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sinfulspencer · 1 year

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Prompt: It’s too hot to wear clothes at home, so Reader walks around in her underwear. Spencer loses his train of thoughts at the sight.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+)

Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader if you squint), dirty talking, hair pulling, light impact play, breeding kink, unprotected sex

Words: 5.0k

A.N.: Horny Spencer. That’s it. Also, this is the first official Spencer Reid fic I have written since last year. It felt so good to write for him again. Written this with a prompt from the Summer Sunshine challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins. Thank you to @reidselle and @drgenius-reid for beta-reading this fic!

MASTERLIST. REQUEST GUIDELINES. TAGLIST FORM.

When Spencer asked you to move in with him at the end of the year, he was ready to face every challenge that life would throw at him. The first fights over laundry, the first fight over whoever almost set the house on fire, the first fights over the person that was supposed to remake the bed before going to work, the first fights over whoever left the TV on before going to bed…

He was prepared for everything.

Spencer learned to cook (he wasn’t good at it, but he knew how to turn on the stove and boil some water, at least). He learned how to do laundry. He learned how to clean the floors without you falling on your own ass because he forgot to tell you that the ground was wet.

But Spencer wasn’t ready for the summer.

You moved in with him during the fall season, when it was still cold outside, and it was time to drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. You moved in with him when you were still wearing a winter jacket, leather boots and a scarf around your neck. You moved in when the wind was so cold that you could barely keep the window slightly opened in the bathroom after taking a shower to let the steam go out.

Spencer wasn’t fucking ready for summer.

The hot weather was already taking a toll on his poor body and he hated it. Spencer despised the high temperatures because they made him sweat like a pig and he hated, more than anything, the feel of sweat under his armpits or behind his knees.

Normally, before you moved in, Spencer would spend the whole time at home completely naked or wearing only underwear. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened quite a lot.

What was the problem, then?

Spencer used to walk around in his apartment in his underwear when he was alone, but you’re doing it while he’s in the house. He knew you paced around the house that way because you felt comfortable, but still. He was a stupid man, with hormones that rushed through his body like crazy.

You walked around your shared apartment with nothing on but a pair of panties that Spencer always wanted to rip off you and a stupid bra that made your breasts look even more delicious.

And the sight had started to take a toll on Spencer for the worst. He was constantly horny, making it difficult for him to focus on simple tasks such as cleaning the whole apartment or doing laundry.

He woke up one day and you already were parading yourself in your underwear, which made his morning wood even more difficult to take care of. He came home that same night and you were still in your underwear, which led him to forget he was supposed to grab some dinner with Luke because he ended up taking you against the bedroom door.

Spencer didn’t want you to wear clothes if you were too hot, but he also needed to learn how to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw an inch of your naked skin. He felt like a teenager, always eager to touch and ravish what belonged to him.

When Spencer tried to explain the situation to Luke, his colleague laughed right in his face. At first, Spencer was offended.

‘Why are you complaining about seeing your girlfriend’s tits? You should be happy she feels comfortable around you.’

And Spencer was happy; he truly was. He was proud to know he made you feel good about yourself and allowed you to walk around the house almost naked, but he also felt like an idiot for getting a boner whenever he thought about coming home and knowing he’d find you dressed like that.

Or better, undressed.

That night, Spencer couldn’t wait to get home and tell you that he had a birthday party to attend next week. It was Penelope’s birthday and, as every year for the past ten, she had an entire day planned for her and her friends from work. There would be a huge pool party in a small agritourism she rented for the day, followed by a barbecue and a whole garden to explore.

Spencer was excited to bring you there.

You had been dating for over a year now and you couldn’t meet his co-workers and friends because you always had meetings to attend, or shifts that were incompatible with the nights the team hung out all together.

“Y/N?” Spencer called out when he entered his apartment.

The lights in the kitchen were on and he could hear you humming to a song blasting from the speakers.

He dropped his bag on the floor and followed the sound of your voice, only to find you in nothing but your underwear. Again. You had your back turned and were swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music, making Spencer smile at the sight. Though the music was loud and almost hurt his ears, he was willing to tolerate the loud volume if it meant he could observe you in your element for hours on end.

He was so enamoured with you even though you weren’t doing anything in particular. He fell harder for you everyday just watching you exist, breathe and live on your own.

But of course, the romantic thoughts in his head abruptly stopped when you felt his presence in the room and you screamed.

“Fuck! What the fuck, Spencer?!”

He didn’t want to laugh at your terrified expression, but a chuckle fell from his lips.

“Did I scare you?”

You roll your eyes, dropping your apron on the counter. “No. I screamed because I was learning how to fry scream. Fuck yes, you scared me.”

Spencer walked to the other side of the kitchen counter and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. You smelled like apples and he could see them in the corner of his eyes, all peeled up.

“How was work? Did you get your stuff done?” you asked

Spencer nodded his head, kissing your temple without losing his grip on you. “Yes. I’m exhausted, though. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could relax and enjoy some time with you.”

You leaned forward, caressing his soft curls. “I bet you’re tired. You’ve been awake since five in the morning.”

As Spencer left the kitchen to get changed, he heard the music turning back on and he smiled. Your footsteps echoed in the room, and he smiled because he knew you were dancing to your favourite songs again. But still, there was a big problem that needed to be solved at that instant.

You were still in your underwear and of course, he had noticed that. How couldn’t he?

Spencer saw you for less than three minutes and yet, the bulge in his trousers made it difficult for him to think straight. He didn’t know how it was possible for you to turn him on that much, but you did and it was starting to make things harder for him.

If Spencer brought you to Penelope's birthday party, you were definitely going to wear a bikini. And a bikini is basically the same thing as your underwear… which meant one thing.

“Oh no.”

“Are you talking to me?”

Spencer turned around, attempting to cover the issue between his thighs with the jacket he brought to work that morning.

“Uh, no love. No, I was just thinking about… something.”

“Care to share?” you asked with an innocent smile.

Spencer knew that smile was actually innocent; you had no ill intentions, but his brain was starting to play games with him. He was so turned on that Spencer thought every little microexpression on your face and every move you made were just actions to tease him and work him up.

They were not. Or maybe they were.

“Sorry, uh… Yeah. Penelope invited me to her birthday party this Saturday.”

Your face enlightened at his words. “Oh! That’s so nice!”

“She asked me to bring you, too.”

“I don’t like the tone you just used. If you don’t want to bring me, that’s…”

Spencer widened his eyes, realising that his words might’ve sounded rude. “No! I’m excited to let you meet all of my friends and co-workers, truly.”

“Then, what is it? I know there’s something that bothers you.”

You sat on the bed with your legs crossed, waiting for Spencer to continue but, he didn’t dare to move. If he placed his jacket on the bed, you would’ve noticed the painful tent in his trousers. If he didn’t move, you would’ve asked him why he wasn’t taking off his clothes and putting on more comfortable ones.

Too many thoughts were running wild through Spencer’s brain and it was difficult for him to gather them all, cast aside the naughty ones and focus on the more normal ones.

It was tough not to stare at the curves of your breasts and how he could see the shadow of your nipples hidden behind the fabric of your bra. He has spent so many hours just licking and sucking your skin around your breasts, that he can still taste you on his tongue if he focuses hard enough.

“Penelope has rented a whole place for all of us.”

You hummed, tilting your head. “Sounds really nice. Is there a swimming pool involved? Is that why you’re worried?”

Spencer bit his bottom lip, forcing himself not to stare at the way your hair fell over your shoulders and covered the laces of your bra. A few days ago, he used his teeth to remove that same bra. It was a struggle not to think about that night, and he pathetically failed.

“I’m sure the place she rented is clean and…”

As you started to speak and comfort Spencer over his fear of germs, his mind wandered elsewhere. You moved to the centre of the bed to be closer to him and laid on it, with your arms behind your head and your body all stretched out.

Your bra barely covered your full breasts and your thighs were much more visible, with all the little bruises still peppering your skin. The same bruises he caused two days before. The same bruises you begged him to create on.

Spencer’s brain was starting to get even foggier.

“Are you even listening to me, love?”

You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Spencer dropped the jacket on the floor, quickly bending over to pick it up. Of course, he was listening to you, but he was just… thinking about something else while you were talking.

“Hm.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Spencer turned away from you and looked down, frowning. His bulge was still there and getting more painful, but how in the world was he going to face you and ask you if you could help him out? He knew you would, in a heartbeat, but he felt miserable.

How could he ask you to stop walking around his place in nothing but your underwear when he wanted to worship your body every hour of every day? How could he deny himself the sight of your stunning body?

His eyes went straight to your breasts and of course, you noticed it.

“Spencer!”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“My God.” - you started to say, sitting up on the bed - “You’re distracted! You can’t even finish a sentence or listen to me.”

Spencer hummed again, forcing his eyes to stay on your face. Unfortunately, they slipped down to your breasts once again - but that time, Spencer didn’t deny it. How could he? He had been so obvious since he arrived home, but you thought to yourself that maybe you were imagining things.

Or you were too horny, but you weren’t. He was.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“You’ve been staring at my breasts since you saw me in the kitchen.” you stated

Spencer sighed, turning his back on you again. “I’m sorry. They’re distracting.”

“Look at me, love.”

He lingered for a few seconds, covering his face with both hands. He didn’t want to turn around because he knew you would’ve teased him for hours on end, but it truly wasn’t his fault. It was his brain that tricked him into staring at your boobs and remembering all the things he did to you the night before and all the other days.

It wasn’t his fault he had an eidetic memory and he could replay all your moments of intimacy together each time he wanted. How you looked when he kissed your neck, how you moaned when his tongue swirled around your nipples…

“You can look at them whenever you want, you know.” - you tapped his shoulder, kneeling behind him on the bed - “I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”

“That’s not the point, Y/N.” - Spencer replied, forcing himself to turn around - “You’re so distracting, I can barely think when you’re there… dressed up like that.”

You raised your brows. “Do you want me to change?”

“No!” - he exclaimed, before clearing his throat - “I mean… maybe. I don’t know, but I can’t keep getting hard because you’re half-naked.”

“What’s wrong with being attracted to me, love?” you asked with your arms crossed.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know, but it’s hard to be around you when all I think about is how I want to just…” - he took a deep breath before shaking his head - “I need to behave, I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence where you pondered over his words. He seemed so miserable and all because he was so attracted to you that he could barely think, that he could barely remember that he had other things to do other than you.

That felt incredibly hot.

Leaning forward, you placed a hand on his hip. “I want to hear what you’re thinking about right now.”

Spencer shook his head, covering your hand with his. “It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early to make love to your partner, Spencer.”

You were right, he knew that, but he also knew that if he kissed you and took you right there, he would’ve spent the whole night just trying to do it over and over until you were too tired to move or to keep your eyes open.

Spencer sighed and looked down at you. “You drive me crazy.”

“And what’s the harm in that, love?” you asked innocently

He moved his hands under your neck and forced you to look at him, gripping your chin with his fingertips. You went quiet, trying to decipher the expression on his face, though the tight grip was already a good hint of what he was thinking about.

“No harm.”

“Exactly, so… What’s stopping you?”

Spencer knew nothing was stopping him from pressing your body onto the mattress and pounding into you. He had every right to do so because he knew you wanted it as much as he did, but still. There was an issue to fix and he refused to let his hormones get in the way, once again.

But maybe just this time, Spencer thought.

You leaned your head against his palm, and closed your eyes when his fingers brushed over your cheek. He could look at you for hours, admiring how you basked in the sweetness of his touch that you found so comforting.

“Nothing’s stopping me.”

You sighed, running your hands over his chest. “Good.”

Spencer unbuckled his belt and the metal clanking of it falling onto the floor brought an eager smile to your lips. Of course you smiled, because you were about to get exactly what you wanted since he came home.

Little minx, Spencer thought.

“You don’t need to hold back from what you truly desire, Spencer.”

He drank up your words like they were the sweetest honey and he sighed. You were right; he didn’t need to stop himself from putting his hands over you if you wanted to be touched as well, but still.

“If you want to rip my underwear off me, you can do it.” - you muttered, slowly opening the buttons of his shirt - “If you want to fuck me like this, while I’m almost naked and you’re still dressed, you can do it.”

Spencer watched as your skilled fingers pushed his shirt off his shoulder and sighed, because there was nothing else he could do or say at that moment. You had him wrapped around your tiny finger and you knew it, which was why he loved you so much. You could’ve snapped your fingers and he would’ve dropped to his knees for you.

“I just.. I just need to have you. At all times.”

“You can.” - you replied with no hesitation, only firmness in your voice - “I am here for your pleasure. Always.”

Spencer released a long sigh. “I know. I’m so lucky.”

Pushing his trousers down his legs to reveal his soft skin, you looked up at him with your lips turned into a wicked grin. You could see the emotions rapidly changing behind those eyes: lust, frustration, love, annoyance and desire. That was exactly what you wanted: you craved to drive Spencer crazy and you needed him to lose his mind over you.

It made you feel powerful.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.” you said

Spencer leaned into your touch when you reached out for his face. “So are you, princess.”

But the tender moment was gone as fast it came, because there was no time to be nice to one another. Spencer wanted to wreck you and you wanted him to do as he pleased; you wanted the pleasure to consume him, and so it did.

Spencer kissed you for the first time since he came home and, of course, he had no time to be nice. His tongue pushed into your mouth without warning, but you let it as you laid down on the bed with the man on top of you. The kiss expressed all the frustration that had built within him ever since he came home and found you in the kitchen, wiggling your ass to the music and singing at the top of your lungs.

His teeth dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and you whined, almost tasting blood on your tongue.

“Let me be rough tonight.”

You grabbed him by the chin, staring right into those honey-coloured eyes. “Perhaps I was not clear with my words a moment ago, Spencer. I want you to do whatever you want to me.”

Spencer groaned at your words and pushed any rational thought out of his mind, allowing the frustration and profound desire felt for you to drive him. His pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust making you shiver, bringing the heat between your thighs where you so desperately wanted to be touched.

Spencer kissed your mouth before moving down to your throat, attacking it with bites and gentle licks that made you whimper.

“I’m going to ravish you tonight, my princess.” - Spencer whispered to your ear, running his hands all over your breasts - “And you’re going to take my cock like the good girl I know you are for me, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, love.”

He moved his hands to your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Hands and knees.”

You scrambled to turn around, struggling to move as his arms didn’t give you as much space as you needed. Spencer, ever so helpful, pulled your hips up when you managed to roll on your tummy.

“Good girl, that’s it.”

You could feel his cock against your ass when he leaned forward to bite your shoulder and you moaned, closing your eyes. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your back, dragging your panties down your thighs before throwing them on the floor.

Spencer’s mouth wandered down your neck, leaving a trace of kisses that started from your right shoulder and went down to your ass. He nibbled at the soft skin right below it before biting down, hard enough to draw blood. You yelped at the feeling, but didn’t complain as your hands scratched the blanket.

Spencer pulled away for a second and traced the small wound with the tip of his index, earning a hiss from you. It hurt, but you wanted it to hurt - you promised you’d bleed for him, and bleed you did.

“Good girl. So pretty for me.” - Spencer whispered, but you were more focused on the sound of a bottle of lube being opened - “I’m sorry, I’m so impatient to have you. I wish we could take this slow, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re desperate.” - you mumbled, moaning softly when his fingers breached your entrance - “It’s fucking cold.”

He chuckled at your reaction, smearing the lube all over your already wet slit. “Oops”

When you were ready, Spencer found no resistance as he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. He watched the way your walls welcomed him in and revelled in the sweetness of your whimpers and whines when you felt him. Spencer waited, watching you as you struggled to stay still for him.

“Please, just… Get inside, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh? Wanna take it all at once, my princess?” - Spencer asked, running his left hand through your hair - “Are you desperate for my cock? Then, fucking have it.”

In one hard thrust, Spencer bottomed out inside of you and you fell on the bed with your face in the pillow. You trembled when you finally felt every inch of his cock inside of you and you thought you were ready to fall off the edge in less than a minute.

You were desperate for him every single time you had the chance to make love to him.

“Take it, princess. You wanted it and now you have it.”

Spencer watched you as you arched your back, tightening your grip on the bed sheets. A chorus of curses and moans flows from your lips as you try to get back on your knees, but his thrusts are too quick and harsh to let you get in position. So, again, you fell down with your face in the pillow.

The pleasure quickly expanded through your body as Spencer never slowed down the pace of his thrusts, basking in the gentle sounds of your moans. His right hand travelled down to reach your ass, and before you felt it, you heard it - there was a brief moment of silence, followed by a loud smack and then a deep heat diffusing over your skin.

It had been so long since he spanked you, but with that position, you couldn’t blame him.

The sensation heightened the pleasure within you.

“Oh, fuck!”

Spencer moved both his hands on each side of your head and leaned forward, keeping his thrusts quick and regular. You could feel his body tense each time you tried to push back into him, to fuck yourself onto his cock.

You were already close, desperate to ride that delicious end.

“Please, more.” - you cried out again - “Please, I’m close.”

“Don’t you dare.” - he bit your earlobe - “Don’t you fucking dare come on my cock now.”

You whined at his order, not sure how you would be able to hold it and be a good girl for him. It wasn’t easy to hold an orgasm, especially if Spencer never stopped fucking into you with all the energy he had in his body. You were so close, you were right there but Spencer stopped his movements - and suddenly, you felt a warm tear slip down your cheek.

A single tear of frustration.

Spencer forced you on your back, pushing you onto the mattress before sliding his cock back inside of you.

“I want to see your pretty face when you come, princess.” - Spencer whispered, lifting your right leg and wrapping it around his own waist - “I want you to look at me as you come undone on my cock.”

His pace is as rough as before and you felt more tears spill from your eyes. Your hands quickly went behind his neck as you rolled your hips, a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself back onto his cock to feel more and more.

You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The only word that fell from your lips was a strained ‘yes’ that echoed in the room, encouraging Spencer to go harder and faster, to tear you down piece by piece.

And he looked fucking stunning as he did so.

His lean body, his muscles were tense, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead and his tongue poking out in concentration… You wanted to get those details tattooed on your brain, on your body, every-fucking-where.

“Such a good girl for me, huh? My pretty princess.” - Spencer whispered, looking down at you - “Always welcoming me with nothing on, knowing how crazy that makes me.”

Your lips opened slightly, more whimpers flowing from them.

“Do you know how difficult it is to get out of here and not remember all the times I’ve fucked you against the door?” he said, his voice rough.

You shook your head, not sure if you understood what he said.

“Fuck, you make me so horny. I fucking love your body.” - he mumbled, pressing his forehead to yours - “I always think about it and then I see dressed like that… It’s like you’re always begging me to bend you over and fuck your pretty cunt.”

You’ve always loved his dirty mouth, but that day it felt deliciously perfect. His thrusts were rough and faltering, which meant he was close to his orgasm too - you almost forgot you were close, totally enamoured by him and the way he spoke about you.

“My slutty princess.”

You nodded with a smile, drunk on your lust for him. “All yours to use and destroy.”

You felt the pleasure built up again right behind your belly button and you knew you were close again. Spencer must’ve noticed it because he kept his pace quick, never changing the angle because he felt you clench hard around him each time he bottomed out. Your thighs were shaking around his waist and he could feel your heartbeat quickening under his fingertips.

“My good girl.” - he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment - “I can feel you’re close. Do you want to come on my cock, princess?”

He didn’t need a verbal answer, because soon your cries of pleasure were enough. You widened your eyes and threw your head back onto the pillow, crying out his name over and over as your nails dug into his shoulders. He could feel his skin breaking under your nails but he didn’t care.

Spencer was too enamoured with you to realise how painful your grip was.

“That’s it, gorgeous. You did so well.” he rewarded you with a kiss on the lips

You barely felt it, drunk on the pleasure that he fed you. Your whole body was shuddering as Spencer helped you ride out your orgasm, but the more he thrusted, the more pain you felt stabbing you. You didn’t complain, though.

You wanted it, you needed it and so did he.

“Does this pretty princess want my cum deep inside of her, hm?” Spencer asked

You weren’t sure he heard you, but you managed to choke out: “Yes. Please, please, fucking do it. Please.”

A few thrusts later, Spencer granted you your wish. His warmth flooded you from the inside as he watched the way his body become one with yours, shivering with pleasure. His right hand pressed down hard below your belly button and you winced, feeling his seed run deep if that was even possible.

It felt so incredibly good you could almost come again.

“Ah, that felt fucking perfect.”

You closed your arms around his neck and caged him against your body, so that he wouldn’t be able to run away. Not that he wanted to, of course, but.

Spencer didn’t move for at least five good minutes, struggling to catch his own breath while you stared at the bedroom ceiling with a grin on your face. You were deeply satisfied with yourself and you were sure Spencer was content, as well - though the conversation between you wasn’t over.

You knew that not putting on clothes would’ve distracted him and maybe that was exactly why you never put them on when he was around in your shared apartment. It was fun to see him struggling between staring at your breasts or at your thighs, or forgetting that he had to hang out with his colleagues because he was too busy burying his face in your cunt or fucking you against a window.

It felt good to be desired, and it felt even better knowing that it was the only thing Spencer was able to think about when he was away from you.

“You have to stop walking around our place naked.”

You put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him upward. Spencer was still lying between your legs, but he was staring at you.

“Naked? I am always wearing my underwear.” you stated

Spencer bumped the tip of his nose against yours. “Which is dangerously distracting, Y/N.”

“Oh, you’re using my name in a conversation.”

“I’m being serious, princess. I can’t get a boner whenever I’m near you.” - he explained, pressing a kiss on your jaw - “Believe me, I appreciate the sight but… My brain needs some rest. And so does my penis.”

“Okay, alright. I’ll do my best to keep my clothes on.” - I decided to give in - “After six weeks of pure hell, I think you deserve a break.”

Spencer kissed your cheek, before biting it softly. “I appreciate it, my princess.”

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it occasionally just to drive you crazy.” you warned him

“Oh, I’m fine with that.” - he said, rolling off your body - “But give me a heads up before doing it, okay? I wouldn’t want to come home with Luke and find you in your underwear.”

“Well… it could be fun. Maybe he’d like to join…”

Spencer covered your mouth with his’ before you could finish your sentence, but the kiss was interrupted by your loud laugh echoing through the walls.

“Alright, Luke will never see me like this.” - you gave him a peck on the lips, pushing him off you before he could spread your legs again - “This sight is for your eyes only.”

TAGLIST @blvebanisters @koukatsuki @moesdraft

BROKEN TAGS @alelaeljfj @donttrustlove

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut fanfic #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid smut imagines #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfics #doctor spencer reid smut

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taffywabbit · 24 days

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I finally watched breaking bad (all within the past week or so while I worked, finished it and watched el camino last night) and I'm confident this isn't a new thought I'm expressing or anything but genuinely how DID an entire generation of dudes convince themselves Walter White was cool and admirable and intended to be sympathetic. I know ppl just lack media literacy sometimes but I'm still so confused

I don't think I've EVER watched a piece of media that so blatantly depicts a guy making the worst possible decisions at every turn and having his life ruined for it and not being redeemed or made sympathetic in any significant or lasting way. the kinds of justifications villains USUALLY give that make people consider them "morally grey" or "tragic" or whatever (everything I did was for my loved ones, I did what I had to to survive, once I was in this I couldn't get out, I just needed you to trust me so I could keep you safe, etc etc) is ALWAYS framed as complete self-serving bullshit when Walt says it, and one of the only shreds of personal growth he ever exhibits in the whole series is when he finally fucking admits that. every time he does something even remotely cool or drops a quotable one-liner, something terrible immediately happens that makes everything worse and makes him look like an unreasonable idiot asshole again. by the end of the series the ONLY characters they can still contrast as being morally "worse" than him are literally a bunch of bloodthirsty neonazis who kept a guy in a cage for several months. this show is practically SCREAMING at you the entire time not to admire Walt. why did every dude I knew in highschool have his face on tshirts and Facebook pfps.

I just don't get it. at least with The Dark Knight's Joker it was like, a feature-length movie and that's it. you spend a lot less time with the Joker and it has a lot less time to delve into his motivations, so there's way more room for flanderization and misinterpretation as people extrapolate the few cool/interesting/sad things they saw into a whole nuanced misunderstood guy in their heads and online. Walter White has 5 seasons' worth of 45min episodes to convince you beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is a miserable fucking loser who ruins everything he touches because of greed and selfishness. if you weren't watching it for that, what WERE you getting out of this. what DID you think this show was about. am I just missing some key piece of context from 2012 or whatever that would help me understand this

#buny text #breaking bad #also I'm vaguely aware there was a big movement of fans who blamed everything on his wife and said she was the worst #which like. obvious misogyny from the primary audience of teen boys and young men aside #she's not really worse than any of the other adult characters?? she sucks real bad in the first couple seasons but so does everyone else #half the point of having all these characters be so shitty and rigid and unwilling to grow or accommodate others is so that #they can serve as landmarks to show how rapidly walt is abandoning his morals and spiraling into self-justification as the series goes on #the people you hate in season 1 are largely people you sympathize with in season 4 and 5 because compared to walt they're saints #idk. it's just weird having grown up around the fan culture for this show for the past decade or so and then finally watching it #and just being completely baffled now that i know what they were responding to

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gojonanami · 7 months

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❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈'𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆) ❞

❝ PROF. GETO IS SO HOT AND NOW HE’S A DEPARTMENT HEAD !! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part four of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: you and suguru enter a new phase in your relationship— long distance. the two of you work hard to keep your relationship alive and well — but what happens when distance and work starts to weigh on your time together?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, but also angst depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student, but age is vague, long distance relationship, phone sex, shower sex, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, yuta appears *gasp*, fanart found on pinterest (if anyone knows the og artist, pls let me know)

✧ wc: 14,288 | part one | part two | part three

“Baby,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “c’mon, you have to wake up, we can’t be late,” your boyfriend groans, pulling the covers over his head, and you giggle, gently tugging at the comforter held taut over his head.

“No,” he’s murmuring, as you roll your eyes, “a few more minutes,”

“A few minutes for you will turn into a few hours,” you chuckle, as your fingers finally find the inside of the comforter.

And you’re finally able to pull it off, Suguru’s long locks askew as his pretty obsidian eyes flutter half open, and your lips curl.

How did you get so lucky?

Your fingers run over his cheek, before you press a kiss to his forehead, “C’mon Mr. Department Head, you’re going to be late at this rate — you have to get the keys to your new apartment today and you have a meeting with the staff too,”

Suguru groans, his lips in a rare pout — mornings were truly his most vulnerable times, “Does it have to be today?” He draws close to you, burying his face in your neck, and your fingers slowly rake through his locks, gently easing the knots that formed in the night.

“Unfortunately yes,” you murmur, your fingers tucking a few locks behind his ear, “but I’ll be visiting you in two weeks, it will pass by quick,” it did feel like forever — but you knew it wouldn’t be. The summer would end one way or another and now he was leaving for Kyoto — officially three weeks before classes start, “and we’ll be spending the whole week together — we can explore a little more than we got to before,”

“I know,” he still is surely unconvinced, moving back to look up at you with certifiably the cutest purse of his lips, his warm hand finding your cheek, “but then why does every minute without you feel so much longer?”

Your lips find his in a lazy kiss, your hand sliding to the nape of his neck, his soft locks brushing against your knuckles, “But that will make the minutes we do spend together that much more special, right?”

He hums, pressing his forehead against yours, “how are you so positive about this?” And you sigh, your nose bumping against his, as you press a chaste kiss to his lips again.

“Because it’s the only way I can not completely break down,” you sigh, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you back into his embrace, your head resting on his chest, heart thudding nearly right under your ear, “what time do you have to leave?”

He glances at his phone, “not for another two hours,” and you curl up, fingers sliding against his smooth skin.

“Then a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt,” you murmur.

And you’d take any minute that you could get with him, especially now.

~~~

“Do you have everything?” Suguru never knew quite how much you could fuss over him, until the last few days. You seemed to obsess over every detail — his credentials, his electronics, his clothes — it’s as if you wanted everything squared away — and you simply couldn’t focus on anything else.

Because, you probably didn’t want to.

“I do, I have everything — I have things I didn’t need that you put in the car,” you pout as he chuckles, and he can’t help but lean in and kiss the pout from your lips, “I’ll be okay, I’ll call you as soon as I get there,” he murmurs, “can you pack yourself up and get in the car? Then I’ll really have everything I need,”

You blink rapidly, as if to ward off tears, as you can’t quite meet his gaze, “I wish I could,” you murmur, as your arms wrap around him, and his do the same, pulling you into a tight hug, “how am I going to survive the next two weeks without you?”

“It’s just two weeks right? Like you said it will pass by quick—“

You shake your head, “I just said that to make you feel better,” you look up at him, glassy eyed, “I changed my mind, stay here,” you whine, and he laughs, running his fingers through your hair.

“Think it’s a little late for that sweetheart,” he sighs, his fingers sliding under your chin, “after all, you packed up the rest of my things into my car, so unless I’m living out of it—“

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, as you rub your eyes, and he pulls your hands away gently, kissing your tears away, “I’ll miss you so much,”

“Not as much as me,” and you lean up to kiss him, a sweet kiss that only leaves him aching for more. Why was it the more he had of you — the more he always needed? He knew these first two weeks would be the hardest, but honestly, he’s not sure if it would ever get easier.

Because he needs you. Always.

“Ah wait,” you smile, reaching into your pocket, “you forgot one thing—” and you pull out a key, and he tilts his head, “it’s a key to my place,”

And he blinks, “You don’t—”

“I want to,” you kiss him again, even softer somehow, “please take it,” so he does, as you place the piece of metal into his palm, “plus, it’s practical, if I’m not around, you can let yourself in,”

“Make myself comfortable?” his lips quirk.

“Very comfortable,” you press your forehead to his again, “Go,” you murmur, you pull away reluctantly, his body already mourning the loss of your touch, your fingers still intertwined, “otherwise, I’ll just block your car with my body to get you to stay,”

He rolls his eyes, smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “I’d like to see that,” he presses his forehead to yours, “promise you’ll stop me from ever accepting a job that makes me be away from you for any amount of time again?”

“Now that’s a promise I’ll keep,” you squeeze his fingers one last time, “I think it’s what’s owed to us isn’t it?”

He knows he would never be able to repay what he owes you for everything you’ve done for him — how happy you’ve made him—

“It is,” he smiles, one last kiss to your lips, as he slips into the driver’s seat before he can change his mind.

—But he would try.

~~~

When you go back to your apartment — it feels far too empty. Even though Suguru didn’t live with you — it felt as if he had made a place for himself here, and he had, but he had left it. For now, you remind yourself. His place would be here for him, when he came back.

But it turned out two weeks was a lot of time to kill when you still hadn’t started classes — your days filled with nothing but time for you to spend. None of your friends from class had made it back yet either — so you were stuck trying to find things to do. Suguru was busier than expected — dragged to meeting after meeting and showed off more than a show dog to the department’s professors, alumni, and donors. Suguru often fell asleep on the phone with you, his soft snores filling your ears, as you fell asleep along with him.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if all semester would be like this — especially once his classes started. You understood — you did — this is what you signed up for and it was far from Suguru’s fault. But you couldn’t help but miss him. And that wasn’t surprising — but what was surprising was how much you missed him.

Your bed was bought for one, but now it felt empty with only you occupying it — a cold barren front without your usual refuge in his arms. And the days weren’t bad — you found things to keep you busy — but the evenings and weekends that you usually had spent with Suguru dragged like a child dragged their feet at the grocery store — reluctantly and without patience.

So maybe you needed to do the same that you’d do for a restless child — a distraction.

“Do you know of any organizations I could join?” You had asked Suguru on one of your video call dinner dates — and he hummed thoughtfully as he picked up soba noodles between his chopsticks, “I just feel like I need something to fill my time,”

“The semester hasn’t even started and you’re already thinking about other things to do?” He raises an eyebrow, and you suppress a giggle at the sight of a bit of the soup that remained on the side of his chin. The very same you wished that you could thumb away for him, “my favorite student is as ambitious as always,”

“Your girlfriend is even more so,” you roll your eyes, as you gesture to your own face to signal, and he wipes his, “c’mon, I know my favorite professor must have something to recommend. I know how he looooves to give me suggestions,”

And he snorts, setting his chopsticks down on his bowl as he finishes his meal, “Then I suggest you think about joining the student government — they have a specific section for graduate students and professors, it would be a good opportunity for you to branch out, and put the philosophy department’s brightest on the map,”

Your lips curl at the compliment, “you think I’m the brightest?”

“I was talking about myself,” and you roll your eyes, as he smirks at you, as he picks up his phone and his dishes to clean up, “I think it would be perfect. Why don’t you speak to Yaga about it? He was trying to goad me into recommending some students,”

“So this really is self-serving, huh?” the water of the sink runs in the background, as you do the same, placing your dishes in the sink — tomorrow’s problem — as you washed your hands, “what would I even know about student government anyway?”

“Philosophy has a lot to do with governance, you know that — Cicero, Plato, Aquinas, Machiavelli—“

“Saving the most benevolent philosopher for last,” and you can hear him chuckle, as the water squeaks shut, and he picks up his phone, a smile playing on his lips, “do you think I could help?”

“I think you can do anything, sweetheart, except get a 100% in my class,” and you gape at him, as he laughs, and your heart aches for that sound, more than you thought was possible, “you should do it, what’s stopping you?”

And you bite your lip — yes, you wanted to be busier, but you didn’t want to be too busy for this. To spend time with Suguru — no matter how little it was. But you knew it would be good for you — for both of you. The last thing you wanted was to be needy — even if this week was proving that you were needier than you thought you were.

“Nothing I guess,” you sigh, as you make your way to your bedroom, “I’ll email Professor Yaga in the morning,”

“Good,” Suguru is sat on his bed as well now, his phone propped up, “and your boyfriend has another suggestion,” and you raise an eyebrow, “I suggest my favorite student brings my favorite t-shirt with them when they come to visit me,”

You gasp in mock shock, “You gave this shirt to me,”

“No, I asked you where it was and you said you packed it already, but I see you pilfered it away when I wasn’t looking,” he tilts his head, “now take it off,”

“Professor, that’s not a proper way for a department head to speak to a student,” you still let the shirt ride up as you lean back against your pillows, “have you not gotten your ethics training yet about appropriate behavior?”

“That’s interesting, you didn’t seem to mind last night when you asked me to send you a very improper picture of my lower half fresh out of the shower,” and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips, but your expression grows more serious.

“So it’s all about quid pro quo, Professor?” you sigh exaggeratedly, before pulling the shirt off, “I’ll take it off, but how about if you let me keep it, I’ll give you something else?”

God, you know that look in his eye, and you just wished he could do what he wanted — his fingers would find your waist and your back, pulling you quick and eager into his lap — his hard-on pressing through the thin material of his sweatpants he wore around the apartment.

“And what would that be?” And the shirt finally up and over, a soft gasp leaving his lips at the sight of your bare body, only your shorts left on. You smile.

“Me, of course,” and he’s adjusting his phone, face up, a small groan leaving his lips, “sir?”

“Is that all you’re offering, sweetheart?” and you hear the slight shuffle of fabric, “because that shirt is quite special to me,”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugs at your lips as you see him come back into focus with his phone in hand, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your chest and back, “Is it?”

“If you remove your clothes, I’ll forgive this small transgression,” and his other hand is out of sight, no doubt stroking himself, though you were no better, fingers toying with your cunt through your drenched panties.

“I think that price might be too high, Professor— you might have to give me something in return,” you smile, toying with the elastic of your shorts, and he bites his lip, gaze heavy even through the screen of your phone.

“And what do you want, princess?”

“I thought it was obvious,” as you slip off your shorts, propping up your phone on the pillow designated usually for him, nothing else underneath, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he’s hissing, as you can hear the distinct sound of the squelch of his hand running up and down his cock, “sweetheart, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

And your fingers are teasing your wet folds, imagining it was his own, his thick fingers sinking into one by one, he’d fill you so much better than you do — “show me, Suguru,” He does, flipping the camera to show his erection — flushed red and pretty — beads of pre-cum dripping from the tip, “all this just for me?” And your fingers push past your entrance, a gasp leaving your lips, “my fingers aren’t enough for me, Sugu—“

“show me now, let me tell you how to fuck yourself,” and you’re nodding, hand shaking as you flip the camera around to show your fingers notched inside, gleaming with your pre, dripping down your knuckles, “move,” and you do, slowly at first, and his hand moves too, starting to fuck his fist, “faster, curl your fingers just like I would,” and you do, a whine leaving your lips, “good girl,” he grunts.

The sounds of both of your pants and moans fill your ears, your eyes fluttering open to watch him touch himself, “Tease the tip for me, baby,” you murmur, fucking yourself deeper, when you see him thumb his slit, “wish I could taste you, suck you off, until you’re cumming down my—“

“Princess—“ you know he’s close by the way his dick twitches in his fingers and the way his lips moan your name, “add another finger,” and you do — fuck, the stretch is nothing like his cock, but you can almost imagine it is, “I’m sure you’ve gotten tight without me to fuck you — have you been touching yourself when I’m not around?” You bite your lip, your hesitation was all the answer he needed, “what do you think about?”

“Think about you,” you’re fucking close too, your fingers drenched in your own precum, “think about you coming back, about you kissing me at the door before pinning me against it,” And he’s groaning, the sounds of his hand pumping his cock ringing in your ears, you can’t hang on— “Suguru—please—“

“Be a good girl, and cum for me, sweetheart,” and you do, your toes curling and eyes squeezing shut as you do, phone slipping from your fingers, as you hear him groan too, the distinct sound of his cum splattering against his sheets.

You both come down from your highs, pulling your fingers from your cunt, grabbing tissues from your bedside table to wipe off your hands.

“Sugu?” You pick up your phone, and your boyfriend does the same, his cheeks flushed a gorgeous red, slightly more rumpled than before. And you can’t help but wish you could lean over and kiss him as you would, running your fingers through his hair, “I miss you,”

He sighs, gaze filled with affection and longing, “I miss you too, so much — you have no idea, princess,” as you tug his shirt back on, and you lie back, turning on your side, “just one more week,”

“I’m counting the days,” you murmur

“I’m counting the seconds,” and you snort, his lips curled in the damned smile that dragged you into his mess.

“Always have to one up me don’t you?” you bury your nose in the fabric of the shirt, the scent still very distinctly him.

“It is my job after all,” and you smile, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” but you know where this is going — as it always did almost every weekday night.

“I should hang up — I have to clean up and—“

“Review for meetings before bed, I know,” you finish and he raises an eyebrow, “very predictable, Professor Geto,”

“I’ll work on that — watch, I’ll surprise you,” and you chuckle, but you can’t help but frown, “what is it?” and you shake your head, “sweetheart,” and you know he won’t let it go.

“Just call me after you’re done, before bed, okay?” you sit up, glancing at your shorts on the floor, shifting uncomfortably with the wetness between your thighs, “I have to change my shorts and my sheets,”

“You’re welcome,” and you roll your eyes, his lips curled in a small smile reserved just for you, “love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” the call ends, and you’re left looking at your lock screen, a sigh caught in your throat.

Just one more week.

~~~

You stood before the door of one of the university's conference rooms — on one of the floors you did not tend to frequent. You spent most of your time in the classrooms if not the library — but you had attended a few meetings up here for one reason or another. But this was the first time you were walking into a room in quite a long time that you didn’t know anyone.

The student government met once before the semester started — a getting to know you forum for new members, such as yourself. There was no real formal election process for your position as senator — as long as other students were not vying for the position. And luckily for you, no other philosophy graduate student had chosen to volunteer for this entirely optional and unpaid position — a mystery really.

But the nerves still remained — though there was nothing more to do than enter. So you did — opening the door and finding the room filled with quite a few faces, but none of them familiar. You took a seat in a relatively empty section, but adjacent to enough faces, an empty seat on either side of you. The people around you chatted, while you pulled a notebook and pen out — your phone face down on the table, before you grab it and shoot Suguru a quick text.

You: in my first student government meeting! wish me luck!!

The meeting started without much formalities — a simple round table introduction that had you close to going last, but you had a chance to learn more about the other graduate students — most of them were students representing different departments, as you were, while there was also the traditional roles of president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer.

Eyes slid to you now, the president gesturing to you, her name escaping you, “And our newest member,”

They finally turned to you as you waved to the group, introducing yourself by name, “I’m a graduate student in the philosophy department, I’m a third year in the program, and I heard about the group from my department head—”

“Professor Geto?” one of the girls piped up, a literature graduate student who you didn’t recognize, but you were sure had taken Suguru’s class or at least had heard about him.

You shook your head, forcing a polite smile on your lips, “Professor Yaga actually told me about it,” she nods, and the president claps her hands together.

“Alright, this meeting is just to mingle and get to know each other, so please enjoy the refreshments and food provided,” and her eyes flicker down, “I think we’re only missing one person from the group—”

And the door bursts open, “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to run late—” a student with dark black hair that rested past his chin, bangs that framed his face on either side, and a small smile on his lips.

“Students keep you again, Yuta?” the president asks, and the dark haired boy known as Yuta slipped into the room, and took a seat beside you, sighing with a nod, as he set down his things, “good timing, you can help our newest member get acclimated,”

His eyes flicker to you, a smile pulling at his lips, “I’d be happy to,” and the group begins to get up to grab food and refreshments, as Yuta offers you his hand, “I’m Yuta Okkotsu, it’s nice to meet you.”

~~~~

“I hope you stay a part of the organization,” your eyes snap up at Yuta’s words — a curious look on his face, “you just seemed a little overwhelmed in there,” he tilts his head, as the two of you walk towards the metro station, “I may be wrong, but—”

“No I was,” for someone who looked so…innocent, he was really observant — his dark eyes felt like they could pierce right through you — even if he wouldn’t let them do so, “it was a lot — I’ve never been a part of a formal structure like this so it was just a lot—”

“It’s not as formal as you think — the proceedings do drag on but Maki, the president, tends to skip the formalities for the most part — she’s as bored of them as you are,” he chuckles, his fingers adjusting the strap of his backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, “usually the meetings don’t take very long — the events mostly take up our time when it comes to planning and organizing, but we hold a couple in conjunction with other organizations so that helps take the load off,” he explains, “we also organize issues important to the students to present to the president of the university quarterly, so we tend to have more meetings around that time, but we schedule the meetings after midterms, and after finals, so it doesn’t interfere with studying,” and then he catches himself, rubbing the back of his neck, “sorry, I’m going on and on, I should have just asked you if you had questions instead,”

“No, it was really helpful, Yuta,” you smile, “you’re very thorough,” and you don’t notice how a faint flush appears across his cheeks.

“I was new last year to the organization, and I remember being really overwhelmed — the professor I usually T.A. for roped me into it, he’s been away on research for the last year or so, but I stayed apart of it, because,” he shrugged, a smile on his lips, “I made some really good friends, and I hope you do too,”

You pull out your phone, no reply from Suguru, a small sigh on your lips — it’s fine, he’s busy, “Good friends are exactly what I need right now I think,” you check the time — Suguru wouldn’t be out of meetings for dinner at this rate, “do you want to grab dinner? I know a good ramen spot not far from here,”

“Sounds great,” and you led the way, not noticing the way Yuta’s eyes lingered on you a second too long, before he started to follow you, keeping pace beside you.

A week would pass by quick.

~~~

“What time will you be here?” Suguru asked, as you had him on your laptop this time on video call to watch you pack for the couple days you were spending with him before the semester started.

“I’m taking the 8:00 AM train, so I’ll get there probably by 10:15, so like two hours,” you weren’t sure how much to pack — you didn’t want to do a ton of laundry right before classes started, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to wear, “can you come here pack for me and go back?”

He snorts, “I’ll be right over, but at that point, wouldn’t it be more conducive for me to just stay with you?”

“But I want to come see you,” you pout, and he shrugs, as his eyes flicker up from his work.

“Then you’re going have to pack,” and you give a heavy sigh, continuing to choose what clothes to take. Your phone goes off and it’s a text from Yuta;

Yuta: hey! are you free next week to get dinner after the meeting? But this time I’m choosing the restaurant :)

You pick up your phone and text back: if it’s that chapati place you mentioned, I’m down — otherwise, you’ll have to deal with my severe disappointment

Yuta: I’ll have to leave you in suspense then

You snort, tossing your phone down, as your eyes go back to the screen to find Suguru smiling at you, “What?”

“Just enjoying the view,” and your cheeks burn, as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up,” you mumble, rolling up a shirt in a hurry in a manner that definitely doesn’t qualify as folding, “what view? Me in an oversized t-shirt and shorts?”

“Exactly, with that pretty smile on your lips? Best thing on anytime,” he replies, and you bite back that same smile he complimented — but it’s the one reserved for him.

“You dork,” you mutter, “don’t say cute things or I’ll take the last train tonight to see you sooner,”

“I’d never make you do that so I’ll stop, for now,” he sighs, resting his cheek on his palm, his gaze growing a little more heady, “but tomorrow? I’ll be sure to tell you every single thing I love about you,”

And your lips curl, as you sigh, “I love you, but you should get some rest and I should finish packing and do the same,”

He gives a small smile, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll see you tomorrow, pretty girl,”

“I’ll be the one running into your arms,”

“Undoubtedly very late,”

“What was that? The sound of me missing my train tomorrow?” And he laughs, as you cross your arms, head held far too high, “that’s right. I’m holding myself hostage,”

“Well if you’re both hostage and hostage negotiator, tell both of you that I’ll bring you your favorite drink and buy you the breakfast of your choice,” and you peek at him, “coming around?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, you better have the ransom ready,” you let a smile escape your lips, “I love you,”

“I love you too, I’ll see you tomorrow,” and he hangs up after, and you sigh — tomorrow, finally.

You’ll see him again — you just hoped these few days didn’t pass by quickly.

~~~

Suguru waited at the station for you, your preferred hot beverage in hand, along with your requested pastry, both in hand as he waited. He opted to have his hair up in a bun due to the weather, a slight wind that carried the warning of fall in the crisp air that morning. But not whenever a snowstorm could have kept him from you that morning — it had been far too many days and nights spent without you by his side while spending them instead in stuffy rooms filled with colleagues and donors.

But now — and he sees people pour from the platform, a throng of harried travelers looking to get to their next destination, and among them all, he spots you — with the red suitcase you insisted made it easier to find amongst the others (it didn’t).

And he’s approaching you, slipping past others, and your eyes find his, your lips in a grin at the sight of him, as you find your way into his arms in a moment — suitcase clattering to the floor probably to the other travelers’ dismay. But he grabbed the handle and turned it upright in a moment, before his arm curled back around you.

“Hi,” you whisper, and he could have stood there forever — it had felt like forever since he had held you. His palm cupped your cheek, a thumb brushing back and forth against the length of it.

“You always know how to make an entrance sweetheart,” he murmurs, forehead pressed to yours, as your fingers intertwine slowly but surely — as if they hadn’t parted, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

“Uh-huh, don’t act like I forgot about the ransom I’m owed,” and he’s rolling his eyes, as he takes your luggage, wrapping an arm around you, “where is it?”

“In the car, how about we stop by my apartment, drop off your things, rest for a bit and then we can grab breakfast, as promised?” You smile, leaning into his side, wrapping your arms around his middle. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“As long as it’s with you.”

~~~

“You made breakfast for me?” you gasp, as he had set the table with all the breakfast staples — “i thought we were going to ‘grab breakfast?’”

Suguru wipes his hands, as he brings over two pairs of clean chopsticks and sits beside you, “Well I thought you might be tired from the train ride so I thought we could have breakfast in and relax before going out before lunch,”

You take the chopsticks from him, fingers brushing as you do, leaning into his side, “It’s not fair being this perfect,” you murmur, your head against his shoulder, nose brushing against the soft fabric of his t-shirt and his skin, “when are you going to show me your flaws?”

“I think I’ve shown plenty of those the last few months with how things have went before we even began dating,” his lips brush against your forehead, “now I just want to treasure you — as much as I can,”

“Me too,” you lean up and meet his lips in a soft kiss that steals the logic from your head and the air from your lungs — and only leaves his touch behind, “Suguru…” and you want to admit to him how hard it’s been without him, how much harder it's been than what you expected — and how you worried about how hard would it get during the semester, when you both were busy? “I really missed you,” you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and you speak before he can get even a syllable out, “but I’m so glad we’re together now,”

He didn’t need to know — he would only feel bad. You could handle it—

“Me too,” his gaze is soft, as he pulls back to find your lips in another achingly gentle kiss.

For him.

~~~~

“This weekend is supposed to be for you, why are you shopping for me?” Suguru says yet again as you peruse another homegoods store, looking for something to decorate what you claimed were the “barren landscape” of his apartment, “we should do something you want to,”

“This is something I want to do,” as you inspect a globe with the same scrutiny you’d apply to a Aristotelian text — brow furrowed in thought as if this knick knack would give you some unintelligible insight on metaphysics (it did not), “you’re going to be living there for a while, I want you to have an apartment that doesn’t look like a serial killer resides there,”

“Why does it look like that?”

“Because it doesn’t look lived in,” you pick up a set of matching bookends, “these things make your house look lived in and feel welcoming,” and then you put the bookends down thoughtfully, “although we should start with more basic things, like frames and a full length mirror,”

“Well if I look like a serial killer, you don’t have to worry about anyone who comes over, because they will think I’m a murderer and feel very unwelcome,” and you laugh, intertwining your fingers with him, “I don’t care about other people — I care about you, so will this make you happy?”

You nod, “Because I want you to feel happy here, and that will make me happy,”

And he wants to say the only thing that would make him really happy would be if you lived here with him — to wake up beside you each morning, to come home to you each evening, and fall asleep beside you — but he couldn’t say that. It would almost be cruel to say something that wasn’t possible right now. But it would be — it would be possible.

“Okay, let’s find some things,” his arm curls around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “but remember, you do love this serial killer,”

“That’s only because I’m far too wonderful to murder,” and he rolls his eyes, as the two of you continue to shop, and he watches you continue to pick up and examine things — and he can’t help but wonder if this is what it would be like when you both shop for your place together. And he bites back a smile.

Only a few more months — and you could be together. It wasn’t forever.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

~~~~

“You said no work while I was here,” you were doing your best pout if only to change his mind, but he was unrelenting, his shoulders slumped in resignation, and his lips in a purse at his desk in his bedroom, “Suguruuuuu,” you’re officially whining, and you know it’s not his fault, but you have such little time with him, you don’t want a minute to be wasted.

“I know, sweetheart, but Yaga wants to speak about the semester starting, and I didn’t have much of a choice—” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck, lips pressing kisses to the hollow of his throat, “princess—” he groans.

“I want to get in my cuddles before,” and your teeth graze the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he sucks in air between his teeth, “how long is your meeting?”

“About half an hour,” and you hum, kissing his lips, languid and slow, your fingers threading his lengthy tresses, “it’s about to start—” and you’re kneeling down in front of his chair, as the video call starts to go off, as you look up at him between his knees, “sweetheart—” he’s hissing, wide eyes, as you undo his belt and the zipper of his pants.

“Then let’s not waste any time,” you grin, toying with the waistband of his boxers, “pick up the call.”

And you thought he would kick you out from underneath, nudging you away, and you would relent if he really didn’t want this — but he doesn’t. He swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing as he picks up the call, placing his earbuds in his ear.

“Hi Professor Yaga,” Suguru says, and you’re almost surprised how normal he sounds with you between his legs, but Yaga can’t see the way his muscles tense when your fingers spring his already half hard cock free, “Yes, we do have a couple things to cover. No, I don’t mind starting,”

Well if he insists, you’d start too.

Your fingers slowly stroke him to fully erect, pre-cum dripping over your fingers as you do, your eyes flickering up to see his expression still perfectly normally, the only telltale sign being the way his fingers white knuckled the armrest just out of sight. His cock was so unfairly pretty — a deep red at the tip with a slight curve that had your thighs pressing together at the thought of it sinking into you. Your lips press a kiss to the tip and he wavers mid sentence, as you smirk against his cock, as your mouth parts to suck him off.

And it seems like Yaga is the one speaking now, as he seemingly mutes himself, resting his chin against his hand, covering his mouth with his fingers, “Fuck, sweetheart,” he swears under his breath, as your tongue traces along one of his veins, sucking at the tip, as your fingers drift to toy with his balls.

The tip of your tongue flicks against his weeping slit, bobbing your head along the length, as a hand of his drifts down to thread in your locks, nails digging into your scalp.

“S-sorry, what was that?” he seemingly unmuted himself at a question, and you’re sucking even harder, nose brushing against his pubes as his tip brushes against your throat, “N-no, I’m fine, sorry, I’m not feeling well,”

You suck one more time, and he’s gone, as he barely can mutes himself and turns off his camera, groaning, as he spills down your throat, as you swallow it, his head thrown back against the headrest of his chair. And he’s panting, as he looks down at you, half lidded and lost in pleasure, gaze darkening as he watches you pull away, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his softening cock, as you adjust his boxers and clothes.

“What happened to Yaga?” and his glance tells you he certainly does not care — chest heaving, as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Disconnected after I went silent — I’ll tell him my internet went out,” and you’re slowly rising out from between his legs, and his fingers find your waist, tugging you close, “you really are a bad influence,” and his lips find yours, your fingers cupping his cheek.

“I told you I didn’t want to waste time,” you grin, and in one smooth motion, he’s dragging you into his bed, giggling leaving your lips as he showers you with kisses, “Suguru!” you yelp as you fall backwards into his plush bed, and he’s tugging off your shorts and panties with ease, folding your legs up, one of them brushing against his shoulder, as he kisses your inner thigh, a smile against your heated skin.

“My turn.”

~~~~

“How did this week go so quickly?” you sigh, burying your face in his chest on Friday night, knowing you have to get on a train tomorrow morning, “it’s not fair, it’s not enough time,” you murmur, tracing circles on his skin, “and now I don’t get to see you for a month,”

“I know, I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “but it will pass by quick — you’ll be busy with classes and I’ll be busy with work — it won’t be as bad as we think,” And you don’t want to admit your fears to him — it would make it all too real, as if they would emerge from the syllables your lips spoke into a new reality before you — and you couldn’t take that risk, no matter how illogical it was.

“I know, I just can’t imagine spending this much time apart,” you glance at him, “don’t know what I did without you before, I don’t even remember what I spent my time doing,”

“Revising the essays I made you write?” and you pinch his cheek, and he’s laughing, “sorry, couldn’t resist making that joke,”

“Yeah, I recall you couldn’t resist me either,” and his fingers drag lazily over your cheek, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“Well, who really could resist you?” he sighs, content seemingly in just the act of touching you, “I tried and failed — and I am a master at resisting temptation,”

“A paragon of morality truly,” and he snorts, as you kiss his neck sweetly, ghosting over the places you had left marks, “though there was definitely nothing moral about what we just did,”

Your lips find his again, a lazy kiss that grows slowly with more heat the more your lips meet again and again and again — until he’s parting, “It’s just a month,” he says as if he can sense your anxiety, “I’ll come see you, I promise,”

“So if you don’t come, I can summon Immanuel Kant to scold you for not fulfilling your promise?” and he laughs.

“A scolding from you would be far more effective, but Kant is able to come if he can make it — death’s a worse commute than to Tokyo,”

“Who says?” you mumble, pressing your forehead to his, “you’ll take me to the station?”

“Of course,” and you have only one request.

“Don’t come inside ok?” his brow furrows, but you softly smooth it with the back of your knuckles, “Otherwise, I’ll end up crying — and I rather not subject you or the passengers near me to that,” and he chuckles, a frown still on his lips.

“Are you sure?”

It wasn’t just the crying — you knew if he walked you to your train, you’d want to make him come with you or let yourself stay — and you couldn’t do that, not to either of you. This was temporary — it wouldn’t be forever—

“I’m sure.” you kiss his lips again, rolling over so you were on top, your bodies brushing against each other with the familiar heat you’d miss when you were back home again.

—so why did it feel like forever?

~~~

“You promised me a better meal and this place nearly burned my taste buds off,” you grumble, as the two of you stand outside the restaurant, rain pounding against the awning as it starts to come down, the spicy food from the chapati place doing little to keep you warm now against the frigid wind of the autumn carrying the promise of being drenched with it.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Yuta chuckles, holding a hand out for the rain, “now at least the spice will help on the way home,”

“The only good thing about this place is that it's close to my apartment. I have a ton of work to do already — and it’s only the first week of classes,” you sigh, pulling out your umbrella, and glancing at him, hands still empty and unmoving. You hold up your umbrella, waving it, “Did you not bring one?” as you pull out your phone to check the weather reports.

“I didn’t know there was rain in the report for today,” he sighs, waving you off, “go ahead, I’ll wait for it to let up or find a convenience store nearby— I just need to make it back to the station—”

“Trains are down because of the storm,” you raise an eyebrow, as you glance at him, “come on, you can stay at my place,”

He’s shaking his head, holding his hands up, “No, I don’t want to—”

You tilt your head, glancing around at the clearing street and the distant rumble of thunder, “So are you going to camp out here outside this restaurant for the night or?” and he’s chewing his lip, as you chuckle, “it’s not far, we can share the umbrella, and hopefully we won’t get completely soaked,”

“Well, we’re not completely soaked,” you close the door behind you both, dripping water onto your floor, as you sigh, “hold on I’ll grab towels,” and you do, coming back quickly so you both can dry off.

And you notice the damage done to his clothes are far worse than yours, completely soaked through, the towel doing little to help aside from stopping the water from forming a larger puddle near your entryway.

“You held the umbrella mostly to my side, didn’t you?” And he pauses, his hesitation the answer you needed, as you sigh — “you’re more of a martyr than you need to be,”

“Well, I want to help my friends,” he gives a small smile.

“Even at the detriment of yourself?” And he shrugs.

“I can handle it,” and you shake your head, as you head to your closet pull out a fresh towel and clothes — but not your own.

“Go change,” and he glances at the clothes, hesitates, but takes them, as he frowns, “it’s fine, Yuta, go shower and change,” you show him where the bathroom is, and how to turn on the water.

You head to your bedroom to change and dry off, grabbing a fresh t-shirt and shorts — chewing on your lips — you had to give Yuta some of Suguru’s clothes you had stolen — your clothes wouldn’t exactly fit him properly. But you pouted, now you couldn’t sleep in Suguru’s shirt tonight, and you sighed, it was just as well — you had to wash the shirt so now it didn’t smell like him now.

You come out into the living room, hopping onto your couch and flipping on the TV, looking for something to watch. And then you hear the bathroom door, glancing behind you, “Done?”

“Yeah, thank you again for this,” he shifts in place, steam escaping from the bathroom behind him, his bangs still a little damp and cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink along his cheekbones, “what are you doing?”

“Just looking for something to watch,” and he comes over, sitting on the other side of the couch, “do you have any preference?”

He shakes his head, “No, not really,” and you choose a random movie to put on, a cheesy rom-com that had just come out on a streaming service, “is that what you like to watch?”

You shrug, running your fingers through your hair, “I like watching bad movies — it’s something I do usually while I do my work — the genius is, I don’t have to pay attention to follow the storyline,” and your eyes still on the TV, you don’t notice how his eyes linger on your face, a smile pulling on his lips, “now look at this, it’s the classic ‘guy likes girl, but girl is too dense to notice,” you shake your head, “does that even happen in real life?”

And Yuta parts his lips to reply when your phone rings, and you grab your phone — a video call — Suguru’s name flashing on your screen, and you can’t bite back the smile on your lips, “Hold on, I have to take this — just make yourself comfortable, I’ll be in the bedroom,”

You head into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you, as you pick up the call, “Hey stranger,” you smile as his face comes into view, glasses perched on his nose, as he grins back at you, “I miss you,”

“I miss you too,” he rests his face against his hand, “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk much — there have been a lot of issues popping up because its the first week — a lot of department requests from professors and students alike,”

“Mr. Bigshot Department Head has forgotten about his girlfriend, huh?” you mock pout, and he shakes his head, a longing gaze that makes your breath stutter in your chest.

“I could never forget you — how can I when all I dream about is you?” and you bite your lip, cheeks burning, “did I make you smile?”

“Shut up,” and he laughs, and then you hear a noise from the living room, a clatter that catches your attention.

“What was that?”

You wave him off, “It was just my friend, he’s staying over because of the rain — he’s in the living room,”

And he pauses for a moment, expression unreadable, “Which friend?”

“His name is Yuta — I met him during my first student government meeting — he’s kind of showing me the ropes,” and he nods, his silence palpable, gaze downwards and then it dawns on you, “Are you jealous?”

And his eyes flicker up, “Sweetheart—”

“Oh my god you are, that’s so cute,” you smile, as you delight in the slight dusting of pink that settles over his cheeks — he’s far too pretty for his own good, and your voice softens, “you have nothing to worry about, Suguru — I love you, no one else can even compete,”

He sighs, and you wish you could kiss him, “I know, I know — I’m just,” his brow furrows, his lips stuck in a frown, “I just miss you,”

“Then come over,” you tease, and he gives a small smile.

“You have company,” he reminds you, and you sigh, glancing at the door, “you should go back,”

“I’ll work on inventing an instant teleportation device,” a forced laugh leaves his lips, “Suguru, are you sure—”

He shakes his head, “I’m fine, really, just call me before bed if you have time okay?”

“Yeah of course, I love you,” a genuine smile gracing his lips.

“I love you too,” and you hang up, heading back out to find Yuta watching TV, “sorry about that,”

“It’s fine, is everything okay?” he glances at you, tilting his head, “nothing wrong?”

You shake your head, sitting down beside him, grabbing a cushion to place in your arms, “It was just my boyfriend — he usually calls me around this time,”

Yuta gives a slight nod, “Oh, is he away this weekend?”

“No, we’re long distance — he lives in Kyoto,” you explain, sighing, leaning back on the couch, “that’s why I took the call, otherwise, I would have called whoever back,”

“You don’t have to do that — you should be allowed to do whatever you need to. It’s your home,” and you smile, shaking your head before you toss the pillow at him, “w-what?”

“You’re important too, Yuta — you’re my friend and a guest — I’m not going to just leave you out here by yourself without saying anything,” you hold your hand out, “can I have the remote?” And he passes it to you, fingers brushing, as you flip through more movies and TV, “are you tired at all?”

His gaze stays straight ahead, as he shakes his head, “No, not yet,” and you’re choosing a movie to watch, his fingers clasped over each other — the warmth of your touch still lingering.

And you had no idea that his heart was aching at the thought of you being taken — much like the very someone who had taken you.

~~~

“I understand, Suguru, really I do,” and you did — you always did — but this time, it was a little hard to swallow.

It had been weeks since the two of you had seen each other, not over a screen. It was already a month and half into the new semester — and each time he was supposed to visit you, something or another came up — a faculty event, a staff meeting, grading to do, and god knows what else.

And you could bear it the other times — it wasn’t his fault. He had work to do. He had things he had to take care of with little choice in the matter. And you couldn’t always come to Kyoto either — not with your program in full gear and events for the student government around the corner.

No it wasn’t his fault — but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt — especially with what he was missing.

“I really tried to get time off — and I probably still can make it, but I might run late—“ Suguru’s sighing on the phone, and you know his brow is knit together — mind desperately trying to grasp at a solution, as if he thought hard enough one would emerge that he hadn’t considered.

Your footsteps pause, as you bite back your own sigh, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s okay, really — we can celebrate my birthday the next time—“

“It’s not okay, sweetheart,” he cuts you off, “I’m really going to try to make it. I’ll get my work done, or put it off—“

“I don’t want you jeopardizing work—“

“I’ll be fine, Princess — I want to be with you,” he says so softly that your refusals all but melt, “really, I do,”

You bite your lip, as you continue to make your way, weaving between the students herding towards their next classes, “Okay I just don’t want you stressing out or worrying—“

“I’ll be fine, just, make any plans you want to, okay? I don’t know what time I’ll get there on Saturday, but I’ll be there, okay?”

“You really don’t—“ you’re outside the room for your meeting, leaning against the wall.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, and your lips curl, fully submitting to his whims.

“You really don’t — know what time you’re getting here?” You nailed that — apparently not by his chuckle over the line, as you hear the tapping of his laptop as he checks train times.

He pauses, a rustling of papers, and a sigh, “I’m not sure, but once I’m on my way, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay, that’s fine,” you give a half hearted smile despite the fact no one would see it, “I’m outside my student government meeting, but I’ll talk to you tonight?”

“Of course, good luck with your meeting, and I’ll call you around 8:00 PM?” And the two of you hang up and you’re left with disappointment hanging mid air — like a mystery waiting to be solved, wondering if you’ll be satisfied or saddened.

“What’s wrong?” your gaze snaps up to find Yuta, who offers a small smile, “are you disappointed that our meeting never starts on time? Because you should give up on that now,” you roll your eyes, as he holds the door open for you, and you step past him.

“It’s nothing,” you set your things down, sitting, as he takes his own seat beside you.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Yuta tilts his head, leaning on his arm, a hint of concern across his features in his slightly furrowed brow and pursed lips, “you don’t have to talk about it — but if you want to, I’m here,”

You lean back in your chair, “It’s just my boyfriend — he’s been really busy with work so we haven’t been able to see each other, and now…” your gaze fixes itself to the table in front of you, taking in the faint scratches on the laminate wood, a sigh caught in the back of your throat, “he’s not sure if he’ll make it this weekend for my birthday, he said he would try his best,” and you shake your head, “and I know it’s a little…childish, but—”

“It’s not childish,” he gently cuts you off, “it’s understandable to want to spend your birthday with the person you love,” he leans forward to meet your eyes, “how about this? We can hang out on your birthday until your boyfriend comes down, because I’m sure he will,”

“How do you know?” and other people begin to file into the room, as he offers you a small smile.

“Who would ever keep you waiting?”

~~~~

“You don’t usually call at this time,” you yawn, rolling over in bed, as you hear Suguru rustle on the other end too — it was already late and you had already buried yourself under your comforter, scrolling on your phone before bed (even though you knew very well that you shouldn’t).

“Sorry did I wake you, sweetheart?” and you hum.

“What do I get if you did?” he laughs, his voice making your heart flutter in two seconds flat, “my sleep comes at a very high price, Professor,”

“Oh I know, I’ve paid that price several times, and you have willingly given it to me as well,” your lips curling, you knew he was lying on his back as he always did before bed, arm under his head as he looked up at his ceiling, “what’s the price this time?”

“Video call me,” and he does in an instant, his face popping up on your screen, lips quirked upwards at the sight of your face, glasses perched on his nose.

“Such an easy price this time,” and you yawn, turning over in bed onto your side, hiding your pout in your pillow — god, you wished he was beside you right now.

“The late hour’s making me soft,” you say, a strand of black falling in front of his face, and you only wish you could reach over and run your fingers through his silky strands, “did you need something?”

“I need someone,” and you snort.

“Well, you have me, congratulations,” you turn over onto your back, “now what do you plan to do with me?”

He smiles that same smile that had stolen your heart from the start, “Treasure you? Kiss you? Love you?” and your lips curl again, “apparently get a poodle and a dozen cats with you,”

“That’s a guarantee,” and he smiles.

“If it will make you happy, then yes it is,” you purse your lips, “what?”

“What’s gotten into you?” And his eyes seem to flicker elsewhere for a moment, “Suguru?”

His lips form a full smile, “Happy birthday, princess,” and you blink, glancing at the clock and realizing it was midnight now, “each and every day with you in my life has been the happiest I have ever been and ever hoped to be. I spent my life searching for the meaning of life — but I didn’t find it, until I met you,” his voice is soft as tears burn at the corner of your eyes, “I don’t know what it is that I’m owed — but I don’t know what I did to deserve you,”

“I love you,” you whisper, “I wish I could hold you,” your fingers caress the screen, as if your touch could teach through it, and he presses a kiss to his hand.

“I love you too — and I promise I’ll hold you soon,” he lays back on his bed, “you’ll be sick of me soon enough,”

“Never,” you settle onto your pillow, “will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?”

He only smiles, “Anything for you.”

~~~

Anything but being able to be here by lunch or dinner at this rate. You checked your phone — only to find his last message — “I’m almost done. I’ll let you know when I leave for the station,”

But it had been over two hours and there had been no update — even after you had texted him twice to ask where he was. You were caught between worry and disappointment — anxiety pricking at your skin, enough to annoy but not enough to pierce through to full panic. And disappointment felt like a weight that hovered above your heart, close enough to feel, but not enough to hit yet.

You didn’t want to feel this. It wasn’t his fault. You knew that he was trying — and you didn’t resent him in the least for it. But that didn’t mean you wanted him here any less — especially after it had been almost two months without seeing each other.

And a knock at your door made your eyes snap over, as you tripped over yourself to get to the door, “Who is it?”

“It’s me—“ but it wasn’t Suguru — it was Yuta. And you opened the door, a small smile on your lips, as Yuta stood in a black sweater tucked into dark gray jeans, and a deep maroon jacket pulled over it, “happy birthday,”

“Oh, thanks—“ and you blink, “oh my god, we had plans I’m sorry — I forgot,” you groan, and he leans sideways to take a look at your apartment, spotting the blanket on your couch and a pillow.

“Did I interrupt your date with your couch?” you roll your eyes.

“You did actually, it was a good one too—“ he cuts you off with a look, “I don’t know if I really want to go out. I was thinking I’d just—“

“What? Sit here and become one with your couch?” he raises an eyebrow.

You pout, “Yuta, I don’t know. I think I rather stay home—“

And that’s what you had done all day — Suguru had checked in here and there — trying desperately to finish up work to make it for some part of your birthday but hadn’t checked in for two hours now. You were sure he was going to be on his way soon — but that didn’t make waiting any less depressing. Your phone even had sighed at you as you checked your messages for the millionth time to find no new ones — low battery life only taunting you in return.

“That’s what you’ve done all day — I’m sure your boyfriend would want you to go out and have fun—“ he crosses his arms in front of your doorway, “come on, we can just go watch a movie, no big deal — we can have some fun and kill a few hours, okay?”

And you stare at your phone again, before locking it — “let’s go,”

~~~~

Finally, Suguru sat down right as the train began to roll forward — he had barely made it. The meetings stacked up the day before had put far behind on his grading — he nearly couldn’t make it.

Not if he hadn’t stayed up until 3:00 AM.

He checked his phone — he should make it by 5:00 PM, which should leave plenty of time for dinner and he checked his bag for your gift — it was just what you wanted — a necklace you had pointed out to him, a dragon with multi-colored gems. He laid against the seat, his forehead leaning against the cool glass.

God, he missed you.

It had been too long. Since he had even seen your face not through his phone screen and heard your voice whisper in his ear not through his cellphone. But that’s all he saw and heard of you lately.

He didn’t know the department would be this much of a mess when he took over. The last department head was truly enjoying his retirement months before it began. It was enough he had his department head duties but to teach two classes on top of that was enough for work to pile up until it was untenable. And he was unavailable.

How many times had he fallen asleep on the phone with you? How many times had he canceled plans to come see you? How many times had he missed dates?

And how many more would there be?

He knew you said everything was fine, he knew you understood his circumstance, he knew it wouldn’t be forever — but still — he wrung his fingers in his lap — why did it feel like it already had been forever? Since he had seen you smile, seen you laugh, held your hand, kissed your lips — it felt as if you were disappearing from his grasp.

But he wouldn’t let it happen — he couldn’t.

~~~

“Please turn your cellphone off and place it in these bags before entering the movie,” the ticket attendant told you and Yuta as he handed you both your tickets for something called, Human Earthworm 4, handing you both phone pouches.

You knit your brow together, “But—”

“This is an early screening of the movie, so the staff has been told that all persons seeing this movie today must lock their phones in these pouches before entering the theater,” the attendant explains, gesturing to the cardboard cutout of the movie with a sign that said ‘early screening’ in bold letters, “otherwise you could exchange your tickets for a different movie,” you purse your lips — you had been looking forward to seeing this movie, especially early. And Yuta had even bought the tickets ahead of time after hearing you talk about it at one of the student government meetings.

Yuta’s eyes slide to you, “We can see another—”

“It’s fine,” you shake your head, giving a small smile, “Let me just send a quick text,” you step away for a moment, texting Suguru — I’m going into a movie, I have to turn off my phone. Let me know when you’re on the train.

You lock your phone with a sigh, placing it in the bag — either way, he hadn’t texted, so you were sure he wasn’t on the train yet. And you weren’t sure if he would even make it. It was fine — you glanced at Yuta, walking over to the movie theater — it really was.

Because it wouldn’t be forever.

~~~~

The screech of the train jerks Suguru awake, his eyes burning, as he glances out the window — the sun beginning to give up the sky already, starting its descent. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand as he checks the time — fuck, it had been an hour already. He leans back, glancing through his notifications and he sees a text from you.

Fuck, he had forgotten to respond to your messages earlier. He was a mess trying to get to the station, a flurry of papers, caffeine, and adrenaline — and he had spotted your messages before he left the office, only to make a mental note to reply once he was on the train. Where that note had been left in the recesses of his mind he could only guess.

He types: I’m so sorry, sweetheart — in my rush to get here, I didn’t let you know — I’m on the train already—

And then he pauses, he could surprise you — at your apartment. You’d be home after about an hour it seemed by the time he got to your place — it was perfect. He could pick up your cake (the one he had pre-ordered) and set everything up just in time — and then he could take you out for the dinner he had promised you.

He deletes the text, rewriting it — I’m so sorry sweetheart. I just finished work. I should be there by 7:00 PM. I love you. I’ll see you soon, birthday girl.

He sends the message, a smile on his lips — maybe there was something special he could do today, as he watches the train continue on its way.

He only hoped it would work out in his favor.

~~~

“It was perfect — the metaphor? Did you not see the metaphor?” Yuta nodding along to your rant as the two of you make it back to your apartment, “I know it seems like a dumb movie but if you read between the lines—” and you glance at Yuta, who continues to nod, and you stare, “you hated the movie, didn’t you?”

“No, no, I didn’t—” and then you raise an eyebrow, “it was really bad — have you seen good movies before?”

You laugh, shaking your head, “There’s no accounting for taste,”

“Clearly,” he replies, and you push him playfully, crossing your arms, as he grins back at you, “well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, that’s the important part,”

“And you got to bully me about my movie taste so that’s a lovely end to the evening,” he snorts, as the two of you make it outside your apartment door, “thanks for dragging me out — it was really nice,” you dig in your bag for your keys, “it was fun,”

“I’m glad I could help — I hope I made your day a little better,”

“You already do that by just being you, Yuta,” you pull your keys out, your phone slipping out with it — “shoot,” you kneel down and Yuta does too, fingers brushing as you pick it up — as your phone springs back to life, “shit, I guess i forgot to turn it back on,” as you rise, beginning to unlock your door as your texts start to come through — and you blink, right as you turn the knob, slowly reading the first message as you open the door only spotting Suguru’s back through the crack in the door.

Fuck. And you quickly shut the door.

“You okay?” Your eyes flicker up, forcing a small smile, as Yuta tilts his head.

“Yeah, sorry — my boyfriend is inside I think,” your mind in a dizzying panic, “I should go talk to him, alone,” you shift from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward — but it seems to work, as Yuta nods.

“Right, of course, I”ll go,” he bites his lip, “let me know if you need anything ok?” And he’s gone, as you turn back around, taking a beat, before you open the door.

“Surprise?” you say, and Suguru is holding a cake with lit candles, lights dimmed, a small smile on his lips.

“I think that’s supposed to be my line,” he frowns at the expression on your face, “what’s—” and you shake your head, walking over.

“We’ll talk about that later,” you stand in front of him and your cake, “All I want to focus on is you and my cake,” and your lips curl, “and I believe I’m owed a song?”

“Happy birthday to you,” he sings softly, jawline illuminated by the low light of the candle, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, my dear sweetheart,” and you bite back a grin, “Happy birthday to you,” he holds the cake up a little higher, “make a wish,”

You hum, “I don’t know what to wish for,” you blow out your candles, before taking the cake from his hands and placing it down before slipping into his arms, “I have everything I want right here.”

~~~

Suguru had almost gotten it right. Almost.

“Yuta almost saw you earlier,” you admit, “he didn’t, I realized before and made an excuse but,” you sigh, as the two of you sit on the couch, your fork toying with your slice of cake, “it was close,”

Close. Close to revealing your relationship. Lose to jeopardizing your future. Close to ruining your friendship. It was far too close — or was he far too close to you?

His brow knit together, “I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have let myself in and I should have texted earlier—“

“It’s not your fault, Suguru, it’s fine,” you offer a smile, “I don’t even mind if Yuta knows — he’s a good friend,”

“But still—“ you drag a finger through frosting and place a dollop on his nose, “sweetheart—“

“Let’s not focus on that right now. This is the first time I got to see you in weeks,” you lean over and lick the frosting from the tip of his nose, a warmth spreading across his face from your touch, “I want to enjoy the rest of my birthday with my boyfriend, okay?”

But he still couldn’t bring himself to pull away — not now.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips — it had been far too long since he had felt the soft press of your lips against his own. He could taste the frosting, the sickly sweetness didn’t begin to compare to your taste, and how much he had ached for it.

But it also didn’t stop him from dragging a finger dipped in frosting across your cheek.

“Suguru!” You gape at him, looking utterly too adorable with your pout and the frosting across your cheek, “on my birthday too?”

“Well, you’re so sweet, I wanted to see if it was possible for you to be even sweeter,” and he leans over licking the frosting from your cheek, “looks like it’s not possible—“ and you swallow his sentence with a kiss, as your plate and fork clatter as you set it down on your coffee table, climbing into his lap, your knees on either side, “our reservation — we’ll be late,” even so his hands drag down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I think I want dessert first,” you murmur, before finding his lips in a kiss again.

It’s hours later, and you’re fast asleep beside him, your face buried against the crook of his neck, as Suguru runs his fingers through your hair. But he can’t sleep. Not when he keeps thinking about what you said.

You didn’t deserve this. To spend days waiting for your boyfriend to be free, to spend your time wondering when he would be able to call you, to spend your time stressed out at the idea of getting caught. A relationship should be easier, it should be fun — but you haven’t had either since he had to move.

His fingers brushes against the curve of your cheek and then tracing the chain of the necklace, thumbing the dragon charm. He loves you — he loves you, but was it enough when you deserved so much more? How many more things would he miss because of work? How many more things would you hide because you didn’t want him to feel guilty? How many more times would he let you?

He had felt you slipping from his fingers these last few weeks — he presses a kiss to your forehead — but he had never considered whether he should let you go.

Until now.

~~~

Can we call tonight? I miss you.

Suguru glances at his phone, students already filed in and sitting, the quiet chatter before class began. It had been like this for a week. He locked his phone, tucking it away in his pockets.

“If you all will sit and settle down, we’ll begin today’s lecture,” he says to the class, “we’re going to continue our discussion from last class on Scanlon — we’ll start with any questions left from our conversation,”

Several hands fly up, and he chooses one to speak, “I had a question,”

He blinks, spotting you amongst his students, “What are you—“

“Professor, you haven’t let me ask my question,” you pout, as you lean against the desk, arms crossed, “I need to understand the material to pass, don’t I?”

All replies get stuck in his throat — as words fail him, as they always did with you. He’s only able to nod. And you smile, lips curling wide.

“Scanlon posits the question “what do we owe to each other?’ But there is no one answer — we are meant to figure that on our own,” you lean back in your chair, “and I believe I’m owed at least a text back,”

The students’ quiet murmurings and piercing stares drawing heat up his neck, and you were the one who lit the match, flames licking at your heels.

“Sweetheart—“

“Do you get to call me that after how you’ve treated me?” you scoff, as you slide from your chair onto your feet, “no visit in weeks, barely any phone calls, and once we even got on the phone, you would fall asleep. Have you asked how I’ve been? How have I dealt with all of this? Do you even know how my semester is going?”

His mouth is a desert, and his words have all but deserted him — as he fumbles for any syllables he could grasp onto, but finds none. Because he has no excuses to be made.

You walk down the stairs of the lecture hall, as the slow steps you take ring in his ears, “do you know what I’m risking? My reputation, my career, my future — for what? For you? I know my answer to what I want in life. I know my answer is you — can you say the same?”

And the class is gone — and it’s only the two of you.

“I’d do anything for you, I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to. I—“ his voice breaks, and your hand finds his cheek, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

“Except let me go, apparently.”

RING. RING. RING.

His eyes flutter open, a breath caught in his throat, as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before reaching blindly for his phone. He glanced at the screen now, turning off the alarm, spotting a text from you at the top.

Morning Sugu — I miss you <3, can we call tonight?

And he stares at your message before locking his screen and placing his phone down and turning around.

He needed to talk to you.

~~~~

“You’ve checked your phone like for the millionth and one time,” your eyes find Yuta’s as the two of you continue to put up flyers for the student government hosted dinner later in the week, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” and he stares at you, “what?” And then you sigh, “my boyfriend — it just feels like he’s been avoiding me, and I don’t know why,”

“Have you asked him why?” He holds a flier and tapes it a bulletin board outside, and you shake your head, “maybe you should try,”

“I want to, I just never get a chance to — he’s been so busy with work and I haven’t—“ and you sigh — it had been over a week since you and Suguru had even spoken on the phone, much less even video called, “I feel like something’s wrong — something is bothering him,” your voice falters, as you swallow your emotions, a sigh on your lips, “I don’t know,”

Yuta takes a pause, stealing a glance at you, before he turns to look, “You’ll only know if you ask — and the longer you wait, the harder it will be to be honest,” he glances away, “trust me,”

You crumple the flier in your hand, squeezing, “I’m just scared of the answer,” you admit. It had been so difficult to get to this point — tears roll down your cheeks — to see Suguru slip away because of this would be too much.

“I know,” Yuta says softly, as he gently places his hand on your shoulder, “but you still need it regardless,”

And then you hear a voice call your name, and you wipe your tears hurriedly as Yuta pulls his hand away, your gaze snapping over to see Professor Yaga and—

Suguru?

~~~

“Look who’s here for a meeting,” Yaga says, clapping a hand to Suguru’s shoulder, “did you hear that Professor Geto had become department head of the Kyoto sister university?”

And Suguru knew you very well had — but you hadn’t heard he’d come here for a meeting. To be fair, he didn’t know until this morning — but to be even more fair, he had plenty of time to tell you. But he didn’t — because he was hoping he wouldn’t see you, not like this.

“I did,” you force a smile, “it’s good to see you, Professor Geto, how have you been?”

You’re a natural at acting as if nothing is the matter — but he’s become a master at seeing right through it. He spotted the way your fingers wiped away your tears, your red rimmed eyes, and the plastered on smile that was nearly pulling into a frown. He resisted the urge to purse his lips — he had wondered for a split second what had made you cry? Until he saw the flicker of a glare in your gaze, and he knew he was the reason.

And it was yet another reason he needed to end this.

And this — Suguru’s eyes flicker between you and your friend — was the friend he assumed was Yuta, his brow knit in confusion, “I’ve been well — it’s good to see you, I hope the semester has gone well for you?”

You shrug, your expression unreadable, “Well enough, you know how the semester goes — it’s very busy around this time. Easy for things to slip through the cracks,” and he forces his gaze to not waver.

“Very true, it’s important to keep on top of things,”

“Especially the important things,” you give both him and Professor Yaga a stiff smile, “It’s good to see you both, but we have more flyers to hang up for the event coming up later this week,” you take Yuta’s hand, “if you’ll excuse us,” and the two of you disappear off around the corner.

“It was good to see her, wasn’t it?” Professor Yaga says, a smile on his lips, “she’s come a long way after your class — she was already an excellent student, but now, I see even brighter things on her horizon,” as he continues to walk down the hallway in the opposite direction, and Suguru spares a single glance over his shoulder, before pulling out his phone and texting you:

Can we talk later? I’ll let you know where.

“It was.”

~~~~

“Old habits die hard?” you sat on Suguru’s old desk as he walked in, your arms crossed in front of you. And Suguru tilts his head, closing the door behind him.

“Did something happen in this room?” and you roll your eyes, as he steps forward, “ah, yes, you’re referring to your grades right?”

“Yes, my grades — I’m still upset about that 99,” but the playfulness all but dies on your lips as he draws close, your eyes unable to meet his gaze, as if you would see some truth you weren’t ready to uncover, “Suguru, what’s going on?”

“Sweetheart—”

“You’ve been distant since my birthday, avoiding calling me, you barely text me — and today, you didn’t even tell me you were in Tokyo,” your voice breaks — even if you had thought what you wanted to say to him a million times today — it didn’t make it any easier, “are you upset with me?”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he’s shaking his head, as he cups your cheeks, “you didn’t do anything except be completely wonderful,” he swallows, voice catching, as he seems to struggle with his words, “and that’s why I have to let you go,”

The sentence repeats in your mind over and over — and you still can’t make sense of it. No, no, it didn’t make sense. Why would he want to break up?

One word was all you could manage to respond with — “What?”

“Sweetheart, you deserve someone who can be there for you, someone who will be there with you when you need them, who will call you, prioritize you, give you all of their energy — and with this distance—”

“We can make it work—” and you know you’re crying now, tears rolling down his knuckles, filling the chasm he’s making between the two of you.

He’s running his fingers through his hair, “You’re making this work — I’m trying too but I haven’t been able to visit you, I haven’t been able to see you or talk to you properly in weeks—”

“It’s not forever, it won’t be like this. I’m almost done with my degree, I can move down to Kyoto—”

“And I don’t want you to limit your options because of me and my career,” he cuts you off gently, as his thumb rubs back and forth, wiping your tears away, “you have such a wonderful future ahead of you — whether you decide to pursue a Ph.D. or a lecturer position or whatever else — I want you to make that decision without my presence being a factor—”

“But—” and he’s pressing his lips to you softly, it’s gentle and sweet — his hands holding you as if you would break apart in his fingers before him, as his lips finally part yours “Suguru, I know what I’m doing—”

“I know, but so do I,” he murmurs, as he begins to step away from you, his warmth leaving your body, “if it’s easier for you to hate me, hate me — if it’s easier to be indifferent, be indifferent — I just can’t hold you back, sweetheart. I can’t do that to you — whether it’s professionally or personally,”

“Suguru, you’re not letting me have a say in this,” and he takes your hands, lacing your fingers together, “I want this, I know it’s been hard, but don’t you want this too?”

“I do — I love you, but that’s why I can’t do that to you. I want you to be happy—”

“Even if it comes at the cost of your own happiness?” you scoff, “Are you subscribing to utilitarianism? Are you okay being a happiness pump?” Your fingers try to find purchase on his cheek, but he pulls away, hands falling away from yours.

“I am, if it means you’re happy, then I am,” Suguru whispers, glancing away from him, “it’s not worth the risk,”

Your words are quiet, as you swallow your tears, and you force your voice to be steady, “You’re making this about me — when it’s about you too,” you brush past him, “I didn’t expect you to be a coward, Suguru, but I suppose, I got the answer I deserve.”

And the door shuts behind you, tears burning as you walk off — and you know that he wouldn’t follow.

But you still hoped he would.

~~~

Suguru stands by the window, watching students file in and out of the building.

It was the right thing to do. That’s what he kept telling himself — over and over and over. But if it was so right, then why did he feel wrong? Wrong for breaking your heart. Wrong for letting you wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He spent his time debating amongst others what right and wrong really was, but he always knew there would never be an answer.

And then he spots you leaving the building, before you bump into someone who stops you, your head down, but it doesn’t work, as the person pulls you into a hug. And he knew who it was — it was that student from earlier — Yuta. He had seen the way he looked at you — the same softness that Suguru had recognized because he saw it in himself.

He knew you deserved better, just because you were his answer —- he watched you sink into Yuta’s arms — doesn’t mean he was yours.

✧ a/n: ahhh the anticipated fourth part!! there’s gonna be one more part of the main series and then it’s onto extra credit fics :). Don’t worry it will be a happy ending!! I promise!

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot t, @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries ,

#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x you #suguru geto fanfiction #jjk smut #Jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x reader #geto suguru smut

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junkissed · 3 months

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ocean view

member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!

they say time flies when you’re having fun.

it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.

but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.

what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.

the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.

you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.

“next round is on me!”

all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.

you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.

you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.

the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.

it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.

it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain.

"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”

“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”

“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.

"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”

he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."

"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.

he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”

it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.

"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”

your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”

"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"

she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."

jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”

she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.

her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”

she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”

“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”

jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.

she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”

she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”

she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”

you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.

“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”

immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?

"hey, wait, so what does—”

you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.

"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.

"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"

you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"

jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand.

with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.

after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore.

"well…” jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."

"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"

he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"

you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.”

it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.

the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.

his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.

he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.

jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.

he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.

his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.

he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.

your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.

he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin.

you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.

the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.

you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.

his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.

despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body.

but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.

jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.

he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.

his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.

you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily.

after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.

you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.

his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair.

his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.

he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.

you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.

after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.

you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.

his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.

“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.

now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.

his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.

he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.

“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.

the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.

you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.

“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.

you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.

his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.

you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.

but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.

after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.

he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.

his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.

he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.

“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.

the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”

everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.

“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.

jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.

he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.

the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.

he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.

he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.

“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.

you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”

you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh.

you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.

you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.

instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.

you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.

“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”

you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.

jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.

it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.

you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.

jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.

there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.

after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.

“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.

but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.

he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.

and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.

it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.

“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.

“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob.

he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.

the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.

“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”

you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”

“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”

“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”

a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”

you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”

“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”

you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”

“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”

“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.

jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.

he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.

he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.

and then he sees you.

not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.

he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.

the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.

he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.

“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”

“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”

“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.

mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”

“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.

the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.

mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”

“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.

you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again.

you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.

you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.

“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.

your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.

you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.

he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”

you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.

finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.

“it’s nice to meet you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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