had a toll on you.

“Dove?” He tried again over the blaring music, another indication of your displeasure of the day. Your eyes had been trained on folding the blueberries into the batter that you barely noticed him until he placed his hand on your elbow.

“Oh!” The rubber spatula you’d been using almost flew from your hand had Steven not gripped your wrist to hold it in place. Batter went flying everywhere from the erratic movement, some of it landing in Steven’s hair and face. “Steven! I didn’t hear you come in!” You dropped the bowl on the counter, “I’m sorry, I’ve made a mess of you.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled, letting you fall in his arms as soon as he invited you in, “what’s wrong, love?”

“What makes you think somethings wrong?” You muttered, wiping some batter from his cheek only to pop your finger into your mouth to wipe it clean. Steven did his best to ignore that.

“You only bake like this when something’s wrong. What is it? You know you can tell me, right?” He urged, gently swaying you along to whatever indie track you had playing in the background. You smiled, giving him a quick peck on the lips before sighing.

“My parents.” You muttered.

“What about them?”

“They’re coming to visit in a few weeks.”

“Well, that’s fantastic news, innit?” Steven pulled away to hold you at arm's length, “I finally get to meet them, yeah?” he noted your hesitation, the uncertain look in your eyes, “what’s wrong?” You bit your lip, red and plump from your worrying it so much.

“I’m nervous.” You finally said, turning from him to tend to whatever it was you had baking in the oven.

“Well, that’s normal, it’s been a few years since you’ve visited them,” Steven strode over to hook his chin over your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist as you tested the muffins you pulled out with a toothpick. His hands worked to smooth down the silky fabric of your dress, placing a kiss on the nape of your neck.

“Yeah,” you said, eyes fluttering, “but…they’re complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“Like, judgy complicated.”

“Oh.” You rarely spoke about your parents. All that he knew was that they did not agree with your decision to go to baking school, nor did they agree with your move to London. But you’ve been successful since then, working as a second in command in one of the top pastry restaurants in the city. How could they judge you when you’ve accomplished so much? “I’m sure they’ll be proud to know how successful you’ve been, love. You know how proud of you I am.”

You hummed, leaning back against him. “Yes, I know.” Steven breathed in the scent of your hair, and you felt his smile through the strands.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he said, his hold on you tightening, “and if I have to, I’ll remind them of how amazing you are. They’ll be so happy, you’ll see.” You giggled when he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. You delicately plucked a warm muffin from the tray, breaking a piece off and shifting in his arms to face him.

“Thank you, I love you,” you said with a tiny smile, “here, try this batch, I added Greek yogurt to this recipe.” You pressed the piece past his lips and Steven immediately moans at the sweetness.

“God, your hands are magic.” In more ways than one, he would’ve said, but he left that part out. He really did enjoy your baking skills.

You beamed, taking a piece for yourself and humming in approval.

“Come on,” Steven suddenly said, grabbing your hand.

“Wait,” you giggled as you followed along, “I have more muffins to bake! Where are we going?”

“Bedroom. Gonna make a mess of you.”

#ask response #mona 👑#moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant fanfiction

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e-dubbc11 · 1 year ago

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A Taste of Fall

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: None. Pure fluff

Word Count: 1.7K-ish

Summary: You bring Billy to a place that holds a lot of special childhood memories for you. It’s one of your favorite places and just want to create some nice memories for him.

A/N: My dear Lily @munsonownsmyass and I had a lovely day at B.F Clyde’s cider mill in my hometown during her visit and I thought Billy would just love how peaceful it is there. Sometimes he just wants to get away from the busy city and escape to someplace quiet…with you ❤️ I made this as a side story to the Take a Lap series because some of that series takes place in my hometown also. I’ll leave that series linked HERE

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Are there always so many bees here, baby?” Billy asked, swatting the ones that were buzzing around his face.

It was your first time taking Billy to the cider mill in your hometown.

The crisp autumn air brushed past your faces. The scent of ripe apples and kettle corn hung in the air as you watched your boyfriend take in all the sites around him, the converted barn that sold mementos like glassware, clothing, and post cards to the little cottage where you can purchase apple cider and anything cider related, like donuts, pies, other pastries, and wine.

“There are ripe apples everywhere, Billy. And it’s not really cold yet so they’re still out.” You said with a warm smile and helping him to shoo the bees away.

It really was a beautiful day, the sun touched the high points of your faces and the air was cool and dry. It was difficult to pry your eyes away from him, Billy was just so handsome. When he stepped into the sunlight, his hair didn’t look as dark, the light brown strands of hair were more prominent than you thought, but his perfect smile was still just as bright as when you first met him, brighter than that early afternoon sun and that smile was all for you.

He pointed to a spot on the deck where they were doing wine tasting, he looked at you with raised eyebrows and biting down on his lower lip as if to silently ask you if you wanted to taste some wine.

“You wanna taste some wine, handsome?” You asked rhetorically. Of course you knew the answer to that question.

Billy was always holding your hand, everywhere you went and today was no exception. Lightly pulling you toward the wine stand, he had the look of an excited child in his eyes which you loved to see, it made your heart happy to give him the cider mill experience you had growing up.

The lovely little town where you grew up was picture perfect and he had experienced it during the summer months when you were helping him train for his first triathlon but this was his first time being there during the autumn months.

He was so used to being in the city, you thought it might be boring for him. There wasn’t a lot of night life or fancy restaurants like New York City but he loved it, he really loved it.

It was where he fell in love with you.

You had invited him into your family home, introduced him to your parents and your brothers and a few towns over was where the triathlon was where he told you he loved you for the first time. You really loved sharing this part of your life with him.

“Which one do you like the best, sweet girl?” He asked, taking another sip.

“I’ve always been partial to the spiced apple wine, especially when you warm it up.” You replied.

He drew your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“I like this Blackout one too, it’s really good.” He said.

You chuckled a little.

“Why is that funny, baby?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

Resting your hand against his chest, you proceeded to tell him the story about how your brother got really drunk off of that particular one while tailgating at a football stadium, got sick and eventually got kicked out of the stadium and wasn’t allowed back.

“He had to complete a course before they’d let him back in the stadium!” You said with a wide smile.

Billy laughed with you. It was always so nice to see and hear him laugh.

“You wanna go watch them press the cider? It’s the only working steam powered cider press in the country, ya know.” You stated.

“Really?” He asked.

You nodded.

“I’d love to.” Said Billy.

This time you pulled him by the hand into where they press the apples for the cider. He listened as you told stories about going there when you were young and how back then where they pressed the cider was the same place you would buy it. They didn’t have the little general store like they did now. There was so much more to see and buy now.

As you sat on the porch in the Adirondack chairs, you reminisced about the little basset hound that used to run around and play with you while you were there.

“He was so cute, tripping over his long ears. His name was Rags.” You said.

Billy took a sip of his cider slush and a bite of his donut. His sweet tooth was more than satisfied with all the goodies they had inside and he loved listening to you tell stories of your childhood but it made you feel sad that he didn’t get experience anything like this when he was young.

You brushed the back of his hand with your finger, a small gesture but he loved when you reached for him, touched him, and it showed him how much you loved him.

“I’m sorry, Billy.” You said softly, the smile slowly disappeared from your face.

Confused, he brought his gaze up to meet yours. “Sorry? For what, my love?” He asked.

“That you didn’t get to do anything like this when you were young, that you don’t have any stories about playing in piles of leaves, carving pumpkins into Jack o’ lanterns, or dressing up for Halloween. I’m—I’m just so sorry, baby.”

You moved out of your chair and went to sit on Billy’s lap, brushed his beard with your thumbs and slowly inched closer to his face until you were sharing the same air.

You could still faintly smell his cologne as you leaned in to kiss him, a couple of granules of sugar were still stuck to the corner of his mouth and you could still taste the sweet cider on his lips.

Billy welcomed your kiss, you could feel his long slender fingers on the back of your neck holding you firmly in place, not wanting to let you go, and he let out a long exhale along the side of your neck that sent delightful sparks down your spine.

“You don’t have to be sorry, sweet girl.” He purred in your ear. “I get to do all of those things now…with you. I actually feel part of a family…your family. So it’s ok. I’m still learning to let things go but these good memories are replacing the bad ones.”

Your pulse started to quicken and warmth spread across your cheeks as tears welled up in your eyes. Billy never getting to be part of a family broke your heart and you never wanted anything more than for him to know he was loved and wanted.

You’ve had a few hiccups in your relationship so far like when he disappeared before the triathlon because he was scared of his feelings and a few other situations up to this point but he thanked you for being patient with him. It was all still so new to him.

“Oh Billy…” You said tearfully, nervously playing with the buttons on his green flannel shirt.

He tilted your chin up so you were looking into his eyes and brushed the tear away from your cheek with his thumb. He flashed that million dollar smile at you…they always just melted your insides. Billy planted a soft kiss on your lips, he tasted the salt from your tears and the sugar from the donut.

“You have any idea how much I love you, sweet girl?” He asked.

Still staring into his endless brown eyes, Billy’s fingers suddenly became warm against your face and you could feel the heat radiating from his shirt.

You just wanted to curl up in his lap and stay there for as long as he would let you. Your smiles were chasing each other over his lips, one right after another, he made you so happy.

“I think I might have a little bit of an idea.” You said with a warm smile. “I love you too, handsome.”

Curled up and resting your head on his shoulder, you had an idea.

“Hey! You wanna go for a swim? The water at the beach is still warm, you can start practicing for your next triathlon.” You said with raised eyebrows and a wide smile.

“I should get a jump on next year, huh.” He said.

You heard your phone buzzing in your purse. Looking at the screen, you saw your youngest brother’s name and his goofy picture.

“Oh, it’s my brother…hello? We’re at the cider mill…and we’re gonna go for a swim after we leave here…yes, I told you we would carve pumpkins with you later. We’ll be over in a little while…I’m sure Billy would love to see the pictures you took with the drone he gave you…yeah, we’ll see you in a little while…I love you too, byeeeee!”

A little laugh escaped Billy’s mouth when you hung up which made you chuckle too.

“He’s in his 20’s but I swear that kid is gonna be 10 years old in his mind forever but I do love that about him. So strap in baby, he has some pictures to show you.” You said and gave him a kiss on the cheek, the bristles of his beard tickled your lips.

“Oh I’m ready, my love.” He said with a warm smile.

Billy didn’t tell you that day and he never really thought about it until now but he thought about what it would be like doing all of those autumn activities with his own kids, the kids he wanted to have with you.

He wondered who they would look like…you or him. Or would they be a combination of the two of you? He knew he loved you that much already that he, Billy Russo, had given some serious thought to settling down and making you his wife.

Every minute Billy spent with you and your family, he couldn’t wait to do it again because it would be a day where he wouldn’t have to be alone. He could be part of something he had so desperately wanted since he was a small child, and he had finally found the person that was willing to bring him in, to show him kindness and patience, and love him for exactly who he is because that’s what family is supposed to do.

And he never wanted to let that go…ever.

P.S. the story of her brother getting kicked out of a football stadium because he was too drunk? Yep, happened to my brother! And he did have to take a class before they’d let him back in again 🤣🤣🤣

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @mrsbillyrusso @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you #billy russo x y/n #billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine

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twstbookclub · 2 years ago

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Until I Met You

Summary: Trey didn’t think about White Day much. It was the day where he could give back to everyone who gave him something for Valentine’s Day. Well, that was until you came into the picture. POV: 2nd person Admin/Writer: Cressa 🦋 Pronouns: Gender Neutral Tags: Fluff, Romance, Slight Angst, Trey Clover my beloved, Holiday Romance (but how did it come to this), Mentions of Food (i.e. chocolate and pastries)

Word count: 1,782

Thank you for all of your love and support for the Idia fic I wrote 💕

Trey could smell the heavenly fragrance of chocolates and sweets in his family bakery when March rolled around.

His five-year-old self peered through the glass display case and looked at the couples and singles crowding the pâtisserie. One pair enjoyed a plate of strawberry shortcake together while a single person looked through all of the pastries before deciding on buying chocolate cupcakes. The rest milled about the area as they scrutinized the baked goods and savored the tart sweetness that came with them. His golden gaze drifted to his parents, who passed each other candied rose petals and a brief kiss before continuing with work.

He always wondered what was so special about March when February had Valentine’s Day.

Ten-year-old Trey watched one of the popular boys in his school give chocolates and gifts to anyone who gave him presents during Valentine’s Day. March has come again, and Trey has a small bag of goodies from the bakery himself. It took five years for Trey to understand why the pâtisserie was always crowded during the third month of the year: White Day. A day dedicated to giving back gifts, whether with romantic or platonic intention.

Surprisingly (to him at least), he received some chocolates from his class. Growing up as the oldest brother in the family, Trey felt it would be irresponsible to ignore White Day and return their kindness with nothing. So, the green-haired child went on his way to celebrate White Day only a child like him would know how.

Eighteen-year-old Trey Clover stared at the handcrafted chocolates in the mold. The smell of freshly made chocolate permeated the air of the Heartslabyul kitchen that no one could mistake it for anything else. All he could see and smell were the chocolates he baked for the Ramshackle Prefect.

Trey’s eyes darted towards the chilled, gift-wrapped chocolates he made for his friends yesterday. He made sure to make dark chocolate for Cater since he disliked sweets. Riddle’s strawberry tarts were stashed away in Trey’s room, just in case another incident of tart thievery would happen. Now that would ruin White Day for everyone.

Trey didn’t know when his crush for the magicless prefect began and where it ended. Would he take the plunge of asking you on a date? Would he take a step back and continue admiring you from afar? Considering how you were surrounded by other people who Trey was certain held affection for you, he felt like it would be a one-in-a-million chance that you would say yes to him. Much less return his feelings.

There’s also the fact that you’re from a world entirely different from his reality. The moment Crowley finds a way home for you, Trey knew you’d take the chance in a heartbeat. With how much you talked about your friends and family from where you came, the same way he told stories about his own family, Trey would have no choice but to say goodbye to you.

“Easy there, tiger,” Trey sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Give the chocolates, then think about asking them out before you have a midlife crisis.”

“Huh? That’s what you’re going for?” Ace’s voice echoed in Trey’s mind as he put the finishing touches and arranged the chocolates in a white box wrapped with a ribbon in your favorite color.

He could imagine Ace sneering at the cheesy gesture, Deuce asking him who the chocolates are for, and Cater wanting to know about the juicy details of the lucky individual who caught Trey’s attention. Knowing Riddle, he wouldn’t pry, but he would offer some advice if Trey wanted it. The Heartslabyul vice housewarden doubts that Riddle knew anything about romance, even if the latter read all of the books in the world.

Tucking away the chocolates in the fridge, Trey hoped that he could give you his gift without a problem. White Day had always been uneventful for him. If things went well tomorrow, then Trey could ask you out on a date without any worries. The thought gave him some confidence before he called it a night.

Come White Day, and Trey Clover—Riddle's reliable and responsible right-hand man, big brother to all Heartslabyul students, who’s composed under any circumstance—willed himself not to run around like a headless chicken in search of you.

It’s as if some higher power prevented him from running into you and vice versa. The Heartslabyul third year hasn’t seen you all day, and his courage began to fade bit by bit. He fidgeted with his glasses in the guise of fixing them. His palms are sweaty. His eyes scanned the courtyard as if you’d pop up at random. He struggled to breathe due to the lump in his throat.

Trey couldn’t remember a time he had been this nervous before. Maybe because Trey couldn’t stop thinking about you whose smile could rival the intensity and beauty of the sun, whose determination in helping anyone captivated him, whose kindness could be seen in the gentle way you pet one of the hedgehogs in the rose garden before an Unbirthday party. Maybe because this is the first time he wanted to be by someone’s side—yours—every single day.

Even if it meant that same person would leave him to return home one day.

“Where are you…?” Trey sighed, sitting down on one of the stone benches with a groan. “Classes are done, so they might be studying in the library or they went back to Ramshackle Dorm.”

An image of Grim, Ace, and Deuce flashed in his mind which made Trey chuckle. “On second thought, those three would drag them around anywhere. It’s not easy looking after those troublemakers.”

“I came by to say hi, but now I’m afraid to ask what you’re talking about, Trey.”

If Trey had been any other man, he’d have been a flustered mess and doubled over at the coincidence. You stood in front of him with a nervous smile and a hand half-heartedly raised in a wave. Your hair stuck out every which way. Your tie was loose, fighting for its life to stay on your collar. Creases littered your uniform coat as if you had worn it in a rush. In short, you looked like you've been struck by a tornado and barely made it out alive.

Trey couldn't help but think you were still gorgeous like this.

He felt his lips curve into a smile. He called your name in a soft and gentle tone, with an underlying passion even Trey didn't know he was capable of.

"Hey there. Why don't you take a seat? You could use the rest from whatever you're up to."

"You have no idea," you grinned, plopping yourself next to him. You're so close that Trey could feel your warmth radiate through his own coat. Your knee brushed with his, and you still faintly smelled like roses despite looking dead on your feet. Trey recognized that it was the expensive perfume Riddle and the others bought for you in the last Unbirthday party.

"Sam had a special White Day sale, and it got really crowded around the shop. I lost Ace and Deuce and Grim, so… here I am."

Trey took back whatever he said about the higher power. They literally gave him a chance to confess without anyone ruining it right now.

"Then I'm lucky I was around the area," Trey hummed. The smile you shot him afterwards said more than any words could. Without even thinking, he took out your chocolates from his book bag and handed it over to you.

If the situation wasn't so serious, Trey would've laughed at how cute you looked. Your eyes grew wide and your lips slightly parted. He swore there was a hint of a blush on your cheeks, but with the setting sun casting an ethereal light on you, Trey couldn't tell. All he could focus on was how adorable you are.

"It's for White Day. As thanks for the chocolate you gave me on Valentine's."

"Oh w-wow, um, I—" Oh Seven, you're so cute. "—I didn't think you'd remember that after a month, Trey."

How could I? I've been waiting for yours since the sun was up and I couldn't sleep after, Trey thought. Although, he'll bring this secret to the grave.

You cleared your throat and gingerly took the box from Trey after a bit of nudging from him. He watched you hold the box as if it was a diamond. Your fingers ghosted the fabric of the ribbon before untying it to unveil the chocolate within.

"... You remembered."

"You said you missed having them from your home before," Trey fiddled with his glasses again. "So I tried to recreate them based on your description."

Anyone who'd look at your favorite chocolates in your hands would just see the chocolate. For you, though? You see your family and friends in them. Back home, you'd buy this type of chocolate whenever you had the chance and share them with loved ones on occasion. He heard you sniffle, but kept quiet when you faked a cough.

"This means a lot to me. I…" Your lips quivered a little as you tied the ribbon around the box again. "I love them. Thanks, Trey."

The third year student couldn't help himself. Everything just felt right.

"I like you," Trey blurted out. He didn't give you—stunned and speechless—a chance to reply as he continued, "I don't know when and how. I don't think I ever gave it much thought. I just know I've never felt like this for anyone else."

The sun has long since kissed the earth. Twilight dawned on the pair underneath a tree, hiding the intimate moment from any onlookers and passersby. Stray leaves danced in the air as a spring breeze rustled your hair, making it more of a mess than earlier. You kept looking at him with wide eyes and your hands clutching the box.

At this point, Trey could care less if anyone else passed by. All he cared about was you.

"I could be with you for just one day, and I won't regret it."

You didn't say anything, but the moment he caught you in his arms when you hugged him, Trey knew he'd cherish every day with you. He wrapped his arms around you tighter. He tucked your head in the crook of his neck as he buried a hand in your hair. Stray strands tickled his cheek when he leaned on your head. Trey felt your smile the more you snuggled into his shoulder.

The uncertainty of the future be damned. He just wanted to be with you.

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lorcaswhisky · 3 months ago

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yoo for that latest ask game thingy, digging out the hearts: ❤️💕💘

All the hearts back atcha!

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

I had to go back and reread a few things, because often my favourite line tends to be from whatever I wrote last. And now I have a few ... maybe unexpected answers?

Amanda keeps her hands gloved.

This one is from and sings the tune without the words. I think in the context of the fic it's devastating in its simplicity- that the pain of these two grieving parents is so intense that they can't even touch each other for fear if hurting each other all over again. (I have simplicity on my mind today, can you tell?)

Starfleet’s Most Wanted Criminal (2256-69) emerged from a tunnel one level above them, in an EVA suit that somehow conspired to be even more spangly and less practical than Gabriel’s.

From Long Shot. There are many, many lines in that fic that I really enjoyed writing - "oh look, bulkheads", "more of an ass man", Spock and Gabriel's instant dislike of each other, “are you trying to distract me with scientifically interesting geological formations?”, giant telepathic gastropods, Gabriel flailing when he sees Una in That Dress... but something about that line makes me laugh every single time.

And for a few moments more, under Gabriel's mouth, with his face between her thighs, her hands tangled in his hair, Una forgot.

Now for a spicier one from Long Shot. I just ... the significance of memory and forgetting in this fic - the legacy of Discovery, characters who have their memories stolen, Gabriel's struggle to move on and heal from things he remembers and the things that were kept from him, Una's struggles to move on and heal as a person who physically cannot forget - and I managed to tie it all into the Best Orgasm Ever? Yeah, I was pretty smug about that one.

💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Nyaaaaaaaaahhhh. Evil question. I love it. I'm gonna cop out and pick two.

Of my long fics, it's Lost Cause. I was so pleased with the plotting and the tension in that one. 'Local sad man goes on Worst Roadtrip Ever, learns the plot of Discovery seasons 1-2' shouldn't work! And yet!

Short fics - Settle. It's melancholic and funny and full of hiraeth and it has pastries and a bit with a dog. All my favourite things in one small package.

💘 Is it easier to write angst or fluff?

My instinctive answer is 'angst', but my wanky, navel gazy answer is that most writing needs a little of both, and that's what I usually aim for. Angst and fluff, hard and soft, sad and funny. Light and shade, innit?

(That being said, the thing I'm working on is a solid 95% angst, with very little hope of fluff for anyone, so I'll have to see what else I find to offer that counterbalance.)

#thank you!#writing meme

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jade24632 · 18 days ago

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Sodapop x chubby fem y/n: 💕sweetness💕

Sodapop p.o.v

After a long day at workin at the gas station I decided to head home early, tbh I didn't feel like dealin with people rn.. I just wanna go home. As I walked down the street n the direction of home, my nose caught a delicious smell. Lookin up, from my feet my eyes caught on to a lil bakery that just opened; huh.. probably some new n town.

The delicious smell of fresh baked pastries fill my nostrils, n before my brain could register what was going on- my feet lead me inside. Walkin n the sweet smells of pastries, n fresh baked bread fill the atmosphere. Like it was callin me n. Walkin n the small bakery, my shoes clicked against the wooden floor.

Lil pastries wrapped n well sealed n lil bags on the shelfs; with fresh bread filling the air. Not payin attention I accidentally bumped into some on.

"Oh, I'm sorry"

My eyes caught hold of the most short, precious lil lady I ever seen her chubby cheeks n figuer was too cute; like she came straight out a fairytale. Her big round innocent eyes, looked into mine mine her cheeks started flushin pink.

"I'm sorry, I was n ur way" (y/n)

"No, it's my fault I should've been payin attention"

Not gonna lie her outfit match her personality- she wore a white & pink blouse with cherry blossom flower; with a hot pink skirt. And her tiny lil feet n her sandals. I didn't want to be a creep n just stare so I turned away for a moment, before lookin down at her again. Dammit she's too cute.

"I hope u don't mind me askin, but whats up name lil lady?"

"I'm, y/n" (y/n)

Hearin her name was like a tone of a spring river, and the song of birds n the summertime.

"Y/n, a beautiful name for a lovely lady"

Her cheeks turned a dark shade of pink almost turnin red. But when she asked me her name, I felt embarrassed. My name of all things was Sodapop.. really? My parents couldn't give me a better name? Well it's better then ponyboy.. my brother name after a horse, but anyway; rubbin the bk of my neck I finally gave her my name.

"I'm Sodapop, but u can call me soda"

It was a moment of silence before I heard y/n let out a small chuckle. Apparently she liked it, she said it was unique n different- now my face was hot. Oh no. I didn't know her for so long n I want to know more about her.

"So, soda what brings u n my bakery?" (Y/n)

N she's got her own business? Okay, I respect that.

"Well lookin n ur shop window, I saw somethin sweet I want n it turned out to be u"

Her eyes widened for a minute, before lettin out a giggle. My heart can't take it. I wanna marry her now.

"I was talking about the pastries silly" (y/n)

She playfully hit me, n we both chuckled..

"Well that too."

Y/n p.o.v

After meetin soda, I showed him around my bakery n help him pick some desserts. Like cherry filled muffins, n macaroons. A dessert he never tired before. He also grabbed a couple of cinnamon rolls, n strawberry filled donuts. I guess he had a sweet tooth, wrong. I didn't sell my pastries at a expensive price so, it wasn't much.

But anyway- when I charged him his total cost $15, he gave me $50. For a minute I was confused but he told me to keep a $20 for myself, a $10 for as a tip n the last $20 for his pay.

"A $10 tip?"

"Yea it's not much, but all small businesses need to grow too" (soda)

I blushed a lil, then proceeded to wrap his pastries n a bag. Nowadays if a Soc found out a greaser had this much money, they be jumped. I should know I was a greaser myself; but anyway- I gave him bag n when he reached for it, my fingers brushed against his n I felt a shiver run down my spine. Y/n no- u just met him.. but I wanna know more about him

Soda let out a chuckle before grabbin my hand n placing a kiss on the bl of it, his lips was soft n gently. For a first time I know wha a princess feels like. When he turn to leave I felt a peace of my heart break, did he have to go?

"Thx u y/n for the desserts n lettin me meet u" (soda)

"Thx u, n same to u"

With that he blew a kiss at me with a wink, n left. I aint know him that long- but I felt like I was floatin on air n my heart flutter.

"Please come bk soon"

Soda p.o.v

Holdin the bag n my hand n my shoes clicked against the pavement, I smiled at myself. Not for me but for meetin her.

"Trust me lil lady, I'll be bk soon"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yo,

Hi my babies 💋💋💋!!

I hope yall enjoy this story, don't forget to follow, leave a comment and like for more craziness. Yall come bk now. 🤪

N if u yall want my wattpad for more outsiders, go ahead.. u can find me under tiffanyOsborne8 on wattpad, or under the hastag grumpylady.

N if u got any requests go ahead and drop them in the comments

I love each n everyone of yall: ✌🏾💕

All yall my babies 💋.

#cookie🍪🍪#theoutsiders

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inspiredwriter · 6 months ago

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*Un rato en el Centro comercial*

Mayhem Leo :*se acerca a Stefany con los batidos* mira gatita te traje tu batido favorito 😊😉🧋🍫💕❣️💘

Mayhem Stefany :*mueve sus orejas*Miau, te lo agradezco mucho tortuguita 🥰😻💞💖💗💝*resive el batido y lo bebe* Mmm, sabe delicioso siempre me gustó Starbucks 😋😄🧋💓💘❣️

Mayhem Leo : jajaja, si Starbucks siempre es la mejores malteadas de del mundo 😏😊💕💓💝💗*bebe el batido*Mmm~😋😄🧋💘💞❣️¿qué haces mañana nena?😕😄💖💗💕

Mayhem Stefany : bueno mañana iré al parque hará una fiesta de parrillada familiar 😃😁👨‍👩‍👧🥩🌳🍃*toma la mano de Leo*y te gustaría ir mañana para que conozcas a toda mi familia 😊😄💝💗💕❣️

Mayhem Leo : bueno Me encantaría mucho Stefany 😀☺️💓💞💖*se rasca la cabeza* bueno quiero hablarte algo contigo 😙😅💓💕💗

Mayhem Stefany :*se agacha la oreja *está bien Lee, Qué quieres decirme 😟🥺💖💞❣️💝

Mayhem Leo :*se sonroja* bueno Stefany tu sabes que a veces siempre visito tu casa y tú a la mía Cuándo estamos juntos y dormimos juntos 😳🙁🏬💗💘💓

Mayhem Stefany : Pues sí claro porque me preguntas te molesta tortuguita 😟🤨💖💗❣️💕

Mayhem Leo : Qué No, no me molesta no quise decir eso 😖😅💦*juega con sus dedos* Es que quiero decirte si te mudarias conmigo en las alcantarillas para que podamos estar juntos 🥹😣💼🎒❣️💘💓💞💖

@inspiredwriter

Mayhem Stefany: *Stops drinking cocktail and her ears stand on end* Oh, my God, Leo!😲😳🧋💘💗🩷💕 Huh, can you imagine that a few days ago I also had the idea of inviting you to live with me and my parents🤭🥰🏬💼🎒👨‍👩‍👧💓💗💞 *Kisses Leo on the cheek* Mmua~😚💋💖🩷💞 Haha, that means you and I have the same thoughts😃😍💓💝💖💕

Mayhem Leo: Well, not really, Stefany, I wanted you to live with me and my family🥺💓❤💕 Don't worry, we always clean our den thoroughly and that's why there's almost no bad smell in there😅🤗🧹🧽🧺💖💘💞

Mayhem Stefany: Oh, that's not the problem at all, sweetie, just I heard that many different mutants live in your lair, besides you and your brothers🥺😥🦇🐸🐊🦎🦏🐗 *Whispers in Leo's ear* I feel a little awkward making love in places where many mutants or humans live🤫😳👥💓💞💝

Mayhem Leo: Yeah, you're right, my flower, those mutants that live in our lair are terribly curious🤔😓 One day Mondo Geko found our album with photographs, took out photos from there and stuck them on his face😬🦎 And also Wingnut...😧🫢🦇 Eeeh, simply put, these guys have not yet fully adapted to the human world the way my brothers and dad have😅💦 But we diligently teach them this and they are making progress in this😅😁

Mayhem Stefany: But my Dad is almost always at work, and my mom is at the pastry shop, where I sometimes help her🤔👮🚔👩‍💼🍰�� I think in my apartment it will be much more peaceful for us to spend time alone🤗🥰💗💖❣️💞 Don’t worry, my daddy doesn’t bring weapons into the apartment anymore...😅💦🚫🔫👮 *Takes Leo’s hand* But your opinion is no less important to me, Lee🥺💓💘💕 Do you think it’s better for you to live with me, or for me to live with you?🤨😟💝💗❤💕

@swagreecrow

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kylejsugarman · 2 years ago

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room tour!! here’s my bed with my heart shaped pillows and plushies (and my weighted blanket ruining the “aesthetic” by being flopped to the side). next to it is my nightstand with a lamp shaped like a sitting girl, this vintage angel clock, and this vintage angel statuette. then we have my desk with all my books and DVDs between my heart bookends, vintage strawberry girl candle holder, my vintage pink girl planter holding a fan my parents got from spain, this vintage duke university mug i use as a pen holder, and these vintage tulip candleholders. next is my dresser, with this beautiful 80s mirror above it, then a vintage duke cheerleader barbie and a baby doctor barbie, a heart shaped tiered pastry display that i use to hold my jewelry, two heart holders, my lip shaped planter, two kate spade dishes, a vintage angel dish a friend gave me, and my barbie history book with a heart shaped mirror. finally, we have the bathroom!! vintage toothbrush holder, soap dispenser, and shell shaped holder, along with my vintage girl shaped lipstick holder!! ive been collecting this stuff for years and finally getting to display it all makes me so happy, i love my little aphrodite sanctuary 💕

#syd squeaks #collecting foraging instincts whatever i just love stuff #syd’s visage #sort of #aphrodite #vintage decor

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evansbby · 2 years ago

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OKAY BUT. ANDY SEEMS LIKE SO EMOTIONALLY JUST DADDY THROUGH THE WHOLE SERIES I JUST GET THE VIBES.

Admittedly he seems like the falling for the babysitter type but we like that here lol. And also yeah he was doing the bare minimum w Jacob but that’s only cuz the series was very fast paced and didn’t have the time to develop the family relationships which was one of the critiques of it. Also as far as Laurie having more insight into Jacob I don’t think that’s true she came off as a more overbearing helicopter parent rather than a genuinely invested person. In all both of them kinda sucked as parents.

Also when it comes to the book Andy seems like the daddiest daddy who will just bandage ur knee scrapes and bring u back those tiny pastries on his way from work.

Defending Jacob now defending Andy fr

Also can I be 👩‍⚖️ anon because I feel like his lawyer fr haha.

You know what bestie, I admire your enthusiasm for Andy 😌🥹 I may not see him as daddy but you made me almost believe it! So thank you!😌💕💕💕💕

Also hahaha yes of course you can be 👩‍⚖️ anon!!

#👩‍⚖️ anon #anon

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the-ethereal-devotee · 1 year ago

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My long list of f/o tags

hsr = honkai star rail. twst = twisted wonderland pjo = Percy Jackson and the olympians. btv = beware the villainess. htgmhoms = how to get my husband on my side

Romantic f/os: diavolo (obey me!) : my king~ Simeon (obey me!) : my lovely angel <3 Dazai (bungo stray dogs) : you drew stars around my scars~ Chuuya (bungo stray dogs) : anti-gravity…gay :p

Pavia (reverse 1999) : Ciao, Amore! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ Melissa (btv) : the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen~ Nine (btv) : my pretty wolfboy butler <3 Yuri (btv) : the great mage and my queen yuri (0////0)

vil schoenheit (Twst) : ♬mirror mirror on the wall~♬ carter dimond (Twst) : ♢split card!♢

———- Parents: Barbatos (obey me!) : can you help me with something, dad? Lilia (Twst) : ⚠︎NO cooking from you!⚠︎ Trey (Twst) : ♧More pastries, please!♧ Zhongli (genshin) : ✎how about a story?✎

———- Little siblings/like my child: Kailm (Twst) : how about a carpet ride?ᴖᗜᴖ Ortho (Twst) : ✧・₊ tech buddies・₊✧ Silver (Twst) : ᶻz a insomniac and a Narcoleptic ᶻz Nico di angelo (pjo) : ☾⋆♬I’m necromancin~♬⋆☾

Qiqi (genshin) : ❀oh sorry I forgot again❀ Luke (obey me!) : 💕my son, I love you so 💕 Poltergeist (reverse 1999) : ♡my little one♡ Ruby (htgmhoms) : ❤︎‬my darling ruby❤︎‬

————- Older siblings: Levi (obey me!) : ⟡Gotta collect them all!⟡. Belphie (obey me!) : ᶻzsleepy buddiesᶻz Satan (obey me!) : how about this story next… /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ. Beel (obey me!) : best bro, how about we get food! :D. Asmo (obey me!) : time for a makeover~. Mammon (obey me!) : can you get me off the ceiling s/i Lucifer (obey me!) : please get out of your office, Luci Malleus (Twst) : ⟡sweet dreams⟡ Deuce (Twst) : ♡⊹˚₊ a past delinquent?₊˚⊹♡ Jade leech (Twst) : 𓋼𓍊mushrooms?mushrooms!𓍊𓋼 Floyd leech (Twst) : chaotic duo ( •̀ - •́ ) Azul (Twst) : 𓇼 Oh you poor unfortunate soul 𓇼

———— Friend f/os: jamil viper (Twst) : oh goodness, they got in trouble again "( – ⌓ – ) idia shroud (Twst) : this is your set up, really? >:0 epel (Twst) :apple, apple..dip, dip..wanna try it? albedo (genshin) : 🜸☆aroace science buddies☆🜸

clara (hsr) : ♡Mr. Svarog & s/i… are my family♡. hook (hsr) : pitch-dark hook the great! arlan (hsr) : let me protect you now…(ง'̀-'́)ง X (reverse 1999): don’t worry, let’s have some tea

———— Comfort f/os: kirby (Kirby) : my baby puffball <3 waddle dee (Kirby) : my fluffy little boy >:D

———-

#F/o #platonic f/o #familial f/o #f/o community #f/o tags #romantic f/o #fictional other #self ship #self ship tags

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elixirfromthestars · 4 months ago

Text

This was so cute omg!! 🥹💕💕 I absolutely love how descriptive you were throughout the fic like it brought the cafe to life and I was so here for it!!! I’m literally going to go to a cafe tomorrow because the way you were so detailed with those pastries has me craving something sweet 🥐🤎 If I splurge on sweet treats tomorrow I blame you entirely 😌❤️

I’m so in love with the idea of Bucky’s parents owning a coffee shop, like I don’t remember the last time I’ve read a fic where his parents are just living a cute little life 🥺💖 And the fact that he put his sister’s dreams over his AHHH 😭❤️❤️ You have me crying over here 🥺 I just know Bucky was and is the best brother ever 🥺🥺

I loved the title of this fic and how it went perfectly with his latte art specialty 💗 It was so fitting!!! 🤎 I also loved that in this little world Bucky is still good friends with Yori 🫶🏼✨

My favorite part of their dynamic was how observant they were of each other!! But especially how much attention Bucky paid to every little detail about the reader 🥺❤️ Her schedule, making sure she eats, coming in early and on his days off, and worrying about her because he can notice instantly when something’s wrong 🥺❤️❤️❤️ And the way it distracted him like my poor boy was going through it being concerned for the reader, it was sweet!!! 🤭💗💗

Your mouth falls open as you take a glance down into the cup. In the creamy white foam, a delicate rose is perfectly etched, its petals spiraling gracefully outward. Surrounding the rose are tiny, intricate hearts, floating around the bloom. The detail is so mesmerizing that all you can do is stare at it.

^ Are you kidding me?!?!?! 😭💗💗💗 Could he get even more perfect?? And with the added revelation that he learned it for the reader!!!! 💞💞💞 It’s too cute 🥹💖

Thank you so much for joining my writing challenge!! ☺️🫶🏼✨ Barista Bucky will now forever live in my heart 🥰❤️✨

Latte (He)art

Pairing: Barista!Bucky x Coworker!College!Reader

Summary: Your sweet coworker at the café you work at part time is the only thing able to brighten your day. So it’s only practical that he always ends up in the same shift as you.

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Reader having College stress; mentions of a single mother (not reader); some coffee is spilled; Bucky is a sweetheart; Bucky is worried

Author’s Note: This little piece is written for @elixirfromthestars writing challenge. I actually planned to write this a month earlier but life got in between lol. Here it is now. I dearly hope you enjoy what I made of your lovely prompt.

🤎Coffee Cup🤎 “So we’re swapping our cups, and after a while, we’re swapping a glance. And I can think nothing better than starting the year with a drop of romance.” -Anthony Lazaro

Masterlist

The windows of the coffee shop receive more of your attention than the assortment of pastries you’re supposed to prepare to showcase behind the counter.

It’s fifteen minutes before Bucky’s shift starts and your belly flutters at the thought of seeing him again.

The early morning sun filters through the windows, offering a soft glow that casts warm beams of light to sweep across the floor and catch the glistening frosting on the cinnamon rolls. Their sweet, spiced aroma laced with hints of vanilla and brown sugar wafts through the air.

However, your gaze is more drawn to the street outside, scanning the road for a short mop of chestnut hair.

You like to snag shifts before the classes of your day start, relishing in the early morning hours and being satisfied with getting some work done before studying. But in the two and a half months since you started working at ‘Barnes Brown Beans’, you had come to recognize Bucky seems to prefer working in the morning as well. So, he actually may be the main reason.

Also, you’re usually, coincidentally - or so you tell yourself - paired with him anyway.

You’re grateful for this job. The shop’s close proximity to your university makes it an easy commute and the wages are fair. That’s a blessing in itself. But more than that, it was George and Winifred Barnes, the owners, who initially made it easy for you to love this job.

Winifred had greeted you with sweet enthusiasm at your job interview for a part-time job, making you instantly feel more at ease. After asking a few routine questions and warmly assuring you that the position was yours, she shifted the conversation to your studies with genuine interest and asked if you were good with balancing work and university life - a mother's worries.

It didn’t take long for her to start gushing about her children. She explained to you how her son, Bucky, had been helping out at the coffee shop ever since high school. Instead of pursuing college, like many of his peers and his best friend Steve, he chose to stay in New York to help manage the family business. “I’m sure you two will get along well” she had said with a kind of knowing grin you couldn’t make sense of.

She even shared with you that his little sister, Rebecca, always had a burning passion for studying architecture abroad. Unfortunately, the Barnes simply couldn’t afford a college education for both children, so Bucky decided to step up, taking on more responsibility at the shop so his parents wouldn’t be overwhelmed and relieving them of some stressful work, allowing his sister to follow her dreams.

She spoke with so much love and gratitude she held for her son, it almost made you tear up. She mentioned that Bucky never once showed resentment or regret for the path he chose.

Instead, he took pride in his role, and you could see it too. During your brief time working with him, you noticed how he carried himself with a quiet determination. There is genuine joy in the way he treats customers, always kind and attentive, and he always puts so much care into every small detail of his work.

He also loves to tell you about the exams his sister passed, and the friends she made; pride in her success evident when he speaks about her.

You admire him. He’s selfless, hardworking, and full of heart.

So it’s just logical that his parents gave him so much responsibility early on and made him part of the management.

You don’t mind that one second though, because he takes his authority incredibly seriously and usually shows up for his shifts earlier than he needs to.

It’s why your gaze is drawn to the panes of glass at the front once again.

You got in at 7 today, getting enthusiastically greeted by George - as he told you to call him on your first day - and tasked with the usual morning routine. So, as he disappeared into the small office room at the back of the shop, you had started prepping the food equipment and putting it on display.

The shop wouldn’t open until 8, so you still had some time to breathe before the morning rush would start, but you always feel some kind of gratitude at the way George lets you handle yourself at the front while waiting for Bucky to arrive at 7:30 to help out.

Admittedly, you didn’t get that much done yet, caused by the thought of seeing Bucky walk in through the door at any minute.

You saw him just 4 days ago at your last shift, but the giddy anticipation is all the same and you only have three and a half hours with him today before you have to leave for your classes.

The buttery, sweet, and slightly nutty smell of the freshly baked croissants you’re currently rearranging wafts from the trays and reaches your nostrils, but gets ignored the second you hear keys jiggling outside, and your attention snaps to the door.

“Morning doll!”

Bucky’s smooth voice comes through the door with him, cheerful as always as he greets you with a charming smile, and your chest flutters. A rush of cool air hits your exposed skin from outside, but his grin is warming you back up quickly.

You fumble with the croissant in your hand, but recover in time and throw him a smile of your own, hoping you’re able to mask the excitement you tried to hold in all morning.

“Morning, Bucky,” you greet him back sweetly, turning your attention back to the pastries, pretending to focus on your task at hand.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Bucky pulls off his coat and then makes his way over to you, hovering over your shoulder, while putting on his apron. You try to hide the way your hands get a little clammy in the see-through gloves you’re wearing while touching the food.

You tend to the fruit danishes, their glossy, golden crust filled with rich cream cheese and topped with plump raspberries, blueberries, and apricots.

Carefully placing each in its designated spot, you only manage to breathe a little easier when you feel Bucky move over to the coffee machines, their steady hum filling the quiet space as Bucky busies himself.

“Smells amazing, doll,” he calls over his shoulder and you can hear the grin in his voice.

You let out a soft laugh, glancing at him briefly before putting your head back around. “Didn’t make them, Bucky,” you explain, tone playful but modest.

Brewing coffee and clinking mugs are the only sounds you hear before Bucky’s hum reaches your ears. “Maybe you should,” he states, teasing laced with a hint of sincerity. “Bet they’d be gone in seconds.”

You’re grateful that Bucky isn’t in your line of sight because you feel heat creeping up your neck, coloring your cheeks. Your laugh is a little breathless, a little more insecure than you intended.

A few weeks ago you had casually mentioned your love for baking when Bucky had asked about your hobbies, and ever since he loved to bring it up every once in a while.

“I don’t know about that.” You try for nonchalance, but the blush doesn’t leave your face.

“Gotta give yourself more credit, doll,” he replies easily, his words wrapped in that effortless charm of his. You hear some more clinking of cups as he makes one for himself, just like every day. “Want coffee?”

He asks every time. You decline, like every time. Though he never fails to ask.

And it never fails to make your morning feel just a little bit brighter.

****

Watching Bucky create his latte art has become one of the highlights of your day. There is something mesmerizing in the way he moves, pouring the steamed milk with such precision and focus as if each cup would get graded by an artist.

You’ve noticed how much care he puts into it, the way he pauses before finishing, always needing it to be perfect.

You can tell when Bucky isn’t quite satisfied, like right now, as he holds up the cup that looks flawless to you. But there is a twitch of his mouth, a slight hesitation in his hand as if he’s debating whether to start over or risk making it worse with one more pour.

It’s adorable, really. To you, they all look perfect, but he holds himself to a standard that’s somehow both admirable and endearing.

Today, Bucky was the one already there when you arrived at 8 am, along with the first customers of the day.

The scent of fresh coffee had filled the air as you stepped inside, a soft murmur of conversation around you setting the tone for the morning rush.

He was stationed behind the counter, together with one of your coworkers, Peter. It didn’t escape your notice that Bucky caught your eye immediately, flashing you that warm, easy smile even before acknowledging Mr. Nakajima, a frequent visitor.

It was a small gesture but it excited you nonetheless.

Mr. Nakajima, or Yori as you’d heard Bucky call him, now sits in his usual corner, peacefully sipping his tea; his quiet presence a constant in the shop.

The older man always seems content to watch the people go in and out of the shop, observing the ebb and flow of the crowd, wrinkled hands wrapped around his cup as if savoring the warmth.

Bucky often took time to sit with him when things were slow, sharing long and comfortable conversations that seemed to be meaningful. There is something about the way Bucky treats Yori that tugs at your heart.

It seems, that right now Bucky is comfortable with leaving Peter and you to attend to the ebbing crowd as he makes his way to Yori's table and slowly lowers himself in front of him.

You deliberately turn away although there isn’t much to do for you right now since the morning rush is over and Peter attends to the only customer in the shop right now. So, you mindlessly wipe down the counter, not because you’re not interested, but if you spend any more attention on the guy you might get overwhelmed by the awe he arises in you.

The way Bucky smiles when he talks to the old man, the way his face lights up with that blinding, heart-stopping grin - it has a dizzying effect on you. And the laugh he lets slip every so often, low and full of warmth, makes it hard to concentrate on any coffee orders.

Bucky stays at Yori's table for a while. Every now and then you make out his face turning in your direction, lingering a little but you stay focused on your work.

“Y/n?”

The sound of Peters's voice makes your head snap over to him, blinking in expectation.

“Sorry, uh, you seemed a little distracted for a sec,” Peter says with a shy laugh, scratching the back of his neck, eyes flickering not so subtly over to Bucky.

Alright, maybe you have looked a few times. Whatever.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, doing your best to ignore the knowing grin spreading across Peter's face. Thankfully, a girl around your age approaches the counter, saving you from the growing awkwardness. You flash her a smile and focus on her order.

More customers start to stream in, the café again beginning to buzz with activity. Bucky, noticing the crowd building up, excuses himself from Yori’s table with a friendly pat on the old man’s shoulder. He steps back behind the counter, his easygoing demeanor never faltering as he joins in beside you. You share a quick smile.

Working with Bucky always makes it fun in some sense, time slipping by too quickly. Before you know it, it’s time for you to head out for your first class of the day.

You step away from the counter, untie your apron, and grab your things, already feeling reluctant to leave Bucky’s side.

“Already time to go?” Bucky asks, turned in your direction, his voice carrying that familiar deep drawl. There’s a slight disappointment laced in his tone, that doesn’t escape you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “first class is-“

“History,” he finishes for you, without missing a beat.“I remember.”

You hadn’t expected him to recall such a small detail about your schedule, surprise registering on your face. But you quickly push out a smile, nodding at him, your heart doing a little somersault.

“Hold on,” he insists quietly, already moving to snap up a to-go bag and carefully placing a croissant inside. With a casual grin, he holds it out for you to take. “On the house.”

This isn’t the first time Bucky has given you something to go, insisting you take it as a gift. But it never gets easier to accept his small acts of kindness. You hesitate, not making a move to take the bag and Bucky’s smirk only deepens, playing the same game you’ve had before.

“Take it, doll,” he drawls, dangling the bag in front of your face with a playful glint in his eye. “Can’t let you go to class hungry, now can I?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes with a smile tugging at your lips, and snatch the bag from his hand with mock annoyance. “Fine, but this is the last time,” you warn, rather weakly it seems, considering the way Bucky leans against the counter with his arms crossed, smirking at you in an amused manner.

“You know it’s not. Can’t fault me for taking care of you, doll. You haven’t eaten anything all morning.”

His words are casual, but the way he says it, the unspoken concern that lingers, makes giddy warmth rise in your stomach, spreading to your face and heating your skin.

You hope it’s not that obvious, so you just sigh again, dramatically, and exaggerate an eye roll as Bucky lets another cup get filled with coffee, eyes remaining on you, a chuckle fleeing his lips.

You make your way to the door of the shop, knowing you’d just pay him back by slipping some money into the tip jar when you’re in earlier than him.

“And no leaving dollars in the tip jar, sweetheart,” Bucky calls out behind you, the smug amusement clear in his voice. “Ma told me about that.”

Busted.

You turn you head with a faux helpless look, which only sends him into a fit of laughter, the sound rich and full, echoing through the shop, and your heart bursts, ignoring the people standing in the line wearing looks between confusion and annoyance. Laughing quietly yourself, you let the warmth of the moment fill you up, then quickly slip out the door before the flustered grin on your face can betray you any further.

With the door closed, the sounds of the café seal off behind you and you find yourself lingering just a second longer than the last time.

****

“Girl, I’m telling you, that’s nothing! I accidentally made a girl’s latte with cow's milk although she’d ordered oat. Chased her down the street like a lunatic, I mean she could have had an allergy and whatnot. Turns out it was just a preference and she didn’t mind. Talk about embarrassing.”

You chuckle along to Gina’s story, dusting the cappuccino in front of you with a sprinkle of cinnamon, scents mingling together.

Regina - or Gina as she prefers - is always someone you enjoy working with together. She’s incredibly open-minded and carries that vibrant energy you need to get through the day. She’s got a few years on you but never fails to make you laugh.

While brewing coffee and selling them, she loves to tell you about her little boy, Nikita. You’ve seen pictures of him on her phone and he’s adorable with puffy cheeks, dark curls, and dark green eyes. He must have those from his father.

You know she is a single mother and you admire the way she takes it with pride, finding peace in her situation and insisting that she and Nikita are better off without his father.

You’ve also come to find out that 'Barnes Brown Beans' wasn’t the only job she had but that George and Winifred are so much fairer than her other boss, being supportive and trying to give her shifts that accommodate her schedule so she could pick up Nikita from kindergarden early enough to still have time with him every day.

Another thing that makes this job so valuable.

Earlier was a brief lull in the crowd, allowing you and her to chat. The conversation had drifted into the realm of embarrassing work stories. You shared one of your own, recalling how, in your first week, you had prepared a to-go coffee. You felt that nervousness that comes with starting a new job and as you tried to slide the cup over the counter to the customer, your aim had been far too enthusiastic. The cup sailed past the edge, spinning gracefully through the air before landing in the trash bin.

You hoped that perhaps nobody really saw what happened besides the slightly perturbed man in front of you. But since you shared this shift with Bucky and he always seems to have an eye on you, of course, he was a witness. You remember the way his laugh had erupted, uncontainable, filling the air behind the counter. He had leaned against it for support while you stood there, cheeks burning.

He didn’t make you feel bad though, helping you remake the coffee and almost sheepishly adding that the same thing happened to him once. Only, in his case, it was a porcelain cup. And it didn’t land in the bin. The image of it crashing to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces as coffee splattered everywhere, was enough to make you feel a little less embarrassed.

“Something funny?”

The familiar voice catches you off guard and you look up from the register. Sure enough, Bucky is strolling up to the counter, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets and that handsome grin on his face that always causes your stomach to do flips.

“Bucky?” you ask, a soft, confused laugh escaping you. You feel your heart jump in excitement and try to tone it down. He wasn’t supposed to come in for a few more hours, and you had already resigned yourself to the disappointment of missing him today. You’d seen the shift schedule last week and the realization was like a cloud casting a shadow over your mood.

So, seeing him standing in front of you only makes a smile stretch wide without even thinking.

“I think you’re a little early,” you assess, voice light as you ring up the girl standing at the counter. Handing her the cappuccino, you glance back at him, the small transaction barely registering as your attention stays fixed on Bucky.

His grin only widens as he shrugs with a kind of faux nonchalance, letting his gaze sweep across the room. His smile stays in place, even as he steps aside for a middle-aged man approaching you.

“Couldn’t stay away,” he teases with that signature edge of playfulness that always gets to you.

As you start to prepare the man’s coffee, you can feel Bucky’s gaze on you, watching your every move. It’s a weight you’ve grown fond of - his silent observation that makes you more aware of yourself, in a good way.

You flash him a quick smile before refocusing.

“Also had to know how that exam went,” he adds casually, leaning in just a little, but you’re aware of that curiosity his voice always carries when he asks you about college. Or anything about your life, really.

You huff out a small laugh, ringing up the man’s order and sliding his coffee across the counter before turning your full attention back to Bucky. “Wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be,” you answer him, a hint of relief in your tone since you had been stressing about this exam for weeks. “I think I did okay.”

Bucky leans against the counter now, propping himself up in that relaxed way of his, eyes never leaving yours. You’re glad you get to talk to him, glad that Gina attends to the only current customer right now and you have a second with Bucky, but the unknown power his gaze holds over you threatens to overwhelm you.

“What’d I tell ya, doll? Of course, you did great. Smartest girl I know.”

You snort, but your heart races. He always seems so sure of your success, having this confidence in you, that you feel you lack sometimes and it makes warmth pool in your gut. “Well I guess I’ll have to thank you, then,” you reply, smile present and voice light but the gratitude is real.

His scent - a mix of something warm and clean, almost earthy, and his cologne - cuts through the usual aroma of coffee beans and pastries. It’s grounding and you have to remind yourself to focus as you move toward the coffee machines.

“Do you want coffee?” you throw over your shoulder, fingers already hovering over the buttons.

Bucky straightens up in your peripherals and you make out the shake of his head with that soft smile on his face. “Don’t wanna keep you from work. I’ll make it myself, thanks doll!”

The door to the café swings open and three girls walk in together, laughter filling the room as they make their way over to you. Bucky’s movements snap your head back to him as he casually slips behind the counter, stepping up to the coffee machines and you head back to the register, keeping awareness of his presence as always.

Since Bucky’s shift doesn’t start yet, he stays lingering behind the counter and engages in conversation with Gina when he notices you getting busy again. From where you stand you can hear snippets of their conversation - Bucky asking about Nikita and when he gets to see him again.

You never realized they are that close but the thought of Bucky caring about that little boy instantly heats your skin. There’s a softness to imagining him in that role, and you can easily picture how good he must be with kids.

After all, you’ve seen it before - the way his face lights up when he catches sight of children toddling along beside their parents, the way he bends down to their height, engages them in little conversations that always leave them giggling or grinning from ear to ear. It’s endearing and really no wonder that every child he talks to seems to adore him.

But what really tugs at your heart, what causes a flutter deep in your chest, is the subtle way Bucky’s attention keeps drifting back to you.

Even in the middle of his chat with Gina, you can feel his gaze lingering on you. There is a quiet fondness in the way he watches you go about your work, always wearing that soft expression.

It’s not like he’s checking if you’re doing your job right - nothing about it feels critical or scrutinizing. Instead, it’s as if he’s simply enjoying observing you, absorbing the way you move through your tasks, as though he’s eager to learn all the little details that make up your routine.

And surprisingly, it doesn’t make you as nervous as you might have believed. If anything, there is something soothing about his attention, like a silent reassurance you never knew you needed.

Occasionally, throughout your shift, Bucky strikes up conversations with familiar customers - frequent flyers whose names he already knows by heart. You catch bits and pieces of their easy small talk, but even then, his eyes always find their way back to you.

And every time you meet them, your heart swells with hope that perhaps the reason he came in early for his shift might be you.

****

Your week has been nothing short of overwhelming and frustrating - packed with assignments, papers to write, and facts to memorize. To top it off, a fellow student had yelled at you for breaking his pen, and you still remember that disappointed glint in your professor's eyes after failing to give him satisfying answers in class.

It feels like you are constantly juggling everything at once, and somehow, the balance has tipped entirely.

Sleep has become a rare luxury, replaced by caffeine-fueled study sessions that stretch into the early hours of the morning.

As you walk to the café for your afternoon shift, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, the exhaustion settling in your bones.

You rarely work afternoon shifts, but this one fits perfectly behind your friday classes and you have been too swamped the rest of the week to pick up any shifts at all.

Your pace is slower than usual, feet dragging slightly on the pavement. There is no real need to hurry today. Normally, your steps would quicken as you approached the café, that familiar, sweet sign with its three big B’s always managing to lift your mood.

But today the excitement isn’t there. Not when you know Bucky has the day off. Without him there, the urgency to get to work just isn’t the same.

But, thinking about it, it might be for the best that Bucky is not around today. You can’t imagine you look all that appealing right now, with dark bags under your eyes - the kind that no amount of concealer could hide. Your skin has that worn-out, dull shimmer to it - the kind that no amount of caffeine could mask.

You catch a glimpse of your reflection in a shop window as you pass and wince slightly. The fatigue shows in your features, and for a moment, you’re thankful that this day won’t include the possibility of Bucky catching sight of you in this state.

You’re partly relieved to have a shift where you can simply focus on getting through it without feeling self-conscious. There is no need to hide how utterly drained you feel because you really couldn’t care less how your appearance would affect your customers. You just need to make it through these few hours, go home, and hopefully, finally get some rest.

You pull open the door, gathering what little composure you can muster. The all-known blend of rich coffee, baked pastries, and warm, cozy air greets you as always, along with the chatter from the packed room. It’s busy, as expected for this time of day, but the environment surprisingly helps ground you as you weave your way through the crowd, slipping between patrons.

Your eyes catch Winifred at the back, her beaming smile a quick but comforting sight before she disappears behind the office door with a wave.

Side-stepping two men chatting near the line, you get a clearer view of the counter and freeze - feet refusing to continue.

Thanks to the work schedule you know who your coworkers are today. Peter was assigned, as well as Wanda, a nice, but slightly odd girl with a thick accent and laser-like focus on her task.

You had prepared for them both. But it isn’t Wanda standing next to Peter behind the counter.

It’s Bucky.

Your heart jumps into your throat and you’re not sure if it’s because of the surprise of seeing him or because of how unprepared you feel in this exact moment. You didn’t even check your hair in a car window before entering.

He’s here - on his supposed day off - laughing with a guy on the other side of the counter as he works the espresso machine, his movements smooth and practiced; no surprise there. His presence is so casual and effortless that you find yourself thinking your tired eyes might have looked at the wrong day on the schedule and perhaps you aren’t even supposed to work today. Though Winifred wasn’t at all surprised to see you.

Your head spins at the simple thought and yet a ripple of warmth shoots through you at the sight of him, making you momentarily forget just how drained you are.

While every fiber of your being wants to feel self-conscious about your tired eyes and the imperfections on your skin, craving to stay hidden between the line of people, the longer you watch him work, it gets overtaken by something else.

That same old lightness that seems to follow him wherever he goes and sticks to you when you’re near enough, soaking into your veins and filling them with energy. You can practically feel them fizzle.

You would have liked to linger in this moment just a little longer, but it’s cut short abruptly when he spots you. His polite smile brightens instantly, eyebrows moving up slightly as his eyes lighten up.

You flash him a smile in return, though you can feel it wobble at the edges, probably more sheepish than anything else. Maybe it even comes off as a grimace with the exhaustion weighing on you, but you quickly break eye contact and resume walking.

For a moment, you make out Bucky’s hand pausing mid-motion, hovering above the counter before he slides a to-go cup to the waiting guy on the other side.

Passing by, you can feel his gaze trailing after you, burning softly against your skin, a quiet but intense presence that follows you even when you’re not looking.

You busy yourself with dialing in for the shift, wrapping your apron around your waist, doing your best to shake off the fatigue and the flutter that Bucky’s unexpected presence elicits in you.

From behind you, you catch the sound of his voice, though it sounds a little distracted, asking the next customer to repeat their order.

You glance back, quickly greeting Peter as you pass, but your focus is drawn to the pastry case, where a small woman waits for service. You keep your hands moving, bagging up her choice of pastries - two croissants and four scones - but make out Bucky’s head turning in your direction a few times.

You steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye, noticing the slight furrow in his brow as he works. He’s a little slower now, less sure in his movements than when you first walked in. It’s subtle, but you can tell his focus is slipping. Something about his energy has shifted.

Minutes pass and the three of you stay busy with the steady stream of customers. You remain behind the pastry case, preparing the treats for the eager crowd. In between transactions, you notice Bucky taking a step in your direction, hesitating each time like he wants to step closer but keeps pulling himself back at the last second.

He returns to the register every time, tending to the next person in line, but there is an urgency in his movements now. His hands got quicker again, fingers tapping impatiently against the counter as he waits for the coffee to brew and his gaze falls back to you every so often but you avoid it.

Another few minutes tick by and you begin to settle into the rhythm of the shift when a sudden shout rings out from the front.

Your head snaps up, eyes locking onto the group of people stepping back from the counter hastily, startled by the splash of coffee that arcs through the air.

The cup that had caused the commotion clinks against the counter, slipping in Bucky’s hand and his other one shoots out to hold it steady before it can meet the ground alongside the coffee that was in it moments before.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Bucky exclaims, his voice thick with frustration as he shakes his head at himself, wiping the spilled brown liquor from his hands. He quickly puts away the cup and apologizes again to the man it was meant for and the crowd of people who got startled.

The customer, a guy who looks to be in his mid-twenties, holds up his hands in a placating gesture, clearly not bothered by the accident. His jacket sleeve is stained with coffee, but he brushes it off with a casual shrug. “No worries, man, really. Nothing happened, you’re good!”

Bucky doesn’t seem to relax. You can see the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders are still tight as he remakes the drink with stiff, almost mechanical precision. You’ve never seen him so rattled but then again, he has been unfocused ever since he saw you.

Work continues steadily for the next half hour, with the rush of patrons finally starting to taper off. The café gradually empties, the throng thinning out until only a handful of people remain, some of them sitting in booths going on with their conversations.

You catch sight of Bucky leaning in closer to Peter, murmuring something you can’t quite make out. Peter nods, and without another word and a small pat on Peter’s shoulder, Bucky steps back from the counter.

This time, his hesitation is gone as he strides over to you.

He stops beside you, eyes on your profile. “Hey,” he speaks softly, voice low.

You finish helping a boy, thanking him for the tip before turning to Bucky with a small smile.

“Hey,” you reply, voice matching his softness but quieter. You turn your attention to the young girl in front of you, requesting a cookie. Reaching for a bag to tuck the treat inside, you continue the conversation, though your eyes stay focused downward.

“Didn’t expect to see you here today,” you comment, sensing his gaze on you.

“Yeah, uh, I took Wanda’s shift,” Bucky responds, his voice a little more tentative now. You notice him shuffling slightly beside you, standing up straighter.

He offers no further explanation as to why he picked up the shift, and you don’t feel the energy to ask about it. For some reason, the simple act of bagging a cookie while talking to him feels like a juggling act your tired brain isn’t quite up for.

So all you manage is a noncommittal hum in response.

The girl leaves with her cookie and Bucky stays beside you, solid and unyielding in his gaze. It presses on you like a weight as the moments pass.

Your stomach flutters uneasily when you realize there’s no line left to distract you, no excuse to stay busy.

You move automatically, reaching for the paper bags, rearranging them with a bit more force than necessary, trying to give yourself something to focus on, something other than Bucky’s eyes burning into you.

“Are you okay?” he asks finally, slowly and lowly, as if the question is something private meant only for you. It is. You feel the shift in his tone, the way he leans in slightly as if he needs a sincere answer to his sincere question.

It pulls your attention to him and you reluctantly lift your head, your heart twisting at the sight. Bucky gazes down at you with an expression far more serious than you’ve ever seen. His blue eyes, usually filled with a glimmering light when he looks at you, hold an amount of concern that seems to have an impact on his stiff muscles.

“I’m fine, Bucky,” you declare gently, smiling at him in hopes it’ll reassure him, though even before the words have left your lips completely, you felt it wasn’t entirely convincing.

Bucky studies you a moment longer. His eyes trace your features, dark brows hanging low, but you don’t take your words back.

Then, after a pause he lets out a long drawn sigh, hanging his head in defeat. He obviously doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t push it. The concern in his eyes remains but he lets it go, stepping back from you slowly.

He walks over to the coffee machines, deliberately trying to feign casualness. He grabs a cup and turns the familiar button after checking if Peter needs some help at the register, the whirring sound of brewing coffee filling the brief silence between you.

“You want some coffee?” he asks, like clockwork - just as he does every time you work together.

Without thinking, you open your mouth to decline, as usual. It’s almost muscle memory at this point, your automatic response. But then, mid-through, you pause. Another shot of caffeine can’t hurt. You can use the energy to get home safely without passing out after this shift.

The cup fills, steam rises, and Bucky turns to you when you take too long to answer.

You hesitate for a beat, then shift your gaze away, feeling a little awkward. “Yeah, I’ll take one,” you decide, stepping beside him to grab yourself a cup, eyes not moving to him.

But before you can reach for one, Bucky’s hand wraps gently around your wrist, halting you. The touch is light, but enough to make your pulse quicken. “Hold on,” he remarks, his voice filled with concern rather than confusion. “You never want coffee when I ask.” His intense eyes search your face again.

“If you always expect me to say no, then why do you keep asking?”

Bucky doesn’t respond immediately. He just keeps looking at you, quietly pleading for honesty. “That ain’t the point,” he softy counters but his voice carries insistence. “Something’s wrong.”

You sigh. God, you’re tired. You really need that coffee and you’d certainly feel terrible for getting annoyed at Bucky. He’s just trying to figure you out. He cares. That thought alone presses against the wall you’ve been trying to maintain all day.

Gently, you pull your wrist from his loose grip, and he lets his hand fall back to his side, though his gaze doesn’t waver.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Damn, that came out hollow. “I’m just a little stressed,” you add when he starts to shake his head, “and I could use a cup. It’s just coffee, Bucky.”

You see the muscles in his jaw tighten and his hand comes up to run through his hair.

“It’s not just coffee, darling,” he sighs. There’s a pause in which he assesses you again, then he continues. “Alright. Don’t take this the wrong way, doll. You know you’re a beautiful gal, but… you look like you’re about to drop dead.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. It looks like tiredness comes with an attitude, because your mind foregoes the part where he called you beautiful, only hearing the other side.

“Well.” You draw out the word. “If you don’t want me to drop dead, then let me have some coffee.” There is a bit of edge to your tone you hadn’t exactly intended, but you’re too tired to smooth it out. You also don’t wait for him to respond, quickly reaching for another cup and pressing the button before Bucky can grab your arm again.

Bucky stays quiet for a moment, watching you with those piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through your walls. He doesn’t look angry - just worried.

As the coffee pours you hear him take a breath. “Alright,” Bucky says quietly, almost under his breath. “I’m sorry, Y/n,” he adds after a short pause. Firmness, sincerity, and perhaps an amount of regret are all wrapped in his tone.

He used your name. You haven’t heard him say your name since the first time working here. And never with that much conviction.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just… worried.” His voice softens even more, it sounds almost pleading and he takes a quick glance back at Peter, who was busy attending to the few patrons mingling about, before refocusing on you, his hand brushing over his hair. “I’ve seen you stressed before. Like when you kept going on about how worried you were for that exam. I watched you go through the stuff you had to learn in your head while remaining so incredibly focused and sweet during work. I admire that, Y/n. I must’ve told you a thousand times you’d ace it, but you wouldn’t believe me.” He chuckles lowly, sheepishly, and he licks his lips, before continuing. His gaze leaves you, mind seemingly far in his memories.

“Or your first day here. You were so nervous about making a mistake. You asked so many questions, were so interested in everything. I kept thinking about you all day. Every day, really.” He took another deep breath. It comes out a little unsteady and his eyes quickly flicker over to you, not quite meeting your own, but still searching your features.

“But this… this is different, and- I don’t know. I don’t like it. Hate it, honestly. Seeing you like this.”

His words hit you deep. The genuine concern and sincerity in his tone make your chest tighten, throat closing up and you feel yourself losing your breath as he takes a small step closer, eyes now fully on yours again. The nerves in his voice that had been there are gone now. Because he’s sure of what he says next. It’s clear in his tone.

“But, sweetheart, even through it all, you still manage to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Drop dead gorgeous, honestly.”

You let out a surprised huff of laughter, partly because it’s easier than acknowledging and processing the meaning of his words. Heat creeps up your cheeks and all you feel like doing is bolt out of the door at the other end of the room but your feet are rooted to the spot. Perhaps, the floor would just give away and you’d fall deep down into the unknown.

That still would be kinder than standing in front of Bucky right now after his heavy confessions, feeling too vulnerable under his soft gaze.

You’re not able to meet his eyes, dropping your head. You know he is still looking at you. You don’t have to feel it to know it. That gentle expression, the reassuring smile - like he’s silently conveying that everything’s okay.

“Let me make you feel better, yeah?” Bucky’s voice is barely above a whisper, gentle, yet filled with intent. He gives you a moment, letting his earlier confessions sink in, before taking hold of the now full cup that is meant for you. Your eyes widen slightly when you see him grab the can of freshly steamed milk, an almost eager smile tugging at his lips.

“Are you pulling your latte art on me?” you ask with a light laugh, some of the tension in your chest loosening. There is a little bit of a teasing note in your voice now, your heartbeat beginning to slow.

“Sure am, doll!” Bucky grins proudly, lifting the cup higher. His brow furrows in concentration as he carefully pours the milk with a steady hand, his tongue briefly poking out as he narrows his eyes to get the design just right. You had seen him do this many times before but never for you.

The precision and dedication he’s giving to something as simple as your coffee makes your heart swell. You’re the one watching him now with a soft smile, utterly mesmerized by how serious he’s taking it.

You take a glance at the other cup - the one Bucky had made for himself and an idea hits you. Steam still rises from the liquid inside, the scent of fresh coffee meeting your nose.

You look around the counter, spotting the milk pot Peter had just set down and, without a second thought, you pick up Bucky’s cup, ready to return the favor. You lift the milk and begin to pour.

“What are you doing, doll?” Bucky’s gaze stays fixed on the cup in his hand, but his smile is beaming, curiosity lacing his words.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that,” you retort, your voice playful as you guide the milk with careful precision, weaving your hand in the practiced motions until you’re satisfied with the design.

Bucky’s chuckle is warm and soft and for a moment, it feels like the world shrinks down to just the two of you, the quiet intimacy cutting through the noise of the ebbing café.

Bucky finishes his work and sets the milk pot back down. There is a slight hesitation in his movements as he hands over the cup for you, a touch of nervousness creeping into his stance. You smile up at him and offer the cup in your hand to him. His hands are a little clammy as they touch yours. You swap coffees.

“This is incredible, Bucky,” you breathe out, voice filled with amazement. When you look up, he’s already watching you. He’s breathing deeply and his smile is in place. But there is also something in his eyes he doesn’t try to hold back - pure adoration, shining clearly like he just can’t hide it anymore.

He holds his own cup carefully, as if it’s something precious, something fragile, as if even the tiniest movement would mess up the heart in white swirling in his cup. Though, you feel like the simple heart pales in comparison to the masterpiece he’s created for you.

“It’s beautiful,” you say quietly, a hint of shyness in your tone. You feel a tiny amount of embarrassment but Bucky just keeps smiling, so warm and incredibly fond, that any hint of insecurity melts away.

“Learned it for you,” he admits it softly, his words slipping out like a secret he’s been holding onto for too long. Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening slightly before you look back down at the cup, tracing the design over and over again with your gaze.

“I love it, Bucky. I love these little hearts,” you address admiringly, almost dreamily.

Bucky is beaming above you, and although he shakes his head softly, his smile never leaves his face. He takes in a deep breath, seemingly needing to compose himself and looks down at his own cup, at the heart in it.

“Well,” he vocalizes, affection surrounded by a playful edge, “my heart’s bigger.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t flatter yourself, Barnes. It’s the only thing I know how to do.”

He chuckles, that vibrating sound, that always makes your chest feel lighter. “I can teach you,” he offers, his bright blues looking deeply into your eyes, so full of affection that it makes your breath catch for a second.

And in that second - because that’s all it takes - everything shifts. For the better. Always for the better, because it’s hard to feel anything negative when Bucky smiles at you the way he does.

“you deserve

the kind of love

like hot coffee between your lips

that loves you gently

but makes you bold

and gives you life between the sips”

- a.b.

#elixirscafe #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au #bucky fic #marvelstoriesepic ♡#lovely mutuals ♡🎀♡

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lifetipscenter · 2 years ago

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Cake I bake On my Mum’s Birthday - Blueberry cream cake 🎂 Chocolate cake 🎂 . No matter How Much mess I created while making, smile and happy faces of my parents worth it all❤️❤️ . And yes! They loved the cake soooo much that they finished the whole cake yesterday only😅 . Sharing the cakes virtually with you all guys❤️✨ Thank you each one of the people who supports me generously here✨💕 May you all always be blessed 😇 #homemadecake #delicious #birthday #sweet #cake #happybirthday #chocolate #homemade #foodstagram #foodphotography #dessert #baking #cupcakes #explore #cakedesign #birthdaycake #cakes #bakery #madewithlove #pastry #cookwithdivya #blueberrycake #chocolatecake https://www.instagram.com/p/CqcYPdYPJsV/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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mia-tiny · 2 years ago

Text

Coming Home | K. Hongjoong

⇒ pairing: k. hongjoong x fem!reader

⇒ smut, estranged friends to lovers, small town nostalgia, slow-ish burn?, unprotected sex (big no no), oral & fingering (fem receiving), tame dirty talk, reader called “baby,” mutual pining, car sex, some light drinking

⇒ word count: 14.4k

⇒ summary: After six years spent in the city, coming back to your rural home for the holidays has you confronting your feelings not only about your old life, but also about your estranged best friend who you left behind.

💕 view my masterlist here

🖤 view my Kinktober ‘22 masterlist here

⇒ author’s note: my first shot at a longer, more slow burn style fic. thinking of mixing it up between longer pieces like this and my usual oneshot style fics going forward.

Six years.

That is how long it has been since you’ve returned to your humble hometown deep in the middle of nowhere, but somehow the dilapidated city limit sign on the side of the road looks exactly the same as it did years ago, with chips of paint peeling off at the corners and a faded graffiti tag covering half the town’s name. It welcomes you back into a world you left long ago in search of neon lights rather than the glow of bonfires and bustling streets instead of gravel paths.

It’s not that you hate this town, in fact growing up here was filled with joy and freedom, but you had always wanted to see what else the world has to offer. Ever since you can remember, you’ve imagined yourself living the glamorous city life that you always saw on TV, and everyone here knew you had plans to leave the rural ways behind. You’ve always wanted to open a cute little cafe on a busy backstreet with the best coffee and pastries in town, maybe even expanding the business to become a chain once you’re making enough money. This dream is why you ended up moving away for college and never coming back. Well, at least until now.

Coming home for the holidays hadn’t entirely been your decision, though. For many years, your family has traveled to you instead since it meant a fun vacation away from home, but your mother’s recent surgery took that option off the table this year while she is still recovering. Your choices for Christmas were therefore to either sit at home alone in your pajamas or to make the long drive back to this quaint town that you haven’t really thought about twice since departing.

In many ways, returning feels almost like breathing with how natural and ingrained it is in your nature, but in some ways it is also oddly terrifying. Just feeling the familiar breeze and warmth of the rural sun on your skin has you unsettled, as if you are being pushed to confront the life you left behind in comparison to the one you’ve been living. You’re not entirely unaware of the fact that city living isn’t as perfect as you’d imagined it to be, but you’ve never allowed yourself to dwell on that thought long enough for it to take root.

If you’re being honest, you must admit that it has definitely been difficult to keep up with such high living expenses, working multiple jobs, and adjusting to the hustle and bustle of the fast-paced urban landscape. Making friends and finding a community has also been much harder since most everyone is so closed off or caught up in their own self-centered drama. Still, even if it isn’t as glamorous as you imagined, it is something you’ve always wanted, so surely it’s right.

As you cruise along, you notice that the antiquated shops and homes littered along the main stretch of road look as though they have been on pause since you left, even every pebble and every leaf at their feet having waited patiently in their spot for your return. The recognizable scene breeds a sense of comfort steeped in the thought that no matter how far you stray, this little town is a constant. Are you perhaps the only thing that has changed?

As you pull down a few back streets and onto the humble paths with houses spaced much more generously than in the city, your parents’ little cabin-esque home soon comes into view, and you can already spot your dad waiting for you on the porch. A smile immediately brightens his face as he notices you, and you stick your arm out of the open window to return his giddy wave. By the time you’ve made it down the driveway, your entire family has spilled outdoors to greet you, even including your grandparents and some uncles and aunts who have come over to welcome you back home.

Through the enthusiastic hugs and mandatory cheek squeezes, you can already smell the sweet scent of your mom’s cooking wafting through the house. Even though she is still recovering from her surgery, you can’t imagine she has made anything less than a feast to celebrate your presence. You soon come to find, however, that she has truly outdone herself by inviting half the town over for a party in the evening. This wasn’t quite the greeting you were expecting after such a long and tiring drive, but it shouldn’t really be surprising to once again be showered with the overwhelming love that has always been available to you here. In a town this small, everyone just feels like extended family with how well you know and look after each other. Consequently, they all want to be present for your homecoming, and you’ve got only an hour to prepare yourself for the extreme degree of affection about to come your way.

With family greetings set aside for the moment, you lug your packed suitcase up the squeaky hardwood stairs and into your childhood bedroom. Your parents have left it virtually untouched despite you having been gone for so long. The walls are still a faded baby blue and your twin bed sits in the corner, covered by a tacky floral comforter that you had thought, at age thirteen, was the pinnacle of home decor. Bookcases filled with cheesy teen romance novels and small plastic trophies sit alongside your worn wooden desk, which you take a seat at with a heavy exhale that gives away how tired you already are. Seven hours in the car is perhaps a few too many.

Your eyes glance over the old pictures stuck to the wall just over your desk and you smile at the nostalgic images. The one on the end catches your attention with its bright pop of orange and you lean forward to peel it off for a closer look. Sure enough, it is a photo of you and Hongjoong from your high school graduation in which you are laughing obnoxiously at something he must’ve said. Or you were perhaps laughing at his hair, which he had to dye orange for the event upon losing a bet with you over whether or not he would cry from watching Titanic. He did, of course, and his loss is now forever recorded in all your graduation pictures.

A small chuckle escapes you as you recall the fond memory, but part of you also saddens as you gaze at the image. Like everything else in this town, Hongjoong was something you ended up inadvertently leaving behind despite your long history with one another. He had been your neighbor from the time you were both born just days apart, meaning you naturally became best friends as you spent your childhood together playing outdoors or making mischief. You both grew into your adolescence as partners in crime and many things changed, but he was always constant. Until you left.

It wasn’t that you wanted to abandon him, but you suddenly had a life where he wasn’t constantly by your side, something neither of you really knew how to manage when it came to maintaining your friendship. As time went on, and life got busy, you both just ended up slipping further apart. Now it has been years since you spoke last and every time you think of him, you can’t deny the pang of guilt that eats away at your heart.

He won’t be here tonight, will he?

A moment of panic washes through you as you imagine having to face him once again after all this time, but you quickly relax as you realize he probably left this town as well. He has always had many artistic passions and talents, so surely he has found his way to bigger and better things. He was always meant for greatness, after all.

Thoughts of Hongjoong set aside, you diligently prepare yourself for the amount of energy you’re about to expend rehashing the last six years of your life to every single person you’re about to see. There is no doubt in your mind that they will all want to know every last detail, but only after spending time gushing about how much you’ve grown. It will likely get to be a tiring process, but they’re all people you love who are simply excited to see you, so you choose to see it as endearing rather than irritating.

The first hour of the party goes by smoothly with family friends and neighbors pouring into your home and spilling out into the backyard where your father has started a bonfire. The amount of hugs you’ve received in your lifetime has likely doubled from tonight alone, but it feels amazing to be so warmly welcomed back. Falling back into the natural rhythm of the small-town life comes easier and easier with each guest that arrives even though your level of exhaustion keeps slowly increasing. One cup of coffee on the way here was definitely not enough.

Still, it is great to see everyone and hear what they’ve been up to. Your neighbor, Amanda, who runs the liquor store in town, is especially quick to catch you up on all the local drama you’ve missed. Apparently Peter and Larissa have gotten a divorce and are in the middle of a nasty custody battle, John’s son got a full college scholarship for football, and there is thought to be a new ghost haunting the local library (because the lights flickering sometimes must mean a ghost). These are only the first three things she tells you and there is so much more that you can’t even keep track of, but just hearing about it has you feeling connected to the town again in a way that you missed.

In the middle of letting Amanda retell the entire timeline of her last relationship that you hadn’t been privy to, the front door creaks open once again and you glance in its direction to see who else has arrived, only for your heart to immediately hit the floor. Even from across the crowded room you can tell exactly who it is stepping in timidly with their beaming parents in tow. And much to your dismay, his eyes glaze over the swarm of people until they lock on yours while you continue to openly gawk at him in shock.

Kim Hongjoong. The one and only person you were afraid of running into tonight.

He looks both the same and completely different at the same time. The skinny, clumsy boy that you once knew has been replaced by a mature, handsome man who bears resemblance, but has clearly grown into himself over time. His hair is no longer the faded orange you last saw him with when you left for college, but is instead an ashy light brown that makes his complexion glow. The raggedy old band t-shirts he used to live in have now been replaced with a crisp white button up paired with an oversized brown cardigan, leading him to look both dressed up and dressed down at the same time. He has even accessorized with some wire glasses and multiple new piercings, some of which are connected by flashy silver chains.

Since when has he known how to dress this well?

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. He’s coming this way. Pick your jaw up off the fucking floor and compose yourself before you end up looking like an even bigger moron!

“Y/N!” Hongjoong’s mother sing-songs as she pushes past her son to reach you with outstretched arms.

“Mrs. Kim!” you call back with a forced amount of enthusiasm as she envelops you in a crushing embrace. She was always like a second mother to you, so you would be elated to see her if it weren’t for her son’s presence making your brain glitch in an absolute panic.

“Oh, darling, I’ve missed you so much!” She swings you from side to side in her excitement, almost tipping you over before her husband prompts her to let you go, also saying hello in the process. She settles for resting her hands on your shoulders as she takes in your appearance with total glee. “I can’t believe you’re finally back! How is the city treating you? Is it just like you thought it would be? What about the jobs there? I’m sure you must’ve met so many incredible people! Oh goodness, Joongie, come say hi!”

Despite asking so many questions, her hysteria doesn’t even allow you to get a word in before she is pulling her son out from behind her so that he can face you. Your expression surely pales in that instant and you can feel your palms moisten with sweat. You both just stare at each other for a moment, his expression unreadable as the rest of the commotion in the room is completely droned out of your mind.

“Oh, baby, don’t be shy! You used to be best friends! She’s still the same girl you grew up with,” his mother prompts, entirely unaware of the strange tension thickening the air.

“Hey, Y/N,” Hongjoong finally utters, sticking out his hand for you to shake. You look at it, frozen in place by the distance in his action.

“Joongie, don’t be silly. Give her a hug, it’s been forever!” Mrs. Kim once again chimes in with a motivating nudge on his shoulder.

He glances at her in a manner that clearly reveals his discomfort, but quickly suppresses the feeling and avoids eye contact as he steps forward to embrace you loosely, your torsos not even touching as you awkwardly lift your hands up to pat his back. Even if he has changed so much, one thing is for sure: he still wears the same cologne you had gifted him at age 16 when you cordially asked him to cover his “man odor.”

When he pulls away, neither of you can look at each other. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you want nothing more than for the floor to open you up and suck you down into hell. As if seeing him again isn’t uncomfortable enough, his mother being this clueless has made the interaction one thousand times worse. You need to escape this situation right now.

“It’s so great to see you all, thank you for coming!” you start off graciously with the most hospitable voice you can muster. “I’m actually going to head to the restroom, but please make yourselves at home. There is dinner in the kitchen if you’re hungry and seats out back as well. I’ll be around.”

You begin slowly walking away while speaking so that by the time you finish, they are unable to suck you back into a conversation. Your feet carry you to the bathroom in a mad rush, though you try not to let the other guests see just how panicked you are. As soon as you make it there, you slam the door shut and lock it, your back then resting against the wall as you take deep breaths.

In the weeks leading up to this trip home, you hadn’t really considered the possibility of seeing Hongjoong again. Whether that was because you truly forgot about him or because you convinced yourself that he would’ve vanished into thin air, you aren’t entirely sure. Since you stopped talking to him, any reminder of his existence and what you had let go was always a painful assault on your psyche. Instead of recalling all of the great memories together, your heart has been plagued with guilt and shame over the ending of your friendship. Seeing him in person again, especially combined with his distant attitude, has your negative emotions festering at ten times the usual intensity.

You sink down to sit on the floor as you try to grapple with the other major issue occupying your brain. As soon as he walked through the door, beyond the guilt you felt, all of the suppressed feelings you’ve always harbored for Hongjoong rapidly came rising to the surface.

The chemistry that the two of you have shared throughout your lives has always been deeper and more meaningful than how either of you connect with other friends. The spark between you has always been sort of an unspoken acknowledgement in your relationship, something too delicate for either of you to address lest it open up doors you are both too afraid to enter.

You could always feel it, though. When you would play hooky together to go see the latest superhero film, the nights under the stars that you’d spend getting high by the lake, the way he would obnoxiously call your name across the hallway at school, his words of comfort and encouragement after your every break up. In all these moments and more, you could tell just how deeply connected you are in a manner that transcends friendship, and you could tell that Hongjoong felt it too.

At the same time, however, you knew that the second you gave in to these feelings, you may have never been able to let go. You were terrified of falling so deeply into Hongjoong that you’d never escape. It always felt as if just one wrong move–

You jump in surprise as a loud rasping on the door abruptly wakes you from your thoughts.

“Oh, uh, just a moment!” you call in a hurried response, pulling yourself from the floor and taking one last deep breath to steel yourself before facing the party again.

You open the door and leave your temporary sanctuary so that your uncle can enter, the laughter from the next room practically teasing your anxious state as your moment of solitude ends. You just have to get through this party.

For the next couple hours you work diligently in avoiding Hongjoong at all costs, trying your best to make it look natural as you keep your distance. Every few minutes you scan the crowd to make sure he is still on the opposite side of the room and try not to stare long enough that he will feel your gaze burning a hole into the back of his head. Honestly, you can’t even focus on half of the conversations you have because you are so actively wrapped up in this game of cat and mouse that Hongjoong doesn’t even know he’s participating in. Your methods ultimately work out, however, since you are able to avoid him late into the night.

By the time things start slowing down and most of the guests are relaxing out by the fire, your head is pounding with how exhausted you are, your energy having been sucked out by both the taxing journey to get home and the anxiety-fueled nightmare that has been this party. Needing some time to just decompress and not be the center of attention, you wait until the living room is empty to snatch a bottle of expensive red wine and tiptoe up the stairs to your room, praying nobody sees you escaping your own celebration.

As you have done many times before, you yank open your dormer window that overlooks the front yard and slip out onto the roof with your drink in hand. Long ago, you spent many wistful nights in this exact spot, staring up at the stars when you needed to just be alone and think. Something about sitting here under the vast night sky always made your problems seem much smaller as you paled in comparison to the infinity of space before you, but that same sense of comfort doesn’t come as easily tonight.

You lean back against the rough shingles of the rooftop and take a few heavy gulps out of the wine bottle, hissing at the taste since you’ve never really been a fan of reds. It’ll do the trick, though, and you’re not really in the mood to be picky. A heavy exhale escapes you and you close your eyes, the sound of chatter spilling out into the night air from the guests mingling on the other side of the house. Your thoughts immediately drift where you wish they wouldn’t as Hongjoong’s appearance permeates your mind.

As if right on cue, the sound of light knocking against your window sill causes you to gasp and look over in surprise.

“Hey,” Hongjoong casually calls with his body stuck halfway out the window already. “Figured I’d find you up here. Mind if I join?”

You hope that your nervousness doesn’t show on your face and he can’t hear your heart as it now thumps dangerously against your chest. Still, you scooch over to make room for him.

“Sure.” He climbs onto the rooftop and takes a seat next to you, the proximity of his body making you hyper aware of your every movement. “Want some?”

You offer him the bottle of wine, to which he chuckles but graciously accepts, taking a prolonged drink before frowning at the taste just like you did. You can’t help but laugh lightly at his reaction, some of the nerves dissipating just marginally.

“I guess we’re still not quite proper adults just yet, huh? When wine still tastes this bad,” he jokes as he hands the drink back over.

“If that’s what defines adulthood, then I guess not.”

The moment of jest fades away as you both gaze up at the sky and a thick silence settles between you. This must be the first time you’re next to Hongjoong and yet you can’t find anything to say, but, thankfully, he breaks the deafening sound of six years spent apart.

“Sorry about my mom back there. She’s, you know… her,” he apologizes stiffly without bringing himself to look over at you.

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t have expected anything else from her. It’s actually kind of comforting to come back and find that almost everyone is still the same as before.” You pray he doesn’t ask you to elaborate on the ‘almost’ since it exclusively applies to him.

“Yeah, things around here don’t change as quickly as in the city, I suppose.” He lets out a steady breath and you gulp down some more of the wine. “How is it out there? Everything you ever dreamed of?”

You can’t exactly tell the emotion behind his words and you consider just how honest you should be. Is he just asking out of pleasantries? Are you still close enough that you can start airing your grievances about city life? Even if you are, do you really want to put those thoughts out into the world in such a way that makes them significantly more real than when they just live in your mind?

“It’s fine. You know, different,” you answer vaguely, shrugging off his inquiry. He finally turns to face you.

“It’s fine?” he questions. “What does that actually mean? Because it doesn’t mean fine.”

Goddamn this man and how well he can read you even after so long. His tone and demeanor, though, feel so familiar and warm that you can’t resist wanting to open up to him as if no time has passed at all. Sitting together like this, he somehow still feels like your safe space even though tonight has been painfully awkward up to this point. Nonetheless, you feel a little strange to immediately start unloading onto him and decide against it.

“It is fine, though,” you answer, but it even sounds like a lie to you this time. “I mean, it’s not the perfect life I imagined, but nothing is perfect.”

He seems to think about your answer momentarily before giving a small nod. “That’s true, I guess. Have you opened up your own cafe yet?”

You bite the inside of your cheek in embarrassment. “No, not yet. Living expenses are really high there so I haven’t been able to save up yet…”

“Oh,” he mumbles at your feeble response. “What do you do for work, then?”

You can tell he is asking out of genuine curiosity, but your face burns in shame. “I work as a barista and a bartender, both part-time. It’s a lot of work, but I haven’t really been able to start a career just yet…”

“Ah…”

You take another swig from the bottle before passing it over to him, pulling your knees closer to your chest as he also drinks. After spending your entire life boasting about how you’ll thrive in the city, admitting all of your unexpected struggles to him has you feeling increasingly disappointed in the outcome of your six years away.

“You do like it there, though, right?” Hongjoong asks earnestly, his gaze shifting to study your face as you contemplate the answer.

Yes. Of course you should say yes… Why are you not saying yes?

As you look into his eyes, the word ‘yes’ doesn’t come as easily as it usually does when you’re asked this question. Just as you felt when you first drove into the city’s limits, you feel like, for the first time in six years, you are truly being forced to consider the reality of your urban life compared to the life you had here. The doubts you’ve had about your move, which you have always so diligently repressed, are finally at the forefront of your mind as you are faced with everything you left behind. And that fact that Hongjoong’s caring eyes continue to bear down heavy on you doesn’t help your effort to ignore the aching in your chest.

You rip your gaze away from him and look back up at night sky, afraid of what spiral you would start heading towards if you shared that moment with him any longer.

“You know, I was really surprised to see you tonight,” you state in an attempt to change the topic.

“Yeah? Why is that?” You are thankful that he also directs his attention back to the constellations as if giving you permission to avoid his earlier question.

“I just assumed you would also end up leaving this place. Move on to bigger and better things. Maybe become a new age artist or something.” He chuckles at your terminology.

“A new age artist, huh? I mean, I guess I could’ve done that, but I never really needed much more outside of what I have here. As long as I have the things that are important to me, I’m perfectly happy.”

You spare a side glance at him to see the beauty of his smile under the pale moonlight. You can’t help the slight jealousy that arises at his simple attitude towards contentment, as if it is almost too easy for him to be pleased with life.

“So you’re just doing perfect then? All sunshine and rainbows?” The slight edge in your voice gives away your saltiness, but he doesn’t bother commenting on it.

“Well, no. There are still things I want and regrets I have, but it’s like you said: nothing is perfect.”

What regrets could he possibly have, though? Hongjoong has always been the type to live exactly as he pleases without worrying about the reactions or judgments of others, so you can’t help but be curious about his statement.

“Regrets? Of all people, I wouldn’t expect that from you.”

He sighs as if thinking deeply over the subject and smiles minutely, though the supposed happiness doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Doesn’t everyone have regrets, though? Things they would do differently if they had the chance?”

He gazes at you once again and, for a moment, his expression almost betrays the intentions behind his cryptic statement. Your heart is suddenly beating at twice its normal rate from the strange tension that thickens the evening’s cool breeze, and you wonder if he can feel it too. The look in his eyes has you falling deeper into his stare until an episode of roaring laughter from the party down below wakes you both from the prolonged moment.

Hongjoong clumsily clears his throat as his eyes flicker here and there, eventually bringing the wine bottle to his lips to take another gulp. Needing something else to focus on besides your body’s heated reaction to the man beside you, you act swiftly to change the subject yet again.

“You know, I told you about myself, but I still don’t know what you’ve been up to. Surely you’re not still working under Barry, are you?”

Hongjoong laughs boisterously from being reminded of his chaotic part time job in high school. Looking for extra cash to spend, he had taken up a few shifts at Barry’s restaurant supposedly just to wash dishes, but he ended up being the cook, server, manager, host, and personal assistant all in one. Every day he would come over after work with a new story about the day’s adventures that got wilder as time went on, but at least he got paid pretty well.

“No, definitely not. I would’ve been worked into an early grave by this point if that were true,” he chuckles, the mood lifting instantly with the sound of his laughter. “If you’re really curious about what I’ve been doing, I could take you tomorrow to show you.”

Your cheeks burn at his offer, but a small “sure” escapes you before you can stop it. He smiles at you in earnest and you match his expression despite the nervousness growing in your chest over what you’ve just agreed to.

“Hongjoong!” you hear his mother call in the distance. “Joongie!”

He exhales begrudgingly and hands you the bottle of red. “I guess that’s my cue. Note to self: next time, don’t carpool with your parents.”

You snicker at his comment, knowing full well that, despite his words, he will likely do it again if they ask him to because he cares about them so much, even if it means being on their schedule.

Hongjoong carefully stands and shuffles his way closer to the open window, stopping when half his body is already inside to peek out and see you once again. “I’ll pick you up around one.”

“I’ll be ready.”

He seems to hesitate before speaking. “I’m really glad I got to see you tonight. I missed you.”

Before you can reply, he has already escaped indoors, off to find his parents so he can escort them home. You let out a deep sigh you weren’t aware you’d been holding, your breath turning instantly to fog that dissipates into the chilly night. Your heart is a hurricane of unclear emotions just from this one conversation. Some of Hongjoong’s words even echo mercilessly in your mind.

Doesn’t everyone have regrets, though? Things they would do differently if they had the chance?

You try your hardest to not imagine exactly what he is referring to or think of the things that you are suddenly feeling regretful over. Having to ponder either has your chest constricting with anxiety and doubt, so you simply lay back against the cold shingles of the rooftop once more and search for images in the bright rural stars that can finally shine freely without the overwhelming light pollution of the city.

In considering your plans with Hongjoong, you think that tomorrow can’t come soon enough, but you also hope it never comes. It is a strange contradiction that leaves you feeling torn between both hope and fear. You aren’t even sure what exactly you are wishing to happen tomorrow, but for now you at least decide to go to bed so the chaos in your mind will cease.

By the time one o’clock rolls around, you’ve spent the entire morning frantically obsessing over what to wear, how to style your hair, and how much makeup to put on. It’s not like there is much fashion guidance for meeting up with your estranged childhood best friend with whom you have an inexplicable deep-seated connection that you’ve always been afraid to approach. Your family simply observed in confusion as you tried on every piece of clothing you brought in your suitcase, had a mini mental breakdown because you should’ve packed something better, and ultimately ended up in the very first outfit you tried on. By the concerned way they’ve been looking at you, they surely believe that the city must have turned you into an absolute nut. Honestly, they might not be wrong.

From where you sit anxiously bouncing your leg on the living room sofa, you can hear Hongjoong’s car crunching down the gravel driveway and force yourself to take a steadying breath before you stand.

“Be cool. It’s just Hongjoong. You got this,” you murmur to yourself in assurance despite your dad being seated just a few feet away.

“You do got this, sweetie,” he teases as you shoot him a playful glare, to which he chuckles amusedly. You’re just thankful he doesn’t ask why you’re freaking out so much about meeting the person you spent your entire youth with. That level of nosiness really is more your mom’s speed, but even she has refrained from questioning your odd behavior today.

Hongjoong is already climbing the few stairs to your front porch when you step outside. He stops and stares for just a split moment, his eyes raking instinctively over your figure in a manner that has you trying to ignore the burning heat in your cheeks.

“Hey. You look nice,” he compliments while flashing his perfect smile in your direction.

“Thanks, you do too.”

It may just sound like pleasantries, but he really does look good in the oversized navy sweater and light denim jeans he is wearing. Him wearing nice clothing is something you aren’t quite used to yet, but you definitely aren’t complaining, even if it does cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“Ready to go?” he asks as you join his side.

“Ready if you are.”

He leads you to the same SUV he’s been driving since high school and kindly opens the passenger door for you, waiting until you are settled to close it gently. You can’t even remember how many nights you spent hanging out in this car just talking or getting high on some relaxed weekends, the two of you often finding a secluded place to park and just chill together. It isn’t a luxury vehicle by any means but Hongjoong had specifically upgraded the sound system long ago just so you could bump the new music you were always playing for him. Even if he wasn’t into the music itself, he adored seeing how excited you’d get when sharing something you love, so the AUX cord effectively came under your ownership despite the fact that he was always the one driving.

“And we’re off,” Hongjoong hums to himself, having climbed in the driver’s seat and started the car during your nostalgic flashbacks.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

“You know where we’re going,” he jokes merrily. “I’m going to show you what I’ve been up to.”

You roll your eyes with a dramatic scoff, knowing he’s pressing your buttons just for fun. “You know what I mean. Do I only get to find out once we get there?”

“Bingo,” he sing-songs. “No spoilers.”

“Oh god, you aren’t going to take me to some murder den, are you?”

He slaps his thigh dramatically as he bursts into laughter, the sound like music to your ears as you settle back into a comfortable rhythm rather quickly.

“Definitely not, but if I were taking you to one, I wouldn’t tell you anyways.”

“Fair point, but be warned. I took two taekwondo lessons in college and can be lethal when I want to,” you mock with a playful chop of the air for emphasis.

“Ah, I will watch out for your amazing white belt skills, then,” he snickers. “You really haven’t changed at all, have you?”

“You don’t think I have?”

Honestly, you had been thinking that you were the only thing to have changed (besides his appearance), but his words do make you think that you have been settling more and more into yourself as you spend time with him.

“No, you’re definitely the same weirdo you’ve always been.”

You lightly slap his arm in retaliation for the name calling, to which he responds in a comically dramatic fashion. As you both continue to joke around, though, his words still linger in the back of your mind. Are you really the same person you were then?

It takes all of five minutes before he is pulling up to the curb near one of the old brick buildings towards the end of main street. It almost looks like a townhome with how it’s sandwiched on both sides by other buildings, a quaint style signature of small towns. Of course you recognize the place, but you’ve only ever been in the storefront at its base, a cute little candle and soap shop run by the couple who lives three doors down from you.

“Ah, so you’re a chandler now?” you ask in confusion as you both exit the car and step onto the uneven stone sidewalk.

Hongjoong laughs under his breath in reply and envelops your hand in his as he leads you to an unmarked entrance. It is positioned to the left of the shop’s windows where one building almost becomes the next, and you likely wouldn’t have paid it any mind if he weren’t pulling you inside of it.

Rather than focusing much on the door, however, your mind is busy trying to comprehend his casual attitude towards holding your hand, as if he wasn’t trying to give you a handshake instead of a hug less than 24 hours ago. But because he treats it normally, you don’t mention it or pull away either, especially not remarking on the fluttering feeling it gives you even as he takes you up a set of creaky and uneven stairs. The dim lighting here also makes you think maybe you were right about the murder den…

As you reach the second floor, Hongjoong lets go of your hand to fish his keys from his pocket, using the only golden one to unlock the first door on your right. Once you both step inside, you are relieved to find that the walls and floors are not covered in plastic and blood. Instead, you find a quaint photography studio equipped with fancy lights, multiple tripods, a plush couch, backdrops ready to be rolled down, and a messy desk in the corner.

“Wow, Joong! This is amazing,” you coo, the nickname naturally slipping out as your eyes continue to wander around the room.

“It’s nothing special. I’ve been renting this space out for a couple years after saving up enough so now I actually have a place for shoots,” he explains humbly. “I also do nature photography that I license out since there are so many pretty landscapes around here.”

“So this is all yours?”

“Yeah. It’s not much, but it makes me happy.”

You glance over at him to see his contented expression as he talks about his work, making you pleased that he has found something meaningful and satisfying to do. At the same time, you can’t help the tinge of jealousy at seeing how much he loves what he does. Every time you even think about having to go to work, you’re instantly put in a bad mood and dreading the moment you have to clock in.

As Hongjoong feels the weight of your stare and his eyes meet yours, you immediately whip your head elsewhere to continue looking around, ignoring the rush of embarrassment flowing through you from being caught. You do your best to pretend you don’t hear his under-the-breath chuckle.

As you scan over his work space, you notice the wall of framed photos and stroll over to admire his work. You recognize all the smiling faces inside the portraits and a grin creeps onto your face at the sight.

“Are these–”

“Everyone in town, yeah. Well, not everyone is up on the wall, but the rest are in my portfolio. When they found out I wanted to pursue photography as a career, they all decided to come get their portraits taken to support me and get me started financially. Sweet, huh?” he remembers fondly as you continue to admire the heart-warming joy on the faces of everyone you know.

“Really sweet.”

Looking at their happy expressions, you feel a mixture of fondness and melancholy pang in your heart. All of these people who have loved and looked after you at some point in your life, facing you now with such elation…

Though you can’t quite explain why, it makes you sad to think of them all continuing to live happily without you while you were gone. It’s not that you want them to have spent the time miserable or anything, but you can’t help feeling like you’ve missed out on a happiness that you had always been a part of.

You think back on the photos that have been taken of you over the last six years and can’t imagine a single one where you are smiling as genuinely as any of the people here. You’ve had to force a smile on your face for long enough that it felt normal, but seeing these portraits puts your thoughts into a different perspective, especially considering their backstory.

“They really did all that for you?” you ask not because you don’t believe it, but because it is difficult to comprehend such a beautiful act of kindness that shows just how much the people of this town care for each other.

“Yeah. The perks of small town living, everyone is basically one giant family.”

“Right. You definitely wouldn’t see something like this in the city…” You wonder if Hongjoong can pick up on the sadness behind your words or the way your face has fallen. He steps up right next to you and looks down in concern, signifying he must have noticed.

“You haven’t made any friends there? I’m sure they would do a similar thing for you,” he coos in an attempt to comfort you, but you just sigh as a frown continues to decorate your face.

“I have a few, but that’s not what I mean. This kind of community. This kind of connection…” You pause as you try to think of what it is you mean to say. “When I’m there, it feels as though I could disappear into thin air and no one would notice. No one would care. I have no place there. Not like you all have a place here.”

The impact of your honest words only hits you as you hear them escape your own mouth. You never fully realized the degree of dissatisfaction you have been living with until this moment in which the truth that you’ve been ignoring has begun clawing its way out of the depths of your mind and into fruition. Somehow speaking these grievances out loud immediately makes them feel exponentially more real.

It doesn’t help that, right above the sofa, there are a few smaller, blurrier pictures hanging that catch your attention. As you step in front of them to get a better look, your heart practically cracks in half at what you find.

“Oh, those are just… some old pictures,” Hongjoong mumbles awkwardly, unsure of how to address this entire situation.

In each of the small frames sits an image of you two, the timing ranging all the way from childhood up until the day you left for college. In each of them, by his side, you look truly happy… and so does he.

You carefully remove one from the wall and sit down on the couch to stare at it. Behind the layer of glass is the same image of you two at graduation that you had been admiring just last night, your face painted in joy as you laugh at Hongjoong. The very same man, though now grown up, takes a seat directly next to you and peeks at the picture as well.

Despite the embarrassment he is feeling from you discovering his little montage of fond memories, his heart is starting to ache at how quickly your mood has sunk since entering the room. He can tell just how much sadness you are carrying, and he can’t help but feel it as if it’s his own. After all, you two have always been so intensely connected that you share each other’s pain just as much as you share your happiness.

Seeing you move to the city, despite always knowing that day would come, was one of the darkest times of his life. But, being the supportive and caring friend (or whatever it is that you two are) that he is, he never once let you know just how badly he wished you would stay. He has always made it a priority to put your happiness and your dreams first because, even though he has never said anything, it has always been you.

Everything in his life has forever centered around you, including his heart– no, especially his heart. He has known that he loves you since before he can ever remember. As kids, he knew that he loved being with you and being friends, but it was only once he got older that he fully realized the depth of his feelings and what “being in love” truly meant. Even as a young teen, he was sure that this was the only word that could describe his affection for you, and he has always been pretty damn sure that you feel the same way too.

At the same time, however, you had already been dreaming of an urban lifestyle for a long while, taking any opportunity you could get to gush about your future endeavors. The question of whether or not to approach your shared feelings plagued him for years, but he knew that crossing that line would possibly keep you from pursuing the new life you’ve always wanted. Hongjoong, sometimes far too mature for his age, refused to be the one thing holding you back from happiness. If you wanted to move to the city and live that glamorous life, then that is what he wanted for you too.

As a result, he resolved to never push the boundaries of your relationship unless you were the one to initiate it. He would only allow himself the pleasure of being with you if that is what you decided that you wanted. That doesn’t mean it didn’t kill him every day to hold back, though.

Seeing you like this, he wants nothing more than to scoop you up in a giant hug, kiss your forehead, and tell you anything and everything that will make you smile again, but maybe that is pushing a bit too far. Instead, he chooses to address your notion of having no place, the idea of you truly believing no one cares upsetting him immensely.

“You know, you have a place here too. Not just ‘us,’” he calmly assuages you, though it just makes your heart ache more.

“Not anymore. I left.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t come back.”

“After spending my whole life talking about how I’m going to make it big in the city? I may not be succeeding in life right now, but to become that big of a failure…”

“It’s not failure,” he interjects with authority, causing you to finally look up at him. “Changing your mind and choosing what makes you happy doesn’t make you a failure. It makes you really brave, actually.”

When you fail to respond, he worries that he may have been too forward and quickly back pedals.

“I’m not saying you have to come back. What you want to do with your life is up to you. It’s just that you don’t seem… happy.”

His words hit you like a truck, as well as the realization that follows.

You don’t seem happy?

No, you aren’t happy.

You aren’t happy that you chose to move to the city. You aren’t happy that you so easily let Hongjoong leave your life. You aren’t happy that you’ve settled for dissatisfaction for the past six years. You aren’t happy that you are now here next to the person who makes you happiest, in the place that makes you happiest, only now realizing that you aren’t fucking happy.

And in this moment, you’re curious as to whether he isn’t happy about it either.

“Joong?”

“Hm?”

Although he doesn’t show it, his heart beats at a mile per minute in anticipation of what could possibly be going on in your mind. Even though he can usually read you like a book, there are times when your formidable silence causes anxiety to course through his veins and occupy his every thought in trying to decipher your emotions.

“When you said you have regrets– things you would do differently… what exactly were you talking about?”

Here it is. The moment you’ve always dreaded would come in which one of you finally addresses the unspoken depths of your relationship– finally makes it known that you’ve both been skirting around this delicate subject all along. You never thought you’d be the one to do it, and yet here you are.

Hongjoong’s mind is a flurry of chaos as he registers exactly what you are alluding to, trying to decide whether or not he should admit the truth that you’ve both left ignored. His mind flashes back to the moment he spotted you yesterday and the rush of emotions that instantly flowed through his body. It was as if the past six years he spent trying to let you go meant nothing as you reappeared in his life like flowers once again blooming after a long, hard winter. Even through his awkwardness and anxiety during that first interaction, he could feel the same familiar comfort that only you could provide, a comfort that makes him feel safe and loved.

Now, sitting here as you watch him expectantly, he can’t bear the thought of letting you go again. Just imagining it has him feeling like someone has reached into his chest and ripped out his beating heart. If you hate the city as much as you appear to, would it really be so bad if he finally allowed you both to explore this thing between you? Would he really be keeping you from anything if it’s a life you’ve already explored and, supposedly, don’t like? Even if you haven’t directly said that you want him, surely you wouldn’t bring this matter up if you didn’t want to hear his honest answer.

Hongjoong looks like a deer in headlights at your question as he contemplates his reply, and you are about to take it all back.

Fuck it, he ultimately thinks to himself, speaking before you can retract your query.

“You,” he states simply, a more confident expression appearing on his face as he has collected himself and realized it is now or never. Your eye contact never breaks and you can hear the sound of your heart pumping against your chest. His hand even rises to cup your blushed cheek, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body.

“The one thing I would do differently… I would go back and be selfish. Let you know that you leaving tore me apart inside. Let you know how I really feel about you– how I’ve always felt about you. I would do everything possible to stay in contact with you, no matter how much it hurt.”

“Joong…”

“I wouldn’t wait until I’ve already lost you to realize just how badly I need you.”

His thumb gently rubs back and forth against your cheek as he speaks more eloquently and sincerely than you’ve ever heard him before. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you refuse to let them spill.

“Joong, you haven’t lost me,” you murmur softly.

His eyes search yours for a split second before he is leaning in–oh god he is leaning in. Your limbs are instantly frozen as your brain struggles to process the dramatic turn of events in the past few minutes, your mind in an absolute state of confusion and chaos as he gets closer. For the first time ever, he presses his lips gently against yours, and it is enough to shock your system awake.

A split second later, you are shooting up from your position on the couch. Hongjoong follows your lead in a panic, his face flushed from the kiss.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–”

“No– It’s not– I just– I just… need to think,” you stammer with difficulty while trying to look at anything but him.

In your moment of fight or flight, you quickly set down the frame you were holding and rush out the door towards the exit. You can hear Hongjoong following you outside and onto the sidewalk. When you continue past his car, and in the direction of your house, he calls after you.

“Y/N! Just let me drive you home!”

“No, it’s okay. I’m going to walk… and think. I need to just think.”

You feel awful leaving him with such an anxious expression on his face, but you turn and keep walking anyway, driven solely by autopilot like some kind of robot programmed to escape emotionally turbulent situations. Of all the things you imagined happening today, this was not something you foresaw: the weight of the world crashing down upon your shoulders as you realize how much you hate the life you’ve made for yourself, only to finally dive headfirst into the feelings you’ve always harbored for Hongjoong just moments after.

It is overwhelming to say the very least.

A few hours later, as the sun is just beginning to set, you pull up to the secluded spot by the lake where Hongjoong’s car is already parked. You two used to hide away here all the time as teenagers, where no one was ever able to find you. Together, you’d discovered the little opening long ago and made it a point to keep it a strict secret, a place where it would only ever be the two of you. Hongjoong has also regularly used the space as a little getaway where he does all his thinking, much like how you stargaze from your rooftop. That is exactly why you knew you would find him here.

After running off earlier in the day, you spent a few hours just trying to process everything you are feeling and what it all means. Your poor parents were once again mystified at your odd behavior as you locked yourself away to think, but you’ve ultimately come to many realizations and conclusions that you should’ve acknowledged years ago. With your thoughts in order, your next priority is to visit your best friend and sort out the whole situation that you’ve created. You’re sure he must be feeling just as unsettled as you were after the events of this afternoon.

As you park next to his SUV, you see Hongjoong’s silhouette seated by the edge of the water. He doesn’t need to turn around and look to know it is you, so he just waits as you approach him, the only sounds being the crunching leaves under your feet and the crickets singing in the distance. You sit to his left where there is room on the small blanket he uses to keep his pants from getting dirty. A cold breeze rustles the trees and you pull your jacket even tighter around your body. The warm hues of the sunset cast his features in subtle hints of pinks and oranges, causing you to momentarily admire his beauty even though the tense air has your chest feeling tight.

“Figured I’d find you here. Mind if I join?” you ask, echoing his words from last night in an attempt to lighten the mood. He glances over and offers you a small smile, but you can clearly see the anxiety still resting in his face.

“Technically, you’ve already joined,” he replies in jest, bumping his shoulder against yours lightly to show that he doesn’t actually mind. You turn your gaze back to the water so it’s easier for you to speak. If you could still see every minute change in his expression, you aren’t sure you’d be able to say what you’ve been pondering for the last few hours.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” your murmur as your fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”

He sighs. “I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn’t have said anything and especially shouldn’t have done anything without your permission–”

“No, Joong, it’s not that.” You can feel his stare burning holes into your skin, but you still can’t bring yourself to look over. His silence prompts you to continue. “It was just a lot for me, all at once. About the city stuff, I just started acknowledging a lot of things that I’d ignored for so long, and it was obviously overwhelming to suddenly realize that you hate the life you’ve chosen. I mean, I’ve spent my whole life working towards and dreaming of the glamor of the city so it kind of feels–and I don’t even know if this makes sense–but it feels like part of my identity. I’ve placed myself on this path and deviating from it felt almost like a betrayal… or a failure.”

“You already know what I think about that,” he mumbles in response to your last statement.

“I know, I know. Objectively I can see that it doesn’t necessarily make me a failure, but it’s hard to not feel that way.” Hongjoong hums in understanding, staying mostly quiet to let you say what you need to. Nonetheless, half of his mind continues to worry about when you’ll address his confession.

“I realized I’ve spent my whole life thinking I would be someone that, in reality, I’m just not. As much as I’d love to be that person who thrives in the fast-paced, achievement-oriented world, that isn’t what actually made me happy. I spent so much time dreaming about a new life that I didn’t even stop to realize that I was already happy here, where people know and care about me.”

You smile up at the glowing pink clouds in the distance, surprisingly at peace with your realizations after spending hours thinking them through (and perhaps freaking out for a number of those hours, but that is beside the point).

“I guess, subconsciously, that’s why I never came back to visit until I was forced to. Maybe some part of me knew I would remember how life used to be filled with so much joy and love, so I just pushed everything away that reminded me of this town. Including you. Which wasn’t fair.”

“Does that mean you’re moving back?” Hongjoong tries not to get his hopes up too much as he asks the question, but he can’t hide the excitement in his voice. You spent a long time considering this question once you came to terms with all your feelings about the last six years, but the answer seems both incredibly simple and incredibly complicated at the same time.

“I think I want to, but what would I do here? I can’t just come back and mooch off my parents.”

Even if your parents would be fine with it, your pride won’t allow you to take that big of a step back after living on your own for so long. Although you are pretty damn sure by now that you want to come home, there are a lot of logistics that you need to take into account.

“You could do the same thing you’ve always dreamed of: open up a little cafe with the best coffee in town. Just do it here instead of there.” Joong forces himself to keep from blabbering on about how he knows the perfect spot just a couple buildings down from his studio, the people you could contact to get it remodeled, where to find some good discounted furniture, and more. No matter how desperately he wants you to come back, he refuses to pressure you into anything.

Opening up shop here isn’t something you’d even thought about since you’d always been so stuck on your vision of a busy backstreet cafe, but starting a business here would actually make a lot of sense. Of course, it would take a lot of work and monetary investment, but considering how the community helped Hongjoong in his photography career, you are sure that they wouldn’t let you fail either. Having that sense of support as a foundation makes the idea seem all the more appealing.

“Do you think I’d be able to do it?” you ask for the last boost of confidence you need to make up your mind.

“As cliche as it sounds, I think you can do anything you set your mind to.” You chuckle at just how cheesy he is. “It wouldn’t be easy, for sure, but you already know that everyone here would do anything they can to help you. And I may not know a ton about business, but I can offer my services as well. I’d do whatever it is you need to make you happy.”

Your cheeks burn at his suave words. Even if he didn’t mean to sound so romantic, his statement has you melting. How could you have ever let him leave your life?

From the fluttering of your heart, you remember that there is one other unresolved issue that you two have yet to discuss.

“Joong?”

The sound of your voice immediately suggests where this conversation is going. Hongjoong feels as though his heart has stopped beating and his breath silently catches in his throat. He had almost forgotten the main reason he was so anxious to talk to you in the first place, but now he can tell what is coming next. The tension in his chest only gets worse once you turn to look at him with earnest eyes.

“What you said earlier…” you start, a blush coming to your face from saying this out loud. “Did you really mean it?”

“Would I joke about something like that?” You know he wouldn’t, but you want to hear him confirm it.

“That’s a cop out. Yes or no,” you push.

“Yes, of course I meant it. Every word.” Hongjoong’s racing heart thumps wildly against his chest despite the cool attitude he is attempting to display.

“Why didn’t you bring it up back then? Before I left?”

“I never wanted to be the person who held you back from your dreams,” he admits, surprising you slightly. You thought maybe he was just too afraid or didn’t want to risk your friendship, but this…

“What do you mean?” He exhales and finally turns his face away from yours, the eye contact becoming too intense for him to maintain while also discussing this topic.

“I was afraid that by bringing up… us, you might not try living the life you’ve always wanted. Telling you how I felt, knowing it would make it hard for you to leave, just felt like a selfish thing to do,” he admits in all honesty. He rubs his hands against his jeans as he continues, too antsy to hold still. “When you asked me that question earlier, I just couldn’t imagine letting you go a second time. I didn’t want to make the same mistake again.”

You can feel your eyes welling with tears from hearing just how much he truly cares for you, enough to put his own happiness aside and whole-heartedly support your dreams even when they didn’t include him.

“So you’ve felt it too?” you ask timidly as you both gaze at each other once again. You’ve always known the answer to this question, but hearing him say it out loud is something entirely different, a tipping point that neither of you will be able to turn back from. You don’t even need to clarify what you’re asking because Hongjoong just knows.

“How could I not?” he scoffs, the answer seeming obvious to him. “But I’ll never pursue anything that you don’t want.”

“Who said I don’t want it?” You aren’t sure where your sudden brazenness comes from. Perhaps you are just surprised he hasn’t stopped to consider just how much you care for him too, even if you made some mistakes along the way.

Hongjoong blinks a few times in confusion. “But earlier, you ran off when I…”

“Joong, it really was just because it was a lot to process all at once. It isn’t because I don’t feel the same way about you.”

Hongjoong feels like his heart has swollen to ten times its normal size as his anxiety over the earlier interaction is quelled. And now to hear you finally confirm your own feelings for him, he thinks he must be on cloud nine.

You gently reach over and take his hand in yours, the sensation familiar except for the (now overtly) romantic context. His warm skin heats your frozen fingertips that have continued to get chillier as the sun has tucked itself away beyond the horizon.

“It has always been you,” you explain softly. “I always knew you were my person– my soulmate– but I was afraid to acknowledge that it was love for a long time. The answer seemed so obvious, but also so uncertain and scary.”

“Do I scare you?” he jokes, flashing his blinding smile in your direction as you laugh and roll your eyes. It is relieving to have the serious tension washed away.

“As if you could scare anyone,” you scoff. “I was afraid of– I don’t know– ruining our friendship, I guess. You never approached it, so I just ignored it too.”

You gaze at your intertwined hands as your thumb strokes his skin softly. “Earlier today, when I was questioning everything I’ve ever wanted, the only thing I never questioned was wanting you.”

“Yeah?”

You give him a timid nod. Hongjoong seems to get even more nervous as he clears his throat and plays with your fingers restlessly. “Now that we both know, what are we going to do about it?”

Compared to earlier, when he boldly laid his heart out in front of you and made the first move, he is now much more shy. You can tell his stomach is erupting with butterflies, just like yours is, and it is honestly adorable. Your eyes flit back up to his face and you see his blushing cheeks under the fading light. He looks so perfect like this and there is only one thing you want to do.

Before you can overthink it, you boldly reach around to the back of his neck and pull him closer to connect his soft lips with yours. After a moment of surprise, he returns the kiss whole-heartedly, his hands resting on the sides of your face as he holds you near. You melt into each other’s embrace, the kiss entirely different from earlier. Instead of being shrouded in uncertainty and confusion, it now feels like you have finally found something that has always been missing. It just feels right.

From the way your lips move in perfect time to the warmth that fills your heart, Hongjoong feels like home in every way possible. All of the worries you’ve dealt with in the past 24 hours, perhaps even the past six years, fade away at the comfort of having him in your arms, where he plans to stay forever.

As you get lost in the sensation, your kisses get more desperate and heated. Hongjoong has no problem matching your pace, though, when he has already waited over 24 long years for this moment. Your hands get a little excited in roaming his body, feeling down the expanse of his broad shoulders and toned chest. You never allowed yourself to fantasize about being this physical with him, but now it’s as if the floodgates have opened and you want nothing more than to be all over him.

When your hand just barely slips under the hem of his sweater and makes contact with his skin, he gasps at the chill of your fingertips and separates your lips. His hands are still pressed against your cheeks as he caresses your skin. You simply peer into each other’s eyes, a hungry look enough for you both to understand what’s going to happen.

With a playful giggle, you shoot up from your spot on the ground and start jogging towards his car. Halfway there, you glance back to find him still seated.

“Are you coming or not, slow poke?” you call out, breaking him of his daze. It takes only seconds for him to bolt up and over to you, grabbing your hand and tugging you along the rest of the way with a giddy smile on his face.

“Hold on,” he commands as he jets from one side of the car to the other, rapidly folding down the backseats of his SUV to create one big, flat area in the back of his car. Your body tingles with excitement at the sight. He has already climbed inside when he reaches his hand out to you. “Are you coming or not, slow poke?”

You roll your eyes at his cheekiness and follow his lead, albeit a bit ungracefully. Within moments, you two are all over each other once again, hands roaming freely as he guides you to lay back against the floor of the vehicle. It is by no means comfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to be bothered by the stiff surface, not when all of your senses are being entirely consumed by Hongjoong and the heat radiating from his body.

He hovers over your form, one hand keeping his weight from crushing you while the other follows the curve of your torso down to your waist, where his fingers dig into your flesh needily. Feeling desperate, he grinds his hips against yours, eliciting a moan from both your mouths at the pleasurable friction. Only when your hands grip at the hem of his sweater and start to pull it off does he break the kiss and grab your wrist to keep you still for a moment. He gazes down at you softly and you wonder why he stopped.

“Are you sure you want to move this fast? You don’t usually sleep with guys so quickly, or at least you didn’t before. And it’s me, so I don’t know if that changes things…” he babbles somewhat awkwardly, wanting to make sure you have thought this through.

You grin at his concern and press a quick peck to his cheek. “Joong, it’s because it’s you that I want to move this fast.”

He blushes beet red as the corners of his lips perk up.

“Are you okay with this?” you ask, not wanting to pressure him into anything.

He simply scoffs. “Is that even a question?”

With that, he is sitting up and pulling his top off in one fluid motion. You’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times in your life, but this is different. Not only has his body become more toned and mature, just the thought of this sight being all yours from now on has your pussy aching for attention. You can’t help but reach out to run your fingers down his abdomen, admiring the goosebumps that raise on his skin from your featherlike touch. Your hand settles on his belt buckle and you give it a good tug, pulling him back down to press your lips against his.

“Fuck, that was hot,” he pants through hungry kisses.

His nimble hands make quick work of your jacket and shirt, only breaking away from you when he has to. As he goes to unclasp your bra, you fumble with his belt buckle, reaching into his pants to palm him over his boxers as soon as you get it open. He groans at the sensation, his cock already hard in its confines.

“Excited?” you tease as he removes your bra entirely, leaving your top bare. He smirks haughtily as he tweaks your pebbled nipples and evokes a small gasp from you.

“You act as if I won’t find you already soaking wet for me when I slip these jeans off,” he purrs before bringing his lips down to suck on one of your breasts.

Hearing such filthy words coming from his mouth for the first time has you reeling and a moan unknowingly escapes you. He glances up with a look that clearly reads “that’s what I thought.”

God you never knew he could look this hot. From the lecherous glint in his eyes to the controlled dominance in his tone, everything about this man is driving you absolutely crazy. Still, his challenging statement has you wanting to provoke him just a bit more.

“You think I’m that easy, Joong?”

He chuckles at your instigation while he now focuses on swiftly stripping your bottom half.

“Not easy,” he coos as you lift your hips so he can remove your jeans and underwear. “Just horny.”

Your heart races as he gently spreads your legs apart and gazes down at your needy sex. He bites his lip at the sight and curses under his breath. A mixture of excitement and embarrassment settles in your gut from being so exposed. Here you are, laid out bare for your best friend–now more– to feast his eyes upon. It is almost too much to handle, your heart fluttering wildly at the scene playing out before you.

Hongjoong wastes no time in lowering himself onto his stomach so that his face hovers just inches from where you crave him most.

“You’re even prettier than I imagined.”

He wants nothing more than to dive right into you and never again be separated from your perfect pussy. Needing to prove a point, however, he runs his middle finger up the length of your slit, smirking as he sees it glisten in the dim moonlight.

“Who’s the excited one now?” he taunts, usurping the upper hand in this battle of wills.

Before you can quip back at him, he is licking a flat stripe along your cunt, his tongue stopping as it meets your clit to suck it past his soft lips. You moan erotically from the sensation and your back arches, only to be pushed back down by Hongjoong’s firm hands. He begins lapping at your sensitive bud, causing you to reach down and grip at his locks. The sting in his scalp only spurs him on.

“So good,” you whimper pathetically, all thoughts of denying just how badly you want him now gone out the window. When his tongue flicks against you just right, you gasp. “Fuck, why are you so good at this?”

He just smirks against you and glances up to meet your eyes with a puppy dog look that would scream pure innocence if it weren’t for the fact that half his face is obscured by your needy pussy, which he devours like a man starved for a thousand years. Your praise, combined with the euphoria painted on your face, has him dying to please you even more, so he brings his hand down to your hole and easily slips his middle finger inside. He curls it up to rub along that certain spot inside you and your toes instantly curl in pleasure.

Small droplets of water run down the car’s windows from how foggy it has become, neither of you having to worry about the cold outside since you’ve practically turned Hongjoong’s vehicle into a sauna through your body heat. In fact, it is almost too warm for comfort, beads of sweat forming at your brow, but neither of you pay it any mind.

“More, please,” you mewl feebly.

Like the gentleman he is, Hongjoong obliges by adding another finger along with his first and dragging them languidly against your walls. His tongue never lets up its movement, switching between sucking and lapping at your clit as you grip his hair hard enough to keep from floating off to heaven. As you moan his name, his fingers pick up their pace and you can feel the knot in your core tightening. Your soaking pussy makes a lewd squelching sound as he continues and you immediately feel embarrassed, but the way that Hongjoong groans so obscenely in response to the noise clues you in to how much he likes it, thus washing away your trepidation. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you can’t help but buck your hips against his face, especially when you notice him grinding against the floor of the car in an attempt to alleviate some of his own neediness.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he slurs as he hears your shameless whimpers and feels you clenching harder around his digits.

As tempting as it is, you don’t want to cum just yet, so you use your hold on his hair to pull him off of your sex. His fingers automatically stop as well as he looks up at you in confusion.

“You okay?” The worry is palpable in his voice and you can tell he thinks he’s done something wrong.

“I’m fine, Joong. I just want to cum with you in me,” you explain, your brain fogging at the vulgar sight of his glistening lips and chin.

“Fuck you’re killing me.” Your filthy request, and your obvious desperation for his body, has him melting like putty in your hands.

He pulls his fingers from your hole and makes a show of licking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours as you watch with bated breath. As he releases his digits with a pop, you can’t take it anymore. You spring up from the floor, kissing him passionately as you guide him to lay down on his back. Your diligent hands take no time in removing the rest of his clothing, his cock springing free as you slip off his bottoms.

“Holy shit,” you curse emphatically as you take in his impressive size. “You’ve been walking around with that thing between your legs this whole time?”

“Well it’s not like I got it installed last week,” he chuckles as he strokes his length casually. You don’t even bother acknowledging his joke. You are simply too desperate to have him inside you to waste any more time on fun and games.

You swing your leg over to straddle Joong, grabbing the base of his dick to help position it at your hole. As you look down at him, he nods minutely, as if approving of this final line that you two are crossing. In response, you start to slowly sink down on his cock, your pussy wet enough to make the process easier despite his overwhelming size.

“Oh my god,” you gasp with your mouth agape as you fit him entirely inside. You’ve never felt more full, and you can tell Hongjoong feels just as good by the elongated moan that he lets out. “You’re so fucking big.”

“And you’re so fucking tight.”

He lets you take a minute to adjust as you feel your walls flutter spastically to accommodate him. His hands rest on your hips, rubbing small circles into your skin as he bites his lip and waits for you to take the lead. Only when you start to move on your own does he assist you in grinding down on his length. A stuttered groan escapes him and your head falls back as you bask in the feeling of his dick pressing into all the right places.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this,” he purrs as the car rocks with your movement.

The thought of him having fantasized of this scene before has your core clenching. You wonder how many nights he stayed up imagining you underneath him, filling you up perfectly and pleasing you just as you deserve. Your (previously) seemingly innocent best friend must have touched himself a thousand times to the thought of your desperate moans begging for more as he stretches out your tight cunt, only to then face you each day as if he didn’t spend each evening with you running around his mind while his hand was down his pants.

“Did your dreams feel as good as this?”

“Nothing feels as good as this.”

He playfully smacks your ass and, in an effort to satisfy him even more, you switch to bouncing on his thick cock. The car squeaks in protest with each meeting of your hips, but the breathtaking pleasure is immediate. Joong, who consistently lets out unabashed moans, intertwines your fingers with his so that he can support your movements. Using your held hands as leverage, you increase your speed and intensity.

Hongjoong watches you with his bottom lip between his teeth as you get lost in the pleasure and pathetic whines fall from your mouth. He becomes transfixed by the way your tits bounce so pornographically in time with how you fuck yourself on his dick, your soft flesh looking so deliciously pliant from this angle. As his hands move back to your hips to urge you on, he even admires the small divots in your skin created by his fingers. Everything about you just seems so incomprehensibly perfect at this moment.

Eventually, your pace starts to falter as your thighs burn with exhaustion and Hongjoong takes that as his cue. You yelp in surprise as he uses his strength to swing you to the side and onto your back, once again positioning himself above you. Your hands rest on his shoulders as he pauses for a moment to just marvel at your beauty.

“I can’t believe this is finally happening,” he admits shyly despite the fact that his cock is still plunged deep in your pussy.

“How can I make you believe it?” You peck along his jawline before meeting his lips for a much slower, more romantic kiss.

“Cum for me.”

He once again begins lazily pumping his dick in and out of your cunt, your nails digging into his shoulders from the feeling.

“Harder, please,” you fuss impatiently.

Hongjoong smiles to himself at how adorable he finds you when you pout, but quickly submits to your request by beginning to pound roughly into you. Even though you asked for it, the force behind the snapping of his hips takes you by surprise, causing you to let out a gasp that turns into a high-pitched moan. He sucks a hickey into the sensitive spot on your neck as you wrap your legs around his waist and listen to the sound of his pleased groans.

The knot in your core is again tightening from his unrelenting assault on your pussy and Joong can feel you clenching desperately around his cock. He sits back on his knees and uses his hands to push your legs up against your chest, effectively folding you in half, before continuing his absolutely brutal pace. From this angle, he perfectly hits your g-spot with every thrust. Spots dance in your vision from the mind-boggling pleasure and you can tell that your climax is just moments away.

“Hold your legs, baby,” Hongjoong commands as he also senses your impending orgasm.

Though your limbs feel like jelly, you somehow manage to grip the backs of your knees, keeping yourself in place as Joong lets one hand go to rub furious circles against your clit. Your toes curl as your muscles tense instinctively, your body sent into overdrive by his expertise.

“Holy– fuck– Joong–” you pant through forceful thrusts.

“Let go, baby,” he purrs. “Cum.”

His indecent demand is the last straw that sends you over the edge, your legs shaking as your high washes over your body. Your mind goes completely blank and his name falls from your lips like a mantra as the euphoria seems to last for hours.

Hongjoong can barely keep pumping into you with how tightly you constrict around him. His own orgasm isn’t far off, and after a few more thrusts into your fluttering hole, he is pulling out and spilling his seed over your stomach with a moan.

As you both start to come down from the bliss of your climaxes, you slowly let your aching legs back down and Joong lays down next to you. Both of you fight to catch your breath and slow your racing hearts. Eventually, Hongjoong grabs one of his socks from where it was strewn earlier and uses it to clean his cum off your skin. You giggle at sight and rest your head against his chest the moment he is done.

“That was–”

“Amazing,” he finishes, to which you agree.

“And to think that 24 hours ago you were trying to shake my hand when we met again like some kind of diplomat.” He chuckles at the memory and his cheeks redden even more than they already have.

“Leave me alone,” he gripes childishly, though his tone clearly indicates that he isn’t genuinely upset about it. “I didn’t know what to do and I panicked.”

You laugh at his embarrassment, the joy of teasing him truly never getting old. “I just can’t believe how fast this happened.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “How fast? Baby, this didn’t take 24 hours to happen, this took 24 years.”

He has a point, but a different part of his statement occupies your attention.

“Call me that again.”

“What? Baby?”

“Mm hmm.”

He grins mischievously to himself. “You like that, baby?”

You nod and timidly burrow further into his chest as he snickers and pets your hair lovingly. You wish you could just stay like this forever, frozen in time with his arms around you and your skin pressed flush against his.

“You know we’re going to be the talk of the town now, right?” he sighs.

“I don’t know. We might be beat out by the possible library haunting. Sounded pretty serious if you ask me.” His chest vibrates as he laughs, the sound like music to your ears.

A comfortable silence settles between you, a stark contrast to the awkward tension that clouded your interaction just yesterday. Although it technically took 24 years in total to get together, the process of falling back into Hongjoong after being away was undoubtedly rapid and passionate. It seems wild how much your life has changed for the better and how much happier you already are after spending so little time here. And, even though things in your life are more unsettled and unsure than ever before, you somehow feel the most at peace and comforted that you ever have, but apparently that is what coming home will do to you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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