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rafescvntyclubgf · 5 months ago

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⭐ Republished ⭐

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

𝟿.𝟼𝙺 𝚃𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝

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+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

📖 Rafe is your boyfriend… You just don’t know it yet.

⚠️ warnings contain spoliers ⚠️

swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral, violence, threats, blackmail, fighting, blood, gore, mentions of sextortion, Rafe sneaks into the reader’s room, panty stealing, panty sniffing, takes pictures of the reader’s private images, cum tasting, oral male receiving, oral female receiving, twist dark reader, mutual obsession, rough oral, gagging, kissing, reader doesn’t ask rafe if he wants to go further than oral but he does and she starts anyway, messy sex, squirting, praise, drinking, smoking, mentions of drug use

✨ “Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched. ✨

Rafe’s POV:

“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze.

Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck.

“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.”

I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.”

“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”

“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”

“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own.

“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.

“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt.

“I agree.”

“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She’s not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it?

She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.

“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets.

Who’s that?

Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again.

“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips.

Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.

Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that.

My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can’t wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I’m gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I’m torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She’s a Phi Mu girl.”

“No shit?”

“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she’s mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words.

“All semester, and you haven’t made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done.

“Long game,” he defends himself.

“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”

“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn’t even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don’t even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I’m gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.”

Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less.

“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I’m not fuckin’ around. She’s mine.”

My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I’m bigger. He can fight, but he’s not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn’t care less. And he knows it.

He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch.

“Mine.”

I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display.

I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock.

Where are you going, pretty girl?

She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.

She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me.

I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill.

I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that.

“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm.

“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile.

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”

“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.

“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-”

“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor.

My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh.

“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.

“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.

“Thank you. Oh, umm, you’re a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo.

“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”

“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”

“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.

“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”

I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat’s money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”

“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect.

“I try… But, if we get busted, I’ll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.”

She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook.

Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl’s eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.

“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”

“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.

“No problem, y/n.”

Gifts… That’s what my girl likes.

Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys.

I’ll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself.

I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I’ve never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.

The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. “I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”

“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm.

“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.

I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips.

He’s fucking dead.

I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her.

My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits.

She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath.

Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.

Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state.

“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched.

I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body.

She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy…

Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight.

“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.

I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand.

‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”

‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum.

I’ll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.

My perfect cumslut.

I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I’ll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.

No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway.

My dirty little whore.

I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all.

She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?”

She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again.

“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile.

“Just got done with a workout?” She asks.

“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet.

“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200.

“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again.

“Positive,” I assure.

“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.

I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.

“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I’ll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.

Baby girl…

Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don’t think I can take this.

“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod.

“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”

I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.

Next stop, Phi Mu.

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 2

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himbodruid · 1 month ago

Text

Silent Poem

Zayne returns home to find you fast asleep in his bed. You help each other…relax. 😏

An expansion of Zayne’s Silent Poem Secret Times (some lines removed because try as i might, i couldnt make them fit)

Zayne x Reader

-:- massage leads to other things -:- clothed sex lol -:- body worship Zayne -:- sweet talkin mofo -:-

Fic Master List

INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI

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

It was supposed to be a night filled with laughter over dinner, but dusk gave way to twilight in what felt like a handful of seconds. Doctor Zayne had called with his apologies, stating that an emergency surgery had come up and he would be home late. Dinner was packed away to be saved for another time, and you curled up on his sofa with the silly games you thoroughly enjoyed on your phone. You understood how it was. After all, you had to do the same to him several times as well. It didn’t bother you one bit- you would just wait until he got home, embrace him, and usher him off to bed for much-needed rest.

It wasn’t long before you started to nod off and you checked the time, noting that it was nearing midnight. There was no telling when Zayne would be home, but the two of you had shared a bed for some time now. You knew he wouldn’t mind if you slipped between the sheets to take a quick nap before he got home.

You changed into your long night shirt and were lost to the waking world when Zayne snuck into the room. He took light steps until he was at the bedside, peering down at you with softness in his gaze. The glass of water he held was placed quietly on the bedside table and he sat at the edge of the bed. He marveled at your beauty, wondering how he could have ever been so lucky to have someone like you in his life. Lost to these thoughts, he leaned forward and kissed you. Just a gentle brush of his lips against yours while you slept.

You inhaled sharply, startled awake by the unexpected contact. When you opened your eyes, you saw Zayne’s smiling face in the dimmed lamp light and relaxed back into the pillows.

“My apologies. Did I wake you up?”

You smiled lazily at him. “Yeah, but it’s okay. Are you just getting in? It’s so late!”

“Yes. It’s been hectic at the hospital as of late. Every night I had to return home in the middle of the night…you were sleeping so peacefully. I couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.”

He leaned over to kiss you softly again, and you chased his lips until you were sitting up in the bed. Worry raced through you when he pulled away and slumped against your shoulder, closing his eyes with a sigh. You observed his face more closely and noticed exhaustion and tension bracketing his mouth and eyes. His arm lazily circled your waist, and your own came around him to embrace him back.

“Zayne?” You asked softly.

“Let me hold you for a bit. This helps me chase away my exhaustion.”

“You should relax more,” you murmured to him.

“Me?” He called you out with that one simple word and you huffed a laugh.

“Alright, we should relax more.”

“But how exactly…will you help me relax?” He lifted his head from your shoulder and stared at you intently with those eyes that held the depth of a forest. You watched as his gaze drifted to your lips and then back up, and you felt a blush spread across your face. What a strange time for shyness to strike, especially since intimacy was not new between you.

You push him away from you a moment so you could escape the covers. Kneeling over him, you started pushing his jacket off his shoulders and began working at his shirt, all while completely ignoring the intense way he watched your chest waving in front of his face.

Once his shirt was loosened enough, you dug your fingers into the muscle that made up the slope of his neck. You remember him telling you it was called the trapezius at some point, and how it was where he carried all of his stress. The moment your fingers dug into that brick wall of a muscle, he let loose a heavy sigh that was nearing a moan.

“Mmmh…massage. I see…” he grumbled with a smile.

“Yes, what else were you thinking?” You raised your brow, continuing to work at his neck and shoulders.

He cleared his throat a little bit and you took note of the blush that stained his ears. He blinked rapidly and looked away in that endearing way he did when embarrassed.

“Ahem. Never mind.”

His muscles finally started to give way to your ministrations, but your own tensed the more you worked at him. The sounds he made had your heart thundering, and you were acutely aware of how close your body was to his and how you still knelt over his lap- not quite straddling him.

He looked up at you, golden-green eyes hooded by barely concealed desire. “My eyes aren’t as tired as they were before. And my neck and shoulders feel so much better.”

“Good, I’m glad,” you said, smiling down at him. You knew your face and neck were red, and it took all of your effort not to run and hide. Your only saving grace was the blush that dusted his cheeks.

“Just sit on me,” he said, noticing how your legs began to shake from the unsustainable position you were in. “It’ll be easier for you.”

You began to decline, but his hands found your hips and suddenly you were straddling him in full. And you became very well aware of the hard length of him pressing against your core.

He moaned at the contact, a breathy sound that shot to your core. “I feel much better already.”

“Y-yeah?” You stammered. His hips rose to grind against yours.

“It’s more effective than the strongest, most soothing medicine in the world.” He kissed you then, an unhurried kind of probing kiss that drew you in the longer your lips held contact.

But then he pulled away, and you could feel the embarrassment at how easily you got lost in him flush through you again. Still, his arms caged you, keeping you close.

“Your lips are dry. Do you want some water?” He reached over and grabbed the glass from the table, presenting it to you.

“How did you know?” You realized you actually were parched. It was always a point of contention- you always seemed to forget to take care of yourself. “I keep forgetting.”

“You haven’t learned to drink it on your own yet?” You chose to ignore his chuckle by carelessly chugging the glass.

“Don’t rush, it’s spilling out,” he said, right as your overeagerness sent a trail down your neck, chest, and into your shirt between your breasts.

“Oh,” you said dumbly. He took the glass from you and put it back on the table.

“Zayne, help me clean it up, do you have a cloth?”

“All right,” he chuckled, pulling away the hand you were using to dab at it. “I’ll help you clean up.”

And then his mouth found where the water trailed at the hollow of your throat, a searing kiss that sent shivers through you. His mouth and tongue followed the water in a blazing trail on your skin, even tugging down the neck of your shirt to get at as much as he could.

“Z-Zayne,” you breathed, unable- or unwilling- to push him away.

“Is this what you wanted?” His question was murmured against your chest between kisses. You watched as his tongue slipped between your breasts with a hissed inhale, your hips grinding against him. His hands trailed up the backs of your thighs, teasing the hem of your shirt. There was nothing else there to halt his touch, save for your underwear, and he inhaled sharply at the realization.

“I knew it,” he breathed, nipping at your collarbone. “You want to do this to me again.”

And then his lips found yours again, coaxing you open so that his tongue could tangle with yours. His breath mingled with the soft sounds that escaped you. His hands skirted over your curves to lift your shirt over your head in a swift motion you didn’t even have time to react to. This bared you to him almost fully, the only thing covering you now was the soft cotton of the underwear you wore.

“Now you’re just taking advantage,” you chuckled, capturing his lips again. He smiled against your lips.

“What do you mean-” he began, interrupting his sentence with a kiss to your neck.

“I’m taking-“ another kiss, this one to your collarbone.

“Advantage-“ his mouth found your breast now.

“Of the situation?” His teasing words ended with an open mouth kiss to your other breast.

“Aren’t we just helping each other relax,” he questioned softly against your breast. His eyes locked onto yours as he continued kissing, licking, sucking your breasts. With a groan, he lifted you off of him for the length of time it took for the pair of you to fumble with his belt and pants.

When his cock was finally freed, you palmed and stroked him lazily while he gasped and groaned against your chest. But the control he struggled to maintain came close to snapping when you straddled him again, tugged your underwear aside, and slipped the tip of him just inside of you. His hips jerked involuntarily, slamming upwards into you and a whimpered gasp escaped you.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head, unable to put into words that it was quite the opposite. He filled you so well, that you damn near came apart on him with that single thrust. Still, he waited for your body to adjust to him, trembling with the effort.

“It’s been a long time since we last saw each other,” he whispered in your ear. “I missed you.”

Your body shuddered, involuntarily clenching your walls around him. He gasped out a moan, dropping his forehead to your chest while his hips began a slow roll. Your hands gripped at his biceps, fingers digging into him with the same amount of force you used to massage his neck.

“Does this also need to relax?” He said with a sly smile. You couldn’t even muster a response to his teasing. “Of course, I understand you only want to help me feel less fatigued.”

You ended his teasing by lifting from him and easing back down slowly. His breathing came in panting bursts while you rocked your hips against his. You watched his body reacting to yours with pleasured delight, trailing your fingers down his firm chest and into the hills and valleys that made up his abdomen.

“Are you enjoying your massage, Doctor Zayne,” you breathed to him, feeling uncharacteristically bold at the sight of him coming undone beneath you.

“Different muscle groups call for specific massage techniques,” he murmured. “Sometimes…being skillful is what really makes a difference.”

You smiled and resisted rolling your eyes. Still a clinical mind, even while you were impaled on his cock. You set out to make him lose that rational thinking by increasing your pace, taking him deeper and faster. Breathy moans escaped from him and his arms circled your waist to give added leverage as he helped to piston in and out of you.

“I think it’s getting more tense, now,” he murmured, kissing your chest as he nuzzled into you. You knew he was no longer talking about muscles. The lewd sounds of your bodies colliding rose to join the panting moans that permeated the otherwise still air.

“Perhaps…you could add a little more pressure,” he whispered to you before his mouth fell upon your nipples once more. Per his request, you clenched your walls around him as you rode him. With a whining moan, he halted your movements so that he could take over and slam into you from below.

All rational thought was driven from both of you, only this primal need left in its place. You could feel pressure building inside of you as his cock plundered you at an almost punishing speed. Hips collided in a frenzied urge to chase the high of release, breathless moans responding to the pleasure, bodies tensing until finally the pair of you spilled over the edge with cries of ecstasy.

He buried his face against your neck, nuzzling as his body continued to jerk and plunge his cock so impossibly deep inside you. Your cunt pulsed around him, milking him for everything he had to give you. His large hands gripped your hips in a bruising grasp, pushing you so that he remained buried in you to the hilt.

“I wonder,” he panted once his body stopped trembling underneath you. He laid back fully, an arm tucked under his head to prop it up so he could take in the full image of you straddling him, of you impaled on him. “How long were you planning to pull this stunt on me?”

You trailed your hands from his lower abdomen to his chest, leaning your hips forward only so slightly and dropping back down on him. He was still hard inside you, clearly not fully finished with you. “What can I say? I missed you.”

He clenched his eyes closed when you shifted on him, another short moan rising from his chest. “Yes, of course.

“I missed you too.” He punctuated his words by lifting his hips to meet yours.

“Mmmh, how much?” You followed the rocking of his hips, allowing him to pull out slightly before chasing the descent of him to sheath him inside you fully once he settled back against the bed.

He took your hands in his, pulling you so that you laid flat atop him. He captured your lips in a tender kiss, placing his forehead against yours when he pulled away. His hands smoothed up your back, holding you to him.

“Rest in my embrace, just like this,” he murmured to you. His hips lifted again, sinking his cock deep into you again.

“Now-” He kissed your jaw.

“Let me tell you-“ He kissed your neck

“How much I missed you when we couldn’t see each other.” He wrapped his arms around you and began to move.

“Relax,” he murmured to you when you tensed in anticipation. He moved slower now, rolling the two of you so that you were beneath him now. During the transition, he went too deep and you couldn’t help the hiss of pain that you released.

He froze, searching your face for any hint that you wanted to stop. You caressed his flushed cheek, drawing him back down to kiss him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said against your lips. “Does it still hurt?”

“A little, but I'm okay,” you tell him. You move your legs to wrap them around his hips, but he leaves you so that he can quickly shed the rest of his clothing. He rejoined you after removing your underwear, prodding at your entrance but not pushing in. Instead he leaned down to kiss you softly, in hopes to distract you from any pain or discomfort you might still be feeling.

“What about this? Do you feel better now?” His cock breached your slit, but he still wouldn’t fill you in the way you craved and you could feel your patience slipping.

“Or…do you want to change positions?” He stopped the forward tilt of his hips and pulled away to wait for your answer. You grumbled out a sigh, circling your legs around his waist so he couldn’t remove himself.

“Just do it and stop asking questions!”

With that, he settled over you fully, and you reveled in the way the size and weight of him pressed you into the mattress. His mouth captured yours once more and he rolled his hips forward.

The languid pace at which he pressed his hips into yours was almost too much to bear. You wanted to be taken fast, but the feel of him dragging against your walls was only accentuated by how slow he thrust into you. He was all but worshipping your body with his mouth and hands while his hips pressed into yours with every forward lunge.

“So much time has passed now. Don't you want me to say something?” What you wanted was him. To be drowned in him, swept away by the pleasure he elicited with every stroke of his cock. It was almost too much to bear, the sensations surrounding you as he clung to you as fervently as you clung to him. You closed your eyes, listing your chin when his kisses trailed down your throat.

“Tired already? You want to sleep?” His voice was light and teasing but held the hint of a threat in the undertone. You didn’t get a chance to answer before he slammed his hips forward. A pleasured cry escaped you, fingers digging into his flesh.

“We’re not done here. Quitting halfway isn’t something I would do. The night is still young, we have plenty of time to learn from each other,�� he grunted, his hips colliding with yours at a brisk pace now. You whimpered beneath him, allowing him to hook his arms under your knees and practically fold you in half. He slammed his cock into you over and over and you tilted your hips to meet his at every thrust.

“Let me hear your voice,” he sighed, and you obeyed him. Once more, the sounds of pleasure mixed with the sounds of your frenzied coupling. His mouth latched onto the slope of your neck and by the time he was done sucking almost violently at that spot, you knew it was going to leave a gnarly mark. The thought of carrying his mark for weeks drove you even closer to the edge.

“Say my name,” he murmured against your skin, hips snapping forward with forceful thrusts as his climax started to build.

“Z-Zayne,” you whimpered. Your nails dug into his back at the guttural moan he released against your neck.

“Again,” he growled.

“Zayne-” His name came out more like a breath, barely recognizable as a word as his pace turned punishing. He was so impossibly deep inside that you didn’t know where he ended and you began.

“Again,” he groaned, his body trembling with the beginnings of his orgasm. One final, hard, thrust and he was spilling into you with a guttural cry.

“Zayne!” You all but screamed his name as the pulsing twitch of his cock flooding you sent you over the edge with him. You threw your head back into his pillows, body arching into his as your release shot through you.

His hips jerked and shuddered, his whole body trembling like he wasn’t in control. His eyes were clenched closed, his brows drawn down to crease at the center, while he struggled to regain some form of composure. But the intensity of the pleasure didn’t grant him a single reprieve as his body continued to convulse with moaning cries falling from his lips. All you could do was wrap your legs around his waist and lock him to you while he rode out the high with you.

“Fuck,” he whimpered against your neck when his body finally relented control back to his mind. He collapsed on you and the pair of you tried to calm your erratic breathing. Soft kisses rained on your skin and you couldn’t help the giggles that escaped you when his lips brushed sensitive spots.

When you came down from the pleasured high, he carried you bridal style to the bathroom. He started a shower for the both of you, willingly stepping into the blazing hot water you preferred. He cleaned you with a delicate touch, eliciting shivers as his hands glided over your body. And when he knelt before you to lather your legs with soap, his eyes locked onto yours with a mischievous glint in them before his mouth latched onto your cunt. He proceeded to turn you into a babbling mess, bringing you to the brink and driving you over the edge with his skilled tongue.

You wiped the self-satisfied smirk off his face when you knelt in front of him to give him the same kind of attention. He stared at you wide-eyed, blushing profusely, as you palmed him and ran your tongue along the underside of his length. Soft moans and curses escaped him as you worked him with your mouth, until he couldn’t take anymore and spilled against your tongue.

Dawn came and went by the time the pair of you tumbled into bed. You were spooned in his embrace, and the warmth of his body against yours lulled you into sleep. You were grateful that it was your weekend, because you didn’t have the will to leave his bed for even one minute.

Not that he would allow it.

#l&ds zayne #dr zayne #zayne x you #doctor zayne #zayne x reader #zayne smut #lnds zayne #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace #lads fic #lads smut #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace

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ohmy-gojo · 6 days ago

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golden retriever!bf x black cat!gf with gojo and reader ෆ (no curse au)

O1. hes all about parties and youre all about poems

you are not a unsocial person(well maybe a bit shy), you just choose to stay in your own bubble, in your own world. daydreaming about god knows what. one moment you are thinking about your favorite band, next you are plotting about saving bees. you can also be found doodling or reading about your favorite characters during lunch when everyone hangs out with their friends. and you were not sad about it, in fact its the opposite, you genuinely enjoy being alone and spending time with yourself

but your friends (2 friends just fyi) certainly didnt think so. wanting you to 'socialize and let loose'.

thats why you are now in the frat house of gojo satoru.

you have heard about him from your dear friend shoko. that hes studying about marine and is ridiculously tall. another friend she has is called geto suguru, pharmacy student with long hair, also ridiculously tall. when you reached it didnt take much to spot them. both distinctly handsome and crowded by people around them. especially gojo satoru, he looked like he was enjoying all the attention he was receiving (couldnt be you) he then spotted you both

"hey look its sho-!! wait who is there with her??!!"

he came near you so fast as if he teleported, eyes innocently wide "shoko whos this??" he pointed to you just in case as if it was not obvious he was talking about you

shoko rolled her eyes at him, "my friend, dont bother her too much." she didnt elaborate much bc she wanted you to speak yourself

"shokos friend," he blinked. "youre so cute. like a kitty." he poked your cheek

"!!!"

"AHAHA!" he laughed and poked again, looking like he was having the time of his life. "whats your name, shokos friend?"

"y/n.." you said, voice a little muffled because of the poking finger in your cheek

"D'AWW YOURE ADORABLE! hey hey are you a junior?? never seen you before. do you study marine too?? i study marine!! why you ask?? cz i like fishes." he smiled proudly

"no i study.. (subject).."

he squealed. "oh shes so so cute shoko!! can i keep her??"

"what," she deadpanned. "weirdo."

"im definitely keeping her!! we are best friends from now on! right?? oh oh whats your favorite color y/n?? mine is royal blue and i guess sky blues nice too but not more than cobalt blue-" he kept blabbering on and on. you sent a pleading look to shoko only for her to raise her hands in surrender and literally leave

you just sighed and accepted your fate. at least he was cute—who were you kidding he was hella cute. maybe you didnt mind that much..

rest of the party was spent with him babbling animatedly to you and fawning over you every time you said a word

you went home with a new contact on your phone saved as "toru/best friend!!😸💙" who said you were unsocial again?

note: its gonna have parts i promise i will write and not abandon (looks at the geto series i tried to start but failed) 🫶

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you

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roosterforme · 9 months ago

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Covering the Classics Part 9 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: After Anna joins him for dinner, Bob knows he needs to accept that they really are just friends. Even though her kisses are perfection. Even though he's falling in love. But what's going to stop Anna when she realizes Bob's poems are very familiar to her?

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, Bob in gray sweatpants, eventually 18+

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Bob couldn't imagine a world in which he'd go to this much trouble to make the perfect dinner for a woman who he was falling in love with, only to hear her say the words just friends. But apparently it was the world he was living in, because he spent days comparing recipes from both Bradley and Jake, hoping to make something that Anna would find irresistible.

"You should make my lasagna," Jake said for the tenth time at work on Friday morning.

Bradley snorted. "Great idea, as long as you never want to see her again. Make my homemade pasta," he told Bob. "I already gave you the recipe."

Bob just kept nodding and agreeing with whatever they said, hoping they'd eventually be quiet. Anna was coming over tonight, and he still didn't have a solid plan in mind beyond trying to convince her he'd be worth her time. That it was okay to be more than friends.

While the guys argued, Bob got himself ready to get in the air with Phoenix. He must have looked flustered, because she rubbed her thumb gently across the back of his hand when he stood next to her in the hangar. "You seem nervous. Are you still trying to figure out what to make for dinner?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly.

"Oh, Bob. She's not going to care what you make. It could be a grilled cheese sandwich."

"I always burn those," he said with a small smile. "I just feel like this is pointless. I invited her over anyway even though I know she just wants to be friends, but I'm still standing here hoping for more. I shouldn't be doing this, even if we did makeout in her office."

Nat sighed and asked, "Do you want my grandma's recipe for bruschetta chicken? You liked it when you tried it at her house last summer, and it's not that hard to make."

His eyes lit up. "Please."

He'd only have a little bit of time to himself to prepare the meal and cook it before Anna came over, and he listened as Nat called her grandma and asked her to send it over. Before they were even called out of the hangar to start the day, he had a photo of the handwritten recipe in his phone.

"Nat, you're a lifesaver."

"Just save me some of the leftovers."

--------------------------

Friday was going so well for Anna, she almost forgot to be nervous about dinner. She met with the dean to discuss how her classes were going, and he even brought up the word tenure which sent her into a giddy spiral where she treated herself to a candy bar from the vending machine which she couldn't really afford. She carried it out to eat lunch in the quad with her friends along with her regular, uninspired sandwich and ginger ale.

She hadn't mentioned a word about going to Bob's house for dinner, but she was absolutely certain both ladies knew about it. She almost found it comical the way they were trying to get her to say something about it, but Jessica was clearly ready to boil over.

"Hi," Anna greeted, biting into her Snickers bar as she settled on the bench between them. Advanced Calculus casually offered her some carrots and hummus while Jessica's cheeks started to grow a furious shade of pink.

"When were you going to tell us Bob invited you over for dinner tonight?" she exclaimed.

Anna shrugged and said, "I was probably just going to tell you about it on Monday since it's nothing because we are just friends. It's only as exciting as it would be if I went over to your place for dinner."

"That's exciting, too!" Jessica said. "You should absolutely come over for dinner! But you're wrong, because it's not as exciting as Bob cooking dinner for you!"

"Jess. Chill out," came the voice from Anna's other side. "She'll learn soon enough that dinner cooked by one of the Top Gun boys is essentially a marriage proposal on a plate. A very sexy and delicious marriage proposal. You and he will be sleeping together in no time."

Anna chewed up the last bite of her Snickers and shook her head. "You're both wrong. Bob and I are just friends. The dinner means nothing, and we're not going to sleep together."

"Oh, please!" Jessica was back to practically shouting now. "If you think he's actually okay with all the making out, then you've lost your mind. He doesn't want it to be meaningless. He likes you."

Anna looked at her feet. "I know he does. I like him too."

"Then stop stringing him along! I don't understand what the problem is here, Anna."

She sat quietly now, no longer feeling so great as she picked at her sandwich.

"Hey, I know Jess sounds like an excitable terrier, but maybe you need a little tough love," Advanced Calculus said as she dipped a carrot into the hummus. "You can talk to us, you know. You can tell us what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Anna whispered as her mind flooded with thoughts of Kevin and what he might be up to at the moment.

Jess took a deep calming breath before she said, "There's just no good reason to put your dream man in the friend zone. And don't even try to lie and say Bob Floyd isn't perfection."

"He is," Anna whispered. Other than her infatuation with Sky Writing, Bob was the closest thing to a dream come true that she'd ever encountered before. But she did have her reasons, and she was too embarrassed to talk about it out loud. She was certain that Jess already knew her current financial state was in ruins, and it might be nice to have her friends understand where she was coming from, but she didn't want them to pity her. That was the last thing she needed right now. "You know what, I think I'm going to get ready for my next lecture."

She was on her feet and rushing away as her friends called after her, but she didn't stop walking until she reached her office. She was not going to cry over this, and she definitely didn't want to cancel on Bob. The only thing she could do to calm down was look at all of the books on her shelves, letting her gaze glide over the colorful spines. Then she read the note from Bob that was tucked in her copy of Papillon.

Freedom would feel like being so in love, you'd willingly let another person lock you to their side.

-------------------------------

Bob had a fully stocked kitchen filled with a nice set of pots and pans and sharp knives and anything else he could possibly want, but right now, it was like he'd never cooked anything before in his life. Nat's grandmother actually had atrocious handwriting, and he could barely make out the measurements in the photo he had to work with.

"Basil," he muttered to himself, grabbing the leafy greens from the cutting board and wondering why it looked like he was supposed to use three cups of them. "I didn't even buy that much!"

He took a deep breath and walked around his kitchen, trying to clear his head. Anna was going to grab an Uber. She would be arriving in about an hour with wine and dessert. He wanted to feed her the most delicious meal he could muster, but right now he was just looking at the chicken breast on the plate in front of him like he'd never seen food before.

And he just knew Jake and Bradley never had to work this hard for a woman in their lives. Jake could rely mostly on his looks if he wanted to, and Bradley was the luckiest person he knew, reuniting with the love of his life after ten years and getting married approximately a day later. "No," he whispered, "that's not fair to them." He knew he was wrong. He knew both of them worked to get where they ended up, and he shouldn't be putting himself down so much.

He glared at the chicken and picked up a knife. "This is fine. No problem." He had to fudge some of the measurements which made no sense, and he'd suggest to Nat that maybe her grandmother should take an eye exam, but the recipe really wasn't too terribly hard. Soon he had the browned chicken in the oven, and he set to work on the bruschetta topping and started boiling some water for the pasta. He was just adding another tablespoon of balsamic vinegar to the tomatoes and basil when he heard Anna's beautiful laughter.

Bob nearly knocked the bowl to the floor in his haste to get to her. After grabbing a dish towel for his hands, he rushed toward his front door and saw her on his porch. She was wearing a little sundress that he'd seen her in before with her worn out denim jacket over it, and he froze a few feet inside his screen door just so he could look at her. She was juggling a shopping bag and a bottle of wine, and that's when he realized she was talking to Suzanne.

"Oh, no, I'm not in the Navy," she was saying as she tossed her beautiful, red hair over her shoulder. "I'm a professor at San Diego State University. My name's Anna."

She stretched her hand out, and then Bob heard Suzanne's voice. "I'm Suzanne, and that's my cat, Sylvester. I must say, I had no idea Robert got himself a girlfriend. And such a pretty one!"

He desperately wanted to interrupt their conversation before he could hear what Anna's response was going to be, but he just couldn't. She was standing there in the last rays of the setting sun, blushing as she said, "Bob and I are actually just friends. Just good friends."

There was a beat of silence before Suzanne laughed. "Have you seen him? And he's even sweeter than he is handsome!"

Anna was laughing nervously, and Bob's heart was pounding, but he opened the screen door to bail her out anyway. "Hey," he greeted as naturally as he could, and then Anna's apprehensive gaze met his. God, all he wanted to do was drag her inside, push her up against his living room wall and kiss until she realized he wasn't going to hurt her.

"Bob," she whispered, taking a small step in his direction. Her eyes were wide and perceptive, like she could read his every thought on his face. She cleared her throat and said, "I brought wine and some cookies."

Helpless to do much of anything else, he smiled at her. "Dinner's almost ready." Then he leaned further out the door and said, "Hi, Suzanne."

His next door neighbor looked delighted as she glanced between him and Anna. "I was just talking to your charming friend here, Robert. Cooking dinner for someone certainly sounds romantic to me."

Bob was gripping the door frame as he watched Anna's face fill with panic. Then she blurted out, "Why doesn't Suzanne join us?"

-------------------------------

The only thing Anna could think to do was sabotage the dinner she'd been looking forward to all week. She watched Bob's face fall slightly as he realized she invited his next door neighbor to join them for a very platonic dinner. And since Bob was the sweetest man Anna had ever met, he recovered immediately, turned to Suzanne and said, "You're more than welcome."

Ten minutes later, Bob was opening the bottle of cheap wine she'd brought while Anna watched the veins in his hands. He was graceful and lovely, and Suzanne was talking nonstop as he poured three glasses. She had nobody to blame but herself for inviting a third wheel along. The older woman was really more of a safety net. Someone to prevent Anna from kissing Bob. Someone to stop her from falling completely in love with him.

The whole house smelled amazing, and she knew this dinner was supposed to be just for her. She hadn't eaten a real meal like this, other than at the cookout, in months and months. The first bite of chicken, bruschetta and pasta was delicious enough that she moaned softly. Bob watched her take a second bite, and it was incredible. The third bite left her staring at him in wonder.

"You're the best cook in the world," Anna informed him, cutting across Suzanne talking about her cat. She didn't even care if she was being rude, the food was perfect. And it would have somehow been even better if the two of them were alone.

Bob blushed and took a sip of the wine that Anna wished was better than it was. "Thanks. Uh, it was a new recipe. I've never made it before tonight."

Suzanne took a bite and said, "Robert is an excellent cook and a real gentleman. He always makes sure I have groceries, and he picks up a little something for me if he gets dinner on his way home from work."

As Bob's cheeks grew redder, Anna's heart beat faster. "A real gentleman," she echoed, knowing he'd take care of anyone who needed something.

"Yes," Suzanne said. "You don't see many of them around. Never seen many myself."

Neither had Anna, and after she blew her life to bits, she'd probably never see one again. She listened to Bob and Suzanne talk about their favorite game shows, and she cleaned her plate before either of them had finished. All of the toast and sad sandwiches she'd been eating weren't really cutting it, and she knew that. She also didn't want to get another piece of chicken and seem like a mooch.

"Can I get you more?" Bob asked as he stood on the opposite side of the table in his worn jeans and snug white shirt. "There's plenty left."

Anna shook her head, but he reached for her plate anyway. While he was in the kitchen, Suzanne quickly finished eating and downed the rest of her wine. Softly, just for Anna to hear, she said, "He is a very nice man. I hope I see you around here in a less friendly capacity." Then she called out, "Robert? I need to go. I hear Sylvester outside bugging for food. Thanks for dinner, and enjoy your evening."

"Night, Suzanne," he replied, and the older woman bustled off without another word, leaving Anna alone with Bob when he returned with two plates refilled with food. "She's a character."

Anna laughed, but she could tell Bob was hesitant to say too much now. Probably because she'd dashed the mood in the first place. "I'm sorry I suggested she join us," she told him sincerely, shaking her head. "All week long, I'd been looking forward to talking about books with you."

As she poked at her chicken, afraid of what he was going to say, he said, "Once you finish eating, I could show you my books. I don't have as many as you do, but maybe there's something you'd like to borrow in the mix. And then I'll drive you home."

"I can get an Uber," she insisted, taking another bite of the perfectly cooked dinner.

"And I can just as easily drive you."

He was a gentleman. She wasn't going to leave here in an Uber no matter what she said. "Alright."

----------------------------

"You have books in every room!" Anna exclaimed as she walked around his house nibbling on a cookie. The wine she brought was kind of terrible, and so were the grocery store cookies, but Bob didn't mind. She ate two full plates of the dinner he cooked, and now that Suzanne was gone, she seemed more herself.

"I have a system," he insisted as she sat down on his living room floor to inspect a stack of paperbacks.

"I'm not buying it," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Try me. The living room is poetry. The extra bedroom is mysteries. The dining room is true crime."

"What's in your bedroom?" she asked, flipping through a collection by Robert Frost.

Bob wanted to tell her that his bedroom was where he wrote his own poetry. And that they had begun to turn into a collection all about her. "Romance," he said.

She laughed softly, such a pretty sound. "I'm assuming you don't have any Vonnegut? No soul massacring, unhappy endings?"

"None," he promised. "You won't find any of those around here."

She was skimming a page as she muttered, "Good. I've had enough of that anyway." Then she stood and carried the Frost poems to another small pile on his coffee table. She rooted around and pulled out a volume by Walt Whitman before asking, "Could I borrow these two?"

Bob was admiring how perfect she looked in his house when she met his eyes with her pretty brown ones. "Of course," he said, dropping down onto the couch as he finished his own cookie. "Anything you want."

She stood and carried the books over to her purse before sitting down a few feet away from him. "What I want is to help you organize your books for real. Have you ever heard of a bookshelf before?"

"Never," he replied innocently. "What's that?"

She laughed and scooted a little closer. "You know those big, wooden things that were holding all the books when we met at that store in North Park? Remember that day?"

He knew she was just joking around, but as he memorized the pattern of her freckles, he said, "I will never forget that day."

Once again, Anna initiated the kiss, and once again, Bob was helpless to pump the brakes. She leaned in close with her hand on his knee and brushed her lips against his. It was so sweet, he was almost able to ask her to stop. Even though it felt too good, he was nearly able to tell her he couldn't do this. But being tortured was worth it. That was the worst part.

He let her do what she wanted, and her soft hands found their way to his face, knocking his glasses askew on their way into his hair. He wanted to touch her, but he was afraid he'd lose himself in these kisses that meant so much more to him than they did to her. He counted to ten slowly in his mind, savoring every touch and taste, letting Anna settle against his thigh. Then he broke the kiss, leaving her hovering there, surprise on her face.

She pressed her lips together, and turned her face toward his front door. "I'll never forget that day either."

He nodded as her hands fell away from his hair and his face, and he whispered, "Grab the books you want to borrow, and I'll drive you home."

----------------------------

"He's a gentleman," Anna groaned in her bed on the floor of her tiny apartment the following morning. It was Saturday, and she didn't have much she needed to accomplish today which would leave her plenty of time to think about the drive home in Bob's truck and the way he walked her to her door. She didn't kiss him again, but he always seemed to be close enough that she could feel his body heat in the chilly night air. Even now, when she grabbed at some strands of her hair, she swore she could still smell his fresh scent there.

She needed to get out. She grabbed her phone and took the longest walk imaginable. Her legs were burning by the time she stopped in a corner store for something to eat for lunch, but the sandwich was almost as bad as the ones she had been making for herself. Nothing would be as good as what Bob cooked, and he served it up last night like it was no big deal at all.

As Anna started the long walk back to her apartment, she groaned while she blasted her music. She had invited his elderly neighbor to join them for dinner, and then she had kissed him again. She was so embarrassing. She'd never been like this when she was in New Jersey, never doing the most mortifying things over and over.

She didn't go home for a long time. She walked through an enormous park and looked at a fountain while she daydreamed about all of her unfinished manuscripts. When that started to hurt too much, she watched the storm clouds that were rolling in from the coast and thought it might be nice to get soaking wet. Then a few fat raindrops started to hit her face as she realized that she wouldn't be able to replace her phone if it got destroyed.

"Damn it," she muttered, starting to run through the park under the cover of the trees. The sky was quickly getting darker as she tried to stay under awnings and overhangs as much as possible until she reached her apartment building. Her clothing was soaked, but her phone was still in working order when she ran inside, dripping all over the welcome mat in the small entryway.

She desperately wanted to cry, but that wouldn't solve anything, so she took a long shower instead. She washed and braided her hair, and then she painted her nails. When she finally picked up her phone again, she had a new message from Bob.

Bob Floyd: Taking your advice and buying one of those bookshelves? Was that what they were called? Which one do you think is better?

He had attached two screenshots of nice looking shelves from Ikea that she'd never be able to afford at the moment. She smiled as she typed back to him while she heated up a can of soup for dinner.

Yes, they are called bookshelves. Are you sure you know how to use them? I like the navy blue one better.

The flavorless chicken noodle soup went well with Anna's mood as she sat on the floor and watched a show on her phone. Part of her wanted to know what her friends were up to, but she didn't want to have to tell them about last night. She knew Bob and Jess would be going out to play Dungeons & Dragons soon anyway, but she dropped her spoon in the bowl when Bob wrote back again.

Bob Floyd: I think I'll pick it up tomorrow and make it my rainy Sunday project. Feel like helping me build it?

"Oh, Anna. Don't."

-------------------------------

Bob pulled up to Anna's building on Sunday afternoon after stopping to pick up the shelf. It had been pouring rain since last night, and he had to wrap his new furniture box in a tarp to protect it in the bed of his truck. But this would be a great way to spend the afternoon. He could make two cups of tea, and she could help him organize his books. They didn't need to kiss anymore. He would see to it that they didn't. He could handle this whole thing without issue.

He left his truck idling at the curb, and Anna came running outside like she'd been waiting for him. He grabbed his umbrella and met her halfway, shouting, "I was going to walk up and get you!" over the sound of the rain. She joined him under the umbrella, her denim jacket pretty wet as she shrugged.

"The rain's okay. It reminds me of New Jersey."

Once he opened the door and helped her scramble in, he ran around to the other side of the truck. He was barely able to find a dry spot on his shirt so he could wipe off his glasses, and when he yanked the hem up, he could feel Anna's eyes on his body. There was no sense in feeling self conscious about the way he looked now, because nothing else was going to happen. Last night had to be the end of that.

"You ready?" he asked, cranking the key in the ignition when she nodded. His wipers were going full speed as he drove her back to his house for the second visit in one weekend. "Thanks for helping with this. I kind of realized that having everything on one big shelf makes more sense. Especially if I keep borrowing books from you."

Her laugh was soft as she said, "If you don't borrow my books, then nobody will."

"Same goes for mine," he replied easily as he headed toward the beach. "But don't you dare dog ear my pages."

Now she laughed louder. "I read most of Whitman last night before I fell asleep, and there's nary a bent page in sight."

"That's what I like to hear." When he pulled up in front of his house, he handed her the umbrella and his keys. "Go ahead and let yourself in, and I'll unload the box."

She just gaped at him in response and asked, "Don't you need help carrying it?"

"Nah," he replied, popping his door open, "I can get it."

Bob struggled a little bit with the tarp before sliding the massive box closer to the edge of the truck tailgate. Every movement was made slower by the pounding rain in his face, but he managed to tip it into his arms. It was heavy, but not too bad, and his grip on the wet cardboard was good enough for him to get it inside the house. Anna was standing on the porch, holding open his screen door with the umbrella folded up at her feet, and he accidentally brushed against her with his arm as he maneuvered himself through the door.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, her voice a little breathy as she let the screen door close and helped him prop the box against the wall. "This is massive."

"I guess now I can buy more books," he said with his hands on his hips while he dripped all over the place. "I'm going to get changed quickly, and then we can build the shelf and organize it, and then I'll make dinner."

Her eyes lit up. "You'll make dinner again?"

"Yeah. I was going to see if I can attempt a grilled cheese without burning it. I'll be right back." And then he headed upstairs to his bedroom where he had clean undershirts, some sweatpants and all of his favorite books.

---------------------------

Anna was halfway through unboxing and organizing the shelf pieces on the floor when Bob walked back downstairs. She'd removed her denim jacket, and her leggings and tank top were mostly dry, and she'd settled on the floor with the instruction book. "It looks like we'll need a screwdriver or a drill...."

Her sentence tapered off when she looked up at Bob just casually standing there in one of his white shirts and a pair of gray sweatpants and neatly combed, damp hair. The ability to speak escaped her.

"I can grab my toolbox," he told her, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants before disappearing toward the kitchen. She needed to lie down. She stretched out on the floor and stared at the ceiling as rain pelted the window next to her.

"Oh my god," she whispered before biting down on her lip. She wanted him. She liked every damn thing about him, and then he had to look and smell and sound so good on top of it all. The Walt Whitman poems weren't the only thing she had read last night. Sky Writing's words from her favorite poems were also in her mind, and she couldn't shake them. Anna had just rolled into her side, staring at the instructions without actually seeing them, when he walked back in.

"Are you okay?"

"Great," she said, voice raspy. She was in fact not great. She was the opposite of great. When Bob handed her the toolbox and said he was going to make two mugs of tea, she took the time to pull herself together. Sweaty palms glided along her leggings, and she read the instructions through. It seemed simple enough, and she had the hardware in order by the time Bob returned with two steaming mugs.

"Thanks," she whispered as he settled onto the floor next to her. She knew this was how good things would be if she could date Bob. Hot tea and homemade meals and someone around who loved books. "You're really sweet."

He didn't say anything as he sipped his tea, so Anna did the same. It was raining so hard, she couldn't tell if what she heard was thunder or not, but inside Bob's house, everything was warm and cozy. "Let's get started," he finally said, leaning in front of her to set his mug on the windowsill.

They spoke quietly, mostly about the shelf, while she handed him hardware and tools. Anna found herself distracted as she watched his hair dry and lighten in color as they worked together. Every bump of his muscular arm against hers felt intentional, but she couldn't tell for sure, and she was too afraid to ruin this friendship beyond repair. Especially after what her friends had told her at lunch on Friday.

"I need the screwdriver," he said, bumping her gently with his elbow as he held two perpendicular pieces of wood in place.

"I can get it," she replied, finally refocused on the task before her. "I'll screw it in." She tried to reach in front of him, but he was too tall. When he moved his arms a little further apart, she popped up between them so she was standing between his body and the shelf. "I'll only take a second."

She could feel Bob's warm breath against her ear, and all he could think was that she would fit perfectly in his arms if he decided to just drop what he was holding and wrap them around her instead. "Take your time," he murmured, because of course his arms wouldn't get tired in this position. She fumbled the screw. His body was immaculate, and it was all she could think about as he exhaled and tickled her hair.

"I'm trying," she whispered, fumbling the screw again. Finally she had it in place, and Bob released the shelf, but he didn't move away from her.

"Think you can screw the last two in as well? Then we'll be done."

She nodded and decided to go slower, savor this tiny bit of intimacy and pretend he was hers. Then it was done.

"It looks good."

She barely had to turn to look at him over her shoulder. "It's a nice shelf. How do you want to arrange your books?"

He was still standing close as he said, "Poetry on the top? Since it's my favorite?"

"Yeah," she told him with a laugh. "Banish it to the top where nobody but you can reach it."

He cocked his head and leaned in closer. "Are you insulting the poetry or commenting on my height?"

"A bit of both," she replied right away. The living was darker now from the storm and from the time of day, but she could see his smile perfectly.

"Come on, Anna. We both know you love the poetry. You borrowed two volumes the other day."

She only hummed in response before ducking away from him and reaching for a stack of his books. She handed them to him one at a time, commenting on them like she was giving each a bad review. "Oh, this one is too flowery. Too many words and no substance." She handed him another after he shelved the first one. "This author put all their best works at the beginning of the collection. The second half is terrible."

Bob chuckled as she picked up a book that she knew was a favorite of his. "Hey, you better watch what you say about that one."

She waved it in the air, unable to reach the top shelf, and he snatched it out of her hand. "I'm going to be brutally honest," she said softly, and Bob's hand rested on her back almost like a warning. "I loved it."

He smiled and let his fingers trail along her back as he nodded toward the stairs. "Want to help me tackle the mystery books in the extra bedroom?"

"Sure," she told him, leading the way to the steps. "But first, you have to tell me why you like poetry so much."

"What's not to like?" he replied as she started up. "All of the emotions are there. You're allowed to write about any combination of emotions that you're feeling at any given time. And I think that's pretty cool."

Anna's steps slowed a little as she considered his words. "Write?" she asked, turning to look back at him as he made his way up behind her. "Did you say write?"

"Uh. I did. Yeah."

Truly, she loved reading poetry, but she didn't have much of a knack for writing it. She didn't even think she was good enough for PoetsAmongUs. "What's something you've written?"

Bob laughed, and Anna stumbled on the top step as he said, "Just some amateur gibberish like, 'Devotion woven into every breath I take. Love that knows no boundaries, no end.' Nothing amazing."

She gripped the banister to keep herself upright, and then she spun and sat down hard on the top step. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't breathe. She knew those words intimately. She knew the whole fucking poem by heart. She knew everything else he had written as well, because she'd been reading his poetry for years.

"Bob," she croaked, and he rushed toward her, hands gentle on her ankle and leg.

"Are you okay? Did you twist it?"

"Bob," she gasped, reaching for the front of his undershirt and pulling him closer so he was focused on her face. "You're Sky Writing."

--------------------------

BOB IS SKY WRITING, ANNA. What the hell are you going to do now, babe? Please, make good choices. Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd fic #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

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i-cant-sing · 3 months ago

Note

You know it’s kinda a good thing Baldwin and Salauddin didn’t live in the modern day with Tim traveler reader. cause can you imagine those two with cell phones?

Baldwin would be non stop texting. Every minute with new things to say to her. And it’s never paragraphs. No he’s texting single sentences at her.

Salauddin would be the worst to text. Like reader texts him a long paragraph about her feelings and he just comes back with “k.” And if she sends him pictures or anything he takes half the day to respond and even then it’s a dry one word answer.

ACCURATE😭😭😭😭

Cause imagine being in class or at work and your phone's just buzzing nonstop with Baldwin's texts, and you'd think it's because he has an emergency or in danger or something, but it's just him messaging you that he saw two pigeons today and they were cannodling and it reminded him of you, but then he got too jealous of the birds so he threw bread at them to scare them away. And there's a picture of him with the birds cuddling with the the text "aww! Miss u babe!🩷🩷" And then its followed by a video of him throwing bread canon balls at them with him laughing manically in the background and he texts "hurry up and get home before I destroy more animal couples🥰"

And then there's Salauddin and he's the driest texter ever. My brother could not for the life of him, keep the convo going and you could just be telling him the JUICIEST GOSSIP and he'd respond "Ok." And you would think that he just doesn't care about you enough to read your messages but in reality, you could actually quiz him and he'd tell you every detail to the T! He reads into your body language, the way you text, your tone, he studies you obsessively which is why he doesn't need to respond the way normal people do, lest you try to read between the lines and decide you don't like him. He just doesn't wanna give himself away. It's not that he's not good with words, in fact, he's an excellent poet! Salauddin would write the most loving poems for his beloved, but that's something he's saving for a special occasion, like... a wedding anniversary.

I also think that with phones and the technology, Baldwin for sure would keep tabs on you at all times! He's good at hacking, excellent at cyber security and breaching it. Besides, it's just sooo easy to get into your accounts, be just needs to make sure no creep is taking advantage of you.

As for Salauddin, while yes, he could have someone hack into your phone, he prefers to keep you safe by actually having professional bodyguards/assassins that are excellent at hiding in the shadows and being invisible to keep you safe from all the creeps when he's not around to punch them. Even when he takes you out on dates, that fancy restaurant is actually a safehouse of sorts. All the other customers there are hired professionals and their main job is to detect anyone who could target you or him. He has snipers on nearby buildings, ready to take care of anyone who tries to enter the closed off street to the restaurant with suspicious intent.

#yandere baldwin #yandere Salauddin #baldwin #king baldwin iv #baldwin x reader #Salauddin x reader #time traveller au #yandere x reader #yandere x you #male yandere x reader #yandere x

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kayewrite · 4 months ago

Text

Accidentally in Love

Bangchan x reader!!! chan x reader!! word count: 10.1k

genre: fluff and a little bit of angst. strangers to lovers!!

Summary: You were so careless. You always caught accidents!-- but then you met chan-- accidentally, was is still because of your carelessness? then.. you should do it again.

an: i know today was our midterms week but then why i cannot help but to post TT. anyways. please read it <3

What’s an accident?

Well, an accident is when you’re crossing the street, minding your own business, and suddenly a biker flips over because you may have accidentally stepped into the bike lane without noticing. “Sorry!” you call out, but honestly, how do you apologize for something so awkward?

Or maybe an accident is when you try to send a selfie to your best friend to show off your new hair, but you mistype the number and end up sending it to your mom’s boss. Now they have a picture of your duck face saved on their phone, and your mom will never let you live it down.

Oh, and don’t forget that one time you were playing catch, and somehow the ball decided to fly out of your hand in the completely wrong direction and smack someone in the face. “Oops!” isn’t going to make that less embarrassing.

These were all accidents, but honestly, you’ve started to notice a pattern here: you’re a little careless. Scratch that—you’re very careless. So careless, in fact, that even the simplest things seem to go wrong.

And now, thanks to all these accidental mess-ups, you’ve become so self-conscious that you’re a little too shy to even attempt anything without worrying you’ll mess it up.

“Ms. Kim, I swear it was an accident!” you practically begged, standing in front of your English teacher with wide, apologetic eyes. You had no assignment to present because, well… your homework somehow ended up floating in the school fountain. It had looked so promising this morning. Until it went for a swim.

Ms. Kim raised an eyebrow, but after a long sigh, she gave you a sympathetic look. “Alright, I’ll forgive you this time. But try to be more careful.”

“Yes, Ms. Kim! I promise! Thank you, and I’m so sorry again!” You rushed back to your seat, hoping to avoid further embarrassment, but of course, your best friend Chae was waiting with a grin that told you she’d witnessed the entire thing.

“I’m never going to let you live this down, you know,” she teased, leaning over with a wicked smirk.

You rolled your eyes dramatically. “Haha, very funny.”

Chae laughed. “You know, you could’ve just copied my assignment if you’d told me earlier.”

You let out a huff. “It was supposed to be an original poem, Chae. I’m reminding you for the hundredth time!”

“Oh, right.” She waved it off with a laugh, clearly enjoying your misfortune.

The class finally ended, and you and Chae headed to the cafeteria, where the usual chaos of students trying to grab food filled the air. Trays clattered, voices overlapped, and the smell of fried food lingered as you navigated through the bustling crowd. You had your tray of food in hand, carefully balancing it as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

“Please, not today,” you whispered to yourself, praying that for once, nothing would go wrong.

But of course, in classic "you" fashion, the universe wasn’t going to let you off that easily.

Just as you turned a corner, completely zoned out, you collided with someone walking in the opposite direction. BAM. The impact sent your tray flying. You could only watch in horror as your drink splashed all over the guy’s shirt. Food scattered everywhere, some of it landing on his shoes.

“Oh my gosh!” you shrieked, nearly dropping everything else in your hands. Napkins, where are the napkins? You grabbed a bunch from your tray, your hands trembling as you tried to wipe the stain off his uniform. “I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I swear I wasn’t looking! Oh no, look what I did…”

The guy looked down at his soaked shirt, momentarily surprised. His hair had a few strands out of place, but despite the mess, his face softened. He didn’t seem angry at all, which only made you feel worse.

“It’s okay,” he said gently, offering you a small, reassuring smile. His voice was calm, like he was trying to stop a nervous kitten from freaking out. “Really. It was just an accident.”

But you were beyond saving at this point. Your heart was hammering, and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking as you dabbed at his shirt, which now looked worse with the blotchy wet patches.

“No, no! This is my fault. I’m so sorry! I’ll fix it, I promise. I’ll wash it for you! Let me make it right!” Your voice came out in a frantic rush as you looked up at him, your eyes wide and pleading.

The guy chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You don’t have to do that. I have an extra shirt in my locker.”

“But it’s my fault!” you insisted, still dabbing uselessly at his uniform. Your eyes welled up with frustration—how could you be so careless? Again?! This was just like all the other times where accidents seemed to follow you, and this time it wasn’t just a ruined poem or a floating homework assignment. You had ruined someone’s day.

He noticed your teary eyes and sighed, his smile turning a little softer. “Look, I promise, it’s fine. I can handle a little spill.”

But your guilt wouldn’t let you accept that. “No! I—I can’t let it go like this. You don’t understand! I’ll feel terrible all day.” Without waiting for him to protest further, you grabbed his arm and gently tugged him in the direction of the nearest comfort room. “Please, let me fix this.”

His eyes widened in surprise at how determined you were. “Wait, what? Where are we going?”

“To fix your shirt!” you declared, leading him away as if it was a life-or-death mission. You handed him your jacket to cover the stain, holding it up like a shield in front of him. “You can’t walk around like this! It’s—ugh, I feel so bad. What’s your locker number?”

He laughed at how serious you were. “Arts department. But really, this is too much.”

Your head whipped around to look at him. “Arts department? No way! Mine too!” Your eyes widened in realization.

How had you never noticed him before? How could someone like him, with that gentle smile and calm voice, be so… handsome? You couldn’t stop staring at him, and suddenly, you felt even more flustered.

When you reached his locker, he pulled out a clean shirt. “See? I’m all set now. You can go back and eat,” he said, trying to brush it off, but you were having none of it.

“Absolutely not!” you said, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not leaving until I make sure everything is fixed.”

He let out another laugh, shaking his head at your stubbornness. “You’re really not going to let this go, huh?”

“Nope,” you replied firmly, standing your ground. He seemed amused by your persistence, but also a little impressed.

As you walked toward the comfort room, he glanced at you. “You know you left your food behind, right?”

“It’s fine,” you muttered, though your stomach betrayed you by grumbling at that exact moment. You cringed, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

He chuckled, his voice light and teasing. “Sounds like your stomach disagrees.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little despite your guilt. His laughter was contagious, and even though you were still panicking inside, something about his calmness was starting to settle your nerves.

By the time you reached the comfort room, you had relaxed enough to have a normal conversation. “Why are you so calm about this?” you asked as he went inside to change. “If someone did this to me, I’d be freaking out.”

“I’ve had worse accidents happen,” he called from inside, his voice echoing slightly. “This is nothing.”

You paced outside, tapping your foot nervously. Worse accidents? What could possibly be worse than having your entire lunch dumped on you? You shook your head, trying to calm yourself down.

When he finally came out, you froze. Time seemed to slow down as he ran a hand through his wet hair, his clean shirt clinging to his frame. The droplets of water sliding down his neck caught the light, making him look… well, really good. Your heart skipped a beat, and before you knew it, it was racing like it was trying to tell you something you weren’t quite ready to hear.

“See? All fixed,” he said, flashing that same comforting smile.

You nodded, but your thoughts were far from calm. Why is my heart doing this? It was as if everything about this moment was trying to make you notice something you’d never felt before. Something fluttery and confusing, but undeniably there.

You got quiet for a moment, staring up at him, completely lost in thought. His wet hair, the way his shirt clung to him, that easy smile—it was like everything else around you blurred, and for just a second, you forgot where you were.

“Hello? Earth to you?” he teased, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze. “Oh! Uh, right, yes. It’s done,” you mumbled awkwardly, stepping back and fumbling with the sleeves of your jacket. Your face felt like it was on fire, and you wished you could disappear right then and there.

He laughed, a soft, easy sound that made your heart skip a beat again. “You sure? You look a little lost.”

“No, no! I’m totally fine!” you said, waving your hands in front of you. “I can go now.”

Before you could make your great escape, he stepped closer, extending his hand toward you with that same amused smile.

“I’m Chan, by the way,” he said, his hand hanging in the air between you two.

For a moment, you just stared at his outstretched hand, your brain working overtime to process what was happening. Chan. His name is Chan. You reached out slowly, feeling the warmth of his hand as your fingers met his.

Your voice barely came out, still a little shaken from the chaos of the last few minutes. “I—I’m…”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently.

“I’m… just really sorry again,” you blurted out, completely missing the introduction moment, but he only laughed more, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, really sorry,” he joked, his smile growing wider.

You felt your cheeks heat up even more. “No, no! I mean, I’m—” You cleared your throat, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m y/n.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, y/n , it’s nice to meet you too. Even under… interesting circumstances.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the tension starting to lift. “Yeah… sorry about the whole… you know.”

He waved it off like it was nothing. “Trust me, this is one of the more entertaining things that’s happened to me this week.”

You smiled, feeling a little more at ease. He was so easygoing, so calm, and it made the situation feel less like a disaster and more like a… funny mishap. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling the weight of your guilt finally easing up.

But as you looked at him again, standing there, smiling at you like this was the most natural thing in the world, that flutter in your chest returned. Why am I still nervous?

“Hey,” Chan said, breaking your train of thought. “If it makes you feel better, I’m glad we bumped into each other.” He winked playfully, and before you could respond, he added, “I mean, now I know there’s someone who cares enough to make sure my shirt’s spotless.”

You bit your lip, trying not to smile too widely. “Yeah, well… I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

Chan grinned, giving you a quick nod. “I appreciate it. Anyway, I’ll see you around, y/n.”

And just like that, he turned to leave, but something inside you wanted to stop him. You stood there for a moment, watching as he walked away, your mind still reeling from everything that had just happened.

What just happened? You thought as you absently touched your hand where his had been moments ago.

Days passed, and you went back to your usual routine as the good student you were—well, the good student who occasionally made accidents. You submitted your assignments on time, participated in class, and did everything as you should. But no matter how busy you were, there was always a lingering thought in the back of your mind. A name that kept coming back to you: Chan.

After that incident in the cafeteria, you hadn’t seen him again. It was as if he’d vanished into thin air, leaving you with nothing but the memory of his laugh and that smile. You weren’t sure why you kept thinking about him. It wasn’t like anything major had happened, right? Just an accident. And yet…

“Your drawing is really nice,” Jeongin’s voice snapped you back to reality. He leaned over, studying your work on the easel with an approving nod.

You blinked, looking at your painting. It was your class in the arts department, and you’d been lost in thought, working quietly. But now that you looked at what you’d painted, your eyes widened.

It was a man. A man with soft features, standing against a background of delicate flowers. The detail in his face, the way his eyes seemed to hold a quiet kindness… it hit you like a ton of bricks. Chan. You painted Chan.

“What—” you muttered, staring in disbelief. “Did I just…?”

You turned to Jeongin, who was giving you a confused look. “What’s wrong? Did you paint that by accident or something?” he teased, not realizing how spot on he was.

Your face flushed. “I—uh—no, it’s just…”

“Come on, it looks really good,” Jeongin said with a grin. “You should be proud of it.”

You laughed nervously. How did I not realize I was painting him? You thought, staring at the canvas. The flowers around him gave the whole thing an almost dreamlike quality, and the expression on his face was so familiar it made your stomach flip. What is wrong with me?

Before you could process it, the teacher walked around the room, acknowledging everyone’s work. “Alright, class, it’s time for everyone to explain their paintings,” she announced, clapping her hands to gather everyone’s attention.

Oh no. You glanced at your painting again, heart racing. How were you going to explain this?

As each student took their turn, you grew more and more anxious. And when it was finally your turn, you stood in front of the class, staring at the painting as if it might offer you some kind of excuse for what you’d done.

“So,” the teacher prompted, “tell us about your work.”

You swallowed hard, gripping your hands together. “Uh, well… this is a… um…” You stuttered, completely lost for words. What do I say?!

Jeongin, sitting in the back, raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your nervousness.

“I—uh, I painted a man,” you started lamely, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. “With, um… flowers.” Great. Very insightful.

The class waited, but you had no idea how to continue. “The flowers are, um… a representation of…” Oh no, why did I paint flowers? You stared at them, desperately trying to come up with something meaningful to say.

“…of how fragile and… fleeting moments can be?” you mumbled, hoping it sounded deep. You heard a few murmurs of approval from your classmates, and you exhaled in relief. Okay, not bad so far.

“And the man?” the teacher asked, her head tilted as she studied your work.

You froze. The man. Oh no.

“I, uh, I didn’t really plan on… painting him. He just… kind of happened?” You winced at your own explanation. The teacher raised an eyebrow, but thankfully, she didn’t press further.

“Well,” she said after a pause, “it’s beautifully done. Accidental or not, you’ve captured a lot of emotion here.”

You nodded stiffly, trying to suppress the rising panic inside you. Emotion? I didn’t even realize I was painting Chan!

As you sat back down, Jeongin leaned over with a smirk. “So… did the flowers represent how ‘fleeting’ your accidental crush is?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I don’t have a crush!”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” he said with a knowing grin. “You keep telling yourself that.”

One day, as you were walking down the hallway, your arms full of books and your mind racing, you couldn’t stop mumbling to yourself. The upcoming oral examination was consuming your thoughts, and you found yourself counting the names of famous artists on your fingers, trying to memorize them.

“Okay, Picasso… Monet… Van Gogh… oh, and Da Vinci…” you muttered, completely focused on your mental checklist.

Just as you rounded a corner, you collided with someone. Your books flew out of your hands, scattering across the floor with a loud thud. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, dropping to your knees to gather your belongings.

“Hey, it’s fine!” a familiar voice replied. You glanced up, and your heart skipped a beat. It was Chan.

“We meet again,” he said, a playful smile lighting up his face as he helped you collect your scattered books.

“Wow, what are the odds?” you replied, still a bit in shock. “It seems we have a knack for bumping into each other… literally.” You couldn’t help but laugh, a bit embarrassed by the situation.

He chuckled, his laughter warm and inviting. “Yeah, at this rate, we might as well call it fate,” he joked, handing you the last of your books.

You stood up, brushing off your pants and trying to regain your composure. “This time, I was so focused on artists that I completely forgot to look where I was going,” you admitted, a sheepish grin on your face. “What about you? Are you just wandering the hallways, waiting for your next accidental encounter?”

Chan raised an eyebrow, pretending to think. “Maybe I’m just here to collect the most interesting stories,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes. “And you, my friend, seem to be a goldmine.”

You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a playful banter sparking between you. “Well, if that’s the case, I should probably start charging you for my accidental stories,” you shot back, enjoying the lightness of the moment.

“I’m all for it,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning slightly against the wall, making himself comfortable. “So, what else do you have planned for today, besides running into me?”

You hesitated, your nerves creeping back as you remembered your oral exam. “Just… trying to survive this exam,” you admitted, biting your lip. “I have to present on famous artists, and I keep mixing up their names.”

Chan’s expression softened, and he nodded in understanding. “You’ll be great, I’m sure. If you want, I can help you practice later. I mean, I have some free time in the arts department.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Did he just offer to help me? “Really? That would be amazing! I could definitely use some backup,” you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Perfect! Just let me know when you’re ready,” he said, flashing that signature smile that made your heart race. “And try not to bump into anyone else on your way to the exam, okay?”

You laughed again, feeling lighter than you had all day. “No promises! I might have a talent for accidents.”

With a final wave, he turned to leave, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter was different—something more than just another accident. Your thoughts raced as you watched him walk away, the hallway buzzing with energy. You had a lot to prepare for, but suddenly, the day felt a little brighter.

As the days passed, you found yourself wishing for those unexpected encounters with Chan every time you walked through the hallways. Maybe if I just keep my eyes peeled… But it seemed like the universe had a sense of humor; you only ever bumped into him when you least expected it—just like the last time.

Today, you were on a mission. You needed a specific art book for your upcoming project, and, of course, it was stored on the highest shelf in the library. Determined to get your hands on it, you made your way to the stairs, your heart racing with the hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d see him again.

You climbed the stairs, reaching for the book that was tantalizingly out of reach. Just as you stretched your arm up, your foot slipped slightly on the step, and in a split second, you stumbled backward, teetering precariously.

“Whoa!” a familiar voice called out, and before you could process it, Chan was right there, steadying you with a firm grip on your arm. “Careful there! Looks like you’re trying to give gravity a run for its money.”

You blinked in surprise, your heart pounding—not just from the near mishap but from his unexpected presence. “Chan! I didn’t see you there!” you exclaimed, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Clearly,” he replied, his lips curving into that teasing smile that always made your heart skip. “What’s the goal here? Trying to become a librarian superhero?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I was just trying to get this book.” You gestured to the high shelf, and he raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Do you need a hand?” he offered, glancing up at the shelf. “I’m pretty sure I can reach that without turning it into a circus act.”

You nodded, grateful for his help. “That would be amazing! I think I’d break the library record for most accidents in one visit if I tried again.”

As he stepped closer to the shelf, you couldn’t help but admire the way he moved with ease. He reached up, effortlessly grabbing the book and handing it to you. “Here you go, the hero of the day.”

You took the book from him, your fingers brushing against his for just a moment. “Thank you! You’ve saved my day.”

He shrugged, playfully nonchalant. “Just doing my part to help a fellow artist avoid disaster.” There was a pause, and you both shared a laugh, the air between you crackling with an easy connection.

“So, what’s this one about?” he asked, glancing at the cover.

“It’s about different art movements throughout history,” you said, opening the book to show him some of the illustrations. “I thought it would help with my project, but I got sidetracked with all the high shelves.”

“Maybe we should have a study session later,” he suggested, leaning casually against the shelf, making it seem like the most natural thing in the world. “I can help you brainstorm some ideas, and we can avoid any more… accidents.”

You felt a flutter of excitement in your chest. “That sounds great! I’d love the company.”

“Perfect! Just let me know when you’re free,” he replied, flashing that charming smile again. “And try not to climb any more shelves in the meantime.”

As you watched him leave, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Each accidental encounter felt like a step closer to something more, and you found yourself wishing that every day could be filled with these little moments.

You were placing your things in your locker one day when you noticed him—Chan—just a few lockers down. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him, and you couldn’t help but smile as you organized your books.

This time, it felt different. You weren’t colliding into him by chance; you were actually seeing him on purpose. “Hi!” you greeted, your voice brighter than you intended.

“Hello,” he replied, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

You hesitated for a moment, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. Finally, you took a breath and said, “Do you have time today? I��m going to brainstorm some ideas for my project at a café.”

He paused, considering it for a moment. “I have lots of time,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “What café are you thinking of?”

You felt a rush of excitement at his eagerness. “There’s that little one down the street, the one with the comfy chairs and those amazing pastries,” you said, your enthusiasm bubbling over. “I could really use a fresh perspective.”

“Sounds perfect. I’m in,” he said, closing his locker and leaning against it casually. “When do you want to head over?”

“Right now?” you suggested, feeling a little nervous but also thrilled at the idea of spending more time with him. “I have my books, and I could really use some caffeine to kickstart my creativity.”

“Let’s do it!” he replied, his enthusiasm contagious. He gestured for you to lead the way, and as you walked side by side down the hallway, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As you exited the school, the warm sunlight enveloped you, and the hustle and bustle of the outside world filled your ears. You glanced at Chan, who walked with an easy confidence. “So, what do you want to brainstorm about?” he asked, looking over at you with genuine interest.

“Well, I’m thinking about how to blend different art movements for my project. I want to create something that reflects both modern and classical styles,” you explained, your thoughts starting to flow.

“I love that idea!” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “You could play with color palettes and textures from different eras. That could really bring your piece to life.”

As you talked, you found yourself more at ease with each passing moment. The café came into view, and you felt a rush of anticipation. “Here it is! I hope they still have those pastries,” you said, glancing up at the sign.

“Oh, they do. Trust me, I’ve been here enough to know their secret menu,” he said with a mischievous grin. “You’re in for a treat.”

Once inside, you ordered your drinks and pastries, and found a cozy table by the window. The atmosphere buzzed with the sound of chatter and clinking cups, adding to the warmth of the moment.

You both settled in, and as you opened your notebook to jot down ideas, you felt a thrill of inspiration rush through you. “Okay, let’s brainstorm!” you said, eager to dive into your project with Chan by your side.

His presence made everything feel easier, and as you exchanged ideas, laughter, and stories, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the start of something wonderful—something that wasn’t just an accident.

Ever since that day, meeting Chan had become the most exciting part of your routine. Each moment spent with him made your heart race, and the days felt brighter.

“Thank you so much! My project received a nice grade,” you said, your eyes sparkling with gratitude.

“You deserve it,” Chan replied, his smile warm and encouraging. “Your hard work really paid off.”

Feeling a rush of happiness, you mustered the courage to ask, “Are you free today? I want to treat you to something nice to say thanks.”

Chan tilted his head, considering. “I have something to do, but who would let a free meal pass by?” He chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Perfect! Let’s go to that new restaurant that just opened downtown. I’ve heard they have amazing food,” you suggested, unable to contain your excitement.

“Lead the way!” he said, his enthusiasm matching yours.

As you made your way to the restaurant, the atmosphere buzzed with energy. The sun was shining brightly, and the warm breeze wrapped around you, making everything feel perfect.

Once you arrived, the tantalizing aroma of delicious dishes greeted you at the door. You both stepped inside, and after being seated at a cozy table, you glanced over the menu.

“Everything looks so good! I don’t even know where to start,” you said, biting your lip in indecision.

“Let’s order a bunch of things to share. It’s more fun that way!” Chan suggested, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You both decided on a variety of dishes, and as you waited for the food, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about everything—your favorite movies, music, and even your childhood dreams.

“I wanted to be an astronaut for the longest time,” Chan admitted with a laugh. “But then I realized I get dizzy just from spinning around in circles. So much for that dream!”

You laughed, picturing him in a space suit, and then replied, “At least you’re realistic! I wanted to be an artist, but then I discovered I’m more of a ‘creative disaster’ than anything else.”

“Hey, you’re an amazing artist! Look at that project of yours,” he said, gesturing to your notebook resting on the table. “It shows how creative you really are.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment. “Thanks, Chan. That means a lot coming from you.”

Just then, the server arrived with a feast of colorful dishes, and the two of you dove in, sharing bites and savoring each flavor. Laughter filled the air as you both shared stories and friendly banter, each moment deepening your connection.

“This is the best meal I’ve had in ages,” you said between bites, a satisfied grin on your face.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it! I have to admit, I was a little worried you wouldn’t want to hang out with me again after our first ‘accidental’ meeting,” Chan said, a teasing tone in his voice.

“Are you kidding? Those accidents turned out to be the best thing that’s happened to me!” you replied, your heart racing at the thought of how lucky you felt.

As you continued to eat, you realized that these moments with Chan were becoming something you looked forward to every day. The laughter, the food, and the warmth of his presence made you feel alive. And you couldn’t help but wonder where this unexpected journey with him might lead.

One day, as you were walking down the hallway, your heart raced at the thought of bumping into Chan again—not literally bumping, of course. You kept glancing around the corners, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, and your smile widened when you finally spotted him at the end of the hall.

He was really handsome, and the way he brushed his hair back only added to his charm. Without thinking, you picked up your pace, practically running to him.

“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath.

“Hey there!” Chan replied, his face lighting up at your enthusiasm.

“What are you up to?” you asked, trying to sound casual even though you were bursting with excitement at seeing him again.

“I’m working on a project for my photography class,” he explained, adjusting the camera strap slung over his shoulder. “Just trying to find some inspiration.”

“Do you need help?” you offered, eager to spend more time with him.

“Yeah, that would be awesome! Thank you!” he said, visibly relieved.

You both decided to head to the nearest park, where Chan could take pictures of the vibrant scenery. As you arrived, the sun peeked through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air was fresh and filled with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves.

You watched as he captured shots of the flowers blooming, the trees swaying in the gentle breeze, and the ducks swimming lazily in the pond. Every now and then, you noticed his brows furrowing in concentration as he reviewed the images.

“Are you happy with those?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“Not quite,” he admitted, letting out a sigh. “It just feels like something is missing.”

“Maybe try capturing something more candid,” you suggested, trying to help. “Like when someone is laughing or playing in the park. Those moments can tell a story.”

Chan looked at you with a spark of inspiration in his eyes. “That’s a great idea! Let’s wait for some people to come by and see what happens.”

As you both waited, you continued to chat and joke around, enjoying each other’s company. Finally, a group of children ran past, laughing and chasing each other. Chan’s camera clicked rapidly as he captured their joyful energy.

“See? That’s the kind of moment I was talking about!” you said, beaming at him.

“I see it now! Thank you for your help!” Chan said, his eyes shining with excitement. “You really have a good eye for this.”

You felt a warm rush of pride at his compliment, and as you watched him work, you couldn’t help but admire how passionate he was about photography.

After taking several more pictures, Chan turned to you, a grin spreading across his face. “Let’s get a picture of us together! It’ll be a fun memory.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” you said, feeling a mix of excitement and shyness.

“Come on! It’ll be great. Plus, I need to document our collaboration,” he insisted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You relented, and he set the timer on his camera before rushing back to stand beside you. As the camera clicked, you both laughed, and you felt a warmth in your heart that made you forget your nerves.

“Perfect!” Chan said, reviewing the picture. “We look awesome together.”

You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment, and for a moment, everything around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the budding connection that was blossoming. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this day was just another beautiful accident that led you closer to Chan.

It was midterms day, and the library buzzed with the nervous energy of students cramming for their exams. You sat at a table piled high with notes, textbooks, and a half-empty coffee cup, trying to absorb as much information as possible.

Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. You looked up to see Chan sliding into the chair next to yours, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Hey, ready for this?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Not even close,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around all this material.”

“Need a study buddy?” he offered, pulling out his own notes. “I could use a break from memorizing everything too. We can help each other out!”

“Sure, that sounds great!” you replied, relieved to have his company.

As the two of you delved into your notes, discussing concepts and quizzing each other, the atmosphere shifted from one of stress to camaraderie. With every question Chan asked, your confidence grew, and soon you found yourself explaining things more clearly.

“Wow, you really know your stuff!” Chan remarked, his expression genuinely impressed.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at the compliment. “Thanks! I guess all the late nights are finally paying off,” you said, trying to play it cool.

After a couple of hours of intense studying, you both took a break, stretching and grabbing a quick snack from the café. As you were chatting and laughing, a group of your friends passed by and stopped to gawk at the scene.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” one of your friends asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you two… studying together?”

“Yeah, just helping each other out,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your heart raced at their teasing tone.

Your friend nudged you playfully. “Helping each other out? Is that all?” They smirked knowingly.

“Uh, he’s just a friend,” you stammered, suddenly unsure of how to explain your connection to Chan. The truth was, he felt like more than just a friend, but you didn’t know how to articulate that.

“Sure, a friend,” your friend teased, winking at you. “It looks like there’s something more going on!”

Chan chuckled, clearly amused by the situation, and you felt a rush of embarrassment at the attention. “We really are just studying,” he assured them, his tone light and playful.

“Okay, okay,” your friend said, holding up their hands in mock surrender. “We’ll let you two get back to it. But don’t forget to let us know when you finally admit it!”

As they walked away, you couldn’t help but glance at Chan, who was still smiling at the exchange. “Sorry about that,” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness. “I didn’t mean to make it seem like… well, you know.”

Chan shook his head, still grinning. “Don’t worry about it. I mean, it is nice to spend time with you. We make a good team.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Yeah, we really do,” you agreed, a soft smile creeping onto your face.

As you settled back into your study session, the moment hung in the air between you—a promise of something more than just friendship, waiting to be explored.

The midterms had drained you completely. The lack of sleep and the stress from weeks of studying had finally taken their toll. You promised yourself that after the last exam, you would treat yourself to a good night’s sleep and a juicy steak—something to celebrate the end of your academic agony.

When the final exam wrapped up, a rush of exhilaration surged through you. You couldn’t help but throw your papers into the air, your laughter mingling with that of your friends. It was a celebration—freedom at last!

“Who’s ready to party?” one of your friends shouted, and the group erupted into cheers.

“I’m calling Chan!” you exclaimed, feeling a burst of happiness. You pulled out your phone, dialing his number, but after a few rings, it went to voicemail. You frowned, thinking he must be busy with his own post-exam plans. Shrugging it off, you put your phone away and joined your friends, who were already dancing to the music blasting from the speakers.

That night, you found yourself at the nearest bar, the energy around you vibrant and electric. You ordered a drink, savoring the coolness as it slid down your throat, and soon the dance floor called to you. You let loose, dancing and laughing, feeling all the stress melt away with each beat of the music.

After a few drinks, you felt invincible. You spun around, arms wide open, embracing the joy of the moment. That was when you noticed him.

Not too far away, standing at the bar with a drink in hand, was Chan. He looked relaxed in a casual outfit, chatting and laughing with a couple of friends. Your heart skipped a beat. It was the first time you’d seen him for first day of midterms, and somehow, he looked even more handsome in the dim light of the bar.

You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. Should you approach him? The thought made your stomach flutter. But as you watched him, you noticed he hadn’t seen you yet.

Deciding to make your move, you grabbed your drink and wove your way through the crowd, the music thumping in your ears. When you finally reached him, he turned, and his eyes lit up with surprise.

“Hey! Fancy seeing you here!” Chan exclaimed, his smile wide and genuine.

“Hey! I just finished my exams, so I thought I’d celebrate,” you said, trying to keep your tone light despite the fluttering in your chest. “What about you?”

“Same here! I needed a break after all that studying,” he replied, leaning slightly closer, making it easier to hear each other over the music. “Looks like you’re having a good time.”

“I am! I thought I’d treat myself, you know?” You took a sip of your drink, feeling a bit more confident. “How about you? Are you enjoying your night?”

“Definitely! It’s nice to unwind,” he said, glancing around the bar. “You should come join us. We’re about to play some pool.”

You felt a surge of excitement at the invitation. “Sounds fun! Let’s go!”

As you walked toward the pool table together, the noise of the bar faded away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. Your heart raced at the thought of spending time with him, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this night might be the beginning of something special.

Chan led you to the pool table, where a group of his friends was gathered. The atmosphere was lively, laughter and playful banter filling the air.

“This is Han,” he said, pointing to a tall guy with a warm smile. “He’s the best pool player here—don’t let him fool you with that innocent face.”

Han grinned, nudging Chan playfully. “Yeah, right. You’re just scared I’ll beat you again!”

“And this,” Chan continued, gesturing to a guy who was sprawled over the table, “is Seungmin. Don’t mind him; he’s just being dramatic.”

Seungmin lifted his head slightly, a smirk on his face. “Hey! I’m just conserving my energy for my inevitable victory,” he quipped before flopping back down, causing everyone to chuckle.

“..over there is Yuni,” Chan said, nodding toward a girl with vibrant hair and an infectious smile who was chatting animatedly with another friend. However, as she caught sight of you standing next to Chan, her expression shifted slightly. There was something in her gaze, a hint of judgment that made you feel self-conscious, as if she was silently questioning why you were with him.

You smiled at the lively introductions, trying to shake off the unease. “It’s great to meet you all! Chan’s been telling me a bit about you,” you said, glancing at Chan, who was trying to look innocent.

“Only good things, right?” Chan interjected with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Of course!” you laughed, enjoying the banter, but you couldn’t shake off Yuni’s penetrating look.

“So, what’s the plan?” Han asked, leaning against the table. “Are we playing a round of pool, or is it too easy for you guys?”

Chan glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “How about a little wager? Loser buys the next round of drinks.”

“Deal!” you replied, excitement bubbling up inside you, determined to prove yourself. “But I’m going to win.”

Seungmin raised his head just enough to give you a mock salute. “Good luck with that!”

As Chan set up the game, you could feel Yuni’s eyes on you, scrutinizing your every move. It made you slightly anxious, but you tried to focus on the game instead. The atmosphere felt more relaxed among Chan's friends, and it made you feel like you were part of something special. Chan’s presence was comforting, and you found yourself stealing glances at him, your heart racing every time your eyes met.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!” Chan challenged, holding the cue stick with a confident grin. You couldn’t help but smile back, ready to take on the challenge, even if Yuni’s judgment lingered at the back of your mind.

The game began, and you focused intently on the table. Chan broke first, sending the balls scattering across the green felt. His movements were fluid and confident, and you admired the way he handled the cue stick.

“Nice shot!” Han cheered, clapping him on the back as the solid balls spread across the table. Chan beamed, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Your turn,” Chan said, stepping aside and motioning for you to take your shot. You felt a rush of excitement mixed with nerves as you approached the table, trying to shake off Yuni's scrutinizing gaze.

You lined up your shot, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. “Here goes nothing,” you mumbled to yourself. With a swift motion, you struck the cue ball, watching it collide with the colored balls. You sunk a solid, and a rush of exhilaration washed over you.

“Wow, not bad!” Chan said, genuine admiration in his voice.

“You’re going to have to do better than that!” you replied playfully, trying to channel the confidence you felt.

As the game continued, laughter and friendly banter filled the air. You found yourself lost in the moment, enjoying the thrill of competition and the company of Chan and his friends. You occasionally caught Yuni’s gaze again, but this time, you shrugged it off.

You and Chan worked well together, each of you strategizing and laughing through the ups and downs of the game. “I think we make a pretty good team,” Chan said, grinning at you after you executed a tricky shot.

“Team? I thought we were opponents!” you teased back, leaning on the table with a playful smile.

“Fine, but I’m going to crush you next round,” he shot back, feigning a fierce glare.

The game was intense, with each of you sinking balls and trying to outsmart the other. After a particularly close shot where you barely missed sinking the eight ball, you groaned dramatically, drawing laughter from the group.

“Come on, you can do better than that!” Seungmin teased, lifting his head for a moment to join in the laughter.

“Hey, I’m still getting used to the pressure of having such talented players around me!” you shot back, winking at him.

Eventually, the game came down to the last ball, and the tension in the air was palpable. You took a moment to breathe, steadying your hands as you lined up your shot.

“Just focus,” Chan whispered, stepping close enough that you could feel his warmth. “You got this.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of determination. As you took your shot, the cue ball sailed smoothly into the eight ball, sending it into the pocket with a satisfying clack. Cheers erupted from your friends, and you jumped up in excitement, unable to contain your joy.

“Did I just win?” you exclaimed, wide-eyed with disbelief.

“Looks like it!” Han said, clapping you on the back. “Great job!”

Yuni, however, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, still watching you closely. You tried not to let her expression dampen your mood. “So, who’s buying the next round?” you asked, turning your attention back to the group, hoping to shift the atmosphere.

“Loser buys,” Chan declared, pretending to pout. “But I guess that means I owe you one!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you treat me later,” you said with a teasing grin.

As the group moved toward the karaoke area, you felt an electric energy between you and Chan. With each passing moment, you were more grateful for the accidental encounters that had brought you to this point. Who knew a series of mishaps would lead to a night full of laughter, friendship, and possibly something more?

And even if Yuni still looked at you like a puzzle she needed to solve, you were too busy enjoying the moment to let it bother you. After all, you were finally having fun, and it felt good.

As the night deepened, the lively chatter and laughter of the group created a warm atmosphere. You found a cozy seat at the edge of the karaoke stage, sipping on your drink and watching Chan as he jokingly sang off-key. Everything felt perfect until you noticed Yuni making her way toward you, her expression a mix of confidence and something more sinister.

Her confident stride and sharp smile cutting through the laughter and music. She leaned closer, her voice low and dripping with a condescending sweetness. “Hey there, just wanted to have a little chat.”

“Sure,” you said cautiously, bracing yourself for whatever she had to say.

“Listen,” she said, crossing her arms, “Chan is mine. You need to back off. He’s not interested in you.” Her tone had that classic mean girl edge, and your heart raced as you absorbed her words.

“No,” you replied firmly, trying to match her intensity. “I like Chan, and I think he likes me too. I’m not going to just walk away because you say so.”

Her laughter was sharp, almost mocking. “Oh, really? You think he’s into you? That’s adorable.” She leaned in, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Let me show you some proof.”

Before you could respond, Yuni stood up, her heels clicking against the floor as she strode confidently towards Chan. You felt your heart drop, your gut twisting in anticipation and dread. The entire bar seemed to fade into the background as you watched her approach him.

She whispered something in his ear, and for a moment, Chan turned to look at you, confusion crossing his features. Then, without any hesitation, Yuni leaned in and kissed him. The moment felt like a punch to the gut, and time seemed to freeze as you watched Chan’s reaction.

He didn’t push her away.

That was your sign. Your breath caught in your throat, a mixture of disbelief and disappointment washing over you. You stood up abruptly, the weight of the moment crashing down on you. You couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

Ignoring the sounds of laughter and music, you turned and made your way toward the exit, the laughter of your friends fading behind you. Each step felt heavier as the reality settled in. You thought you had something special with Chan, but seeing him with Yuni shattered that illusion in an instant.

You stepped out into the cool night air, taking a deep breath to calm the storm brewing inside you. You needed to collect your thoughts. This wasn’t the end, you reminded yourself. It was a moment, not a conclusion. You wouldn’t let Yuni or this situation define how you felt about Chan or yourself.

As you walked away from the bar, your resolve strengthened. You would figure this out—whatever it took.

You stumbled out of the bar, the cool night air hitting your flushed cheeks like a splash of reality. Once outside, you leaned against the cool brick wall, the laughter and music fading into the background as the tears you’d been holding back spilled over.

You cried silently, each sob echoing the turmoil inside you. You knew it; deep down, you had always known. All those moments—each little accident that had brought you to Chan—had turned out to be just that: accidents. The awkward encounters, the clumsy run-ins, the way you had been drawn together—it was all a series of mishaps that had somehow made you believe there was something more.

Meeting Chan had felt like fate at first, like a spark that ignited something inside you. But now, standing alone in the dark, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it had all been a fluke, a twist of the universe that had no real purpose.

“An accident is an accident,” you murmured through your tears, repeating the words like a mantra. Every encounter had been a result of your own clumsiness, your carelessness leading you into a whirlwind of emotions you weren’t prepared to handle.

You thought about how carefree you had felt with him, the way he made you laugh and the comfort of his presence. But now, that joy felt tainted, overshadowed by the image of him kissing Yuni, the girl who had made it clear she wanted him. It felt like a cruel joke, and you were the punchline.

As the tears flowed, you took deep breaths, trying to calm the storm inside. It was time to let go of the fantasy you had built around Chan, to accept that maybe what you felt wasn’t meant to be.

Wiping your eyes, you stood up straighter, determined not to let this moment define you. It hurt, but you wouldn’t let it break you. “You deserve better,” you whispered to yourself.

With one last deep breath, you turned away from the bar and started to walk. It was time to reclaim your night, even if it meant facing the reality of the situation head-on. No more accidents; you needed to be more careful, not just with your surroundings but with your heart.

As you walked home, you made a promise to yourself. You would move on, even if it took time. You would find a way to let go of the ‘what-ifs’ and embrace whatever came next, accidents or not.

Days turned into a blur, and despite Chan's constant messages lighting up your phone, you chose to ignore them. Why would he contact you after what happened? You found yourself lost in thought as you folded clothes, the fabric slipping through your fingers. A sudden craving for coffee hit you, breaking through your distracted haze.

With a determined sigh, you made your way to the coffee shop. As you approached, doubt crept in. What if you ran into Chan? You paused, took a deep breath, and reassured yourself, If it’s meant to happen, then let it be.

Stepping inside, you felt a wave of relief wash over you when you didn’t see him. You took your sweet time, savoring the aroma of freshly brewed coffee as you glanced at the menu, letting the moment distract you.

Just as you were about to leave, you caught sight of him standing at the entrance. He looked surprised to see you, his eyes widening slightly.

“Can we talk?” he asked, stepping closer.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding, your curiosity outweighing your apprehension. You found a small table in the corner, and he sat down across from you, his demeanor shifting to one of earnestness.

He glanced down, his brow furrowed in thought. “What do you want to drink? I can get you something.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m okay; I already have some.”

His gaze softened as he leaned in slightly, studying your face. “Why have you been ignoring my messages?”

You let out a soft sigh, your heart racing at the vulnerability in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was busy.”

He nodded, his expression filled with understanding. “But why did you leave the party without saying goodbye? I was looking for you.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just had to go home. That’s all.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Yuni… she tells me everything.”

You fell silent, unsure of how to respond.

“The truth is, after that party, I’m ignoring Yuni. I’m never talking to her again.”

“Why would you do that?” you asked, concern creeping into your tone. The thought of him standing up to her made your heart flutter.

“Because she hurt you,” he said, his voice steady yet filled with emotion.

You felt a pang in your chest. I’m not hurt because of her… I’m hurt because I was careless, you thought to yourself, grappling with your conflicting emotions.

“Look, I was drunk,” he continued, his eyes filled with regret. “I only realized she kissed me after I pushed her away... and then I saw you running.”

You could see the weight of his words pressing down on him. “You don’t need to explain,” you murmured, trying to keep your composure.

“I need to explain,” he insisted, leaning forward, his intensity palpable. “I don’t want you away from me.”

“Chan…” you called softly, feeling your heart race.

“You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a whisper, “after that accident of meeting you… my life changed.”

His confession hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt your breath hitch, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his words. Your heart pounded in your chest as you processed what he was saying. Could it be true?

Chan’s words lingered in the air, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. You could feel the weight of the moment, the vulnerability in his voice pulling at your heart.

"Meeting you..." he hesitated, his gaze falling to the table for a second before lifting back to you. "It felt like one of those accidents that just... changed everything. And at first, I thought it was just that—a coincidence, a bump in the hallway. But then... it wasn’t."

You stayed silent, your pulse quickening as he continued.

"I wasn’t expecting it. To feel this way. But… I think I’ve been falling for you. Accidentally in love, if you want to call it that."

His confession took your breath away, the rawness of it catching you off guard. You tried to respond, but the words got stuck in your throat. He smiled softly at your reaction, the kind of smile that carried relief but also nervousness, as if he wasn’t sure what you’d say next.

"I know everything between us started with these random moments," Chan continued, his voice low and sincere. "But those ‘accidents’ became the best part of my day. Seeing you in the hallway, at the coffee shop… it’s like you became my favorite surprise."

You swallowed hard, the emotions swirling in your chest almost too much to bear. "Chan... I..." you started, unsure of how to put your feelings into words. The truth was, you’d felt it too—that strange sense of anticipation every time you thought you might see him, the way your heart raced whenever your paths crossed.

His hand gently reached across the table, brushing against yours, and you felt warmth spread through you. "I don’t want to lose you," he said softly. "I don’t care about the circumstances. I just want to be with you, whether it's an accident or fate."

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. It wasn’t just an accident anymore. Maybe it never was. The two of you were brought together by chance, but now, it felt like something deeper.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Maybe accidents aren’t so bad after all," you said with a shy smile.

His eyes lit up at your words, and a smile slowly formed on his face. "Yeah?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

"Yeah," you nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I think I’ve been falling for you too, Chan."

He let out a soft laugh, a sound filled with both relief and joy. "I’m so glad you said that," he murmured, his hand closing around yours. "Because I really don’t want to go through another day pretending I don’t feel this way."

You squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. Maybe the best things really do happen by accident.

Chan’s hand, warm and steady, held yours like an anchor, and for the first time in days, the weight on your chest seemed to lift. What started as random, fleeting moments had turned into something real, something neither of you could deny any longer.

"Maybe," you said softly, meeting his eyes, "we were supposed to find each other like this—through all these accidents."

He smiled at that, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "Then I guess I'm grateful for every one of them," he said, his voice tender. "Because they brought me to you."

The tension that had been hanging over you for so long melted away, replaced with a quiet sense of happiness. What you thought were accidents, moments of carelessness, were really the universe pushing you toward each other, piece by piece.

You realized that sometimes, the best things in life don’t come with planning or expectations. Sometimes, they come when you're not looking—an accidental meeting that turns into something much more. And now, sitting across from Chan, his hand in yours, you knew that this wasn’t just an accident anymore. It was the start of something real.

And just like that, the uncertainty faded away. You had no idea what the future held, but you didn’t need to know. Right here, right now, was enough.

Because in the end, maybe the best kind of love really is the one you stumble into, accidentally.

an: a heart, reblog, and comment is very much appreciated. thankyou