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brunchable · 8 months ago

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How To Impress a 21st Century Girl.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Themes: Rom-Com, Fluff, Mutual Pining(Heavy?), First Date, Flirtation and Playfulness.

Summary: Sam had forced Bucky to use Tinder to solve his abysmal love life. Bucky tells himself that if third time isn't a charm, he will officially give up trying to find a partner.

A/N: I'm a sucker for rom-coms, I hope you guys enjoyed this because I enjoyed writing it.

tags: @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917

It had all been Sam’s idea. "Come on, man. You need to get back out there!" Sam had said, way too enthusiastically, while setting up a Tinder profile for him without even asking. Bucky had resisted at first, arguing that dating apps probably weren't his thing. But Sam was persistent, reminding him that it was 2024, not 1944, and that "no one meets in grocery stores anymore."

Reluctantly, Bucky had gone along with it, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try. What was the worst that could happen?

Well, now he knew.

Bucky was starting to think Tinder was out to get him. His first two dates had been disasters—and not just normal awkwardness, but spectacularly bad. The first girl, Jenny, had brought her ex-boyfriend to the date. Apparently, he was her ride, and they were still "good friends." Bucky had spent two hours third-wheeling a reunion he hadn’t signed up for. The second girl, Alicia, had a collection of ceramic frogs. And when Bucky said “collection,” he meant obsession. The girl spent an entire dinner showing him photos of different frog figurines. It was ribbiting. Literally. One of them even made croaking sounds.

So, now here he was, on date number three, standing outside some trendy café, wondering what fresh nightmare awaited him. This time, though, he’d let you plan the date. Maybe handing over control would be better than having to smile through another amphibian-themed dinner.

You showed up right on time, and Bucky was genuinely relieved to see no ex-boyfriend hovering in the background. You were wearing a paneled knit dress with spaghetti straps that hugged you just right, and your short hair was perfectly tousled. You smiled at him, but the look on your face told him you were just as unsure as he was.

“Hi,” you greeted, and Bucky instantly forgot every single normal response. Holy shit he is TALL.

“Hey, I’m Bucky.” he mumbled back. He was really nailing this whole dating thing.

You walked inside, and the café had that minimalist vibe. A lot of plants. A lot of exposed brick. The kind of place where you’re not sure if you’re supposed to sit or admire the interior design.

As you both sat down, Bucky tried to channel his inner suave. He could do this. He had faced way worse than an awkward date. Like alien invasions. Like that one time he lost his arm again. This was nothing.

Except... why was talking to an attractive woman harder than fighting off super soldiers?

“I, uh, like your dress,” Bucky said, already feeling the heat creep up his neck. Nice, Barnes, real original.

“Thanks,” you replied, with an amused smile playing on your lips. “I like your... jacket.”

Bucky nodded, looking down at his worn leather jacket. “Yeah. It’s... warm.”

Warm? That’s what you’re going with? He mentally slapped himself. This was going well. So well. He tried to change the subject and scanned the menu. “Uh... so, what’s good here?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “The internet said they have good coffee, though.”

“Internet reviews, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s always a gamble. Could be great... could be a disaster.”

Cue the awkward silence.

The waiter had barely placed the food in front of you both before the quiet tension stretched between you like you were sitting in a library, not a café. Bucky poked at his bagel as if it might come to life at any moment, while you took a delicate sip of your coffee, your eyes darting between him and the wall behind him.

You both chewed in the most nonchalant way possible, each of you hyper-aware of the silence that was growing louder by the second. You were mentally cursing every decision that led to this exact moment, and Bucky, for his part, was questioning whether retiring from the whole Avenger thing had been a mistake.

Say something. Anything, Bucky thought, taking another bite of his bagel, which suddenly felt like chewing rubber. Ask about herr favorite food? No, that’s boring. Comment on the weather? Oh, yeah, nothing like ‘Hey, it’s been cold lately,’ to really sweep her off her feet. Real smooth.

Meanwhile, you were trying to figure out how you managed to forget how to make normal conversation. Maybe ask him about his hobbies? No, that’s basic. Compliment his hair? What are you, in fifth grade? Pull yourself together!

Bucky, still chewing the world’s driest bagel, caught your eye for a split second, and you both did that polite half-smile thing that happens when you’re not sure whether you should talk or continue pretending to enjoy the food.

Did she just smile at me because I’m being awkward, or am I overthinking this? Bucky wondered, immediately breaking eye contact and pretending his coffee was the most fascinating thing on the table.

You, on the other hand, were screaming internally. Oh God, did I smile too weird? Was it the kind of smile that says, ‘I like you,’ or the one that says, ‘I’m trapped in this date and don’t know how to escape’?

You both took another sip of your drinks at the exact same time.

Alright, Barnes, get it together. Say something smart, Bucky told himself, putting his mug down carefully.

“So, uh... how’s your coffee?”

You blinked, your brain scrambling for a response. How’s my coffee? It’s coffee. Just say it’s good. Don’t overthink it.

“It’s... good. How’s your bagel?”

Bucky looked down at the circular piece of bread like it had personally betrayed him. “It’s... round.”

Round? Really? You went with ‘round’? Smooth, real smooth, he chastised himself, nodding like he had just made the most profound statement about bagels ever.

Your lips twitched. Did he just describe his food as ‘round’? Okay, maybe I’m not the only one struggling here.

You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide your smile. God, this is like watching two middle schoolers on a first date.

You both glanced at each other again. Smile. Look away. Silence.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Alright, clearly, she thinks I’m a complete idiot. But it’s fine. I can recover. Just... find a topic. Literally any topic.

You picked at your napkin. Okay, maybe I should mention the escape room next. But what if he hates escape rooms? What if he thinks they’re boring? You cleared your throat slightly, ready to speak, but then—

Bucky cleared his throat at the same time. You both froze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.

“You go first,” Bucky said quickly.

“No, no, you first,” you insisted, waving your hand.

Bucky’s brain blanked. He blinked, searching for anything to say. “Uh... did you... park nearby?”

You stared at him, and then a smile slowly spread across your face. Did he really just ask me about parking? You nodded. “No I–um took public transport. Did you?”

Bucky gave a stiff nod. “Yeah. Close. Very close. Super convenient.”

You both stared at each other for a beat, and then, in a miraculous moment, you both cracked up at the exact same time.

“Parking?” you laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the best we’ve got?”

Bucky held up his hands. “Hey, I panicked, okay? The bagel threw me off.”

You wiped a tear from your eye, your shoulders shaking with laughter. “And I thought the frogs were bad.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh harder. “Okay, in my defense, this date is way better than ceramic frogs.”

“Glad to be the non-frog date.” You raised your cup in mock salute.

You both chuckled, and for the first time, the awkward tension seemed to melt away. Sure, you were a bit of a mess, but at least you were a mess together.

As you calmed down, you leaned forward, a playful grin on your face. “So, what’s next? You ready for the escape room?”

“I dunno. Should I be worried?” Bucky smirked, feeling a lot lighter.

“Only if you’re bad at puzzles,” you teased.

Bucky crossed his arms, leaning back with a smirk. “Oh, trust me, I think I’ll manage.”

And with that, you both finally stood up to head for the next part of your date, the awkwardness left behind with the round bagel and the overly complicated coffee.

× × × ×

As soon as you stepped into the Asylum escape room, the mood shifted from "awkward first date" to "this might be how I die."

Oh, great. Creepy hospital décor. Perfect first-date vibes. You eyed the flickering lights and eerie medical tools scattered around the room, trying not to let on how much it was creeping you out. At least it’s better than ceramic frogs, you thought, glancing at Bucky.

“This is supposed to be the hardest escape room they have,” you said, glancing at Bucky. “Takes most people at least an hour. You ready for this?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean... it’s puzzles, right? How hard can it be?” Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calm. I’ve literally fought aliens. How bad could a few puzzles be?

“You’ve never done one of these before, right?” You looked at him, a bit skeptical.

He shook his head. “First time. But, uh... I’m good under pressure.” Under pressure? What am I saying? I sound like I’m about to defuse a bomb, not solve a riddle. Get a grip, Barnes.

“Alright. Let’s do this.” You smiled, trying to hide your own nerves.

The clock started ticking, and immediately, you were plunged into darkness. A loud creak echoed through the room, followed by a voice over the intercom: “Welcome to the Asylum. You have 60 minutes to escape. Good luck... you’ll need it.”

Perfect. Creepy voice? Check. Flickering lights? Check. Yep, I'm doomed. You moved toward a stack of papers, squinting at the dim lighting. “Okay, first thing’s first... we need to find the clues hidden in this room to unlock the door.”

Before you could even start, Bucky was already inspecting a random pipe on the wall. He tugged at it, and it came loose, revealing a hidden key taped to the back. Oh, that was... lucky? Or did I just break something?

You froze mid-step. “Wait. How did you—”

“I... uh... just pulled on it.” Bucky looked just as surprised as you. Did I just accidentally solve this?

“Okay. Lucky guess.” You stared at him.

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe.” Play it cool, Barnes. Don't look like you’re clueless here.

You both moved into the next room, which had even creepier décor. Faint writing on the walls, jars filled with unidentifiable things, and a mannequin in the corner that Bucky immediately side-eyed like it was going to jump out at you. Okay, I don’t trust that mannequin. Why’s it looking at me like that?

You picked up a piece of paper with some cryptic writing on it. “This says something about finding the light within the dark. I think it’s a clue. We need to—”

“Found it,” Bucky called out.

You turned to see him holding up a blacklight. How does he keep doing this?!

“They always hide something with a blacklight, right?” He grinned, flashing the light on the wall, revealing a series of glowing numbers. That’s a thing, right? People hide stuff with these lights all the time... right?

“Oh, you’re just full of ideas now, huh?” You crossed your arms, smirking.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. “Just... using my instincts.” Yep. Totally knew that.

You worked through the next few puzzles, but by "worked," what you really meant was Bucky accidentally stumbling into the solutions. Every time you tried to figure out a clue, Bucky would casually touch something, pull a lever, or press a random button that—surprise—opened the next door or revealed the next key. At first, you thought he was joking. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear: Bucky was somehow solving the escape room by sheer dumb luck—or so you thought.

This is starting to freak me out... Am I secretly a genius? Bucky thought.

At one point, you were trying to decipher a complicated code etched into the wall, mumbling to yourself about numerology and patterns, when Bucky—completely oblivious—pulled a book off the shelf, and a hidden door creaked open in the floor.

No. No way. “Are you—” You blinked. “Did you just—”

Bucky glanced at the open trapdoor, confused. “What? Was that not supposed to happen?”

You slapped your forehead. “No! I mean, yes, but—oh my God, Bucky, you’re breaking the game.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose!” Seriously, I just touched a book. How is that a thing?

You looked down at the trapdoor, then back at him. “What are you? A puzzle savant? Did you plan this?”

Bucky laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Nah, I just thought the book looked weird.” Great, now she thinks I’m some kind of escape room wizard.

You gaped at him. “The book looked weird?” Weird? Dude, I’m starting to think you have X-ray vision.

“I mean... yeah. It was dusty.” It wasn’t even that weird... or was it?

You squinted at him, hands on your hips. “You’re telling me you spotted a dusty book and thought, ‘Aha! Hidden door.’?”

“Isn’t that... what you’re supposed to do in these rooms?” Bucky shrugged, looking genuinely sorry. Please tell me that's how this works.

This man is unbelievable. You stared at him for a long moment before bursting out laughing. “Oh my God. You’re accidentally good at this. You’re just walking around solving stuff like you do this every weekend!”

Bucky chuckled, his shoulders relaxing a little. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m glad she’s laughing. “I swear I’ve never done this before.” This isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me this week.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified,” you teased, stepping closer to him. “You’re like a walking cheat code.” Sure, Sherlock. Whatever you say.

“Hey, I’m just here to help.” He smiled, clearly enjoying your reaction. At least she’s impressed. That’s something.

I think you might secretly be a robot. You shook your head, grinning. “Alright, escape room prodigy, let’s see if you can crack the last one.”

You entered the final room—a dimly lit chamber with a creepy-looking mannequin in the corner and random medical equipment scattered around. You narrowed your eyes.

“Okay, this is the hardest part. No way you’re going to just... guess your way out of this one.”

“Yeah, this one’s. . . tricky.” Bucky glanced around, clearly trying to look casual. Please don’t let me stumble into the solution again...

Please don’t let him find the solution immediately. Just this once.

You pointed at the mannequin. “We need to find a code hidden somewhere in this room. The clue says it’s ‘locked in the mind.’ So it has to be something mental, right? Like a puzzle?”

Bucky stared at the mannequin for a second, then slowly reached out and twisted its head off. Inside, there was a slip of paper with the code on it. Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Are you KIDDING me?!” Your jaw dropped.

“I just thought... you know... maybe the head comes off?” Bucky held up the paper, looking sheepish.

Why am I even here?! You threw your hands up in the air. “Of COURSE the head comes off! Because that makes total sense! Sure!”

Bucky bit back a laugh. “Well, it did say ‘locked in the mind.’” Technically, I was right.

You glared at him, then shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “Okay, that’s it. You’re banned from escape rooms. You ruin them.”

“Ruined it?” Bucky asked, grinning. “We escaped, didn’t we?” She’s totally impressed, even if she won’t admit it.

“We escaped in twelve minutes, Bucky! Twelve!” You slapped his arm playfully. “That’s not normal!”

He laughed, ducking his head. “Sorry?” Guess I’m not so bad at this ‘fun date’ thing.

As you both stepped out of the escape room, the staff was standing there, looking like they’d just witnessed the impossible.

“You’re... done?” Pink-haired Girl asked, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Wow. They look like I just told them Santa isn’t real, Bucky thought.

You, just as confused, looked over at Bucky. “Uh. . .yeah, I guess?”

“Looks like it.” Bucky gave a casual shrug. No big deal. Just casually shattering dreams.

Clipboard Guy checked his stopwatch again, his mouth hanging open. “Twelve minutes. No. That’s not possible. People are supposed to break down in there. We’ve had people cry!”

Cry? What is this, an escape room or emotional boot camp? “You want me to go back in and tear up a little? You know, for the full experience?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“People have left that room emotionally damaged. You just... strolled out.” Pink-haired Girl blinked.

You stared at Bucky, still wrapping your head around it. “I didn’t even get through the first clue, and you were already unlocking half the room.”

“You were working hard. I just sped things up a bit.” Bucky chuckled softly, glancing at you with a playful smile. I mean, you were giving it a solid effort...

The Master of Puzzles guy appeared, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Did you... have the answers beforehand? Because that’s the hardest room we’ve got. We’ve had people rage-quit in there.”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, looking amused. “Nah, just good at finding my way out of things.”

“I didn’t even do anything. You solved the whole thing!” You shook your head, still half-laughing, half in disbelief.

“Hey, you were a great moral support.” Bucky smiled at you, nudging you lightly. Seriously, though, it’s good to have someone to watch while I dismantle a room’s dignity.

Clipboard Guy muttered, “We’re gonna have to ban him. He’s banned.”

Oh no, I’ve ruined their sacred puzzle temple.

“He broke the hardest room we’ve got. Who even does that?” Pink-haired Girl nodded, still dumbfounded.

“Well, I’d offer to go back and struggle a bit, but... I don’t think it’d be convincing.” Bucky smirked, leaning casually against the counter. Trust me, I can’t fake being bad at something. Even if I tried.

As you headed for the exit, Bucky held the door open for you, giving the staff one last glance before he leaned over to you, voice low.

“What? You wanted to be stuck in there all night?”

“Honestly? It would’ve been nice to solve at least one puzzle.” You groaned, though you were smiling.

“Next time, I’ll let you have the first clue. Promise.” Bucky chuckled softly. And by let you, I mean I’ll stand far away from everything and try not to accidentally win.

“You better.” You laughed, shaking your head as you both stepped out into the night.

× × × ×

The arcade was buzzing with lights, sounds, and the faint scent of popcorn. It was a complete shift from the eerie asylum escape room, and you were already eyeing the rows of flashing machines and claw games with glee.

Alright, this is more like it. No creepy mannequins here, just good old-fashioned fun.

Bucky, on the other hand, looked around like he had just entered a foreign world. The last time he’d been in an arcade, they didn’t have all this flashing neon or half the games that were here now. What happened to the simple stuff? Pinball machines and jukeboxes. Now I’ve got ten-foot robots staring at me while kids slap buttons like their lives depend on it.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile at how excited you looked. Okay, if she’s this excited, maybe this won’t be so bad.

“Okay, so... how does this place work again?” he asked, watching a kid furiously slap buttons at a nearby game.

You laughed, giving him a gentle nudge. “It’s simple! We just play a bunch of games, earn tickets, and then trade them in for really weird prizes. Easy.”

Bucky nodded, though he still looked a little confused. “So, you win tickets by—?”

“By being amazing at games, obviously,” you said, your eyes already darting toward a nearby basketball shooting game. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Bucky followed you, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, I’ll keep up.” Alright, let’s see if I remember how to be competitive at... basketball?

You started with basketball, and while you had a decent shot, Bucky quickly became the Michael Jordan of arcade basketball. He tossed shot after shot into the hoop with ridiculous ease, barely even looking like he was trying.

Oh, come on. Seriously? Why is he good at everything? You shook your head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. Are you serious right now? Are you even aiming?”

“I dunno. I just... throw.” Bucky shrugged, not missing a single shot.

“This is what I get for going on a date with someone who’s literally built for accuracy.” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. Why am I pretending like I’m mad? It’s honestly impressive.

He flashed a boyish grin. “You wanted to see if I could keep up.” Oh, I’m keeping up, doll.

You crossed your arms, pretending to pout. “I wasn’t trying to lose in record time.”

When the game ended, Bucky had a ridiculous amount of points, and you had... well, significantly fewer. He collected your combined tickets from the machine, glancing down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Should I carry these, or do you want to hold on to the three tickets you earned?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

How is he still charming even while teasing me? This is unfair. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you snatched a couple of tickets from his hand with a grin. “You know what? Fuck you.”

“Careful, doll. You keep talking like that, and I might just take you up on it.” Bucky’s smirk widened, and he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your pulse quicken.

Okay, that was a little too good. I should not be blushing right now. Your eyes widened for a second, a flush creeping up your neck before you shot him a playful glare. “You wish.”

“You know I don’t have to wish for anything.” He chuckled, stepping back with a wink.

Well, that escalated quickly. You tried to bite back your smile, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at you. “I’m starting to regret bringing you here.”

Bucky held up the stack of tickets, grinning like a kid who just won the lottery. “You’re only regretting it because I’m walking away with all the prizes.” Did I just turn an arcade into a battlefield?

“Yeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in.” You huffed, shaking your head, though the smile on your face said otherwise.

Bucky shot you another wink. “Oh, I plan to.”

This guy is dangerous with that smile. You smirked, leaning in a little. “So... what happened to the awkward guy who pointed out that bagels are round? Because this,” you waved at the arcade tickets, “does not feel like the same guy.”

“What? You weren’t impressed by my bagel observations?” Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. I was doing my best back then, okay?

You laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, I was very impressed. I just didn’t know you were hiding this arcade legend behind all that bagel wisdom.”

He grinned, eyes glinting. “I’m full of surprises, doll.” You have no idea.

“Clearly,” you said, still teasing him as you walked toward the next game. “Let’s see how many more surprises you’ve got.”

You dragged him over to the shooting gallery game, where you were met with an array of plastic rifles and paper targets.

“I’m kinda good at this,” you declared, grabbing one of the rifles with renewed determination. “You can’t have a crazy aim for everything.” Finally, something I can win.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “Okay. Let’s see what you got.”

You aimed and fired... missing every single target. You winced as the targets flipped back and forth, mocking you with their tiny, evil faces. Are you kidding me?

“You’re holding it too tight.” Bucky stepped up beside you, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Oh, great. Here we go. The expert.” You groaned. Of course, I’m holding it too tight. Leave it to Bucky to know everything.

Bucky smiled, but instead of saying anything, he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, his hands gently guiding yours on the plastic gun. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you felt the warmth of him so close. His breath was soft against your ear as he leaned in to guide your aim, his voice low and steady.

Why does he have to be so good at this? I can barely think straight.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands adjusting yours gently. “Don’t grip it so hard. Just like this.”

How am I supposed to relax when he’s practically wrapped around me?

Your pulse quickened, your senses suddenly overwhelmed by how close he was. His cologne—woodsy and warm—filled your lungs, making you a little dizzy. You swallowed hard, focusing on anything but the way your back pressed against his chest. “Okay... relax. Right. Got it.”

“You’re not relaxing.” Bucky’s voice was low, almost teasing.

Yeah, no kidding. Not exactly easy when you smell like a lumberjack dream.

“I am relaxed!” you shot back, though your heart was racing so fast you were sure he could hear it.

Bucky chuckled, and the soft rumble of his laugh vibrated against your back. “If you were relaxed, you wouldn’t be holding your breath.”

If she’s holding her breath, I must be doing something right.

You blinked, realizing that yes, you were in fact holding your breath. You exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the targets instead of the fact that Bucky was basically wrapped around you.

“Good,” he said quietly, his hands still steadying yours. “Now, pull the trigger. Nice and easy.”

Yeah, this is totally normal. Just shooting targets, totally not thinking about how close we are.

You followed his lead, squeezing the trigger gently. The shot rang out, and the sound of a hit echoed through the machine. The target flipped backward, signaling a perfect hit.

“I did it!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over as you turned your head to look at him.

Your faces were just inches apart. Bucky’s eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, the good kind—the kind that makes your heart race and your stomach flip.

God, she’s close. Just a little closer...

Your gaze flickered down to his lips, and Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting where you were or what you were doing. All he could think about was how easy it would be to lean in just a little more, to—

“Uh, sorry!” A kid nearby bumped into the machine, jolting you both out of the moment.

Of course. Great timing, kid.

You quickly stepped out of Bucky’s embrace, your face flushed. “Well, um... thanks for the lesson, Barnes.”

Bucky cleared his throat, his ears a little pink. “Yeah. Anytime.” Anytime? Seriously, Barnes? That’s all you’ve got?

You moved on to a few more games, but the tension between you still lingered, electric and unspoken. After a particularly intense game of air hockey (where you almost won, thanks to Bucky being a little too distracted by you), you found yourselves at the prize counter.

Your eyes scanned the shelves, but one prize in particular caught your attention: an absolutely massive goose plush sitting at the top of the prize display. It was ridiculous, almost comically large, but it made you smile instantly.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, pointing. “That goose is so cute.”

Bucky followed your gaze and raised an eyebrow. A goose? Really? She could pick anything, and it’s that giant bird?

“You like that thing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I mean, look at it. It’s the size of a couch,” you said, laughing. “No one’s ever gonna win enough tickets for that.”

Bucky looked thoughtful for a second. Then, without saying a word, he handed all of your tickets to the guy at the counter. Challenge accepted, doll.

The kid behind the counter stared at him. “Uh, you know this isn’t enough for the goose, right?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, but... what’s it take to win that thing?”

Because clearly, winning giant plush birds is my new priority in life.

The kid blinked. “Like... a thousand tickets.”

Bucky smirked, then turned to you. “Wait here.”

“What are you doing?” You frowned, confused.

Please don’t say you’re going to try and win a thousand tickets... oh my God, he’s going to try and win a thousand tickets.

Bucky said nothing and disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, you saw him at one of those old-school, rigged basketball games. His face was calm, determined—like he was about to go to war.

One after the other, Bucky sank shot after shot, racking up points so fast that you had to rub your eyes to believe it. Within minutes, he had earned a mountain of tickets. He moved on to another game, this time skee-ball, and then to another. Every single game, he dominated, earning enough tickets to make the counter kid’s jaw drop when he returned with what looked like a roll of tickets big enough to use as a belt.

“Holy crap,” you muttered, watching as Bucky handed the tickets over, a satisfied smirk on his face. The kid counted them, eyes wide, then slowly reached for the giant goose plush.

The oversized goose was practically half Bucky’s height as he carried it back over to you, grinning.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you with a proud look. “You said you liked it, right?”

Who just... casually wins a giant goose plush? How did he do that?

You stared at the giant, fluffy creature, then at him, your heart flipping over itself. “Bucky... this is insane. It’s huge.”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave without winning you something.” He shrugged, his grin boyish and a little shy. Yeah, Barnes, act like you’re not insanely proud of yourself right now.

He’s... adorable. Stop. Focus. “You really didn’t have to... but I love it.” You laughed, hugging the goose to your chest.

“Good.” Bucky’s eyes softened as he watched you smile. Worth every single ticket.

Your heart raced, your face heating up as you looked at him over the massive plush. “You’re full of surprises, Barnes. Who knew you’d be this good at arcades?”

Just trying to impress the girl, no big deal.

“Maybe I just wanted to impress you.” He smiled, a little more reserved this time.

Well, mission accomplished, buddy. You blushed, the air between you crackling again with that familiar tension. “Well, mission accomplished.”

You stood there for a moment, just smiling at each other, the absurdly large goose between you, until you laughed and nudged him with your elbow.

“You know, this might be the best date I’ve ever been on,” you said, your tone light but sincere. Was that too much? Did I just over-share?

Bucky’s smile grew, his eyes softening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, holding the goose a little tighter. “Definitely the best.” Okay, that was smooth. Not awkward at all.

You left the arcade with the giant goose plush between you, its goofy face almost mocking the awkwardness that had suddenly crept back into your steps. Bucky walked beside you, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, trying to figure out what to say.

Do I say something? Or just... keep walking?

The sounds of the city filled the silence around you, but neither of you spoke. The playful energy from the arcade had faded into something quieter, more uncertain.

Why am I so bad at this? Just say something, Barnes.

After a long stretch of quiet, Bucky cleared his throat. “So... is this the end?” Smooth, real smooth.

You blinked and glanced over at him, trying to keep your heart from doing a flip at his words. “Well, that’s all I had planned. Why?”

Bucky hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly as he looked ahead, his mind clearly weighing something. Okay, don’t screw this up. Don’t sound too eager.

For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to say goodbye, that maybe this was the end of your date after all. But then, he spoke quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

“I kind of don’t want to go home yet.” Well, there it is. Now she knows.

You felt a flutter in your chest, your face heating up as a small, shy smile tugged at your lips. You ducked your head, looking down at the sidewalk to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. The way he said it—so simple but sincere—made your heart skip.

Why does that sound so much cuter than it should? You bit your lip, an idea suddenly coming to you.

“Well...” you started, glancing up at him. “There’s a new building by the riverside with a sky deck. It just opened recently, and it’s supposed to have the best view of the city.”

“Sky deck, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued. A sky deck? Yeah, that sounds better than awkwardly walking home.

You nodded, a little more excited now. “Yeah. It’s pretty high up, and overlooks the whole city. I haven’t been yet, but I heard it’s amazing at night.”

“Sounds better than going home.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile. Thank God. I’m not ready for this to be over yet.

“Then let’s go.” You grinned, feeling your heart race just a little faster.

You shared a quick, almost nervous glance at each other before walking in the direction of the riverside. The awkwardness wasn’t completely gone, but now, it was laced with anticipation, a kind of giddy energy that made your stomach flutter. You hugged the plush goose a little tighter, trying not to let your excitement show too much, but inside, you were buzzing.

× × × ×

The city lights shimmered below you as you lounged on the comfy chairs, drinks in hand. The night air was cool, but it didn’t come close to breaking the warmth buzzing between you and Bucky.

She’s... something else, Bucky thought, leaning back slightly. His gaze kept shifting between the breathtaking skyline and you, but he found himself more captivated by you. How am I supposed to focus on the view when she looks like that?

Noticing the quiet, you smirked. “So, you were really gonna end the night without showing off more of your endless talents?”

Oh, she’s teasing now. Alright, two can play this game. Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “What, beating you at arcade games wasn’t enough?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re a walking cheat code, Bucky. But I feel like there’s more you’re holding back.”

His eyes flickered over your face, lingering on your lips for just a little too long. More than you know, doll. “Maybe I am.”

Your breath caught for a second, but you quickly recovered, tilting your head and flashing him a grin. “Oh yeah? Like what? Some secret talent I should know about?”

Keep your cool, Barnes. Don't blow it now.

Bucky leaned in just a fraction, his voice lowering, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But I only show them to people who ask nicely.”

God, does he have to sound that smooth? Your heart flipped at the way he was looking at you, intense, as if he was seeing through every joke and teasing comment. How am I supposed to keep this casual?

“Nicely, huh? And what do I have to do for you to show me?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the playful banter fading into something more charged.

“Keep hanging around,” he said softly.

I’m in deep now. Bucky's eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. Should I kiss her? Maybe I’m reading this wrong...

His eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. It was just him—his voice, his presence, the way he was looking at you like he wanted to kiss you but was holding back.

You swallowed, feeling the tension build like a slow fire. You sipped your drink, trying to cool yourself down, but it did little to shake the feeling that something between you had shifted. Stop overthinking, just go with it.

“I could do that,” you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. You felt his eyes on you, and the air between you felt electric. You glanced at him, catching him staring at your lips again. Your pulse jumped. He’s really staring... isn’t he?

“You’re staring,” you said, teasing, though your voice had a soft edge to it, your heart thudding in your chest.

Bucky blinked, caught, but instead of pulling away, he smirked. “Am I?”

Yeah, Bucky, play it cool. Like you haven’t been staring for the past five minutes.

“Mhm,” you teased, though your voice was barely steady. Why does that smirk make my heart race? “I mean, I get it. The view’s great and all.”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping lower. “You could say that.”

I can’t believe this is actually happening. You felt your face heat up at the way he was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach do wild flips. Why is this so... intense?

“You’re not just talking about the city, are you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, sending shivers down your spine. Just kiss her already. “Maybe not.”

Your breath hitched. “And what are you looking at?”

He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on yours. “What do you think?”

She knows exactly what I’m looking at.

Your heart raced, the pull between you growing stronger with every passing second. His eyes kept flicking down to your lips, making you wonder if he was going to kiss you. I really shouldn’t wait any longer...

Bucky cleared his throat suddenly, as if shaking off the trance he’d been in, and leaned back into his seat, looking almost embarrassed. Okay, maybe I’m rushing this.

“Sorry... I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” you interrupted quickly, your voice softer, gentler now. God, why did he stop? “Don’t be. I didn’t mind.”

His gaze snapped back to yours, the tension flaring again. She didn’t mind? Well, maybe I didn’t screw up, after all—or I did because you didn’t kiss her you idiot. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, a soft smile tugged at his lips, and his expression softened.

“So... orthopedic ward, huh?” he said, shifting the conversation, though his eyes were still locked on you. “How do you handle that? All those broken bones?”

Smooth, Barnes. Talk about bones to distract yourself from the fact you were just about to kiss her.

You took a deep breath, relieved for the break in intensity but missing it instantly. Great, now I’m thinking about how close he was... “Well, it’s mostly convincing people not to do dumb things. Like skateboarding down staircases. You wouldn’t believe what people put themselves through.”

Bucky chuckled. Yeah, I believe it. Considering I’ve done dumber things in my time. “I can believe it. I’ve been there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve skateboarded down staircases?”

“No, but I’ve done some pretty stupid things in my time,” he admitted, leaning in again. Pretty sure falling for you might top the list. “But if I did something dumb, you’d patch me up, right?”

You smirked, your eyes twinkling. He’s flirting again. I can’t take this seriously. “Oh, I’d patch you up. But I’d make sure to remind you how dumb you were the entire time.”

“Fair,” Bucky said, the distance between you shrinking again. Patch me up, lecture me—just keep talking, I don’t care. “But I think I’d be a good patient.”

You shook your head with a grin. Good patient? Doubtful. “I doubt that. You’d probably complain the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t,” he replied, his tone teasing but soft. I’d let her take care of me, no problem. “If you were the one taking care of me, I’d be on my best behavior.”

He’s definitely not just talking about broken bones... Your heart skipped at the way he was looking at you again, his voice dropping to something more intimate. The banter was light, but underneath it all, there was that same intensity. Okay, now I’m thinking about kissing him again...

“You don’t strike me as someone who’s ever on their best behavior,” you teased softly, though your breath caught in your throat.

Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking to your lips again. “Maybe you bring it out in me.”

God, I hope so.

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. Your pulse raced, and you leaned into the moment, letting the tension simmer between you, unspoken but undeniable. He’s close again…

“I’ll have to see that for myself,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat.

She’s close, too. Just lean in, Barnes. Bucky’s gaze darkened, his voice low and rough. “You just might.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as the tension between you crackled, thick and electric. You shifted slightly, leaning in with a playful smirk. “So... tell me, you got any other dates lined up after this one?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned back, crossing his arms. Dates? I can barely keep up with this one. “Why? You worried I’ve got someone else lined up?”

You grinned, holding his gaze. “Maybe. Should I be?”

Not a chance. He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking as his voice dropped lower. “I don’t know... do you have any other dates lined up?”

He’s really turning this on me, huh? You blinked, your heart racing, but you quickly shot back, “Well, maybe... maybe not. Depends on how this one ends.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes dropping to your lips again, the intensity rising. Alright, Barnes, time to end this date right. “Guess I better make sure it ends right, then.”

Before you could respond, Bucky reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek as he leaned in, your lips so close you could feel his breath.

Your heart was pounding, your breath shallow, as his parted lips brushed against yours, soft and slow, his head tilting just slightly. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips locking against yours in a way that made everything around you fade to nothing. He could taste the faint sweetness of your daiquiri on your lips, and with a soft groan, his tongue did a slow, savoring lick against your bottom lip before slipping past, deepening the kiss.

Your hands instinctively moved up, cupping his face as you kissed him back, your fingers sliding along the scruff of his jaw. The warmth of his touch, the way his thumb stroked your cheek, the way his lips moved against yours —everything about it was intoxicating, pulling you under.

Then Bucky pulled back for a quick gasp, his breath mingling with yours , before diving back in, capturing your lips with even more intensity. The kiss deepened, more urgent this time, as though neither of you wanted the moment to end. His hand on your nape tightened slightly, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified, his lips pressing more firmly against yours.

They didn’t stop until they couldn’t breathe anymore, finally pulling apart when the need for air overtook you, both of you breathless and flushed. Their foreheads rested together, the cool night air doing little to cool the heat between you. Bucky’s thumb gently stroked your cheek as he whispered, his voice rough, “Definitely no other dates lined up after this.”

You smiled, your hands still cradling his face, your heart pounding. “Good. Neither do I.”

× × × ×

As Bucky’s motorcycle came to a slow stop outside your house, and glanced up at your front porch. You hopped off the bike, shaking out your hair with a satisfied grin.

That ride was way too short... you thought, glancing at him as you handed Bucky his helmet, which he stubbornly told you to wear instead of him.

Bucky, being the gentleman, didn’t just let you off with a wave. He slid off the bike and stood up straight, dusting his hands like he was about to help carry your groceries.

Alright, Barnes. Play it cool.

"I’ll walk you up," he said casually, like it wasn’t 2024 and people usually just waved from their cars.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. "You’re walking me to my porch?"

Bucky nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She thinks it’s weird? Hell, I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Of course. What kind of guy lets a lady walk to her door alone?” he replied, shrugging like this was completely normal.

You tried not to laugh, biting your lip to hold back a smile. He’s serious. Oh my God, he’s really serious. "Wow, okay, Mr. 1940s. What’s next, you gonna tip your hat and call me ‘ma’am’?"

Bucky smirked, taking a step closer. Alright, go with it, Barnes. “I could, if that’s what you’re into.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes but smiling as you walked together toward your porch. He’s ridiculous... and kinda sweet. You couldn’t help but notice how he slowed his pace just a little, like he was savoring the moment, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, casual yet somehow... considerate.

When you reached your porch, Bucky stopped, glancing at your door as if making sure it was safe territory. This is it. Play it smooth.

You turned to him, unable to hold back a laugh this time. "So, do I get a secret code to get into my own house, or...?"

Bucky grinned, leaning casually against the porch railing. “Just making sure you get home safe.”

Alright, Barnes, she’s not buying it. But hey, it worked.

“You know, they invented porch lights for a reason.” You shook your head, amused. He’s seriously acting like my personal bodyguard right now.

“What can I say? Old habits die hard.” Bucky shrugged, leaning in just a little closer, that playful glint in his eye. Please don’t laugh, please don’t laugh.

You looked up at him, crossing your arms with a smirk. “You know, there’s a fine line between being a gentleman and babysitting.”

Bucky chuckled. She’s killing me with that smirk. “Hey, you never know. There could be a rogue bagel out here, just waiting to trip you up.”

Oh, not the bagels again. “Oh my God, not the bagels again!” you burst out laughing, shaking your head.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You know they’re round, right?”

This man is unbelievable. You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I think we’ve officially come full circle.”

“Just like a bagel.” Bucky gave a slow, dramatic nod.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, but you shook your head, standing on your porch with your hands on your hips. Why do I like this guy so much?

“Alright, alright, you’ve escorted me safely to my door. Anything else, or are you going to salute me goodbye?”

Bucky’s grin softened, and with a playful twinkle in his eye, he gave a small, mock salute. She’s gotta be messing with me right now, right? “Goodnight, ma’am.”

“Goodnight, soldier.” You couldn’t stop smiling as you opened your door, turning back to look at him. Don’t walk away, don’t walk away yet...

As you slipped inside, you peeked out one last time, watching as Bucky lingered for a second, that charming smirk still on his face before he finally turned and headed back to his bike. Say something, Barnes. Don’t just leave like a dork.

But then he stopped, halfway to his bike, and turned back around, something flickering in his eyes.

No, I’m not leaving yet. Not without...

Before you could ask what he was doing, Bucky closed the distance between you with a few long strides. Without hesitating, he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you—soft, quick, but just enough to make your heart race. His lips parted against yours, and for a split second, you tasted the warmth of him before he pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes.

That... was... wow.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart doing a somersault. Did that just happen? You were still processing when Bucky grinned, his voice a little more hushed. “I guess I couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye.”

Smooth, Barnes. Real smooth.

You blinked, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a soft, “No complaints here.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his hand still lingering at your neck for a moment longer. Then, he cleared his throat, stepping back a bit. “Hey, uh... you got a number I could call sometime?”

He’s asking for my number after that?

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter as you reached into your pocket, grabbing your phone. “Yeah, here—let me put it in.”

As you typed in your number, Bucky watched you, that familiar twinkle back in his eyes. Best decision I’ve made all night.

When you handed his phone back, your fingers brushed his, sending a small jolt up your arm. Yep, I’m done for.

Bucky pocketed the phone, flashing that boyish grin again. “Alright. I’ll call you.”

Yeah, you better. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He took a slow step down from the porch, but not without glancing over his shoulder one more time. “Goodnight... again.”

You stood there, grinning like an idiot. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

As Bucky made his way back to his bike, you slipped inside your house, leaning against the door as your heart raced. Did he really just kiss me? Again? Oh, this is definitely not over.

You peeked out one last time through the crack in the door, watching him as he swung his leg over his bike. Even from your doorway, you could hear him muttering with a smirk, “Just trying to keep the rogue bagels at bay.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finally closed the door behind you, your heart racing a little more than you expected. I’m never going to forget this night...

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dandelionsresilience · 9 months ago

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whether the internet becomes an intolerable surveillance state, ubiquitous subscription model, or unusably ad- or AI-ridden shithole, I think we need to remember

how to do things offline

either on your personal hard drive (just because it’s an app doesn’t mean the information is stored in your device) or on paper. I’m not saying the collapse of the internet is imminent, and I’m not suggesting we do everything completely without technology, or even stop using it until we have to. (to be clear, I also don’t think the internet will just blink out of existence, suddenly stop being a thing at all; rather I think it might continue to lose its usefulness to the point where it’s impossible to get anything done. anyway) but some people may have forgotten how we got by before the internet (I almost have!), and the younger generation might not have experienced it at all.

I figure most people probably use the internet mainly for communication with friends and family, entertainment and creation (eg. writing), and looking up how to do things, so here’s how to do those things offline:

First and most importantly, download everything important to you onto at least one hard drive and at least one flashdrive! files can get corrupted and hardware can get damaged or lost, but as long as you keep backup copies, you have much-closer-to-guaranteed access versus hoping a business doesn’t decide to paywall, purge, or otherwise revoke your access. I would recommend getting irreplaceable photos printed as well

download and/or print/write down:

anything important to you - photos/videos, journals, certificates, college transcripts

contact info - phone numbers and/or addresses of friends/family (know how to contact them if you can’t use your favourite messaging app), doctors (open hours would be good too), veterinarians if you have pets, and work

how-to’s - recipes (one, two), emergency preparedness (what do I do if… eg. I smell gas)

other things you might google: cleaning chemicals to NOT mix, what laundry tag symbols mean, people food dogs and cats can and can’t eat, plant toxicity to pets

and know offline ways to find things out - local radio station, newspaper, a nearby highway rest area might have a region map, public libraries usually have a bunch of resources

also, those of you who get periods should strongly consider not using period tracking apps! here’s how to track your period manually

free printable period tracker templates (no printer? public libraries usually charge a few cents per page, or you can recreate it by hand)

moving on to entertainment, you can still get most media for free! it’s completely legal to download your favourite movies to your own personal hard drive, you just can’t sell or distribute copies (not legal advice)

movies: wcostream.tv (right click the player) - the url changes every once in a while but usually redirects; I recently noticed that it’s hiding a lot of movies behind “premium,” so it may or may not work anymore | download youtube videos

music: how to get music without streaming it | legal free downloads

games: steamunlocked.net - doesn’t have every game and can be slow to update, but very reliable

books: free online libraries | legal free downloads

otherwise passing time:

active outdoor games

for road trips (social verbal games)

for when power’s out

for sheltering in place (not all offline, but good ideas)

board games (often found at thrift stores)

ad-free customisable games collection (mobile)

read, write, draw, or whatever your craft is, sing, dance, clean, reorganise, take a bath

go outside - excuses include napping (if safe), eating, reading, finding cool plants/animals/rocks, playing with the dog

places to go include:

zoos and museums can be surprisingly cheap

parks and nature preserves

library, mall, or game shop

and a few miscellaneous things for good measure:

time budgeting | household management

how to use a planner | I’ve had success with visually blocked-out schedules like these

please add on if you have any other offline alternatives to common uses of the internet!

#anti capitalism #off grid #internet #technology #how to #my post

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

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pairing: spencer reid x reader

requested: reader progressively sending more and more raunchy pics to convince spencer to get an iphone (or a phone not from 2003)

summary: you try persuading spencer to get a phone that was made after the turn of the century

cw: explicit content, minors dni. taking/sending nudes

Spencer happens upon them on his own, but it's not like you hadn't wanted him to find them. That's why you'd been so willing to pass your phone over, photos app open when you tell him to hunt for a screenshot you'd taken a week prior.

He's not tech savvy enough to know to search the screenshot folder rather than the more broad photo library, so he ends up scrolling right past several raunchy shots of your bare chest, thumb stuttering in its slow rhythm and grinding to a halt against the screen.

"Uh-" is his giveaway, and you peer coyly over his shoulder, something roiling below your gut at the sight of his rapidly pinkening cheeks.

"Oh, those? I took those the other day," You dismiss, keeping your voice pointedly nonchalant, "There's some of my ass, too, but they're from a couple of weeks ago."

The information you've given him floors him, and he flounders for a moment like a fish out of water. Finally he manages, "Oh. Um, what- what were you going to do with them?"

"Well, send them to you, of course," You grin, but it's through a laugh that you hope doesn't sound too demeaning, "But seeing as your phone can't even use the internet, I didn't really think it'd work."

"I can see photos," He rushes to confirm, but you take your phone back, resuming your hunt for the screenshot yourself.

"But you can't zoom in on them," You shake your head, pouring over the phone screen so that Spencer is only more desperate to get your attention, "And they're live photos, Spence, that'd be wasted on your phone."

"Live photos?"

"They move," You grin devilishly, pointedly lingering over a shot of you modeling one of Spencer's favorite sets of lingerie, "Just get an iPhone and they're all yours, pretty boy."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid smut

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lov3lycosmos · 2 months ago

Text

"𝑹𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑨 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓" 𝑨 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 💐⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 1

Chapter Genre: this chapter consists of fluff!

Synopsis: You’re a freelance artist struggling to pay bills when your best friend signs you up (without asking) for a new dating app service: Rent-A-Date — where people can 'rent' a pretend lover for weddings, events, holidays, etc. You’re furious... until your first renter is Hongjoong — a charismatic, mischievous guy who hired you to be his fake girlfriend for an important family event.

Wc. 10k

💌: this is the first chapter of my new hongjoong series, this series consists of fluff, smut, and a bit of angst! Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist! (Sorry about the multiple timeskips!)

Series Masterlist 🌷 My Library🌷 (NOT PROOFREAD! LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE ANY HUGE ERRORS)

The worst part wasn’t that you were broke.

The worst part was that you were broke and getting fake-hired as someone’s girlfriend on an app you’d never even signed up for.

Your phone buzzed again on the kitchen counter, the screen lighting up with a notification that might as well have been handwritten by the devil himself.

“Your Rent-A-Date profile is LIVE! Clients are browsing now.”

Brows furrowed, you stepped toward it as though it might explode. Rent-A-what?

It only got worse from there.

On the screen, your face stared back — slightly crooked smile, the subtle remnants of glitter under your eyes from that party last winter, and a caption underneath that made your soul leave your body:

Freelance artist. Introvert with a bold streak. Great with parents. Can fake-laugh at bad jokes.

Underneath: Best friend submitted profile.

You made a strangled noise, your mouth falling open in shock.

“No. Nope. No, no—”

Your fingers flew across the screen, unlocking the app with shaking hands, heart pounding like you were about to be sentenced to death. It was sleek — all pastel pinks and lavender swirls, with soft music playing in the background, like this was some dreamy, magical matchmaking world instead of… whatever hell this was.

Rent-A-Date, the bold bubbly font read. Need a plus one? A pretend partner? Someone to survive a wedding or win your ex’s jealousy? Rent your perfect fake partner today!

You stared blankly at the screen, processing the absurdity of it all.

There were five glowing stars next to your profile — five glowing stars. Had someone actually rated you?

And there, sitting like a neon sign mocking your existence, was a pending request.

Your jaw dropped.

“Pending—? Someone actually booked me?”

And there it was. The job you didn’t ask for, the nightmare you didn’t sign up for:

Client Request: Kim Hongjoong

Event: Cousin’s engagement party (family present)

Dates: Friday–Sunday (includes hotel accommodations, transportation provided)

Role: Girlfriend (must be convincing)

Rate: $1,200 + bonuses for realism and extended stays

Your eye twitched. You couldn’t even form words. Was this a joke?

You hit call, but your heart was already sinking.

The line clicked twice before the bright, chaotic voice of your best friend — the only person in your life you would actively consider murdering �� answered.

“Helloooo, newly employed fake girlfriend!”

“You have five seconds to explain before I call the cops.”

“Oh, come on! I did you a favor!” your friend laughed, entirely too pleased with herself. “I saw the app and immediately thought, you know who needs cash and has serious girlfriend material? My best friend.”

“You submitted my face,” you snapped, pacing the length of the kitchen, your mind spinning. “You put my photo and name on a dating-for-hire app without even telling me.”

“Technically, they ask for consent when you log in. Which you did. Yesterday.”

“I thought it was for art commissions!” you barked, incredulous.

Silence.

“Okay, that’s on me,” your friend admitted, sounding far too calm. “But still. It’s a brilliant idea. You need money. And now you’ve got a high-paying gig with a really hot guy. A rich, hot guy. I mean, hello?”

“I don’t want to fake-date anyone’s rich ass,” you hissed, slumping onto the couch and dragging your knees up to your chest. “I want to make rent without being someone’s trophy girlfriend for the weekend.”

“Well, it’s not like you have to actually do anything,” your friend said, almost too cheerfully. “You smile, hold his hand, make his grandma think you’re dating. It’s not illegal. It’s barely even acting.”

“It’s completely humiliating,” you muttered, dragging a hand over your face.

“It’s twelve hundred dollars,” your friend corrected, voice syrupy and teasing. “Plus bonuses. You could buy, like, actual groceries. A new stylus. Coffee that doesn’t taste like burnt tears. That doesn’t sound like humiliation, does it?”

“I hate you.”

“You’ll love me by Sunday,” she promised in a sing-song voice. “You always do.”

You were quiet for a long moment, staring at the booking details again, biting the inside of your cheek like you could physically will the words to vanish from the screen.

Rent-A-Date.

Kim Hongjoong.

Fake girlfriend.

Twelve hundred dollars.

You groaned, dropping your head back against the cushion like you were suddenly too tired for this.

“What’s his deal anyway?” you asked, defeated.

“Oh my god, I’m so glad you asked,” your friend said, her voice going all excited and dramatic.

There was a flurry of rapid typing. The next thing you knew, she gasped like she’d discovered the Holy Grail.

“Okay, so… he’s a creative director at a music label — don’t ask me which one, he’s secretive. Really artsy, kind of cocky, but in a flirty way. Think charming menace but, like, the good kind of menace? His Instagram looks like an indie fashion magazine. Anyway, he apparently needs a girlfriend for a big family weekend or his aunt will set him up with someone again. He’s desperate. And picky. But he picked you.”

“Lucky me,” you muttered dryly.

“I saw a picture of him. You’re gonna be mad.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s your type.”

“I don’t have a type.”

“You do, and it’s mischievous jawlines with too many rings.”

You groaned and collapsed back against the couch, eyes drifting shut for a moment. Mischievous jawlines with too many rings.

Your friend’s voice continued, syrupy sweet. “Just meet him. One coffee date to discuss the job. You don’t have to sign your soul away — just feel it out. You know, for the sake of... potential true love.”

“You already confirmed the request, didn’t you?”

“…I sure did.”

“I actually hate you.”

“Love you too,” she chirped. “Wear something flirty, but not desperate. First impressions matter. Especially with future soulmates.”

She hung up before you could scream.

An hour later, you sat in front of your mirror, glaring at your reflection.

This was not a date. It was a fake job interview for a fake relationship that you didn’t even want.

And yet… you’d changed outfits three times.

You settled on something casual but cute — a dark cardigan over a tank top, jeans with just the right amount of “I’m not trying too hard,” and your favorite boots. Just enough to feel put together. Not enough to look like you cared.

Which you didn’t.

Definitely.

Outside, the sun was just starting to fall behind the buildings as you walked toward the café where the meeting was scheduled. Your hands were cold in your sleeves. A fall breeze rolled down the street, biting but kind of refreshing. You tried not to think about what was waiting on the other side of the glass.

Just coffee. Just business.

Just pretending to be someone’s girlfriend for a weekend.

Totally normal.

The café was warm, a soft, amber glow of lights spilling across the worn wood floors and faded brick walls. Indie music floated lazily through the speakers, mellow tunes with gentle guitar strums and mellow percussion, creating a cozy cocoon around you. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans mixed with the faint sweetness of baked goods. You scanned the room, looking for your supposed "client," half-expecting some unremarkable office-type with a clipboard or a disinterested phone-call kind of guy.

That was, until your eyes locked with his.

A guy in a black beanie, seated by the window, caught your gaze. There was something magnetic about him — the sharpness in his eyes, a hint of mischief in the curve of his lips. His rings caught the light, gleaming as he turned his head to meet you, a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth.

Before you even had a chance to blink, he was standing up. His movement was fluid, confident, the kind of natural grace that only comes with years of practice — like he'd done this a thousand times before.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and effortless, the smirk never fading. "You must be the storm I hired."

Your brows shot up, a mix of surprise and confusion washing over you.

He chuckled at your reaction, not waiting for a reply before he reached out a hand. "Kim Hongjoong. And you must be the reluctant fake girlfriend who didn’t sign up for this."

His gaze didn’t waver as you hesitated, sizing him up. For a moment, all you could do was stare at his hand, his skin warm against yours when you finally took it, shaking it with caution. His grip was firm, steady — not the kind that you’d expect from someone trying to fake their way through a situation.

You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the strange feeling crawling up your spine. The fact that he was already throwing out lines like that had you on edge. You slid into the seat across from him, trying not to think about how annoyingly attractive he was. His jawline was sharp, like it could cut glass, and his earrings sparkled under the dim lighting. His eyes, though — they weren’t just looking at you like he was sizing you up. They were focused. Interested. Like he could see right through the fake smiles and the exterior you’d perfected.

"So," he began, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, fingers playing with the edge of his coffee cup. The soft clink of his rings against the porcelain broke the otherwise quiet space. “How fake are you willing to go?"

You blinked, thrown off by the question. You weren't sure if you should laugh, be offended, or just leave. "Excuse me?" you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

"I mean," he continued smoothly, his smirk never wavering, "are we just holding hands and laughing at my jokes, or are we doing the whole rom-com experience? You know — fake dates, accidental kisses, spontaneous declarations of love?"

You narrowed your eyes, unsure how to respond. "I don’t… do rom-coms," you said, shaking your head, already regretting the words. This was going to be a disaster, wasn’t it?

He leaned back in his chair, his grin never fading, and shot you a playful shrug. "Shame," he said, almost wistfully, like it was a personal loss. "You’ve definitely got that main character energy."

Your eyes narrowed even further. "Are you always like this?"

"Only with people I pay," he said with a wink, voice dripping with teasing arrogance.

For some reason, you almost fought a smile. Almost. But you couldn’t let him get the satisfaction.

"I’m not kissing you," you said bluntly, letting the words land with as much finality as you could muster.

"Noted." He didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. In fact, he just gave you that infuriatingly confident grin. "Unless it’s, you know, absolutely necessary."

"It won’t be," you retorted firmly.

"Still noted," he replied casually, like he’d just made a mental note in a list of things he would absolutely ignore later.

You sighed, sinking back into your chair, arms crossed tightly over your chest, trying to maintain some semblance of control in this situation that was already starting to spin out of your hands. "Why not hire someone who actually wants to do this?" you asked, genuinely curious. Maybe you’d get a straightforward answer.

"I did," he said, his voice smooth, confident, almost mocking. "You just didn’t know it yet."

Your mouth opened, then closed, your mind reeling at the implications. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, unsure how to respond to that. The nerve of this guy. The audacity.

Okay — fine. Maybe he was charming. In an infuriating, smug, weirdly endearing way. The kind of guy who could easily win people over without even trying. The kind of guy who could lie to your face and make you feel like he was telling the truth.

And the thing that made it worse? He didn’t feel fake. Not yet. That was the most dangerous part.

There were few things more awkward than standing in your living room while a man you barely knew scrutinized you, sizing you up like you were a piece of fragile glass. Then, he hit you with the bombshell: “So… how do you feel about PDA?”

Your posture stiffened instinctively, arms folding across your chest, a small, incredulous laugh escaping your lips. “Uh, we haven’t even fake-hugged yet, and you’re already jumping to PDA?”

Hongjoong, unfazed, smiled like he had just asked you the most natural thing in the world. “I just want to know your boundaries. We’ll be around my extended family in Busan for two days. They’re nosy, affectionate, and they love to assume things. If we act like two bricks sitting next to each other, they’ll know something’s up.”

You exhaled sharply, suddenly feeling like the walls of your tiny apartment were closing in around you, like the air itself was thick with an unspoken tension. This was why he had asked you over tonight — “rehearsal,” as he had called it. His idea of preparing you for the whirlwind that was meeting his family, and it felt weirdly intimate, even though it was fake.

“Okay,” you muttered, forcing a smile as you adjusted the hem of your shirt nervously. “Where do we start?”

Hongjoong stepped closer, just a foot away now, but not enough to touch. “Let’s begin with hugs.”

You blinked, staring at him. “You’re serious?”

He tilted his head, expression playful. “What, you think I’m gonna take my fake girlfriend to meet my grandma without at least practicing one solid hello hug?”

He had a point. But it still didn’t make it any less weird.

You sighed and nodded, taking a step back to adjust your posture. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

The first attempt was painfully awkward. You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Your arms hovered uncertainly in the air, while Hongjoong stepped in, wrapping his arms around you loosely in what could only be described as a half-hearted attempt. It felt like a third-grade slow dance — stiff and uncomfortable, with no rhythm.

As soon as you pulled away, both of you muttered in unison, “That was horrible.”

And then, you both burst into laughter, the tension breaking for a moment. Hongjoong waved his hand, signaling for a redo.

“Okay, again,” he said, clearly amused. “This time, just… let it happen. Don’t overthink it.”

Easier said than done. You closed your eyes for a brief second, steeling yourself to try again. This time, his arms wrapped around your waist, firmer but not too tight. You cautiously looped your own arms around his shoulders, feeling the heat of his body close to yours. His scent — something warm and woody, with a subtle sweetness — lingered in the air, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours.

The contact was… not terrible. Not as bad as you had expected, at least.

“Better,” he murmured, voice muffled slightly by your hair, the sound of his words sending a ripple through your chest. You pulled away quickly, feeling an unbidden warmth creep up your neck.

“Yeah. That was… fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

His grin was wide, clearly amused. “You were blushing.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your discomfort. “Shut up.”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you flirting with me right now? During boyfriend bootcamp?”

Hongjoong’s eyes danced with playful mischief. “Nope. This is fake affection practice. Totally professional.”

Groaning, you flopped back onto the couch, the pillow beneath you soft and a little too warm. “You’re gonna make this harder, aren’t you?”

He joined you, sitting just close enough that your knees brushed together. “Probably.”

The next module was “how to sit together in public,” or, according to Hongjoong, the “let’s make people believe we’re actually dating” training. He scooted in next to you, close enough that your shoulders were brushing, and his knee bumped against yours.

“This okay?” he asked casually, as if he were asking if you liked the weather.

You hummed noncommittally. The proximity made you feel oddly self-conscious. It wasn’t just the fact that he was close, but the fact that you barely knew him — and now you were supposed to pretend to be a couple? Your body felt stiff under the weight of his presence.

“Should I back off?” he asked, eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine.”

His lips curled into a soft smile, then he relaxed slightly, slouching a little as if making himself more comfortable. “Now we’re just chilling at a friend’s party,” he continued, his voice smooth. “You’re tired, and I’m rubbing your back or something. What would you do?”

You turned to face him, eyebrows raised. “Rub my back?”

He chuckled at your reaction. “Not like that,” he corrected, laughing again. “Just like… comforting.” He placed his palm gently on your upper back, his thumb lazily making slow circles. “Comfort.”

Okay. You hadn’t expected that. The motion was gentle, deliberate, and for a moment, you almost forgot it was all part of the “practice.” His touch, while casual, sent a small shiver down your spine. It was surprisingly relaxing, the way his thumb glided slowly across the back of your neck. Until you realized how still the room had become, how aware you were of every little movement, every little shift in his hand.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to focus on anything else but the warmth of his hand. “This is weird.”

“You’re stiff,” he pointed out, his voice light but knowing.

“No, I’m not,” you muttered, trying to stay relaxed.

“You’re sitting like I’ve got a knife to your back,” he teased.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Sorry if I’m not used to strangers petting me.”

His smile softened, gaze growing a little warmer. “We’re not strangers anymore, though. Are we?”

You froze, unsure how to respond. You’d known him for less than a week, but in that time, you’d learned things about him — his family dynamics, his quirks, the things he liked and didn’t like. And now, here he was, sitting on your couch, touching you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“…I guess not,” you said, your voice softer now.

The next lesson came unexpectedly — hand holding. You reached for your water, but before you could take a sip, Hongjoong’s hand slid into yours, his fingers curling around yours without warning.

You froze, looking down at your joined hands. “What are you doing?”

He smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Pretending we’re walking down the beach at sunset,” he said smoothly. “You look at me with those big heart eyes, and you say, ‘Oppa, I’ve never felt this way before.’”

You snorted in disbelief, feeling your face flush as you tried to pull your hand away. “You are the worst.”

He just laughed, eyes twinkling. “C’mon, don’t leave me hanging. Hold it like you mean it.”

With a sigh, you adjusted your grip, curling your fingers tighter around his. His hand was warm, his skin rough in a way that felt solid and grounded, and his thumb brushed gently against your knuckle. You refused to look at him, focusing instead on the sensation of his hand in yours, trying to push away the feeling of heat rising to your cheeks.

“You’re blushing again,” he commented quietly.

“You say that like it’s a surprise,” you shot back, though the words felt weak compared to the sudden rush of warmth that spread across your skin.

With a soft chuckle, he released your hand, and for a moment, you missed the contact more than you expected.

“I like flustering you,” he said, standing to stretch, his voice low and teasing. “It’s fun.”

You threw a pillow at him. He ducked, laughing all the while.

Later that night, when things had quieted down, Hongjoong’s expression shifted, becoming more serious.

“There’s one more thing we should go over,” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft.

You were curled on the edge of the couch, sipping tea, trying to ground yourself after the whirlwind of practice you’d just gone through. “What now? Practice baby talk?”

He chuckled at the idea, walking over to sit beside you again. “No. Kissing.”

You nearly choked on your tea. “Excuse me?!”

“Fake kissing,” he clarified quickly, sitting just a little too close again. “We don’t have to. But if someone asks us to kiss — or we get pushed into one — we should know how to handle it.”

Your throat felt dry. “I—I don’t know, Hongjoong…”

“We won’t do it unless you’re okay with it,” he added gently, the serious tone in his voice making you pause. “We can stop the second it feels too much.”

You found yourself looking down at your hands, unsure. The idea of kissing someone for “practice” was a lot harder to swallow than you’d thought. But some part of you was curious. What would it feel like? Would it be as fake as this entire arrangement, or would it be something more?

“…Maybe we just pretend.”

Hongjoong’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Pretend to pretend?” he teased. But there was no push, no pressure in his tone.

He leaned in slowly, eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was soft, lips slightly parted, and for a moment, everything around you fell away. He was close — close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin, smell the same warm scent that seemed to follow him around. His presence was overwhelming, and your heart began to race.

You didn’t move. Not until the last possible second, when panic shot through your chest like a warning bell. You turned your head abruptly, flinching away. “I—I can’t.”

He stopped immediately, pulling back, his expression softening.

“Hey,” he said, his voice calm and understanding. “It’s okay.”

You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, the words “I’m sorry” slipping out before you could stop them. You were embarrassed. More than that, you were overwhelmed by the whole situation.

“Don’t be,” he said gently, his voice quiet. “That’s the whole point of practice, right? We figure out what works and what doesn’t.”

You nodded, feeling the heat in your chest slowly fade. His smile was soft, almost reassuring. “We’ll skip that part. For now.”

His gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long, and in that look, something unspoken passed between you.

You didn’t know what was happening between you two. But you knew one thing for sure — pretending was starting to feel a whole lot more real than you had expected.

Packing for a wedding was already stressful. Packing for a wedding where you had to fake-date your mildly infuriatingly attractive pretend boyfriend? Next level.

You sat cross-legged on your bed, surrounded by piles of rejected outfit combos. Dresses too plain, dresses too tight, shoes too high, shoes too boring — nothing felt right. The pressure of being arm-in-arm with someone as effortlessly cool as Hongjoong made every outfit feel like a potential disaster. He was always so composed, his style sharp and effortless, like he’d been born with a natural flair for making everything he wore look like it came from a high-end magazine. And here you were, tangled in fabric, unsure of how to match his vibe, or worse, how to stand next to him without looking like you didn’t belong.

You weren’t dressing for him, of course. Not really.

Just for the relatives. The photos. The illusion. The act. But no matter how much you told yourself it didn’t matter, your heart still fluttered when his name flashed across your phone. His message read: “Be there in 10 to help pack. Don’t panic.” You couldn’t help it — your chest tightened in that familiar way it always did when you saw his name. The fluttery feeling you’d sworn wasn’t there took hold again, and you found yourself lying down on the bed for a moment, trying to shake it off.

“Professional,” you whispered to yourself. “This is strictly professional.”

You almost believed it. Almost.

Hongjoong showed up exactly ten minutes later, as promised. He stepped into your room, and his gaze immediately swept over the chaotic scene of clothes and half-packed bags scattered across your bed and floor. The way his eyes narrowed slightly, that trademark half-amused, half-exasperated expression on his face, only made him look more... irritatingly perfect.

“Wow,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You really weren’t joking.”

“I hate you,” you muttered, still tangled in a particularly troublesome dress that refused to hang right.

He grinned, taking his time walking over and flopping down on the bed beside you, knocking a few items to the floor in the process. “You love me.”

“Fake love,” you shot back, throwing a crumpled shirt at him in frustration.

“Love is love,” he said nonchalantly, like he had all the time in the world to indulge in this ridiculous charade. He kicked his feet up, completely at ease, as if he weren’t in the middle of your personal chaos. “Alright, what’s the crisis?”

You threw your hands up in frustration, gesturing to the sea of rejected outfits that seemed to mock you. “Nothing fits the vibe. I don’t know how to look like someone you’d date.”

He didn’t respond immediately, the usual teasing grin replaced with a quiet contemplation. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and you couldn’t tell if he was focusing on your clothes or what you’d just said.

“…What does that mean?” he asked, his voice softer than you expected.

You looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes. “You’re just — cool. Sharp. Confident. I don’t look like I belong next to you in photos.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning your face with a seriousness that made your heart beat faster. “Hey,” he said, the usual playfulness gone from his voice. “Don’t say that. You’re beautiful. And anyone would be lucky to be seen next to you.”

The sincerity in his tone stopped you dead in your tracks. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe. You stared at him, trying to find something — anything — to respond with, but your words caught in your throat.

“…You’re just saying that because we’re in character,” you managed to say, your voice quieter than usual.

“No,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “I’m saying that as me.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you. It was like a sudden shift in the dynamic, something that caught you off guard and left you feeling exposed, like he’d just taken the mask off and let you see the person behind the act. And you didn’t know how to handle it.

Before you could say anything else, he waved it off, his usual easygoing demeanor slipping back into place. “Alright, let’s get back to the task at hand. What do you want to try next?”

You blinked, unsure of what just happened. But you nodded, forcing yourself to focus on the mission at hand.

You reached for the nearest dress, holding it up for his inspection — a soft, pastel wrap dress with flutter sleeves and a modest neckline. It was pretty, sure, but simple. Maybe too simple. It screamed “safe” more than “stylish.”

Hongjoong tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning the dress before he gave a casual nod. “Cute. Very girl-next-door. I like it.”

You frowned. “Too safe?”

“Depends,” he said, leaning back against the bed. “What do you want to say with your look? ‘Don’t look at me, I’m taken’? Or ‘Yes, he did pull someone this hot, and no, you can’t have me’?”

Your lips curled in a smile despite yourself. “I want to say, ‘This is a lie, but I refuse to look bad doing it.’”

Hongjoong burst out laughing, catching a sweater you had thrown at him without even trying. “In that case, try the black one.”

You narrowed your eyes, already dreading the suggestion. “The tight one?”

“It’s elegant,” he said with a grin. “And it’ll match my suit. Coordination is key, babe.”

You grimaced. “Don’t call me babe.”

“Sorry. Sweetheart?” he offered, giving you a playful wink.

“Ugh, you’re insufferable,” you muttered, grabbing the offending dress and heading to the bathroom.

You slipped into the black dress he’d suggested — sleek, off-the-shoulder, hugging your curves in all the right ways without feeling overly revealing. The fabric felt like confidence itself as it skimmed over your body, making you stand a little taller, feel a little stronger. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a long moment, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirl inside you. The dress made you feel like a different version of yourself — the one who didn’t second-guess her choices, the one who knew how to own a room.

You stepped out of the bathroom slowly, your pulse quickening as you saw him lounging on the bed, his phone in hand. But when he looked up and saw you, everything shifted. His eyes moved over you, slowly, deliberately — from your collarbone to the hem of your dress and back up again, as if he was trying to memorize every detail. His expression was unreadable at first, but then something changed. His mouth parted, his posture shifted as he sat up straighter, his eyes locked onto yours.

“…Whoa,” he breathed out, his voice low and surprised.

You swallowed, nervous. “Too much?”

“No,” he said quickly, his tone serious for the first time. “Perfect.”

You couldn’t tell if he was still in character or if this was the real Hongjoong, but the way he was looking at you made your heart race. There was something raw in his gaze, something intense that you hadn’t expected. The air between you thickened, and you couldn’t look away.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching for your shoulder to adjust a stray wrinkle in the strap of your dress, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. “You’re gonna make everyone jealous,” he said, his voice a little rougher than before.

You glanced up at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Of me? Or you?”

His lips curled into a slow, teasing smile, but there was something else in his eyes now — something darker. “Both.”

The tension between you two was palpable, and you felt yourself being drawn in, as if his gaze alone had the power to pull you closer. Your heart raced again, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the thrill of the moment or something else entirely.

You turned quickly, pretending to look through your suitcase for shoes to break the heavy silence. “Heels. Somewhere,” you muttered, hoping the sudden change in focus would settle your racing thoughts.

“Want me to help you try them on, Cinderella?” he asked, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

You threw a shoe at him, but he dodged it with ease, the same smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth.

An hour later, the room was finally organized. Your suitcase was packed, everything was in its place, and you were standing in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth while Hongjoong stood behind you, effortlessly fixing his hair as if this were just another casual hangout.

You spat into the sink, glancing at him in the mirror. “You’re really comfortable here.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, glancing at his reflection. “You’ve got good lighting.”

“…You ever fake-date someone before?”

He paused, looking at you through the reflection. “Nope.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He met your gaze directly, his eyes softening just a little. “You’re my first.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You couldn’t tell if he was being serious, but the way he said it felt too real, too personal. You didn’t have time to process it, though, because he quickly added, “Don’t worry, though. I’ll be a great fake boyfriend.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “You’re kind of annoying.”

He smirked, crossing his arms. “You love it.”

“…Fake love it.”

He turned to face you fully, his playful expression slipping away to be replaced by something quieter, more earnest.

“Listen,” he said, his voice suddenly low and steady. “Just so we’re clear — you get overwhelmed, uncomfortable, need a break — you tell me. I don’t care if we’re mid-toast at the reception. I’ll make an excuse, and we’ll leave.”

You stared at him, the seriousness of his words settling into your chest like a weight you hadn’t expected. That wasn’t playful Hongjoong. That was the real him, the one who cared.

“…Okay,” you said, your voice softening. “Same to you.”

His smile was different this time — softer, more genuine. “We’re a team.”

You nodded, the word settling in your mind. Team. It felt safe. It felt like something you could handle. Even if it didn’t explain why your pulse still spiked every time he looked at you like that.

After what felt like a grueling 14-hour flight, followed by a 25-minute drive that felt even longer, the car finally came to a stop in front of a picturesque two-story house nestled between towering pine trees and neatly manicured white garden walls. The home had a quaint, traditional charm—nothing overly extravagant, but there was a warmth to it, a sense of being well-loved and well-kept. The front yard was immaculate, with smooth stepping stones winding up to a wooden gate that looked like it belonged in some old fairytale. The quiet serenity of the place almost seemed intimidating—like it had its own life, its own pulse.

You shifted in the backseat, your stiff legs protesting after the long flight, and a slight buzz of jet lag making everything feel a little hazy. All you wanted was to collapse into a soft bed and let the world fade away for a while. But as the car slowly rolled to a stop, you forced yourself to sit up straighter, adjusting your coat tighter around your frame, feeling your nerves kick in. This was it—the first time you were about to meet Hongjoong's parents, and your heart was a chaotic mix of excitement and dread.

"You okay?" Hongjoong asked from beside you, his voice carrying a soft concern. His eyes, dark and full of that easy charm you were still getting used to, studied you intently.

You nodded, offering a small, tight-lipped smile. "Just nervous. This is the first 'fake girlfriend meets the parents' I've ever done."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Same here."

You gave him a sideways glance, raising a brow. "You mean to tell me you haven't had a dozen girlfriends fly across the country for you before?"

His grin widened. "Nope. Just one very lucky artist."

You rolled your eyes, but a soft laugh escaped your lips. His playful banter was a welcome distraction, helping to ease the tension in your chest—just a little.

The door opened, and a cool rush of coastal air greeted you, sharp and refreshing. Hongjoong stepped out first, stretching his long frame, his dark hair falling just right, effortlessly messy. He looked at you, an amused glint in his eyes, before offering you his hand. It was warm and steady, his grip reassuring as he helped you out of the car.

You glanced up at the house one last time before following him toward the front door, which had already opened. And there she was—Hongjoong's mom—a whirlwind of energy, a bright smile lighting up her face as she rushed toward him. Her apron was still tied around her waist, her hair clipped back in a messy bun that only added to her effortless charm. She practically tackled Hongjoong into a hug, knocking the air from his lungs, and for a split second, you couldn’t help but smile at how at home he looked in her embrace.

"Joongie!" she squealed, her voice high-pitched but filled with so much love. You stood back, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of awe and slight anxiety.

Hongjoong returned the hug, laughing softly as he ruffled her hair. "Mom!"

Then a taller figure appeared at the door. His father—more reserved, but you could still see the warmth in his eyes. He nodded at you, his greeting short but genuine. "Son."

"Hey, Dad," Hongjoong responded with a quick bow, showing respect, then pulling him into a hug, brief but filled with familiarity.

And then his mom turned to you, her eyes wide with obvious excitement. "You must be the girlfriend! Oh, you’re even prettier than the photos!"

For a second, everything inside you froze. Smile, you reminded yourself. Smile, even though you could feel your heart racing in your chest, your palms suddenly clammy.

You stepped forward, bowing slightly out of respect. "Thank you so much for having me. It’s so nice to meet you both."

Before you could finish your sentence, Hongjoong's mom was pulling you into a hug, her warmth engulfing you in the most welcoming way. "You must be tired, dear! Come in, come in. I made yubu chobap just in case you two were hungry."

You exchanged a quick look with Hongjoong, who gave you a subtle thumbs-up behind his mom's back. You smiled faintly, appreciating the small gesture of support as you followed them inside.

The house was everything you'd expected—warm and inviting, with polished wood floors and soft rugs underfoot. The walls were decorated with family photos—so many memories of a life well-lived. Your eyes caught a few pictures of Hongjoong as a teenager—awkward, yet endearing in his younger years. One photo showed him at graduation, and another had him grinning widely with bleach-blonde hair, looking like he’d just cracked a joke. It was odd, in the most comforting way, to see him like that, so human, so... real.

His mom led you upstairs to a guest room on the second floor. "You two will be staying here," she said with a smile, like she was inviting you to stay for a cup of tea rather than a few days.

You nodded, giving her a grateful smile. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, the weight of everything—the travel, the nerves, the situation—finally hit you. You collapsed onto the bed, face-first into the soft pillows.

"She hugged me," you groaned, voice muffled into the fabric. "Like, full-on hugged me."

Hongjoong laughed, his voice light as he rummaged through his carry-on bag. "That means she likes you."

"I swear, she’s got enough energy to power the whole neighborhood," you muttered, still half-buried in the pillows.

Hongjoong chuckled softly, tossing you your charger before flopping down onto the bed next to you. "You get used to it."

You sat up slowly, running your fingers through your hair. "She thinks we’re really dating," you said, the words feeling surreal as they left your lips. "That’s... wild."

"We are, remember?" Hongjoong said, his voice teasing as he shot you a wink.

You rolled your eyes and, without thinking, grabbed a pillow from the bed and tossed it at him. He caught it easily, grinning all the while.

A few hours later, the house was buzzing with energy. The sound of voices and laughter filtered through the walls, and you could hear the clinking of pots and pans from the kitchen. Family members continued to trickle in, and you could sense the excitement building in the air. Tonight wasn’t just about meeting the parents—it was a pre-ceremony gathering for a wedding, a celebration that was already setting the tone for the days to come.

You stood in front of your suitcase, staring at the dress you’d brought for the occasion—simple, elegant, yet undeniably flattering. The same black dress you’d worn earlier. It felt more real now than it ever had before.

You were mid-way through changing when a knock tapped lightly at your door.

"Yeah?"

"It’s me," Hongjoong’s voice came through, soft but deliberate. "Need help with your zipper?"

You hesitated for a split second. Then, almost instinctively, you replied, "...Yes, actually."

The door opened a second later, and there he was—Hongjoong, looking impossibly good for someone who’d spent the past half-day in airports and airplanes. His white button-down shirt was tucked in neatly, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal the strong muscles of his forearms. A simple chain hung from his neck, and he looked every bit the man who had his life together—something you were still trying to figure out.

He stopped when he saw you, his gaze trailing over the way the dress hugged your frame. There was a moment of complete silence—heavy, charged—before he stepped closer, his fingers brushing the zipper of your dress with careful precision.

"You look beautiful," he said softly, his voice low, just for you.

Your chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone. You met his gaze in the mirror, a quiet heat spreading between you.

"Thanks," you murmured, heart skipping a beat. The way his eyes softened when they met yours—it was hard to ignore.

He adjusted the strap of your dress on your shoulder, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that made your breath hitch slightly. Then he stepped back, clearing his throat, as though trying to push away whatever unspoken tension had settled between you.

"Ready to make our grand entrance?" he asked, his usual easy confidence returning.

You nodded, your nerves creeping back in, but this time, you were a little less scared. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

Downstairs, the house was already alive with people. Aunts and uncles chatting, cousins catching up, a sea of familiar faces all eager to meet you. Their laughter and conversation created a comforting hum in the air, but even with all the noise, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being on display. Everyone seemed to want a piece of you, to get to know you, and you did your best to meet their expectations.

You smiled brightly, laughing when necessary, your attention shifting between the various conversations that seemed to pull you in different directions. Hongjoong was by your side most of the time, his hand gently brushing against yours, giving you that reassuring sense of stability in the midst of the chaotic family gathering. You let yourself fall into the rhythm of the event, trying to ignore the nerves that lingered in your chest every time his hand settled lightly on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. His touch was warm, deliberate, like he was always just a step ahead of you, anticipating your every need.

When his mother asked for a photo, you didn’t hesitate, slipping your hand into his as if you had been doing it for years. His mother beamed at the sight, the camera capturing the perfect moment. And even though it was all just part of the act, a little voice in your head couldn’t ignore the way Hongjoong’s smile seemed to reach his eyes when he glanced at you.

As the night wore on, you began to feel the weight of the act you were playing. It was exhausting, and while you weren’t exactly complaining, you couldn’t help but feel like you were pretending to be someone you weren’t. But despite that, something about it felt… right. His presence, his warmth, his charm — it was like you were already part of the family, like you were always meant to be here. The deeper you got into the role, the more your heart thudded in your chest, and it was hard to tell whether it was just nerves or something more.

Eventually, the crowd began to thin out, and the reception shifted into something quieter, more intimate. The music drifted softly in the background, a gentle melody weaving through the air, setting a calm atmosphere. The moment you and Hongjoong found a secluded corner, you let out a sigh of relief, leaning against him as the tension you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto started to dissipate.

"I deserve an award," you muttered, taking the glass of juice he handed you, grateful for the brief respite.

Hongjoong chuckled, his lips curling into a soft smile. "You’re killing it. My uncle already asked if we’re thinking about marriage."

You nearly choked on your drink, eyes wide in surprise. "You didn’t say yes, right?"

His grin widened, and the mischievous glint in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. "I said it’s too early to tell, but I’m hopeful."

You buried your face in your hands, mortified. "Oh my god, Hongjoong."

He chuckled, nudging you gently with his knee. "Relax, you’re doing great."

You peeked at him from behind your fingers, your heart still racing, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. "You’re actually pretty good at this," you admitted quietly.

Hongjoong’s gaze softened as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping into something tender, almost serious. "Maybe it doesn’t have to be fake. Not all of it."

You felt your breath catch in your throat, and for a moment, everything else in the room seemed to blur into the background. His words, so casual but so sincere, struck a chord deep inside you. You looked away, your heart pounding, because that warmth in your chest? It wasn’t fake at all. It was real, undeniable, and it terrified you.

The wedding, which had begun as just a role to play, had already begun to feel like home.

It wasn’t a lavish affair — no towering chandeliers or grandiose displays. Instead, it was simple, elegant, and effortlessly beautiful. The venue had an intimate charm, the soft candlelight casting a golden glow over everything, filling the space with a warmth that made you feel like you were in a dream. The air was thick with the melody of gentle music, the kind that made you want to close your eyes and let the notes wash over you, grounding you in the moment. It wasn’t just the setting, though. It was the people, too. Every single person here felt like a familiar face, like family. Their warmth, their genuine smiles, made it feel less like a wedding and more like a gathering of people who had known each other for a lifetime.

You had come to this wedding thinking you were just playing a part — pretending to be Hongjoong’s girlfriend for the evening. But as you found yourself surrounded by people who embraced you like you were already one of them, the lines between reality and performance began to blur.

As the night wore on and the reception took on a more playful tone, the tension between you and Hongjoong continued to shift. It was subtle at first, a playful glance here, a teasing word there, but you could feel it — that invisible thread that seemed to pull you closer to him, binding you together with every passing minute. And when the music shifted, beckoning the guests to the dance floor, Hongjoong leaned in, his voice low and teasing.

"You sure you don’t want to dance?" he asked, his breath warm against your ear, sending a ripple of excitement through your body. There was something about his proximity, the way he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, that made everything feel heightened.

You shook your head, eyes still fixed on the glass in your hand as you tried to keep your composure. "I told you. I can’t dance."

His smile widened, his amusement clear. "Well, you never know unless you try, right?" His voice dropped, sending a thrill through you. "What’s the worst that could happen? You’ll have a blast. Trust me."

You hesitated, your eyes flicking nervously to the dance floor where other couples swayed effortlessly to the rhythm. The thought of joining them made your stomach flip, and a wave of self-doubt washed over you. What if you embarrassed yourself? What if you couldn’t keep up?

Before you could voice your hesitation, Hongjoong’s voice lowered again, this time just a whisper, the promise of safety laced in his tone. "I promise I’ll protect you from any bad dancing."

There was something in his words, a softness that made the butterflies in your stomach settle into something warmer, more comfortable. It wasn’t just a playful tease; it was a reassurance, a subtle promise that he would be there, grounding you when your nerves threatened to overtake you.

A soft laugh escaped you, your nervous tension easing just slightly. "Fine," you relented, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "But if I trip, I’m blaming you."

Hongjoong laughed, the sound deep and soothing, as he took your hand, leading you toward the dance floor. His touch was light but firm, guiding you through the crowd with ease. The moment you stepped onto the floor, the music slowed, and everything seemed to fall into place. He pulled you close, his hand resting at your waist, his touch gentle but secure, and the world around you seemed to disappear. His heartbeat was steady beneath your palm, and for a moment, you forgot about the crowd, about the nerves, and simply focused on him — on the feel of his body next to yours, his warmth, his presence.

"Relax," he murmured, his thumb brushing softly over the waistband of your dress, sending a shiver of warmth through you. The simple gesture, the way he made you feel grounded, was like a reassurance that you weren’t alone in this. "I’ve got you."

You nodded, focusing on his touch as he guided you through the steps. His movements were fluid, confident, while yours were less sure. But with every step, every shift of his body, you found yourself relaxing more, your nerves melting away under his steady gaze.

"You’re doing great," he whispered into your ear, his words like a balm, soothing the last traces of hesitation that lingered. The praise was soft, genuine, and it made something inside you flutter. His hand on your waist tightened ever so slightly, and you couldn’t help but smile, the last of your self-doubt slipping away as you moved with him.

As the song came to an end, Hongjoong’s parents erupted into applause, their cheers sincere and filled with pride. "Perfect! You two were wonderful together!" his mother called out, her voice filled with warmth and affection.

Hongjoong shrugged modestly, but his gaze softened as he caught your eye. "Guess we make a good team," he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

The compliment made your heart skip a beat, and before you could respond, his mother teased again. "Well, since you two are already dancing, why not continue? Maybe even show some of the other couples how it’s done!"

His father agreed enthusiastically. "That’s a great idea. Come on, show us your moves!"

Hongjoong laughed, the mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "I guess we’re stuck here for a little longer."

You smiled, even as your nerves flared up again, but his hand in yours was a steadying force. "Guess so," you replied, trying to mask the nervousness that crept back. But as he led you back into the dance, his touch unwavering, you couldn’t help but feel a little less self-conscious, as though, with him by your side, you could face anything.

The night stretched on, with every glance, every touch, every word exchanged between you and Hongjoong making the connection between you feel more real, more undeniable. And as you stood beside him, listening to the gentle rhythm of the music, you found yourself wondering just how much of this night was real. How much of this feeling between you, this warmth, was something that could last beyond the wedding?

And when Hongjoong suggested a walk, you eagerly agreed, stepping into the cool night air, your hand still firmly in his. The streets of Busan were quiet now, and as you walked side by side, the world around you seemed to fade into the background. All that mattered was the quiet conversation, the softness of his gaze, the way he made you feel like you belonged.

"You did amazing tonight," he murmured, his voice low and sincere, sending a wave of warmth through you.

"I survived," you replied, trying to downplay the emotions swirling inside you, but the warmth in your chest gave you away.

Hongjoong chuckled, his grip tightening slightly around your hand. "You did more than survive. You were amazing."

His words lingered in the air, and for a moment, everything felt a little more real, a little more solid. The evening had brought you closer to him, closer to something that was beginning to feel like it could be something more than just a role.

As the night wore on, you both continued to walk, the quiet streets of Busan stretching out before you, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel alone.

After the wedding festivities had come to a close, the night air felt cool against your skin as you walked back with Hongjoong, his hand casually brushing against yours as you made your way to the car. His parents had bid the two of you a warm farewell, headed off to their hotel room, and now it was just you and Hongjoong, the last leg of the night before you could finally get some rest.

The car ride was quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine and the occasional comment from Hongjoong about how the night had gone. You couldn’t help but feel a small sense of contentment in the back of your mind. The wedding, the dancing, the moments of shared laughter—it had all felt so... right. But now that the night was winding down, there was a new wave of nerves settling in your stomach.

The drive was short, only about 25 minutes from the venue, and soon enough, you arrived at Hongjoong’s family’s house. It was a beautiful, well-maintained home with a cozy feel to it—soft lights glowing from the windows and the faint sound of music still playing in the background from the celebration.

Hongjoong opened the car door for you, offering his hand to help you out. You took it with a soft smile, grateful for his constant care throughout the day. It wasn’t long before the two of you were inside the house, standing in the entryway, with the scent of dinner still lingering in the air.

Hongjoong’s parents were already heading up to their room for the night, leaving the two of you to head up the stairs to the guest room. The tension in the air wasn’t heavy, but you could feel it—it was the same tension you’d been navigating all night, only now it was slightly more intimate, slightly more real.

“Alright,” Hongjoong said, pausing at the door to the guest room. “This is where we’ll sleep.”

You nodded, taking in the soft, elegant room. A queen-sized bed was neatly made, the bedspread smooth and inviting after a long day. There was a couch in the corner with a fluffy throw blanket draped over it, and the soft light from a lamp by the bedside gave the room a calm, warm ambiance.

“Nice,” you murmured, your gaze flitting from the bed to Hongjoong. The thought of sharing a bed with him, even though it was for the sake of the charade, still made your heart skip a beat.

Hongjoong glanced back at you with a smirk, his hands slipping into the pockets of his jacket. “I’ll let you get changed first,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just… try to be convincing, okay? If my parents come in—”

“I know,” you interrupted, your voice quieter than you intended. “Act like we’re a couple.”

He raised an eyebrow, his teasing smile widening. “Right. We’re pretending to be in love.”

You turned your gaze to the bathroom door, suddenly feeling more self-conscious. The thought of changing into something more comfortable, then lying next to him as though everything was perfectly normal, made you anxious.

“I’ll just… change, then,” you said, and before he could respond, you quickly made your way into the bathroom.

Inside, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You could do this. You had to do this. Just act like it was nothing. Act like everything was completely fine. You quickly changed into a simple set of pajamas—a loose, soft shirt, and comfortable shorts—and tried to calm your racing thoughts. The last thing you wanted was for this to feel awkward.

When you stepped back into the room, Hongjoong had already changed into a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, checking his phone, but as soon as he saw you, he raised his eyes with a slight smile.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice calm, but you could see the subtle way he was studying you.

You nodded, hesitating for just a second before joining him at the edge of the bed. It was a moment of pause, the kind where both of you were trying to figure out the unspoken rules of this situation—how to lie next to each other and still make it look real.

Hongjoong stretched out on the bed, making a show of fluffing the pillows. “You want the right side?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was an underlying playfulness in his voice.

You nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

He shifted so that he was lying on his back, the space between you on the bed feeling almost too large for comfort. You sat on your side, pulling the covers up over yourself, but you didn’t dare turn away from him. Not yet.

The silence stretched between you for a moment, before Hongjoong shifted again, this time moving closer. “You know, it’s funny,” he said, his voice almost contemplative. “I’ve never had to pretend to be in a relationship before.”

You chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension. “Well, you’re doing great.”

His eyes glinted mischievously as he slid his arm behind your back, pulling you closer until your shoulders brushed. The touch felt warm and surprisingly comforting, though you were still acutely aware of how close you were, how the bed seemed too small for the both of you.

“I think I can handle it,” he said, his voice low. “We just need to be convincing.”

You shifted awkwardly, then hesitated before settling your head on the pillow. “Right. Convincing.”

Hongjoong let out a soft laugh, his hand gently resting on your waist. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it was firm enough to make your heart flutter. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just kept his hand there, letting the quiet fill the space between you.

Then, as if to break the silence, he asked, “Are you comfortable?”

You nodded, despite the way your pulse was quickening. “Yeah. Just a little… weird, you know?”

Hongjoong’s hand slid gently up your back, giving you a light squeeze. “I know. But it’ll be fine.”

His reassurance, coupled with the fact that his hand stayed there, grounding you, made the nerves slowly dissipate. The room was quiet again, save for the distant sound of his parents moving around downstairs, settling in for the night. Hongjoong’s breathing was slow and even, his warmth seeping into you as you tried to relax.

And for a moment, it felt easy. Like you could breathe without overthinking everything. But as the minutes ticked by, and the potential of his parents walking in hung in the air, you both shifted, moving closer under the covers, until your bodies were almost flush against each other.

His hand found yours, fingers interlacing naturally. The touch was soft, almost intimate, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized that even though this was all part of the act, the act was starting to feel a little too real.

"Just like this," Hongjoong whispered, his thumb brushing against your hand.

You nodded, biting your lip, trying to hold back the butterflies. “Yeah, just like this.”

And as the night stretched on, you both lay there, the intimacy of the moment hanging between you like a secret. It felt fragile. But with Hongjoong beside you, you couldn’t help but wonder if, maybe, just maybe, this act might be something more than either of you had planned.

Taglist: @vampzity @sooniedoongiedori25 @mhluvie @yaorzu-blog @lze325 @felixleftchickennugget @m-325 @lezleeferguson-120 @psychicyouthfox @pixie-felix @angel-writes-here @heechwe @galaxy4489 @minniesverse @ateezswonderland @spenceatiny18 @ewsnup @jilxxasu @justjj97

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jj-one · 1 year ago

Text

A MODERN LOVE STORY.

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

when your tinder date who was supposed to be just a hook up becomes your boyfriend within a week.

pairing: han jisung x f!reader genre/tags: pwp, smut, fluff, jisung is such a gentleman, fingering, oral (m receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), major size kink, slight daddy kink (not surprised), jisung has huge dick, jisung cums on readers face, i think that's it Imk if i missed any o_0 words: 4.5k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Dating apps were never really your thing, you’ve always been an “old fashioned” kind of girl. You’ve secretly dreamt of meeting your lover in a grocery store or bumping into them at a library where you instantly fall in love. Unfortunately, you can’t be delusional forever, your Prince Charming isn’t going to just come knocking for you at your doorstep. Unless…you find someone who can come to your doorstep but through an app, Tinder. You decided to give it a try and see what all the hype was about after your best friend Ryujin raved about all the hot guys she was meeting— and banging.

You often found yourself quite jealous of all the good sex she was getting, she could have anything she wanted all at her fingertips. You were always horny and looking for the next toy to play with but you decided maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to try and find a cute guy to hook up with and relieve some quick stress. You may be old fashioned but you weren’t too uptight to have a hook up once in a while.

You downloaded Tinder for once in your lifetime and wrote in all your info, chose your best photos, and made a silly little bio. Your bio was just ‘looking for a fun time, need someone who can break my back, not my heart’ you know it super lame but most guys like corny shit like that anyway. You swiped for ages and ages, barely giving anyone a right swipe because you were way too picky. They had to be top tier in the visual department even if they were just a one night stand, you’ll always have standards. You were getting tired of swiping and just about to call it a night up until you swiped on the next profile. His name was Han and he only lived 2.5 miles from you.

As you were scrolling through his profile, you couldn’t stop thinking how hot he was, his hair was blonde, and he always wore the same cross necklace in his all photos. You read his profile some more and saw that he has a dog named Bbama and you smiled at how adorable his dog was. You instantly swiped right after seeing the dog pics and you couldn’t believe you matched with him already. Your heart kind of skipped a beat for a second and you closed the app immediately. You didn’t think he’d be so quick to match with you and you wanted to message him but your pride got in the way. You figured he’s way too fine to even message you back, he probably gets floods of messages from girls asking. You decide to play it cool and not say anything, instead you took a screenshot of his profile and sent it to Ryujin.

She texts you back a couple minutes later and says she thinks he’s really hot, you’re glad she approves but you’re not surprised that she wouldn’t. You go through his profile again and see that he has his Instagram linked to his Tinder, you go to his Instagram account and continue your stalking spree. You see a bunch of pics of his dog, food, and mostly outdoorsy stuff. You didn’t figure him to be the wilderness type of guy but he was, he’s been hiking all over different mountains and has photos of him at the very top. You were in awe of how fearless this man was, you were swayed already by how he presented himself.

Your phone buzzes with a new notification.

‘Han sent you a message’ Tinder alerts you of 2 new notifications from him. You open the messages immediately, a huge grin plastered on your face as you read what he said to you.

‘Hi y/n’

‘What’s your favorite food?’

‘I’m taking notes on where I need to take you on our first date’

That was very smooth but also straightforward, you liked him already.

‘Pho, I could eat it everyday’

‘You’re already planning our date? lol’

You sent the messages and texted Ryujin straight away, telling her how much of a success this was already going. She tells you how much she was right all along and how you’ve been missing out this whole time, you just giggle at her shenanigans.

You get another notification from Tinder and it’s from your favorite new guy already.

‘Yes, how could I not? You’re a 10/10’

You smile to yourself when reading at that comment, you never really saw yourself as a perfect 10 but if someone this highly attractive sees you that way then you must be a smokeshow. Han sends you another message,

‘I can pick you up tmrw at 5? Dinner is on me babe so no need to bring a wallet ;)’

You bit your lip at that last sentence, who would’ve known someone this sexy could be your sugar daddy AND fuck buddy? Ok well maybe the sugar daddy part was just a joke. It definitely turned you on knowing that he’s willing to spend his money on you without you feeling guilt about it though.

‘See you at 5 <3’ you reply to him.

The very next day you’re in the car going to your date with Han. The moment you laid eyes on him there was a lustful nature that came out of you. You didn’t even think it could be possible but he looked even better in person, the pictures didn’t do him justice whatsoever. His jawline was insane, it was sharp and looked absolutely perfect from his side profile. His hair was a little messy but in a really cute way, he had a small silver stud in his ear and wore his cross necklace like the one in his photos. You couldn’t believe it was really him in your driveway, he had to be the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. He wore a plain black T-shirt with baggy jeans and converse, he looked effortlessly cool. He was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other was playing with his radio. He was trying to get the Aux cord to work properly but it just wasn’t cooperating with him, he decides to just leave it alone.

“So uh.. anyway is this your first Tinder date?” He asks trying to break the awkward silence.

“Yeah, actually it is,” you tell him “I’m not the hugest fan of dating apps but I decided why not give it a shot.” You say as your shrug your shoulders.

“Ah I see, well you met me so that’s a good sign so far right?” He asks with a goofy grin on his face, you couldn’t help but giggle at his quirkiness.

You talk for a bit more in the car and get to know each other, as you’re getting nearer to the destination he comes to a stop into a parking lot. He gets out of the car first and opens the door for you on your side.

“M’lady,” Han says in a funny voice, taking your hand in his as you get out the car. You’re loving his silly and fun energy so far, it’s definitely bringing your mood up as you had no expectations for how this would go.

The date ended up going extremely well, you both couldn’t stop laughing and cracking jokes together. Everything felt super lighthearted and easygoing with Han, you felt like you could say just about anything with him, feeling like you’ve known him for much longer than a couple of hours. He bought so much expensive meat for the both of you at the restaurant and the pho was fantastic. You’ve never been to this particular restaurant before as it was a bit too out of your price range, you were surprised when he told you he ate here frequently. You wanted to ask him what he does for a living but you don’t want to seem rude. You ate as much as you could and he definitely ate way more than you, lightly making fun at the way you eat. You do eat pretty slow so you aren’t shocked by the way he’s noticing that already.

You like the way Han eats because he stores food in his cheeks like a squirrel, usually that action would give you the ick but with him you find it quite endearing. Once you both finish eating at the restaurant he takes you to a pier where there’s pretty lights near the water. It was a nice day to go out on a walk so he grabbed your hand and led the way down the path. You guys talked so much for hours about any and everything, you talked for so long that you ended up watching the sunset together, then looked at the stars. When you looked down and noticed that you’ve been holding hands with him this whole time, but you didn’t want to point it out to Han incase he’d let go.

You’ve spent a total of only 5 hours with this man but you really do feel as though you’ve known him your whole life. He was so fun to talk to, handsome, and literally the sweetest person ever, it made you question how someone this perfect could even be single. You really couldn’t wait any longer for him to end up in your bed tonight and that’s exactly what you planned to happen. As the night progresses you ask him if he wants to come back to your place for the night. He looks surprised yet obliges and drives back to your apartment. It was pretty late at night and you only had your tiny lamp in the kitchen on, so you couldn’t see much of where you were going. You turn around to face Han who’s been staring you up and down this whole time.

You didn’t even have much time to take off your jacket before Han’s lips were all over yours. His hands roamed all over your body and yours were now tangled in his messy blonde hair. He startles you for a second when he picks you up and lifts you onto the marble kitchen countertop, not breaking the kiss once. He bites down on your lower lip slightly, making you gasp so he can easily slip his tongue in you. His movements were gentle and he kisses you so passionately, one of his hands comes up behind your neck and the other is stroking the apex of your thigh. As you both pull away from kissing, he stops to stare at you for the longest second.

“You are so beautiful y/n,” he says, stroking your hair and tucking some behind your ear, then he kisses your ear and licks it. He continues peppering a few more kisses downwards and to your neck, beginning to suck lightly, causing you to let out a quiet moan. He leaves a couple small hickies around your neck and kisses your lips once again. You tug at his T-shirt and motion for him to take it off, he does as he’s told and removes it from his body. You get a faint look at his chest since it’s a such little bit of light in the kitchen, from what you can see however, he looks perfect. When he comes closer, you can feel his rock solid abs, you know he works out but you weren’t expecting him to be this fit.

You go back to making out for awhile and his hands are now laid on your chest. He cups both of your boobs in his hands and kneads them through your thin shirt, he realizes this isn’t enough for him so he slides his hands underneath your shirt. He ran his fingers against your nipples and starts to pinch them lightly, making you moan directly into his mouth. He groans when you bring your hand lower to his pelvis, trying to locate his belt so you can tell him to take it off. You finally reach something you presume to be leather and you grab it, bringing his body closer to you in the process.

“You want me to take this off huh?” Han asks, pointing to his belt but all you see is his erect dick print through his jeans.

You nod your head profusely, “yes pleasee, right now!”

He grins at you while slowly taking off his belt, throwing it down on the floor and now he’s stroking his cock through his pants. You hear him groan a little bit as you can see him palming himself, wanting to take him in your mouth so bad.

“Let me give you head,” you say almost desperately, you didn’t mean for it to sound so needy but you really wanted— no needed his cock.

“Okay,” he says smiling back at you, “sounds great to me.”

You get up from the kitchen counter and now position yourself on the floor, on your knees. You never pictured yourself to be the one sucking a random guy off Tinder’s dick but hey, things just so happen to turn out that way. You unzip Han’s pants and gently pull them down, he was wearing pink supreme boxers and you expected nothing less from him. You pull down his boxers too and his erect cock springs up out of them like a slinky. Eyes growing wide in awe as you couldn’t wait for his giant, thick cock to go into your mouth. You start to stroke his length and realize that one hand won’t be enough to do the job, you have to use two to get a good firm grasp around it and even then it’s still a few inches off.

You contemplate how you’re even going to fit all of him into your mouth but you think of the consequences later. You continue pumping his cock with your hands and he moans lowly under his breath. You lick the tip of his cock and he winces a little, that must be his sensitive spot. You suck on the tip and guide your mouth to slowly take in more of his cock, keeping a suction-tight grip on him as you keep lowering your head. You get to a point where you start to physically choke and gag on his cock, your saliva was getting everywhere now, all over your chin, your chest, his cock, and some even spilled on the floor. You know you have to be a good girl and take all of him but you never had someone this big before.

“You have such a nice dick,” you blurt out while taking a break, wanting to please him more than anything.

“Thank you baby,” Han smiles down at you while you bring his cock back into your mouth, this time breathing through your nose you have a better chance at taking him all. You were successful and managed to get most of it inside your mouth, maybe just a couple centimeters off. You kept at it, sucking his cock like your life literally depended on it, shooting your head back and forth making you feel dizzy.

“Mmm yeah… that’s it baby… just like that-” Han moans out for you with his eyes closed shut and head thrown back, you’re making him feel so good right now.

“I think I’m gonna cum y/n…”

You continue what you’ve been doing for the past 15 minutes or so, sucking his cock at an even faster rate. You look up at him and give him a sultry look with your eyes, you need to feel his cum all over you.

“Please cum on my face daddy,” you tell him, you used to let your ex cum on your face all the time and you were craving for that kind of thing at the moment. You keep deepthroating him and making gagging noises in the process, wanting him to know just how hard you’re working for his cum. He lets out a long moan and keeps saying he’s about to cum, you tap his dick on your tongue so you can get a taste of his load shooting out and then… you suddenly go blind. Han’s load comes out so fast that it got everywhere, causing some of it to get into your eye. You couldn’t see for a bit and rubbed your eye, feeling a thick, sticky substance on your left cheek. Han’s cum was now painted all over your face, some even got on your shoulder and landed on the floor. You smiled at how much cum you caused to come out his dick, feeling awfully proud of yourself.

You get up from your knees and start kissing again, he brings you back to the counter you were originally sitting on and he toys with the waistband of your skirt. He pulls your skirt down and begins rubbing your pussy through your underwear, dragging his fingers along your slit and teasing you. You whimper as you buck your hips up, wanting to feel his fingers on your clit. He finally moves your panties to the side and starts rubbing his middle finger against your swollen clit.

“Damn, you’re wet as fuck…” he says, looking at your glistening, wet pussy. He circles your clit and spits on it, mixing your juices with his saliva. He then dips his finger inside your hole, you let out a moan as he starts pushing his finger in and out. The sound of his fingers going in your wet pussy sound so dirty yet so blissful. He kisses you as he keeps fingering you, spreading you open with another finger. You’re such a moaning mess and it’s all thanks to Han’s wonderful fingers. You were arching your back at the sensation you were feeling, his thumb is now rubbing your clit while two of his fingers are still inside. You wanted his cock so badly, but you were going to have to ask nicely for it.

“I need you…” you whine to Han, you don’t know why you were too shy to say what you needed the most though.

“Need what baby?” He asks with his fingers still deep inside your sopping cunt, you were aching for something bigger and it’s making you go crazy.

“Your cock… need your cock, please!” You practically beg at this point for it. Han’s smile grew wider as he saw how needy you were already acting for him.

“As you wish pretty girl,” he says, taking his fingers out and licking the juices off of them one by one. He takes his cock in his hand and rubs it along your folds, he feels how soaking wet you are and it’s already enough to make him want to burst. He doesn’t think he’s a fast cummer (is that a word?) but for you, he’d nut instantly. He slides his thick, long cock into your little pussy, making you audibly gasp in pain and pleasure.

The size of him is enough to make you want to never be able to walk again, but you think once he’s done with you he’ll be leaving you permanently bed ridden.

“Just relax baby, you can take it all trust me..” Han assures you as he continues to slide his length inside, your wetness mixed with the sounds of his dick makes for the perfect porn audio. Your legs were spreading wide open and rested on his shoulders, he was taking nice and slow strokes at first. He wants you to become more adjusted to his size, he’s finally able to get all of himself in. You look down at your stomach to see a giant bulge, his cock was so big that he practically took up half of your torso.

“Ready baby?” Han whispers in your ear, asking for the okay to start thrusting deeper into you. You nod as you were finally getting used to him, he goes a little faster and starts to build a steady pace. His cock is hitting the back of your walls nicely and you feel every inch of him inside you. The cross necklace he was still wearing dangled over you, which was pretty ironic for the sinful act you two were committing at the moment. Wrapping your arms around his neck as he moves deeper into you, stretching you out like the little whore you are. You feel yourself growing wetter with each thrust and he’s grabbing your waist tightly with both hands.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good… my god..” Han says moaning, his eyes are closed again as he keeps fucking your tight pussy. You took his cock so well, you were so proud of yourself.

“Your cock feels amazing daddy,” you whimper out to him as you continue moaning his name, feeling like you’re about to cum already. Han’s breath becomes more irregular and his strokes are getting messier, you can tell he’s reaching his climax as well.

“Let’s cum together.” Han coaxes, holding your hand while fucking into you, his cock fits all the way inside without hurting you now and all you feel is immense pleasure. You nod your head in agreement with him and focus on reaching your high. A wave of ecstasy washes over you as Han hits a certain spot in you, his dick is so big that it can reach little places you never felt before, it’s an incredible feeling. Your head swings back as you feel your orgasm approaching, you let out a few curse words and catch your breath. Han feels his release coming too and quickly pulls out, he pumps his cock for a little bit with his right hand and watches his load shoot out onto your stomach. He lets out an erotic groan as he finishes off his last bit of cum and strokes his cock a little more.

“Fuck that was the best sex I’ve ever had..” Han says while panting, grabbing your face to pull into you a breathless kiss.

“Yeah, that was definitely amazing,” you respond after pulling away, smiling at his first impressions of you.

It was now midnight and you were both exhausted, you two were too fucked out to do anything else and Han was way too tired to head home that night. You didn’t mind Han staying over at your place, to be honest, it felt pretty normal. As you both got into bed he gave you tons of forehead kisses and cradled you to sleep, his embrace felt safe and protecting. You never wanted to leave his presence and neither did he.

It was the early hours of the morning and the sun is beaming on your face through the sheer white curtains. You wake up to a familiar smell coming from your kitchen, it was the smell of eggs and pancakes cooking. You put on some clothes quickly to head to your kitchen, you see Han in nothing but his underwear cooking you breakfast. You looked at the clock and saw that it was only 7:04 am, how is he already awake at this time of the morning? You make your way on over to him and give him a chaste kiss, telling him good morning. He finishes up cooking and grabs some plates for the both of you. You couldn’t believe your eyes right now, your Tinder date that you just hooked up with last night is now cooking you breakfast. You want to feel like you’re living in a dream but the more you keep blinking the more real this situation feels.

“Ready to eat babe?” Han asks, handing you a plate full of food. You nod, still trying to process everything that’s going on but you don’t want to keep questioning it. You sit at the table with Han and eat your food. You both talk as though everything is normal, still making little jokes with each other like yesterday’s date. The food he made was pretty good and you were wondering what other hidden skills he may have been hiding. You’re now questioning what could be wrong with him since he’s so perfect, why hasn’t someone like him not been snatched up yet? As you finish eating you head back upstairs, Han follows you.

“What’re you doing?” You ask him, turning around to face him in confusion.

“Im just following where you’re going,” he admits sheepishly.

“But why?” You genuinely want to know why he’s considered still being here and isn’t fleeing after finally getting what he wanted.

“I want to stay here for a while,” he says while looking away at something else, he was a bit shy to ask if he could stay over for another day.

“For how long?” You ask, wondering if he’s serious about his infatuation with you.

“I- I don’t know, can I just stay for one more night? Please y/n?” He holds your hand, gently caressing and rubbing it.

You feel conflicted, on one hand you want someone you can feel connected to on a deeper level but the other hand is making you want to keep this relationship as no strings attached. You sigh as you see the glint in his eyes, his eyes were all it took for you to give into him.

“Okay” you say, he smiles as he hears your swift response. He presses a soft kiss against your lips and lets you lead the way back to your room.

Four days have passed and Han is still staying in your apartment with you. You decided you didn’t actually hate his company and that it was just the fear of commitment that made you reluctant. Han was different though, he brought a side out of you that no one else has. He brings you flowers, makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, listens to your problems/needs/wants/desires, shuts up when he’s supposed to, and does anything you say at the drop of a hat.

He’s the perfect guy for you and you met him on something you wouldn’t have tried if it wasn’t for your best friend. You’re still in shock by how you and Han are basically in a relationship now, I mean who stays at someone’s house for almost a week if they weren’t falling in love? You should be happy yet you’re nervous, you’re nervous about telling Ryujin, what if she thinks you’re moving too fast? You didn’t tell anyone about this “relationship” yet since you’ve never rushed into things this quickly with someone.

Han was a great person and you knew that with every fiber of your being, you just didn’t know if others would see that through just a few days of talking. You know you’re going to have to do it at some point since you’re actually thinking about getting serious with him. Han has been nothing more than amazing to you and if everyone else doesn’t see that then they’re crazy, you can’t convince everyone to like him but you start to feel as though it won’t be an issue for him. You think he’ll fit in just fine with everyone in due time ♡

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