blueberry

ta!sae who, despite his ice-cold rep, has full office hours, because he is as good as they say (if not better), his comments and critiques, if a little on the harsher side, are always helpful and right to the point, and sure, he's been known to make students with more tender dispositions cry on occasion from his hyper-blunt comments ("and what exactly are you trying to say with this sentence? it goes on for... half the paragraph and doesn't make a cohesive point." "there's no coherent thread between the in-text examples and your examination of them -- did you consider these quotes at all before you chose them?") but it's an undisputed fact that he helps you get better, no matter the method.

ta!sae who's got a weird fan-following amongst the more precocious female students (and a handful of the males as well), but he never pays them much mind, treating them like he does everyone else, brushing off their obvious advances, never blushing when a girl gets too close, tries to run her finger along the length of his suspenders, asks him if he's down to get coffee -- he'd pin her with a flat look and repeat that "office hours are monday through thursday, from 3-5pm" and that if she needs help, she can sign up for a slot just like everyone else.

ta!sae who almost does a double-take the first time you step into his little office, but he manages to keep his gaze steady when you settle yourself across his desk and lay out your notes; he can't help thinking to himself that you're a pretty one. but he files that thought away for later -- it's not like you're the first pretty girl to appear opposite him in this office, and he's sure you won't be the last. but there's something about you... he just doesn't know what yet.

ta!sae who expects you to recoil from his comments, but you don't. you push back, you question him, force him to pause and rethink his viewpoints. he blinks, meets your eyes -- and for the first time, he feels a heat prickling into the skin of his cheeks. who, finds himself glancing at the clock on the wall, only to find that he's held you longer than your allotted time but when you get up to leave, he feels a sharp tug in his stomach, like the urge to lean forward and catch your wrist in his, just to see if your pulse is jumping, like his just did.

"i'll see you in a week, then."

you turn at the door, your eyes bright.

"but i haven't made another appointment."

sae blinks owlishly at you, the hard turquoise of his gaze sharpening beneath the florescent lighting.

"then make one."

you cock your head to the side; the corner of your lip twitches. then, you're turning and slipping through his door.

ta!sae who refreshes his calendar every 30 minutes for the next day and a half until he sees that you've finally made an appointment for the same time next week. and the week after. and, the week after that. he allows himself a tiny smile, turns his phone onto do not disturb, and does not check it again for the rest of that week.

ta!sae who pays a bit more attention to you in class, though not enough for any of the other students to notice. who lets his eyes linger on you, even though you never sit in the first row, whenever you look up from your notes, it's to find him watching you, though the second your eyes meet, he'll blink once, and turn away, going back to the lecture. and when you show up to your second appointment for his office hours, he's waiting for you, his fingers laced casually over his desk, his glasses perched on his nose.

you pause for a second by the door to admire the image -- sharp-tongued as he may be, reticent and even cold-shouldered, he still cuts a startling image, strawberry hair and ocean eyes, set off by the muted woods of the bookshelf behind him, the walnut grain of his desk, the piles of papers and books just a tad messier than one might expect of someone like him.

"come. sit."

you do, dropping into the seat opposite him and pressing your bag into your lap. a beat of silence. you point towards a small manila file on his desk.

"you gave me a b minus on the last pop quiz."

sae glances towards it before his eye slingshot back to you. it takes everything inside you not to shiver at the contact.

"yes, and?"

"i -- i don't think i deserved that grade."

he makes a soft noise and reaches over, tugging your quiz out with near surgical precision. he presses it to the table and flips it around, pushing it towards you, the red marks jarring against the white page, the black in, the faint grayscale of your penciled in answers.

"and why's that?"

"i --" you suck in a breath, "on question three, you marked me off, but my answer was correct. it was just a phrasing issue."

"hm. i appreciate you feel that way. i don't agree."

ta!sae who doesn't waste time arguing with you, but does take your complaints into account. the rest of your session is spent going over the notes from the previous class and clearing up any misunderstandings that might've sprung from the text. by the time you leave, you feel slightly better, but you pause by the door, glancing over your shoulder. you find him watching you, as you so often do nowadays.

"s-since you don't do grade adjustments... do you accept extra credit work?"

sae's eyes flicker with something so akin to hunger it makes your stomach flip. then again, it might've just been curiosity or incredulity, caught beneath the slant-wise light of the small, windowless office.

"no."

"oh... you... you wouldn't even consider it?"

he's quiet for a bit longer this time. then, he drops his eyes to the stack of papers on his desk.

"i'll see you next week."

ta!sae who gets used to seeing you on tuesday nights, for the last 30 minutes of his office hours. who lets you stay five minutes over, and then ten. and then one day, he glances at the clock, and it's almost 6pm. he purses his lips, lets his eyes flicker over the shape of you, scribbling in your notebook, an array of pastel-colored highlighters scattered across his usually meticulously organized desk.

"are you hungry?"

you glance up, your fingers pausing over your notes.

"oh, uh --"

"there's a pizza place around the corner."

you stare at him for a few seconds before your stomach growls and heat washes into your cheeks. you scramble to cram your study materials into your bag, blushing something furious as you smooth a palm over your skirt and stand up.

"y-yeah -- sounds good."

ta!sae who's quiet, watching you dig into your hawaiian pizza, who doesn't question it when you order banana peppers on the side and snack of them like they're french fries, though he does make a face when you ask him if he wants actual french fries.

"not a fan?" you ask, grinning as you take another bite of pizza. his eyes linger on the grease-slicked shine of your lips longer than it ought, before he takes a much smaller, dainty bite of his own.

"no." he offers no explanation, and you don't ask for one.

the next week, he doesn't ask if you're hungry. only stands up and motions for the door.

ta!sae who finds himself a little lost the first time he hears you laugh, the sound of it so bright, ringing through him, reverberating against his bones till he can feel it in his teeth. and not for the first time, he wonders what it might feel like to kiss you, to lick the pizza grease off yours lips, and if your mouth would taste like canned pineapples.

truthfully, he doesn't think he'd mind.

ta!sae who, when he does finally give into the urge and kiss you, it's a barely controlled thing, all teeth and barely-restrained hunger, and it's so much more passionate than you might expect that you jerk back a second later, wide eyes flickering between his as if looking for some kind of hidden explanation. he offers none, only drags you forward by the collar of your dress to meld your lips again, groans against the feeling of your lips on his, licks into your mouth till you're melting against him, hoists you bodily into his lap so you're straddling him proper, his fingers digging into the plush of your hips, trailing down to tease at the skin of your thighs --

"i -- i thought -- you didn't accept extra credit --" you pant, rolling your hips down just to watch his lashes flutter (and they're stupidly gorgeous, aren't they? he's known for them -- itoshi sae, of the unnecessarily long, perfect lashes).

he sucks in a breath, his palms planted on your hips as you rock yourself against him.

"i never said anything -- about extra credit."

ta!sae who is annoyingly stoic, even as you're working yourself into a frenzy in his lap, soaking through your panties, his slacks, and if not for the threadiness in his breath or the way you can feel his cock pulsing inside his pants, you'd almost miss how debauched he actually is on the inside. who grips your waist so hard you're sure you'll find the pale blue ghosts of his fingertips there the following morning (not that you mind), the crescent moon kisses of his nails as he helps you ride his cock over the thin material of his slacks.

ta!sae who, after he's finally had enough of all this foreplay, presses you down over his desk, papers and all, flipping up the hem of your skirt to tug aside your panties, the soft click of his belt coming undone making your shiver, but when you try to turn your head, all you feel is a palm against the back of your neck, his fingers curling around the sides --

"keep still --"

you stop your squirming, but you can't help the way you keen when he feel his cockhead pushing at your sodden folds, or the way your hips jerk forward when he sheaths himself inside you, the stretch of it making your eyes flutter shut, a groan twisting its way from your throat.

"f-fuck --" you gasp, the first time he pulls back and rucks forward again. you hear him hiss out a long breath, feel the pressure of his hand leave your neck, feel him trail his hand down the length of your spine to pull at your arms, locking them behind your back as he starts to fuck into you proper.

ta!sae who does not tell you to keep quiet, because he knows that it's late enough, and his office is the last one at the end of the hallway --

"no one's here this late, usually --" his voice is more level than you'd like; you clench down around him just to hear his breath stutter. but then he's bending over you, pressing his chest to the whole length of your back, pinning you beneath him, his voice hot by your ear as he murmurs --

"c'mon then, let me hear you."

ta!sae who is rougher than you'd expect, fucking you hard enough for the edge of the table to dig into your hips, the tenderness only heightening the pleasure as he leans back, the new angle making your eyes roll back. who yanks you up by your arms, uncaring to the way they strain as he jackhammers into you from behind, groaning low in his throat as he finally reaches his climax, pulling out only to paint the length of your back, right over your blouse, careless of the way you whine -- both at the loss of him and also the thought of him messing up your shirt.

"t-that's gonna stain!" you snipe, pouting as you glance over your shoulder at him, not quite able to muster a full glare, but you hope that you dissatisfaction comes across all the same.

he's a bit breathless, his cheeks a bit redder than usual, but otherwise, he looks stupidly normal for having just fucked you over his desk. he fixes you with a look before letting go of your arms.

"you brought a jacket, didn't you?"

ta!sae who hoists you up onto the desk as soon as you turn around, despite your squeak of surprise, dropping to his knees to bury his face between your thighs. you barely have time to yelp before the sound morphs into a gasp of pleasure as he licks a long strip up your cunt and shoves three fingers into you, curling them up till your vision fizzes out at the sides.

"oh fuck --!"

you glance down to see him watching you, his sea-glass eyes fixed on your face even as you reach down to fist your fingers in his hair, uncertain if you want to push him away for pull him closer.

ta!sae who eats you out with the tactical precision of a surgeon, till you're shaking open above him, rolling your hips into his face, your ass almost falling off the edge of the desk, and when he finally pulls away, your slick shining down his chin, he only licks his lips and reaches into a drawer for a pack of tissues, offering you one while taking the other to wipe at his face.

"i'll see you next week," he says, tossing the tissue away, even as you wiggle your panties back into place.

you let out a soft puff of incredulous laughter. he cocks his head, waiting for you to say something. you fix him with a long look before grinning and rolling your eyes, smoothing down the hem of your dress and picking up your book bag.

"yeah. see you then.

ta!sae who doesn't even startle when two days later, you storm into his office, well outside of his office hours, waving the paper he'd passed back that morning in class.

"you gave me a c plus?"

sae is unfazed by your apparent agitation, shrugging before lowering his eyes back to his book.

"you missed some key parts of the reading. if you bring it by next tuesday, we can go over the specific --"

"i've got your cumstains on the back of one of my favorite blouses!"

for a beat, sae is silent, considering your words. then, he looks up, tugging his glasses off his nose bridge and folding them carefully on his desk.

"they come out with a bit of baking powder and white vinegar. and i believe i made myself very clear at the beginning of term --" he slowly rolls up the sleeves of his white button up before folding his hands delicately on the table, right behind his glasses.

"i don't accept extra credit or any... supplementary work."

you lick your lips at the inflection in his tone, your cheeks flaring with heat.

"however."

you perk up as he glances at the clock on the wall, leaning back to pop the first button of his shirt.

"i do have some time before my next lecture --"

you feel a thrill tingle up your spine as you watch him pop the second button on his shirt with a casual flick of his thumb.

"... and if you'd like to discuss the things you missed, i might make an exception."

you raise your eyebrows, reaching back to shut the door behind you. the click of the lock makes your mouth water.

"to what," you ask, dropping your bookbag by the chair and rounding the table, leaning against the edge as sae's eyes skate down the length of you, lingering on the imprint of your bra peaking through your blouse, "the extra credit thing or your office hours."

the shadow of a grin twitches at sae's lips as he tugs you down into his lap.

"either, both. i suppose... you'll have to wait to find out."

rin itoshi:

-he looks like he doesnt care but hes actually doing his very best to help you

-doesnt pressure you at all. waits patiently if your stuttering or struggling to find the correct words

-he contemplates sending messages of encouragement to you, but when he does, he immediately deletes it out of embarrassment and hopes you didnt see it (you did)

-doesnt actually help you until you ask for it (he wants to keep his cool exterior)

-until then, he slightly hints about your anxiety and how to help it once in a while

-calls you names playfully if you take 10 minutes trying to ask the shopkeeper of they accept cash

-watches youtube videos on "how to help somebody with social anxiety"

-careful not to be too harsh because hes scared of his words actually hurting you

yoichi isagi:

-if were being honest, he'd struggle with helping you get rid of your struggle with words

-he puts in 100% effort though

-comforts you and reassures you everytime you think an interaction when wrong

-finishes your sentences when you pause mid way a conversation with someone in public because you didnt know the right words to say

-brainstorms day and night on how to help you

-nudges you on to atleast try to talk to someone, because if you mess up, he'll cover

shidou ryusei:

-kind of just jokes about it 24/7

-jumpscares you (he hopes that you'll get used to his jumpscares so that when someone suddenly talks to you out of nowhere in public, you wont be as surprised and blue screen like you used to)

-flirts with you too

-really careful on not to cross the line

-if he accidentally does though, he pats your back soothingly amd apologizes

-this man will shower you with physical touch. slowly, though. he wants you to get used to it. it starts off from small, brief brushes of both of your shoulder, then to holding hands, and eventually escalating to cuddling.

-obnoxiously supportive. like, he yells "HELL YEAH!! YOU ROCK!! YOU DIDNT STUTTER FOR 2 WHOLE WORDSS!!!!! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU." in public.

Yukimiya Kenyu has the patience of a saint. he’s sweet — kind, caring, the synonyms go as long as a grocery shopping list. and oh, not to mention his respect for women. it’s truly endearing how he’s not afraid to express that to you — how he’s not afraid to make sure that you know that you’re his first and last love. by carrying your groceries, giving his jacket when it’s cold out, he truly never fails to show how much he loves you.

now, he’s also not one to eavesdrop. he finds it truly disrespectful and meaningless. he’s sure to keep his ears and mind to himself whenever a phone call or conversation is happening around him — friend or not, even if it’s just a word he had heard — he doesn’t enjoy eavesdropping, no matter who it is talking.

but now, even if he hates to admit it, he’s slightly thankful that he eavesdropped a small bit on your conversation with a friend on the other line. even if the guilt is gnawing at him — eating him alive for even thinking on invading your privacy and for him to feel somewhat glad he did, another part of him wants to make your wishes come true.

“I dunno. it’s not that he doesn’t satisfy me — hell, he’s more than enough. I just want to know what he’s like if he’s a little rough, y’know what I mean?”

oh, he knows what you mean. he’s not shaming you for it — your wishes are completely valid and understandable. he has always been rather gentle and soft during intimacy — hands interlocked as he whispers praises into your ear, thrusts slow but deep — deep enough to hit that gummy spot inside of you and have your toes curling.

he doesn’t want to overstep boundaries, or do something you don’t like. the two of you have been in love for as long as he can remember, from where he was an unknown football player to a rising star of bastard münchen. he’d honestly rather lose his career than to lose you, because what would he ever do if his other half was missing?

chained by the worry of accidentally hurting you, he’s been keeping himself on his best behavior during intimacy, holding back the urge to start ravaging you and show you what he’s been wanting to do for so long. why else do you think he laces his fingers with yours gently, caressing your body affectionately while kissing every inch of your skin? even through the temptation he gets, from the talks in the locker rooms and the videos he’s watched — he has to hold himself and his thoughts together, trying to ignore the way his dick springs up at the thought of your eyes rolling to the back of your head and nails scratching his back to leave pretty marks as he fucks the life out of you.

after all, your pleasure and comfort was his top priority, he doesn’t blame you for wanting a change of pace. but as your boyfriend, it’s his duty to make your wishes come true — right?

“k-kenyu -! what’s — mmph, gotten i-into you..!”

oh, you sound and look so pretty. lips parted in ecstasy with your brows furrowed, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as you whine and writhe — if he knew this was what you wanted all along, he would’ve done this sooner, much much sooner. his grip on your legs grow tighter, making sure they don’t fall off his shoulders as he meanly drills his cock inside of your gummy walls.

“hm? thought this was what you wanted, sweetheart.” his tone was sickeningly sweet, as if he was comforting you on a bad day — as if his length wasn’t abusing your poor, sopping cunt. his glasses were folded neatly on the bedside table, as if he’s been planning on doing this for so long, as if he’s planned this from the very, very beginning.

what a silly question — he thinks. he could practically see the gears working in your head, as you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to make out what he was trying to imply behind that sweet and soothing tone of his — even through the way he was molding your pretty pussy into the precise shape of his cock, to its tip down to its veins, through the way that he was slowly engraving his name on your brain.

“h-haah ? — what do y-you mean, Ken—”

“I overheard your conversation.”

he wastes little to no time on cutting you off of your words. he lifts your hips a little higher, angling his own to hit even deeper inside of you. to him, him overhearing your conversation was nothing more than a silly excuse to fuck you a little rougher than he usually would. he would never intentionally eavesdrop on any phone call you were having. he couldn’t bite back the chuckle bubbling in his chest as you still looked up at him, dazed and confused — trying to focus on him and his words.

“about you wanting me to go rough.”

he almost wants to laugh at the way your eyes widen, lips parting to say something to defend yourself — but once more, he cuts you off, this time — with a sharp thrust of his hips against yours, watching in amusement and pleasure as your words abruptly turn into a choked moan.

“ ‘m not mad, love.” he reassures gently, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your forehead, one hand leaving your thighs to move to cup your cheeks, his hold gentle yet firm, a huge contrast to the way the sound of skin slapping quickly filled the room. a sleazy grin tugs the corners of his lips, as he lets out a soft, shaky exhale.

“haah — though I did wish you could’ve told me sooner,” he breathed out gently, slowly finding himself lost in the feeling of your walls wrapped so snugly around him — pulling him in deeper like a drug.

“you d-don’t know how — ugh, long I’ve been wanting to do this.” his eyes take in the pretty sight below him, how your chest heaves and breasts bounce with each harsh thrust. his hand trails down from your chin to your left boob, squeezing it gently.

he snickers at the way your head was tilting to the side slowly, as if you were completely fucked out already — your vision blurry with tears.

“look at me when I’m talking to you, sweetheart.” his hand gently slaps your cheek not once, but twice — gentle but firm enough to get your full attention. “makes me wonder. do you like it when I manhandle you, then?” tilting his head to the side slightly, his slender fingers trail down once more — wrapping around your pretty neck just enough to keep your head in place, pushing it against pillows gently.

“o-oh, yes — Kenyu, right there-!”

his cock hits that gummy spot inside of you which makes you loll your head back, the heel of your feet digging into his back as wanton moans escape your throat.

His brows knit together, soft grunts escaping his throat as he could feel you clench around him. it’s like his first time with you all over again. his hips moved at an inhuman speed — a speed he normally conserved for when he was on the field, whereas his goal would be to score the winning shot, but this time? his goal was to score his load into you as deep as he fucking could.

if his memory was bound to be erased, leaving him with only one choice on which memory he would like to keep, he would definitely choose this one.

shit. he could feel his dick twitching inside of you the more he took in the sight of his fingers wrapped around your throat, tears now streaming down your cheeks as the sound of skin slapping bounces off the walls — his balls hitting against your hole so perfectly. and he’s trying not to shoot his load just yet, because God does he want this moment to last, but with the way your eyes are rolled to the back of your head? it’s proving to be much more difficult then he had originally thought.

it’s almost unfair how pretty you look. a light sheen of sweat coating your body, a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead due to said sweat. how can you expect him to last? this was so much better than his imagination, so so much better than the thoughts his mind would visualize out during those nights where he’d fist his cock tightly to the thoughts of you.

“I-I’m sorry,, Kenyu — d-didn’t mean it that way, I swear —“ you say in between thrusts, struggling to keep your voice loud enough for him to hear properly. you could make out the chuckle escaping his lips, his hand reaching up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“now, what’s there to be sorry about, love?” he coos gently,

“If anything, jus’ gives me more of a reason to have your eyes rolling further to the back of your skull.”

— a/n ! : ts lowkey ass but it’ll have to do for now woopsies, hope you guys liked this !!

I do not give consent to plagiarize, copy, or translate in any form whatsoever — thank you!

˚·˚ Kugisaki Nobara ｡˚

🎧 | Let's all be honest, she'll give you the most baffled expression. An eyebrow raised, eyes widened and everything

🎧 | She'd think that you were kidding because you absolutely despise if not hate physical touch, so she doesn't really know what to say or do

🎧 | "Huh? No way! I don't know what plans you have!" She would exclaim upon properly registering your words and quickly raised up a hand as if wanting to karate chop you.

🎧 | But when you'd just stare at her with that blank expression, she soon realized that you were serious and had 0 ill intent. Though she was still skeptical.

🎧 | "Mkaaay.. if you don't want anything in return, then c'mere." She muttered and soon and gave you that awaited hug with a soft chuckle.

🎧 | She'd be lying if she said she didn't like that hug tho, lol.

˚·˚ Itadori Yuji ｡˚

🎧 | Now honestly, I'd be unsure if he'd be ecstatic at the idea of you FINALLY opening up to someone, or be scared of you secretly wanting to strangle him. None in between.

🎧 | "Uhh what's with the sudden request..?" He asks with a cold sweat dripping down his cheek. His voice is exactly the time where he was speaking to Maki about her Cursed Tool.

🎧 | "Nothing." You'd reply back while idly staring at him with your arms just ready for a simple, quick hug.

🎧 | "You sure you aren't trying something?" "Why would I be trying something?!"

🎧 | After a few seconds of "identifying" your intentions, he'd just engulf you in a bear hug. Instead of you strangling him, HE strangles you.

˚·˚ Fushiguro Megumi ｡˚

🎧 | This man gave you the most ghastly expression that you've SEEN. He doesn't believe it. No. It's like Gojo being serious. That's how he views this.

🎧 | "I'm sorry? Did you eat something today? I can ask Gojo-sensei if you want something I-" "Megumi I do not want anything. I want a hug."

🎧 | He was quick to shut his mouth. He backed up two steps as if you were the plague or something. He KNOWS you can be cunning, secretive, and has many tricks up your sleeve.

🎧 | "Okay L/n quit it. You're creeping me out." "YOU'RE creeping me out!"

🎧 | Then you just stared at each other after that. One out of bewilderment and one out of irritation. You can take your guess.

🎧 | "No. Absolutely not. Goodbye."

🎧 | Then he walks away. Mission not a success. But you can always try again next time!

CONCLUDED!

A/N : Silly idea I thought of, will be doing the second years! Should I add the Kyoto students too or nah..

“Maybe three months ago the answer could’ve been ‘Yes Ging, oh I missed you so much! Gimme a smooch!’ Now I feel more like beating your ass,” I slammed the door before locking it. 

He didn’t look back at me but just laughed. “My clothes still in that bedside dresser? I’m soaked here.” 

I rubbed my face aggressively, restraining myself from beating at his back. “Why. Are. You. Here,” I spoke through gritted teeth. There was a time where I longed for Ging, a time where he could’ve come in and out of my home and I would be there every time to welcome his return; that time was now long gone I convinced myself. 

This time he did look back, already halfway towards my bedroom, “I was passing by and figured I’d stop in.” My jaw began to hurt as my back teeth ground together. That dumbass smile he had made my blood boil, he had no shame. 

I stomped in after him; he already had his shirt off and was working on his pants as his leftover clothes were strewn across my bed. “See? I knew they were still here,” he turned to face me, “Couldn’t forget such fond memories, huh?” My teeth felt like they were gonna break in half at any moment.

“Change and get out, you can’t stay. Oh, and don’t forget to take your clothes this time,” I sternly stated before turning back around. I felt his hand wrap around my wrist. I froze momentarily at how quick he was. 

I turned to see Ging still shirtless, his pants unbuckled and his boxers exposed. I fought to keep my eyes locked on his, “You don’t have to be so sour with me.” 

I tried my best to stay composed. I sighed, “You disappeared for three months, no one could find you. No letters, no calls, nothing. You really expect me to not move on at all during a time like that?” 

His face dropped for a second before he raised one eyebrow slightly, “Move on?” He sounded like he didn’t believe me. 

I maintained my confidence, “Yes, move on. As in; I found someone else, someone more stable.” It was a lie. In reality, I hadn’t been able to talk to anyone, wasting each night staying up late with the hopes that Ging would come knocking at my door like he did tonight. However, somewhere in the last couple of weeks, the painstaking yearning turned into anger; I promised myself I’d slam the door on his face and tell him to suck one. I cursed myself for failing at the first part.

Ging tilted his head to the side, tch. “Who?” 

My body grew rigid since I knew Ging was able to see right through me, but I couldn’t stop here. “You wouldn’t know him, he’s just a regular, civilian office worker.” A cold sweat began to form on the back of my neck, why was I so nervous?  

A soft chuckle left his mouth, “So where is he?” He made a point to look around, pointing out that there was no reminder of any other man but him in my house.

“He travels a lot. Besides, we’re in the beginning of a relationship. We decided to take it slow and not leave our stuff at each others’ places,” I shrugged, trying to stay cool. Both of us knew this wasn’t true, we both knew there was no one else. I couldn’t help but to avoid his gaze. “Anyway, you can’t stay here, get moving,” I moved to grab the doorknob, but Ging’s hand on the door kept it from opening.

“So when he travels, it’s not an issue? We both do it for work?” He was teasing me. 

I sucked in a harsh breath, “Because he communicates. He tells me when he’s leaving, where he’s going, and he even talks to me during the trips,” my voice carried a harsh, sarcastic tone. Ging definitely knew that my words were quips at his behavior. 

His breath fell on the back of my ear, “How long are we gonna play pretend this time?” 

I huffed, resisting the urge to just give in right then and there. “Until you stop going ghost,” I complained, “I’m tired of your act, I want something more firm, something I don’t have to wait weeks to months for.”

Ging was silent for a moment, and at that time I felt like I could suddenly cry. It was just casual between us, always had been, but why now had my chest grown tight with aching hope that one day he’d stay. 

“I know that’s not what you’re looking for, you’re not looking to be stuck in one place, and that’s certainly not what I’m asking. In fact, I’d never ask for you to be tied down to one place; I know how much discovering new things in the world means to you, I could never take that away from you. But…” I rambled aimlessly to fill the heavy air with something other than silent breaths, “I can’t do this casual shit anymore. I’d like to be the one you’d come home to after doing whatever you hunters do.” No longer feeling like talking, my last sentence grew quieter. My forehead pressed against the door as I screwed my eyes shut, I wanted to evaporate with my confession. 

Ging’s lips wordlessly pressed lightly against the back of my neck as he slowly made his way to the slope of my shoulder. My face contorted into confusion, my chest began to rise and fall faster. “W-what are you doing?”

His hand slid down the door and onto my shoulder, pulling gently so I would turn around to face him. His eyelids hung low as we made eye contact. “Then let’s not do casual,” he husked. 

Confused on what he meant, I raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying?” 

Ging sighed as if the meaning was obvious, “You said that you couldn’t do casual anymore, and I’m saying then let’s stop doing casual stuff. We can be more… solid.”

I felt like my brain was going to short circuit. “Look,” he began again, “we can work out the specifics later, but what I’m saying is… if you want to try something more settled…” 

I wrapped my arms tightly around Ging’s neck, pressing my body tightly against him. He stumbled backwards at the sudden action, but his hands quickly fell around my waist. 

“I take it as that’s what you wanted to hear?” 

I bashfully flicked his arm, “You shouldn’t say it just because I want to hear it,” I pouted. 

He put one hand on my cheek to gently push my face to look back at him. “I meant it too though,” his voice was low. “Believe it or not, I do miss you when I’m gone,” he smiled a little. 

I felt my heart beat against my chest roughly at the confession. I rolled my eyes playfully, “Of course you’d miss me,” I smirked.

This time, Ging rolled his eyes. I waited for a response, however, both of Ging’s hands grasped firmly on my ass instead. My fingers pulled on the collar of his shirt as I let out a gasp of surprise.

“How arrogant,” he squinted his eyes at me.

“Now that’s hypocritical,” I deadpanned, my tone was still slightly playful— he was still calling the kettle black.

“You love how confident I am though,” he raised a brow as if he was inviting me to deny it. I wanted to, but Ging’s confidence was a turn on most of the time. 

Ging chuckled when I didn’t outright disagree. “But I know it wasn’t my confidence you missed,” his hands now snuck under my panties, fondling the lower half of my ass. My cheeks grew hot and I quickly buried my face into Ging’s shoulder.

“Aweee,” he tutted, “now you’re so shy.” He chuckled as one of his fingers ran between my pussy lips. He faked a gasp, “You’re so wet already! Is this why you try picking fights with me?” My breathing picked up at the sensation of his fingertips passing over my clit, lazily moving back and forth. 

Jaw pulled taut, I attempted to keep my sounds minimal. There was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction this easily at least. 

“Hm,” Ging hummed before plunging a finger inside of my wet hole. My breath hitched and my knees nearly buckled. “Whoa,” the male exclaimed as his other hand grasped my waist to steady me. Ging’s finger pumped in and out of me, and despite my earlier resolve, soft moans began pouring from my lips. 

“There we go,” his voice was low, “Why try to pretend that I’m not making your little pussy feel good?” I scowled at him, hating his fake pout. He just laughed and continued to pump his finger mercilessly into me. 

My thighs grew wet as my panties could no longer hold in my slick. cringed at the stickiness of the fabric, embarrassed at how easily Ging could turn me into a mess. He added a second finger, “Gotta prepare you again.”

I clamped down on Ging’s fingers, my moans growing loud as I felt a tightness beginning to form in my stomach. The last time I had a proper release was my last night with Ging, so I embarrassingly reached the start of my climax relatively quickly. 

Then, Ging pulled his hand away from my aching cunt. I whined at the sudden emptiness.

He chuckled while shaking his head, “Sorry doll, but I need you on my tongue, it’s been too long.” He was pushing my bottoms off before I could let out any more sounds of protest. 

Ging grabbed my hands and led me to my bed, I pretended to not notice his slick fingers. In one motion, he had pushed the clothes he was preparing to change into on the bed. Internally, I sighed at the thought of his dry clothes now becoming wet due to the contact with his old ones. 

“Face down,” Ging’s command brought me back to reality. 

“What?” I questioned sincerely.

Ging gave me a gentle tap on my ass, “Face down, ass up. And spread your knees.” My hands clenched and unclenched into fists as I climbed on top of the bed, trying to force away any timidity. I quickly spread my knees apart and hid my face. 

Ging gently pressed my face into the pillow. I felt my face grow unbearably hot at the exposed nature of the pose; my ass up and my legs spread wide open in front of his eyes. I bit down on the pillow, cringing. 

I sharply inhaled at the long brush of Ging’s tongue from my clit up to my perineum. My hand reached back, desperate to push him away. He grabbed my wrist and held my hand back, “Nuh huh,” he mumbled into my pussy, “I’m not stopping.” 

“B-be gentle!” I begged him. 

He gave a short snicker before pinning my arm to the bed, “Only nice girls get gentle sex, doll.” Ging continued to relentlessly lap at my aching cunt, his saliva and my slick starting to run down my thighs. “I gotta get that attitude out first.” 

My body temperature proceeded to grow with every movement of Ging’s tongue. I already felt the tightening from earlier reemerging within my stomach. My hips bucked earnestly onto Ging’s face, each whimper and moan giving him more and more encouragement to grow rougher with his tongue. 

The pillow wasn’t enough to muffle my struggling cries as I shook at the pressure releasing. Ging momentarily slowed down, allowing me to ride out my orgasm on his tongue peacefully. 

But he didn’t stop. And after a couple of laps, his tongue began to pick up the pace once more. 

I groaned at the unending licks, only to cry out at the reintroduction of Ging’s two fingers. He pressed them deeply into my cunt— he chuckled at the way I twitched when he went down to his knuckles.

Whimpering into the pillow, my eyes brimmed with tears now. I began to clamp down again, “Give me one more, let me know how good I’m making this pussy feel,” he fingered more aggressively, his thumb pressing roughly down on my clit. The thought of him watching me in such a state was hazing my mind. I wanted to tell him to look away, but the words would never leave my lips. It was always agitating that he could see how quickly I’d become undone for him.

The familiar feeling of my tightening stomach began to form once more. Ging groaned at the tightness from my walls clamping against his fingers. “Right there hm? Who’s making you feel good?” My cheeks burned from the question.

I searched my brain for the ability to form words, “Y-you…” I mumbled quietly into the pillow.

He curled his fingers harshly, my back arched and I cried out for him. “You!” I was gasping for air, my body felt like it was on fire. 

He let a short breath out of his nose, “And are you gonna cum for me?” 

I nodded my head quickly in response. I felt my eyes screw shut as the orgasm approached before my response could leave my lips. My legs shook as my hands pulled the sheets from their secured positions on my bed. I felt my slick run down my thighs once I finally began to regain the ability to think. 

“Good girl, you did so good for me,” he cooed softly while pulling out his fingers. I felt his body slide on top of mine, his chest pressing against my back. I lazily opened my eyes and glanced back at him. “Lick,” he commanded. I opened my mouth and obeyed. My tongue swirled around the digits as he thrusted his fingers in and out of my mouth. “So obedient once you’re done right.” He seemed content with himself.

Sharply I inhaled at the feeling of his cock rubbing up and down my sensitive clit. “Now you’re gonna lay here and get fucked out, right baby?” His warm breath was brushing against the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine. 

“Mhm,” I agreed, my face only half up from the pillow. The tip of his cock pressed against my hole, threatening to push further in at any moment. The anxiety built up in the lower half of my core while I clenched around the air. 

“Beg me for it, beg me to make you a mess,” one of his hands was in my hair, gently tugging to lift my head so I could speak clearly. 

My mouth still struggled over the words, “Please… p-please put your dick in me,” I whispered.

Tch, he sucked on his teeth. “You can do better than that,” his cock spread my pussy lips apart as he rubbed himself against me. The strokes were enough to drive me insane.

“Please fuck your cock into me Ging, please please please make me yours,” I pleaded, looking back to make eye contact with him.

His face broke out in a grin before he began to shove the entire length of his cock into me. I choked out a cry while my hands pulled harder on the sheets, desperate for something to cling on to. 

Gong’s hips moved without much time for me to once again get used to the size of his cock. His moves were slow and sort of gentle at first, but it only took a few thrusts for him to sing out a string of curses before snapping his hips into me. I screamed into the pillow at his aggressive and deep thrusts. 

“Look at you, ah fuck, taking me so well,” he pushed his body up and sat his hands on top of mine, intertwining our fingers. I tightened my grip around his fingers as my mind cleared everything but the feeling of sex; the way Ging’s skin bounced off of mine as he hit into my ass, the way sweat rolled off his body and onto mine, his tongue on my ear lobe to soothe the skin as an apology for biting too roughly. 

Sounds of our moaning and my cunt getting pounded filled the room. “Listen to how turned on you are,” Ging grunted. “Your pussy, fuck, is telling me— damn you feel so good, how much she missed me,” he let out a chuckle that was quickly interrupted by a moan.

The pornographic sounds of skin pounding against skin mixed in with the sounds of the pouring rain. I buried my face down further into the pillow, desperate to hide away from the wet noises my pussy made every time Ging thrusted in.

His hands traveled from my fingers to my elbows before he pulled my arms back gently to lift me off the bed. Ging’s strength always took me by surprise. 

“Don’t run away from it angel, I want you to hear it,” I could practically hear his ego skyrocketing with every moan he pounded out of me. My body felt too warm with embarrassment and arousal.

“I-I can’t for m-much longer,” I whined out. Ging just let out a low hum as his hips bucked harder into my poor cunt. I prayed my neighbors couldn’t hear; however if Ging caught on to me trying to keep quiet, he’d only go rougher. 

My walls clamped down tighter after every thrust, causing Ging to groan out and tighten his grip on my arms. I hissed at the new introduction of pain, I knew that they’d be red after this. I didn’t think about that for long though as the familiar feeling of yet another orgasm began to flow through my abdomen. My body began to tremble as I tried to fight off the sensation, not wanting to cum before Ging.

“Do it,” he snapped me out of my thoughts with a grunt; of course he could tell when I was close by this point, “Fucking cum for me— show me just how good I’m making you feel.” It was as if he had more control over my body than I did. With a choked out cry, I came. I whimpered and arched my back as he fucked me through my orgasm, not once slowing.

Relief quickly turned to overwhelming pressure as Ging continued to pound mercilessly into my pussy. He loosened his grip on my arms, allowing me to crash back into the pillows. One of his hands snaked down to the small of my back before he began to press down on the area for me to arch more. “Look at you now,” his patronizing tone caused me to weakly clench around his twitching cock. 

He was close now, I could tell by the way every other thrust would cause him to jerk more into me, or how his breathing was much more strained as his fingers tensed and relaxed. “Good fucking girl, you’re so good for me,” his hips snapped forward, “You were just so fucking pent up without me here, huh?”

I mewled in response, helpless under Ging as he began to press his body weight down onto me— his chest meeting my back. “Fuck fuck fuck,” his voice rung in my ear as his pelvis moved faster, jerking a couple of times before he bottomed out inside of me. My eyes fluttered closed in relief as the pounding stopped. 

He huffed a few times before slowly pushing himself up and off of me, careful not to pull all the way out. Slowly, he pulled me towards him. My body felt heavy as my muscles relaxed, but he made me feel weightless with how easy he could manhandle me. I lazily smiled as I felt his chest press against my back once more. 

We laid there for a few moments. Ging’s soft breathing along with the rain gently beating on my window was enough to cause me to become engulfed in sleep.

I woke up to an empty bed. An exhaustive sigh pushed past my lips as I held onto the pillow Ging slept on. “What did I really expect?” I spoke to the empty air. 

“Who are you talking to?” Ging’s voice caused me to jump up, he was leaning on the bedroom’s doorframe. I sat there with the pillow high above my head— I had stopped myself from throwing it at him. “Jeez, it’s just me; why are you so jumpy?” He grinned before walking over to the bed and sliding his body over mine. “Did you think I left?” 

I sucked on my teeth before rolling over, “Nah,” I tried to hide the smile spreading across my face. 

“You totally did!” He exclaimed. I felt my eye begin to twitch in annoyance.

“Did not!” I huffed, “There’s no way you’d leave after a night last night,” I said confidently.

“Huh,” he squeezed my waist slightly, “I remember that I was the one who did the fucking.” My jaw clenched as memories of last night washed over my brain. “Unless you wanna do it this time.” He pressed his stiffening cock into my backside. 

There was the subject of his chase, you. Sprawled out on the bed, lying on your stomach, scrolling on your phone. Shalnark watched you lying there. He hadn't seen you the last few days while he was off. Oh, how he missed this. He felt like a deprived animal, finally getting the meal it had been refused for days. His mouth watered. He treasured these moments with you. These brief periods of peace. Watching as you moved around your apartment. The way you went about your activities and routine. The way you sat on the couch crisscross. How you moved around your kitchen, listening to music as you cooked. The way you always jumped at the temperature of the shower, never learning your lesson of waiting outside the shower till the temperature was right. Or, like now, how you kicked your feet as you laid down. Shalnark found himself entranced with you. Falling for you over the months, he had been watching you. How could someone be so cute and innocent? You had no idea he was here, watching you in the dark. Enamoured with everything you did. You were clueless, just like the day he saw you.

Shalnark replayed that day. It was the first and last day he had actually spoken to you. He was out on a mission. A simple theft job of some artwork from some old millionaire. He had gone with a few troupe members. All he needed to do was get into the security system and find the blueprints for the house. Help create a smooth entrance and exit without drawing too much attraction. The job took barely an evening. While the others left, he stayed behind. Why not enjoy this cute little town? Stay for a few days, eat some good food. Shalnark decided to give himself a little vacation. A little vacation where he met you.

He had been out experiencing the uniqueness of the town. Taking in the architecture, the people, and the small shops. Entering them and enjoying the displays. One had a display of some puffer fish art and toys. He thought it was amusing how the suncatcher in the window had a puffed up fish with these wide eyes. Every day he walked past it to give himself a laugh. That was when he noticed, beside the store, was a coffee shop.

Ordering, he grabbed his drink, and he found himself a seat near the window. Watching as people shuffled in, out and about. Some sitting down and enjoying their drinks. Others hurry in and out. He enjoyed this, people watching, unwinding. Everyone was so different, living such a different lifestyle than him. So simple, so safe, so weak.

Shalnark laughed to himself. Thinking about how these people go along their day without anything interesting happening. They didn't have nen, they in reality had nothing. That was until you walked in. It was the second day of his little "rest." The coffee shop had the usual bustle when you walked in. At first, he didn't take notice too much. Sure, you were cute, but he wasn't here to flirt. He just wanted to relax and laugh at the shop windows.

You came in like anyone else. You sat down at a table and worked on your laptop like anyone else. Yet, after a while, he found himself having a hard time looking away. You looked so focused doing whatever it was you did. Making these faces he thought were cute. So focused, so intuned with what you were doing. Like the rest of the world was fading away. He admired that. He understood being into your work. You didn't even look up when the idiot a few tables down spilled his drink and let out a yelp. Your head still down, working away. How oblivious you were, it really wasn't safe. Someone could approach with ill intention so easily before you noticed.

Shalnark's mind began to wander. How close could he get before you looked up? How much danger would need to be around before you realized? If someone fell in front of you, would you look up then? He wasn't proud of how much mental space you took up, yet here he was. Thinking about some random girl in a coffee shop. A cute girl in a coffee shop.

That was how it started, small little thoughts that just spiraled. One became two, two became four. Thoughts on what would make you look up. Wondering how he could get your attention. It wasn't until the third day that he finally decided to give in. To allow himself to indulge in some of his thoughts. Turns out all he had to do was turn on his charm to get your attention. Smile, flatter, joke. Your smile was so pretty. The way your face glowed when you laughed at his joke. The scrunch in your nose when he made a bad but amusing joke. How you opened up so easily to him. It was fun having someone like this. He knew he had you after that day.

Sadly, he had only managed to get two coffee dates with you before Chrollo had requested his presence. He'd be lying if he said he was happy to leave. You had just become his new little play thing, his favourite little toy. Something controlled in a different way than his other toys.

Here he was, watching you on the screen. Laughing, enjoying life. Shalnark hated to admit he was getting upset that something besides him was pulling those gorgeous noises from you. Throwing his head back in his chair. The memories of the coffee shop flooded his mind. Shalnark pinched his nose, going over all those beautiful memories. The sounds, the jokes you two made. The way you would look at him, a complete stranger with so much enjoyment. His free hand began to make its way down his torso, undoing his belt. This was so wrong, so very wrong, but since when did he give a shit about right and wrong. He was a thief and a murderer, a phantom troupe member. What was right was whatever he wanted.

His hand was wrapped around his dick. Pumping like a depraved madman. Fuck, he missed you. Missed your beautiful smile. How you trusted him so much, a total stranger. You had given him your number after a few hours the first day. So foolish and cute.

He looked at the computer. You were still there, still on the bed kicking your legs. His eyes dragged across your body, from your head to your toes. The way your shoulders were pirked up as your forearms supported your upper body. The arch in your back made his mind race. Would you arch your back for him?

Shalnark began to move his hand faster. The way you displayed yourself on the screen, settled on your bed. Without a care in the world. You had no idea someone was watching you. That he had cameras all over your apartment to monitor you. To watch you eat, drink, get dressed, shower. He wanted to watch every little detail of your life. To observe how you lived. It was so different than his. You had the same day every day. Work, eat, rest, repeat. A sense of stability that was boring to him, but fun to watch.

Would you like some change? How would you react if your work had less stability? Would you travel with him for his work? His mind raced once again. Picturing you with him. Him coming back from a job to you waiting for him instead of an empty house. Waiting with your back arched just like now, warm, welcoming. His hand moved quicker, rougher. His breath picked up. He couldn't help the noises that left his lips. Moans of your name. Wanting, begging for you. He wanted you here, needed you here. You should be helping him, not his stupid hand.

"Morning, Renjun!" You chirped from behind the counter as you dried down a mug, the café already prepped for opening— you liked to take your time when doing the opening duties, and you found that coming in earlier helped avoid any unnecessary rushing on your end.

Renjun didn't say anything, opting to shut his eyes as he tilted his head to the ceiling. You didn't miss the tick of his jaw as he trudged towards you wordlessly, letting his bag fall from his shoulder to the shelf beneath the cash register.

"You know how to make a cloud latte," he muttered under his breath as he put on his apron, securing it tightly with a double knot behind his back. "Why am I here?"

Despite his less-than-enthused response, you grinned. You've been working with Renjun long enough to know that he's a little bit of a grump, so you didn't take his moodiness to heart.

"Hyuck's your best friend. It would make sense for him to ask you instead of anyone else," you reasoned lightly. "Plus, having company isn't so bad, is it? You'll be out the door before you know it!"

"Citizens are advised to stay indoors..."

Renjun lets out a groan as he lets his head hit the cabinet behind him. It hurts, but not as much as the migraine that's already beginning to form in his temples. And as if to add insult to injury (no pun intended), the sky lets out yet another guttural rumble, reminding him once more of his ill-stricken fate.

"I don't think Seoul's had a downpour this bad in ages," you remark from somewhere at the dining area. Renjun couldn't tell where exactly you are; he had slid down to the floor when he decided to accept his fate fifteen minutes ago, and his only view since are the bottles of syrup and unopened bags of coffee beans under the espresso machines.

And as if to add even more insult to injury, the two of you are the only ones left in the shop. With it being a Tuesday afternoon, most of your regulars are either at work or school. Renjun has never liked working during the rush hour, but God does he wish for that to be the case now.

He looks up when he sees your head pop above the counter, raising a brow at the smile on your face. He knows how awfully cheery you are, but even in a time like this? You must be crazy, he thinks.

"Isn't this nice? I never knew this café could get any cozier."

"Nice?" Renjun scoffs as he finally gets to his feet. "What about this is nice? We're stuck in, I don't know, what might as well be a Cat 5 hurricane, and you think it's nice?"

You roll your eyes, seemingly unbothered by his sharp tone. "You're so dramatic! I've been in one, you know? While I was on vacation in the States. It was a Cat 2, I think, and I promise this doesn't even come close to that! I mean, as long as we're not asked to evacuate, we should be fine-"

Renjun lets out a loud tsk, cutting you off as he unties his apron rashly, the fabric crumpling in his hand.

Your eyes widen when you register his movements. "You're not actually planning on leaving, are you?"

Renjun scoffs dryly in response. "You think I have a death wish?"

"Honestly? I could never tell when it comes to you."

He glares at you.

You quickly round the counter, successfully trapping him before he could escape to the break room. "Look, I'm sure it won't be too bad! Let's just continue to wait for updates. Coffee?"

"I hate coffee," he deadpans.

"You literally work in a café!" You laugh airily, moving to the teabag jars beside the espresso machines. Despite the heater being on, the coolness from the outside is starting to seep in, and you're sure Renjun could feel it too.

He doesn't say anything but huff under his breath as he leans against the cabinets behind him, taking out his phone from his back pocket. You take it that he's done with the conversation.

For a while, it's silent, the only sound apart from the tinkling of your metal spoon the harsh crashing of raindrops against the window panes outside. You think it's calming, but Renjun seems to think otherwise when you see him flinch from your periphery at the sudden flash that illuminates the room, soon followed by a loud boom of thunder.

Instinctively, you turn to him, but Renjun keeps his eyes fixed to his phone, his lips downturned into his usual frown.

"Did you know that lightning is hotter than the surface of the sun?" You remark, crossing the distance towards him with the mug of tea in your hands. Renjun looks up from his phone at your question, his stare blank, but his right brow raises slightly when he realises what you're offering.

He doesn't make the move to accept the mug as he pockets his phone, opting to cross his arms instead. "What are you doing?"

You tilt your head. "Huh?"

He nods towards the steaming mug in your hands. "What are you trying to do?"

"You said you don't like coffee, so I made you tea instead! It's Lemon Balm, known to reduce anxiety. It could also improve one's mood-"

"Yeah, so long as I'm still trapped in here, that's not gonna happen," he mutters, turning to face the window outside.

The rain is still as relentless as ever, the skies dark and gloomy despite it being daytime. If it was any other day, Renjun would have already been out the door, making his way home. A regular eight-hour shift is already treacherous enough on it's own— an eight-hour shift with you, while it's raining, on top of that, has got to be one of the worst things that's ever happened to Renjun in a while, which says a lot considering he's literally living in the same timeline as Lee Donghyuck.

Renjun turns to steal a glance at you, no longer at his side as you busy yourself with doing the dishes. As if just now never happened, you're back to humming to yourself, the song only sounding vaguely familiar to his ears. The cup of tea you made him is left abandoned on the counter, and for a split second he feels guilty for having not accepting it earlier.

You see, it's not like Renjun hates you. He's just indifferent, and that makes a huge difference. He's someone who prefers to keep to himself, a concept that you can't seem to fathom for some reason, and he finds your overtly-positive attitude equal parts annoying and draining. Renjun doesn't hate you— he just hates everything you embody, and that's enough to make him stay away.

"Look what I found!"

The last time Renjun heard your voice has to be around a few hours ago, when he decided to move from the counter to one of the couches in the dining area. It wasn't the most ideal considering the floor-length windows still gave him the perfect view of rain that he hated so much, but his legs were beginning to hurt from standing for so long and he didn't really want to sit on the floor and deal with your small talk any longer.

You must have gotten the hint when you decided to leave him alone, retreating to the break room to do God-knows-what— based on the grin on your face now, Renjun has a feeling that he's going to find out very soon.

You bound towards him, settling next to him with something in your hands. Your eyes instantly land on the sketchbook on his lap, but before you could say anything, like utter out a compliment on his drawing, Renjun snatches the pad away from your sight.

"What?" He grunts, cheeks feeling slightly warm for some reason. He had abandoned his phone some time earlier, deciding to peruse his sketchbook to pass the time. It was a good thing he brought it out everywhere he went— as awful of a situation he's stuck in, at least he has something familiar to keep his sanity in check.

Your grin grows wider (Renjun wonders how that's even possible) before you set a box between the two of you.

"I was bored, right? So I figured I'd clean out the break room to pass the time, and I found this! Johnny must have left it here and forgot about it."

Renjun studies the blue box, the words HALLI GALLI staring back at him in bold, yellow font. Oh, hell no. You're the last person he wants to play a card game with— not just because you're you, but also the fact that he just doesn't fare well with games in general.

It's not like Renjun is bad at them— if anything, it's quite the opposite, but the last time he played Halli Galli, he had almost gotten into a fistfight with his friends (he had to receive a kiss penalty from Donghyuck even though he won because Mark kept making up rules as they went along). Needless to say, all their game nights now require the presence of a moderator (not like that has done much anyway considering Jaemin hates intervening in literally anything ever, so Renjun doesn't know why they still try).

"I'm not playing this with you."

"Aw, why not? It's fun! Even for serious people like you," you tease, but Renjun doesn't laugh. Ignoring him, you continue, "we could make the most of this quiet time together."

"Nothing about today has been quiet," Renjun mutters. He's pretty sure you heard him, but you simply brush it off as you open the box, letting the cards fall on the sofa while you place the bell in the middle.

Renjun huffs, knowing he isn't left with a choice. You're adamant, he realises, and even if he weren't to give in now, he knows he'd have to eventually, and he'd rather deal with this now than later on.

You start the game, putting down a card of two coconuts before you glance at Renjun, waiting for him to complete his turn. He does the same (albeit much less enthusiastic than you), his card flipping to the other side to reveal four strawberries.

The game continues on that way, with you practically at the edge of your seat as you anticipate every next move. You had just put down three bananas, and your eyes are fixed on Renjun's hands as he slowly flips his card to reveal... two bananas.

You yelp, palm quickly outstretching to hit the bell, and despite Renjun's obvious disinterest in the game (or so you thought), you're surprised to learn that he's just as quick, his hand clashing against yours as you fight to ring the bell at the same time.

"I definitely got that one!" You proclaim proudly, to which Renjun scoffs.

"No way, you're barely even on the bell!"

"Nuh-uh, look! Your hand is literally on top of mine!" You wriggle your fingers for good measure, causing Renjun to look down at your hand— both of your hands, which are still on the bell. You were right; while most of your palm is covering the bell, only the tips of his fingers are touching the metal surface, the rest of his skin resting idly on the back of your hand. He's never really noticed how tiny your hands are— it's not like he's that huge of a guy to begin with— and the thought somehow brings an unexplainable flush to his face.

He quickly removes his hand, carding through his deck for the sole purpose of having something to do before passing you a card. "You just got lucky," he mutters, clearing his throat.

You giggle. "No, I'm just that good," you sing, waving the card mockingly in front of his face before putting it together with your deck.

Renjun rolls his eyes. You remind him so much of Donghyuck; it's a wonder how he isn't your best friend.

"I used to play this game a lot when I was younger," you quip randomly in the midst of the next round. You do that a lot, Renjun realises, stating facts he didn't ask for when it gets too quiet. It used to leave him not knowing how to react, but if there's anything Renjun has learnt about you in this limited time you've spent together, is that you don't need a response from him to continue talking, so he doesn't say anything.

"I'm an only child, so visiting my grandparents in Jeju was the only time I'd get to hang out with my cousins. We'd do everything together— even stay up late and wake up early the next morning so no time would be wasted. It was a wonder how we never ran out of things to do," you chuckle to yourself, fiddling with the cards in your hand.

"One time, it started to rain super heavily— kind of like right now, actually— all while we were cycling outside. Instead of seeking shelter, we decided to play in the rain. We got home freezing our toes off and I fell sick the next morning, but it was so worth it. I wouldn't trade that moment for anything else," you trail off softly, and Renjun doesn't miss the twinge of longing in your voice. At this point, the game had been long abandoned, your attention now fixed on the rain outside and Renjun on you. You turn to him, the fond smile still playing on your lips, and that is what causes him to look away, only then realising that he had been staring.

"What about you?"

Renjun's brows knit in confusion. "Huh?"

"You don't seem to like the rain very much."

"Yes, because it inconveniences people. Kind of like the situation we're in right now, don't you think?" His tone comes off as a little snappy, but before Renjun could regret it, you're already beaming at him in response. He wonders if you're ever capable of any other emotion apart from happiness.

"Sure, but look at where it brought us! Two friends, bonding, towards becoming even better friends!"

Nevermind. He doesn't feel bad anymore, not when he remembers that this is who he's dealing with right now. Plus, the term friends is a little bit of a stretch, isn't it? He doesn't know anything about you apart from the fact that— well, you're an only child and that your grandparents live in Jeju. He doesn't even know your last name, and he'd like to think that that should be the minimum requirement before considering someone a friend.

He rolls his eyes as he lazily throws his last card, ready to wrap up the game, only to perk up when he sees his lone strawberry face-up with four of yours. Quickly, he reaches forward to ring the bell, grinning in triumph when he realises you hadn't gone head-to-head this time.

"A-ha! I win!" Renjun smirks proudly, too caught up in his victory to realise that he's smiling. It falters when he notices you staring at him— not in defeat, but something much... softer. It looks similar to when you were recounting your memories with your family in Jeju. It looks like Jaemin when he's scrolling through pictures of his three cats in his gallery. It looks like Mark... when he's on FaceTime with his girl whenever they do long-distance.

Suddenly, Renjun could no longer hear the rain thumping harshly against the window next to him. He could no longer see the lightning that comes in flashes, nor does he flinch at the thunder that follows. Only two words form in his head:

Oh, shit.

lee donghyuck [3:41pm] yowww 🔥🔥🔥 [3:53pm] r u alive? lol [4:02pm] wait no like actually r u???? [4:22pm] pls tell me ur sfae omg im gonna start sobbinf and cryin rn dont evne [4:46pm] HUANG RENJUN [5:12pm] NAWWW we really lost an angel today.... jun i hope ur looking up at us 🙏🙏🙏

huang renjun [5:24pm] UP???

lee donghyuck [5:24pm] oh hey lol [5:24pm] wyd

Renjun utters a curse under his breath as he switches to his phone app, bringing the device to his ear immediately after he dials Donghyuck's number. It rings twice before the boy picks up.

"Injun-ah!" Donghyuck's voice is hoarse— so he wasn't lying about being sick. That doesn't make Renjun any less annoyed, though. "I was so worried-"

"Cut the shit, Hyuck. Did you know?"

Donghyuck is silent before he replies, as though carefully choosing his next words. "... Know what?"

"That she likes me."

"That who likes- oh my God. Did she tell you already?" If it's even possible, Donghyuck's already-naturally nasally voice sounds even more annoying now that he's excited while sick.

"What?" Renjun hisses into his phone, glancing around the room to make sure he wasn't too loud. Granted, he's currently alone in the men's room and he's 90% sure you aren't outside eavesdropping, but he could never be too careful. "So it's true?"

"I mean, only because she was so fucking obvious," Donghyuck snickers before he breaks out into a fit of coughs. "I'm surprised it took you this long to notice."

Renjun groans. "How the hell was I supposed to know? She talks to everyone the same way!"

"Dude, have you seen the way she looks at you? It's like when Jaemin looks at Luke, Lucy, and Lu-"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it, alright?" Renjun grumbles. "Shit, what should I do now?"

"Um, nothing? It's not like you're even supposed to know that she likes you," Donghyuck quips plainly. "Dude, why are you even freaking out? Wait- do you like her back?"

"No!" Renjun exclaims, a little too quick for his own liking. Maybe it's because he could practically see the teasing smirk on his friend's lips, or maybe it's just the suggestion that sounds so fucking absurd he had to shut it down immediately. "It's just- look, I've been nothing short of mean to her this entire time so I kinda feel bad, alright? Why would she even like me like that? I mean- is she some sort of masochist, or something?"

Donghyuck guffaws, clearly not about to let his embarrassing stuttering slide. "Okay? And why are you so worried? Since, you know, you don't like her like that and all."

"You're hopeless," Renjun mutters, not bothering to bid Donghyuck goodbye before he hangs up. He should've known that the boy is the last ever person he should seek advice from; Jaemin would have made for a better candidate.

But calling Jaemin now would only be suspicious, and Renjun knows it would only be a matter of time before you would knock on his door to ask if he's doing alright— because that's just who you are as a person.

Huh, maybe he does know you better than he thought.

Renjun has long given up hope that he'd be going home tonight. The thunderstorm is still as relentless as ever, the skies growing even darker now that the sun has set. The café is bathed in a warm light, and under a different circumstance he would've found it cozy.

You're situated behind the counter now, probably having moved there when he was in the restroom. Instead of going back to the couch, Renjun finds himself heading towards you. He doesn't know why.

"Forecast says the rain won't stop until morning." You don't look at him as you say this, and Renjun quickly notices the two cups of instant noodles you're currently busying yourself with, the rising steam swirling lazily in the air. You only turn to him once you're done mixing the noodles, a sympathetic smile on your face. "Looks like we'd have to stay the night."

"You sound oddly sad for someone who claims to love the rain." Against his better judgement, the words slip out of his mouth. Renjun thinks it must have something to do with his conversation with Donghyuck earlier, because why does he feel like he's being weird all of a sudden?

You merely shrug, handing one of the cups to him. This time, he accepts it, and Renjun tries not to flinch at the feeling of your fingers brushing against his.

"Well, I still do! If I could, I'd run outside right now and play in the rain, but the news just issued a lightning alert and I'd rather not risk getting struck, you know. Besides, staying inside isn't all that bad," you quip lightheartedly, a small grin on your face as you bring your chopsticks to your lips, blowing on your noodles lightly.

Renjun doesn't say anything, his brows only furrowing at your response. How is it that you're still so cheery even after everything that's happened? It's as though you didn't just find out that you're literally stranded here with no way home until the next morning.

The room illuminates momentarily when thunder strikes, and this time, Renjun does flinch. If he wasn't already holding on to his cup of noodles so tightly, it would have already spilled all over him. Clearly, you notice, and you don't look away quickly enough to act like you didn't.

"You know, I've learnt recently that a lightning bolt is only as wide as your thumb, but it could stretch on for miles," you say as you swallow your food, showing a thumbs-up as you grin at him playfully. "It's kind of crazy, right? How something so small could be so powerful?"

Renjun clenches his jaw, shutting his eyes momentarily. "Alright," he mutters, placing his cup on the counter. "Why do you keep doing that?"

You raise your brows, lowering your hand. "Doing what?"

"That. Every time it gets loud and I- I startle, you tell me some random fact, as if it's going to magically drown out the thunder."

"Well, it works, doesn’t it? It’s my secret technique to distract you! And think about it this way: every time it thunders, I get to share a cool tidbit with you. Like how lightning can strike the same place twice!”

"Yeah, because that makes me feel so much better," Renjun mumbles, though he finds that the edge in his voice has softened.

"Oh, relax." You roll your eyes jokingly. "Lightning only often hits tall structures like trees or skyscrapers, so you’re safe here with me.”

He scoffs. "Tall? Is that a jab?"

You gape, and you fear that you've struck a nerve within him. "N-No! I mean, I'm just saying! You're probably just not tall enough to worry about it, unless you're like, I don't know, Yao Ming or something," you start to ramble. "Even then, did you know that the tallest man in the world is a whole foot taller than him? I guess he would have a higher chance of getting struck by lightning, then, wouldn't he? Or not, considering, well, you know, he's dead. I don't-"

You're cut off when you feel a palm cover your lips, and your eyes widen at the contact. Renjun stares at you, unimpressed.

"You," he starts. "Talk too much. You know that?"

With his hand still over your mouth, you're unable to reply— even if it wasn't, you doubt you could, anyway. His skin against yours brings a warmth to your neck and cheeks, and you could only hope he couldn't see how bright red you're sure you are.

You nod your head slowly.

Renjun scoffs, finally dropping his hand as he glances to the window behind you. If you weren't already staring at him so intently, you would've missed the slight upturn of his lips. "Wow. So not only am I terrified of the storm, I'm short, too?" He shakes his head, half-amused.

"Hey, you said it, not me!" You exclaim defensively, feeling much more relieved now that you've seen him smile. You wonder if he's aware of how pretty his smile is. "Though for the record, I think you're the perfect height!" You pause, "f-for dodging lightning, of course!"

Renjun didn't like how the first half of your sentence made his heart beat faster. If only he were any closer, he'd hear your heart beating just as fast, too.

"You kids hang on tight, alright? There are blankets in the break room if you need them— and keep me updated!"

You've been in contact with your boss since the lockdown announcement hours ago, and despite your last message telling him that you and Renjun are alright, it seems that it's just in Johnny's nature to be overly-concerned as his worried face now flashes on your screen.

"We're alright, Boss, we promise!" You say for the umpteenth time. "This shop's stable enough to withstand a strike or two I'm sure, so we'll see you tomorrow morning!"

"Don't joke about that," Renjun hisses, nudging your arm with his elbow. He turns to the screen again. "We'll be sure to give you hourly updates."

At this, Johnny seems a little more at ease. You bid your boss goodbye, and the café soon falls into a silence, with only the humming of the lights and distant rumbling in the skies to keep you company.

"So... should we get ready for bed?" You ask, slapping your thighs as you stand up from the couch. For some reason, it feels awkward. You've long grown accustomed to Renjun and his lack of words, but somewhere along the way today, it seems that the air between you two has shifted— for better or for worst, you couldn't really tell— and you're not sure if you could salvage it.

You've always liked Renjun— of course you have— but today, it feels more impossible to contain your feelings with nobody else around. You like to think that you were good at hiding it all this while (despite what Donghyuck says), but right now, you're not so sure if you could spend a second longer with Renjun without accidentally blowing your own cover.

"I'll go grab the blankets," he says quietly, snapping you out of your reverie before ushering away to the break room. You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding, turning around to face the couch. Surely, your feelings could wait, because right now, there's only one thing that matters more: your sleeping arrangement.

You bend down to grab the couch by the armrest, pulling it further towards the middle of the dining area. With it being originally situated right by the window, you figure it wouldn't make for such an ideal (or safe) makeshift bed.

"What are you doing?"

You huff, returning to your original height to see Renjun by the door of the break room, a bundle of plaid blankets in his hands. He has a brow raised— you notice he does that a lot when looking at you— and you laugh meekly.

"Just, you know. Wouldn't wanna get struck by lightning, or anything like that."

He rolls his eyes (again, something he does a lot when it comes to you) as he makes his way towards you, letting the blankets fall on the sofa. "You can take the couch. Probably should lay one of these out first, though. Not sure how many butts have been on there."

Usually, you would have laughed at his comment, but this time, you find yourself tilting your head in confusion instead. "Where are you gonna sleep?"

Renjun shrugs. "The chair works fine for me."

You frown. Taking one of the blankets, you spread it out before letting the fabric fall over the couch. "The chair? There's no way you'd be comfortable like that! Look, the couch is big enough for the both of us. We'd have to stay seated, of course, but that's better than sleeping in a chair, right? Or would you rather we take turns?"

Renjun scoffs. "What? We're not in an apocalypse. There's no need for night watch."

Still, you stall, and it causes him to sigh. Renjun steps towards you, gently planting his hands on your shoulders before guiding you down onto the sofa. "Gosh, you're stubborn. Just take the couch, alright? It's not like I'm planning on sleeping, anyway."

The last part of his sentence comes out in a low murmur, but you still catch it.

"What do you mean you're not planning on sleeping?" You echo, and based on the flash of panic that crosses his face, you're sure he hadn't mean to let that one slip.

"I mean, with the storm and all," Renjun explains stiffly, glancing away. "I'm just saying, there's no way I'd be able to sleep with all that noise."

You gape slightly before your lips transform into a grin. "Could I interest you in another fun fact, then?"

Renjun groans loudly, and you find yourself giggling at his response. And when you hear the low chuckle that escapes his lips, you find your heart swelling at the sound of his laugh.

"Seriously, let's just share, alright? Look, I'll even stay up with you! I won't talk if you don't want me to, though."

Renjun finally gives in, sitting at the other end of the couch. "When has that ever stopped you?"

Noting the lack of bite in his voice, you grin. "Touché."

Eventually, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, and for the first time in a while, you don't feel the need to make conversation. You've never been one to be able to stay quiet for very long; clearly, Renjun is someone who does, and today, you learn that it really isn't all that bad.

Renjun steals a glance towards you, but you have your eyes fixed on the rain outside, a small smile still tugged on your lips. It looks like you're watching a movie, the floor-length windows a giant movie screen, and the flashes of lightning the different scenes bouncing off your features. He must have missed the thunder that comes afterwards, only realising it when you turn to him with that stupid, pretty smile still on your lips.

"Uh," Renjun stutters, having been caught off-guard at the sudden eye contact. He quickly looks away. "You don't have to do this."

You tilt your head. "Do what?"

"Stay up with me. You should get some rest."

You laugh, and Renjun wonders if it's always sounded this beautiful. "Don't be silly! I don't mind. I know you're gonna chide me for saying this, but it's kinda nice. I can't remember the last time I stayed up to watch the rain," you pause before turning to him. "You're probably gonna hate me forever for making you endure both a thunderstorm and my chatter in one night," you say teasingly.

"That's not true," he says quietly, only belatedly hoping that you hadn't heard him. Clearing his throat, Renjun turns to his right where his messenger bag lies, taking out his sketchbook he had haphazardly stuffed inside earlier. He flips it open, feeling your curious eyes on him as he looks for the page he had been working on.

"The rain looks better on paper for me," he explains awkwardly. "You know, since we're on the topic of likes and dislikes."

Renjun feels you scoot towards him, and he hates that he could feel the warmth emitting from your side even despite the blanket that envelops your shoulders.

"That's so pretty," you say in awe as you study the drawing. Despite it being so simple, nothing but a rough sketch of a window pane covered with rain drops, you still find yourself marvelling at the intricacy of it all. You could barely even write a whole essay legibly, yet here Renjun is, crafting a whole masterpiece with nothing but a blue ballpoint pen. "I wish I had an ounce of your talent. You're amazing, Renjun."

Even though he's no stranger to getting compliments for his works, it somehow feels different coming from you. It's probably because of how intimate it is— you and him, cramped on a couch in a barely-lit café with your arm pressing into his side— that's all there is to it, right?

But as he turns to you, taking in the stars that seem to dance in your eyes and the pink hue that dusts your cheeks even in the dark, Renjun starts to wonder if maybe, it's more than that. If maybe, the way his heart is stuttering isn't because of the setting, but you— only you.

With the way Donghyuck's question from earlier still plays in the back of his head like a broken record, Renjun knows that it's the truth.

✦ ✦ ✦

With it being late into the night, the two of you lapse into silence, too tired to keep a conversation going, but still very much awake— as though under an unspoken agreement to not fall asleep.

The rain has reduced significantly and the thunder has lessened, nothing but an occasional low rumble in the distance, but every now and then you'd still feel Renjun tensing from next to you.

“You know, statistically, you’re more likely to get struck by lightning than win the lottery,” you mumble sleepily, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Renjun lets out a soft chuckle. “Comforting,” he replies, though there’s no real edge to his voice. “So, basically, I’m doomed.”

“Not while I’m here,” you say through a yawn. “Consider me your good luck charm.”

Renjun shakes his head, but there’s a softness in his expression now, something warm and unspoken passing between you. The couch creaks slightly as you both shift to get more comfortable. Your cheek brushes slightly against his arm, but Renjun doesn't pull away. In your half-conscious state, you barely feel his arm circle behind you, pulling you closer towards him as he guides your head to rest on his shoulder.

"Then I guess I'd have to keep you around for every storm."

Click.

That's the sound you wake to, the sun that hits your eyelids being the second thing to rouse you from your slumber. You stir, your cheek brushing against something soft that only makes you want to sleep even more, but the sound of suspicious giggling causes you to open your eyes.

Your bleary vision lands on Donghyuck, who's currently standing before you with a cheshire-like grin, his phone in his hands.

"Don't you two look cozy?" He coos, tapping on his screen once more before his phone produces another click.

Finally registering what's happening, you jolt awake, only belatedly realising the oh-so-soft material to be Renjun's clothed chest. You must have fallen asleep on him sometime during the middle of the night, and you can't figure out what's more embarrassing: that, or the fact that Donghyuck has proof of said... intimacy.

"Lee Donghyuck! You better not post that!" You yelp, jumping off the couch to reach for his phone, only to fail as he waves his arm in the air, cackling manically.

Renjun finally stirs at the noise. “What’s going on?” he mumbles groggily, only to frown when he registers what you and Donghyuck are doing.

You whip to turn to Renjun, almost tripping in the process, throwing him an apologetic glance. “N-Nothing! Just- uh, a little misunderstanding!”

Donghyuck lowers his arm, tongue poking out of his lips as he types rapidly on his phone. “Oh, I’m definitely sharing this. Aw, you two are so adorable!”

Renjun groans. "Fuck off, Hyuck, seriously." He stands up, picking up his bag before stuffing all his belongings inside. "Ignore him. Let's go."

You giggle, your own embarrassment seeping away when you realise just how flustered he is. "Renjun, wait-"

"Nope, not waiting," he mutters, the tip of his ears noticeably pink as he slings his bag over his shoulder. "We're leaving before this asshole gets anymore material." He shoots Donghyuck a glare, who only waves a hand mindlessly.

"I may be an asshole, but at least I'm not delusional. Seriously, guys, it's painful watching you pretend like you're not into each other!" He cries dramatically, and Renjun's eyes widen before he forces another warning stare to his friend.

"Thanks for the unsolicited advice, Hyuck," he mutters, hoping his voice didn't waver too much, before quickly grabbing your arm and leading you to the door. "We're leaving."

"Have a good day, lovebirds!" Donghyuck sings, and Renjun flashes him a middle finger with his free hand without turning around.

You couldn't help but to laugh as you let him drag you out to the sidewalk, the cold outside air hitting your skin for the first time since yesterday. It's no longer raining, but the streets are still wet from the overnight storm, and it helps in cooling your own burning cheeks.

Renjun finally releases you when you're a little further away from the café, turning to face you with a sigh. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbles, his cheek still painted red, and you wonder how it's possible for him to be this cute, grumpiness and all.

"It's okay." You bite your bottom lip to suppress a grin, and Renjun smiles at you weakly.

There's a moment of silence between you two before Renjun clears his throat awkwardly. "He's right, you know?"

"Hm? About what?" You ask, slightly taken aback by his sudden soft tone.

Renjun shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his voice quiet. “About… me being into you. Wait, that came out weird." He stumbles over his words, and you merely beam at him as you give him time to compose himself.

"It's just— I know I haven't been the nicest to you, and I know it may sound crazy, but I had this whole revelation yesterday that I do have feelings for you— and I promise this isn't just a fleeting thing because of the storm— I genuinely think you're really cool."

You don't say anything, only a soft smile playing on your lips, and that causes Renjun to panic.

"I mean, I know I've been a jerk to you, and I know this isn't an excuse, but I just didn't know how to-"

You cut him off by leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, effectively halting his words. His mouth hangs open slightly, eyes wide as he stares at you in disbelief, his face flushing.

When you pull back, you couldn't help but laugh softly at his stunned expression. “You're rambling,” you tease with a playful smile.

He coughs out a small laugh. "Yeah, sorry. Guess I was." The smile stays on his face this time as he meets your eyes. "So... does that mean you're not compelled to the idea of going on a date with me?"

"Nope. Not at all." You rock between your heels and toes, already feeling the excitement bubbling in your chest. You like to think that you're doing a much better job at keeping your composure, but you're sure anyone could see just how bright red you are. "I think I'd really like that, actually."

Renjun's eyebrows raise before his expression eases into one of relief, and for the first time, a large smile graces his lips. You think you might just have a new favourite thing now— one that easily tops the rain.

working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.

you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.

on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.

you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.

the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.

so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.

sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?

you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.

you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.

the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?

you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.

you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.

after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”

“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.

“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”

“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”

“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”

“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.

mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.

“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.

“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”

“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”

“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”

“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”

“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”

“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.

“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.

“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”

“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”

“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”

“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”

he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”

“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.

for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?

you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.

you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.

you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.

“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”

you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. “it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.

he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”

he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.

“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”

“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”

“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.

“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.

“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.

“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”

you smile and accept it.

your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.

you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.

like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.

“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.

“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”

“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.

“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”

“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.

“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.

you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”

“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.

“you didn’t have to do that—”

“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”

you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.

“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.

“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.

“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”

“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”

you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.

sent 10:17 am omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin

you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.

sent 10:18 am mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick mark: you’re gonna love it

you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.

the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.

“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”

“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”

“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”

“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”

“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”

“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”

“i will.”

the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.

it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.

he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.

after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.

you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.

you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”

mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”

you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.

he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”

“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.

you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it’s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.

after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.

“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.

“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”

“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”

“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.

“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.

“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”

he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”

you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.

there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.

you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.

you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.

you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.

it’s you.

the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.

it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.

“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”

mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.

“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”

“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”

“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”

“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“of course i like it,” you say.

“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.

“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”

mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”

mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.

a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.

“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.

he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.

he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.

his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—

“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.

you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.

“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”

he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”

“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.

suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.

he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.

you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—

“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.

he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.

he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.

he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—

“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—

“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.

his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.

“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.

you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.

“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.

“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.

it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.

“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”

“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”

all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.

his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—

“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”

“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.

with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.

“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”

he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.

he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—

“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.

“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”

he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.

he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.

his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.

he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—

“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.

he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.

and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.

“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.

he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.

“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.

“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”

“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.

“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.

“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.

“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.

a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

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“Why do you sunbathe in the middle of your front yard like… every single afternoon?” You asked Eunseok upon taking the usual five second walk from your porch to his, only to find him once again in his natural habitat.

“Because,” he begins plainly, already provoking you to roll your eyes at him, “I just find that it always gets your attention…”

Your boyfriend was a strange man, and perhaps that’s what truly captivated you about him…

Slowly, the tall and lanky boy peeled his round eyes open to meet your frame, thankful in his heart for your figure blocking the afternoon sunlight from partially blinding him—

“Why do you carry that children’s book around with you everywhere you go?” Eunseok shot back similarly to your previous offense, and you find yourself taken aback by his question.

Touché, you think to yourself, and a cloud luckily moves in front of the sun now, stopping its bright days from overheating your back.

“I’m actually doing a school project for my little sister,” you started, and he quirked a shocked brow at you as you continued, “she’s still in the hospital, so I figured this I’d the least I could do to help her stay ahead in class …”

“Oh, that’s sweet then… well, not the hospital part, but—”

“I get what you mean,” you giggle in response before joining the space beside him in the grass, “thanks, anyway, though…”

“Don’t mention it,” he yawns briefly while out-stretching his long limbs on the pasture, turning his head to face you with a seemingly plain expression aside from the gentle look in his eyes. “How’s she doing, ____?… Honestly?…”

Your boyfriend’s question makes you fall silent for a moment, but only because you never even thought about the answer to that yourself.

Your sister had been in treatment for longer than you cared to keep count of by now, but at the very least, shehadn’t lost her smile yet; hopefully, a promising sign…

“She’s okay, Eunseok…” you say softly, and he simply nods in response, hoping in his heart that your answer held some integrity.

His gaze leaves your face now as he lets out a relaxed sigh, and without thinking, your index finger starts to trace a line across his hairline.

Then, with a clawed hand, your fingers sink into the threads of his platinum hair, gently scratching at his scalp as if massaging him…

“If you had any clue as to how dirty my hair is right now, you would not be touching me,” Eunseok says, but only as a way to hide his growing smile at the way you gazed down at him… eyes all soft and full of sickening love…

“I’m always touching you, Eunseok,” you say, leaning down to kiss the center of his head, “and it’s not like a little dirt could ever change that…”

Your boyfriend swallowed dryly beneath you, and the moisture that your kiss left on his skin lingers as the focus of his mind for way too long—

“Hey,” you say, and only because he’s getting up on his knees now, flashing you an all-too-telling look while dusting the bits of grass from his clothes, “Eunseok, I literally just sat next to you—”

“And I’m literally already horny,” he interrupts, hair a shaggy mess on his head as he caresses the side of your face before kissing your jaw, “I missed you, darling…”

You gave him a knowing look before asking, “Me or just fucking me?…”

“Hmm,” he hummed in thought, only to shrug his shoulders and say, “A bit of both, I guess…”

Standing up completely now, he takes your hand and guides you to his front door step before twisting the golden knob, “I have something to show inside after this, by the way, so don’t let me forget…”

“Noted,” you say sarcastically, and his hand gives yours one last tug before finally pulling you all the way inside the house, closing the door behind you two.

He leads you past his antique kitchen, through the dining room hallway, and up to the storage room right below the staircase.

“Why not your bedroom?” You ask quietly as he shoves you in the room, joining the dark space before locking the door with a key he held in his back jean pocket.

“Because,” he says, like he always did, already getting started on undoing his belt buckle and zipper, “I haven’t cleaned my room in forever and don’t wanna risk having a rat to run over your foot while you’re sucking my dick or something…”

You chuckle at your boyfriend’s words before swatting his hands from the center of his pants, wanting to take the rest of his bottoms off for him.

“You really require no guidance, huh?” Eunseok remarks with a smirk, somewhat impressed by your general aptness to get his clothes off without him even having to ask or direct you…

“Only when it comes to this,” you return, taking a moment to caress his hardening length over the fabric of his boxers first before finally shimmying them down and out the way.

He appears to be a bit shy now as his cock springs up, dangling just a few centimeters from your pretty face.

Though, you know it’s only because he can see everything… typically, Eunseok preferred to have the lights completely off whenever you two were fooling around, but you had been trying to break that timidness in him for a while…

“You okay?” You ask while kneeling before him, caressing the sides of his tense thighs as if to calm him, but he doesn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he responds by cupping the sides of your face with his hands, and they’re so large that they take up all the space at each side of your skull.

It makes you feel small and dainty, reminding you that your big boyfriend was truly a soft and tender guy at heart.

“Just make sure you take your time so you don’t choke, baby,” he finally says, and your stomach flutters at the way his thumbs smooth over your cheek as if his massive cock isn’t dangling in your face right now.

Your lips waste no time in securing themselves around his tip, and your tongue rests at the underside of his shaft as he slowly pumps your head, twitching in your mouth at the delicious warmth you provided.

His eyes flutter shut once he feels pleasure traveling all the way up into his abdomen as he makes your mouth his personal fuck toy, provoking you to dig your nails into his hips slightly… not because he’s going too hard, but because you want him to look you in the eyes as you take him.

Gurgling sounds fill the room as your vision catches sight of the little veins trailing his toned pelvis, and you swear you feel yourself getting wet just from sucking him…

His body had always been a visual feast for you, especially when his facial features were taken over with a look of lust that complemented his beauty perfectly.

You feel like your hands could go on forever as they keep caressing his thighs, the expanse of his limbs extending farther than your arms could ever reach.

“Fuck baby, you’re taking me so well,” he grunts while thrusting his hips into your face, and it doesn’t take long for his hands to leave the side of your head, noticing how eager you were to take over now.

You release your head with a wet smack, jerking the base of his slimy cock as you know you won’t be able to fit it all into your mouth given how hard he was.

Going back in, you manage to deep throat about half of his length, using your palm to stimulate the rest of it…

He’s leaning back against a shelf as you continue to blow him, and he can’t help but throw his head back at the feeling of his tip hitting the gummy pallet of your throat.

“Mmm,” you hum around his cock, and the vibrations make his hips chase his orgasm desperately, thrusting up into your mouth as a bit of spit drips along his balls now, making him feel all dizzy.

“Ahhh~ just like that, baby… ‘m gonna cum,” he mumbles through a whiny grunt, and you speed up the strokes of your hands and the bobbing of your head until you finally feel it; his creamy load bursting in your mouth as his hips stutter before you, twitching from the intense pleasure.

He’s biting his lip so hard that it makes him wince even more, but only because your soft, glistening lips keep pumping him, and the continuous stimulation makes him feel weak in the knees.

“Baby- fuck… n-not too much,” he groans in a deep voice that rumbles all the way to your mouth, and his eyes look so vulnerable to you, even though he’s looking down from so high…

You finally release your mouth from his pulsating cock, a bit of his cum dribbling down the corner of your mouth that he helps you clean up with the tip of his cock before shoving it back into your mouth.

He mutters a praise under his breath that you don’t quite catch over the sounds of your soppy mouth sucking him dry, his large hand stroking over your head again until eventually pulling you away, and leaning down to kiss you… hard…

The two of your tongues intertwine as he whispers, “you’re too good to me, ____,” against your lips, but it doesn’t last for long as he doesn’t wanna get himself hard all over again.

You stand up to meet him where he stood, and he braces you with a hand to your lower back, knowing that your legs likely felt a bit numb from being on your knees for so long.

“Should I…?” He begins, letting his free hand trail from the center of your breasts and down to your core where he presses on your clothed clit with the pad of his two fingers.

You jump a bit at the feeling, knowing deep down that you’d love to have your boyfriend fuck you to tears with just his fingers, but you had to decline his offer for one, small, inconvenient reason:

Your period—

“Maybe another time, Eunseok,” you smile, standing up on tippy toes to kiss the corner of his lips now, and he somehow knew exactly what was going on with you…

“Yea, in about five more days, I’m guessing,” he returns with a smirk, and you playfully smack his shoulder, following in his steps as he leads you out of the storage room and into the kitchen where you both wash your hands.

Sitting at one of the barstools around the counter, he pours you a glass of your favorite tea before sliding it to you barista-style, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him… like you always did…

“You told me not to let you forget, so here’s your reminder,” you say plainly, right before taking a sip from the cup, and it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head at your words.

“Oh right!” He exclaims, walking over to the kitchen pantry before opening it up to pull out a small woven basket tucked into a clear plastic bag with a bow to keep it closed.

You could hardly make out what was inside the basket until he plopped it on the countertop, letting you take a closer look.

“These are for you,” he begins to say, just as your eyes catch sight of the twenty-some candy bars staring back at you—

“This many?” You ask with widened eyes.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he continues, chuckling a bit at your reaction, “but I meant for you and your sister… I know how much you both like chocolate, and I figured it’d be nice to bring you two a little extra joy during this time…”

“Wow… this is really sweet of you, Eunseok, but… the doctor said she’s not allowed to eat sweets while hospitalized—”

“Just make sure she doesn’t get caught with it, then,” your boyfriend interrupts matter-of-factly, making you stare back at him with a knowing expression. “C’mon, it’s not like chocolate put her in a hospital bed to begin with, so relax… just one little piece and she’ll still be fine, ____… alright?” He asks, but it’s more so of a proclamation than a question.

“Alright,” you agree eventually, right before getting up from your seat to give him a proper hug now…

“What’s this for?” He asks, slowly letting himself wrap his arms around you.

“For everything,” you sigh, holding him a little tighter as the sunlight from outside leaked through the kitchen curtains, “anddd because I’m sure you’ll be a bit upset when you find out that I haven’t told her that we’re dating yet…”

⋆♱✮ Thank you to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, concluding DAY 6 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

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