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moonctzeny · 2 years

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The Art of Seduction - The Rogue

pairing: coworker! yuta x female! reader (nct 127 series)

genre: smut, angst, fluff

word count: 4.6k

warnings: switch reader, dom yuta, finger sucking, fingering, squirting, choking, handjob, mentions of oral sex, dacryphilia, corruption kink, semi-public sex, sex toys, deception, manipulation

summary: “Though I fear neither God nor devil, when I am in (her) presence I am ready to tremble like a child, and (s)he could make me go through the eye of a needle to throw myself into the fire.”

The Rogues have lived the good life and experienced many pleasures. On the outside, they tend to seem cynical and jaded, but their worldliness often hides a sentimentality that they have struggled to repress. They have tamped down their own romantic tendencies for so long that when it bursts forth, they lose control.

The Art of Seduction Masterlist (series)

Taglist: @lilyliline21, @artgukk, @nicolemelton, @aaasteroidsky, @donutswithjaminthemiddle, @junkyuruto, @jwoos-colored, @aedreamzy, @blue-tyong, @ncteaxhoe, @cutejaeyunie, @jj-ms, @winxnct, @commentgirl, @jonecb-97, @resceluwu, @hyvnjinct, @marklee-hobi-cb97, @yyyyyooooohh, @lovejungwonie, @ahgastayzen, @got-sum-badhabits, @deobitiful, @ivoryyyy, @markable6, @cdellee, @exozenhoe, @meowniee, @nctloml, @ermahgerd101, @aqui-a, @neozhoen, @flower-lise, @blossom-rea, @pjnjzc, @jayla-lover, @smexosthetik, @nctlovesme, @kenzie-gifford, @bunnylover0193, @hyuckssimpclub, @syhznanny, @myeowmyeow, @popsuhcle, @sehunniepot, @bitchenderyy, @piaozhisheng, @b4y-b, @mynctlib, @brattybunforbts, @mariamaravilla, @sweetjaemss, @violetwinters, @haechanies-mommy, @kwoncheesecake, @ningningsworlds, @lighthyucks, @jenoxygen, @ryu-naa, @mushroomkwan, @revehosh, @lcveshotx, @multistan30, @constipation08, @painted-hills, @neomulucased, @jeongyunoenjoyer, @xsnelly, @hwangful, @secretlypg95, @soffsophia, @ahtisa02, @thejungjaehyun, @yincotton, @lilzmeowmeow, @if-i-like-i-reblog, @itsjustveryhard, @kaja2016, @jujusnogood, @minejungwoo, @k1llejoyss, @goingbananasoverpotassium, @rinasluvs, @nonnnimous, @glassesandsnarkiness, @imagining-constantly, @bebskyy, @got-sum-badhabits, @xuxindaeyo, @jaeminsbebu, @milkyway-vxm, @multifandom127, @markswurld, @sluttoru, @ishireads, @mooondaily, @just-some-random-blogger, @spiderlilyfics, @kyungsooislifeu

<-PART 3

PART 4 - The Rogue

“Shit”, you mutter under your breath, phone pressed so closely to your ear it almost hurts. You can faintly hear the consecutive ‘beeps’ from the speaker, the loud club music covering most of the sound.

28 minutes. That’s all it took for your friend to ditch you. You should have seen it coming from the moment she suggested the night out, the celebration of the end of your exams coinciding with her and her boyfriend’s anniversary all too merrily. You barely managed to order a drink before they got their hands all over each other, and a quick trip to the bathroom was all the distraction they needed to successfully abandon you.

Reminded of the alcohol in your hands, you take a brave sip, shoving your phone in your purse defeatedly. While taking out your anger on the straw between your teeth, you admit that perhaps part of your frustration might be rooted in jealousy. When was the last time you were with a man? Your long count of months got interrupted by him.

The handsome stranger is slowly swinging his hips on the dancefloor, right across from you on the other side of the club. He pushes the long ringlets of hair that frame his face away from his forehead, stuck on his skin from the light sweat he worked up. A devious smirk adorned his face, and his eyes were so piercing that the receiver of his stare couldn’t have been clearer.

He was definitely staring at you.

You gasp a little when you realize he’s moving towards you, quickly patting down any stray hairs to submission. You’ve always had trouble talking to men, hard to decipher even the horny, simple college boys in your major, let alone someone out of your league like that. The first thing you notice is that he’s dressed from head to toe in designer, the second being the array of piercings decorating his ears. Lastly, you make out a few smile lines on his cheeks and the corners of his eyes. Not that the stranger seemed more than a decade older than you.

“How come I’ve never seen you around here before?”

“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough”, you answer him with the most nonchalant tone you could manage, playing with a loose thread on your skirt to stay sane.

His stare strips you bare as he moves it from the top of your head down to your heels, his tongue running through his bottom lip so fast you almost miss it.

“No”, he disagrees with a shake of his head, “I would remember”.

You try to shake off the heat on your face from the concealed compliment with a sip of your drink, realizing you’ve emptied it when the straw makes a jarring sound against the bottom of your glass.

“I’ll get you a new one”, he offers with the most gorgeous smile you’ve ever seen in your life, “Come join my table, I’m with the DJ.”

Normally, being alone in a club full of strangers would sound like a new level of Dante’s hell to you, the thought of just excusing yourself to a night of binge-watching your favorite show fleeting momentarily. Yet there’s something about Yuta, his magnetism, his rogueness, that has you following him across the dark club to sit next to his equally handsome and expensive-looking friends.

The music doesn’t allow for very lengthy introductions, its loudness giving an excuse to Yuta to stick close to your side. He tells you he works as a computer engineer for some big company, whose name you don’t hear and don’t really care for. What you do care for is the woodiness of his cologne, and how cool his rings feel against your back. You care for the way he has you shoved against the DJ table, how he latches his lips on your neck, trailing kisses down your raging pulse. How he whispers in your ear that he never does that usually but you’ve driven him crazy and he wants you now. The hardness against your thigh proving that all too well.

The drive to his place is all hands and sloppy kisses and fingers toying with the hem of your underwear. He tells his personal driver to roll up the partition of his fancy car and you feel like the main actress of an adventure film for a second. Naively, you let yourself get carried away by him, forcing your intrusive thoughts to the back of your head. It’s not like you to go home with a stranger. It’s not like you to fuck on the same night you met. But being like you hasn’t been doing much for you anyway.

His lips are on you again the moment he closes the front door of his penthouse. Your fingers tangle through his long hair as you kiss, whimpering when he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth. Tugging at his locks, you admire his pretty face once more, almost jealous at how much your lipstick suits him. Lithe fingers find their way under your skirt once more, the pad of his thumb swiping over your clothed clit. He groans at your wetness and you mewl at the touch, creating a symphony of moans.

Getting impatient now, you let him roll your underwear past your thighs, and you kick them off along with your heels. Stumbling your way across, you reach a large couch in the middle of the big living room, unceremoniously falling on his lap, your naked pussy rubbing against his leather pants. A big palm brushes along your breasts, passing your navel and reaching your heat. The slow circles he draws over your folds make everything surrounding you spin.

“So wet for me already”, he comments, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your left boob. His middle finger pushes through your entrance, dragging against your fluttering walls, and you bite your cheek to hide how long it’s been since you last had someone else inside you. Busying your fingers with the buttons of his shirt, focusing on the task not to cum embarrassingly fast, you only come across a sight that makes you ever wetter, if that was even possible. Yuta’s toned stomach, paired with a pretty butterfly tattoo and a surprising piercing decorating his navel.

“Take a picture, it will last longer”, he jokes, and you grind your hips to wipe that teasing smirk off his face. It works, with the friction sparking a new fire in his lower abdomen.

He removes your top so swiftly you think he must have ripped it, your bra joining the garment on his floor a second later. His hands travel all around the expanse of your naked torso, tracing your ribs and following the curve of your waist, to then squeeze both of your boobs. The dull haziness from the alcohol in your bloodstream doesn’t allow you to get embarrassed at how exposed you are in front of him now, too busy trying to unbutton his pants to get what you really want.

The strong hands that pin your wrists on the sides of your thighs startle you.

“Eager, aren’t you?”

“Yeah”, you sigh, leaning forwards in your containment until your lips find the lines that separate his abs, your tongue tasting his salty skin. Eyes never leaving his, eyelashes fluttering seductively. You feel a growl resonating from deep in his chest, his fingers loosening from around your wrists as he gets distracted.

Unzipping his pants finally, you let your warm palm apply pressure over his length. Fully hard now, you feel him twitching in your hold.

“Look what you did to me”, he tells you, emphasizing his words with a thrust. You stare entranced as he takes his dick out finally, red tip begging for attention.

“I’ll make it worse.”

Licking the inside of your palm, you rub the soft skin over the head of his cock, dragging your index over his slit. The profanities he spews out urge you to repeat the motion, and the control you have over him is intoxicating.

Well, for as long as you have it, that is.

With a swift motion, he reaches out to grab your jaw, careful so as not to hurt you. Not a single word came out of his mouth yet you got his message loud and clear, removing your hands from his sensitive cock and patiently waiting for his next move.

Reaching out for his back pocket, he fishes out a - conveniently easily accessible - condom, wrapping it around himself with ease. You’re still sitting in place on his thighs, unmoved, partially out of spite and partially because you want him to tell you exactly what he wants.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t you gonna sit on it?”

“Only if you say the magic word.”

Yuta chuckles at your nerve, pulling you down for a kiss. His tongue dances over your lips, chasing your taste, and he doesn’t back away even as he whispers:

“Can I fuck you open with my hands around your neck, pretty please?”

You can only moan at the question, shivering as you feel him wrap his fingers around your neck. You let him lead your body upwards and hover over his cock, gasping loudly as you let your wetness and gravity do the rest.

“Ah, fuck”, he groans as he bottoms out inside you, your walls sucking him in. The fit is tight, so you circle around his base to get accustomed to the length, rubbing your clit in the movement.

A long moan gets drawn out of you as he starts to bounce you on his lap, realizing how much you’ve missed the feeling of being so, so full. Your brain is fuzzy from the pleasure, breathing heavily through the pain in your thighs.

“So pretty. Getting fucked with just your skirt on.”

“More like I fuck you with my skirt on”, you snap back, your voice trying to be stable through the pressure on your throat. “You’re not really doing much.”

“Oh?”, he asks incredulously, withdrawing his hands from your body and intertwining his fingers behind his head. “You want me to do something?”

“I want you to fuck me open like you said you would.”

“As you wish.”

You’re not sure when he managed to flip you around like that, your stomach now laying against the cool leather of his couch. He has you trapped under his weight, your thighs closed and between his own. You can’t really see him, only feel the weight of his member as he lays it over your skirt.

You can’t contain the high-pitched yelp that escapes you when he thrusts inside you again.

“Yuta- Fuck.”

“Hm?”, he asks you to repeat, collecting your hair around his fist in a makeshift ponytail. He reaches down, laying over you, his cheek touching your wet one. “What is it?”

“It’s so much.”

“You were begging for it just a second ago”, he reminds you, his sweet voice contradicting the brutal snap of his hips. “You don’t like it?”

“I do”, you admit, your voice muffled by the couch’s cushion. Unsatisfied with your enunciation, he pulls at your ponytail lightly, separating your lips from the leather.

“Speak up.”

“I said I like it, don’t stop! Please-”

You wanted to warn him of your impending orgasm, yet your tightening muscles already do that all too well. It takes a few more thrusts before you feel yourself cumming around him, stars of pleasure overtaking your vision. You look so pretty all gone, shaking from under him, that Yuta spills in the condom mere seconds later. The few last movements of his hips almost send you to the floor.

His elbows keep him from collapsing on top of you, kissing the salty skin of your shoulders until his heart beats steadily again. He scurries off to the kitchen, discarding the used condom, before fetching you a clean towel from his bedroom. The light sweat he has worked up intensifies his perfume even more, and you melt against the scent as he pulls you onto his lap again.

Yuta’s hands find their way between the locks of your hair, gently massaging your nape. A long sigh leaves your lips and the man chuckles, flashing you his big smile once again.

“Satisfied?”

“Very”, you answer truthfully, ending your one-word response with a yawn. “Yuta?”

“Yes, love?”

“Can I stay over tonight?”

You were too tired to hear the hesitance in his voice, too blissed out from your orgasm to notice him taking a second too long to answer.

“Of course. How about I treat you to lunch tomorrow? I know we didn’t get to talk a lot.”

You giggle at the insinuation, wrapping your hands around his shoulders in adoration. For your first ‘sleeping with a stranger’, this was going very well. There was something disarming about Yuta, even beyond the deep pull of sexual attraction. Something that left you no choice but to trust him.

Your eyelids futilely fight to stay open, your sleepiness getting the best of you. You barely manage to respond to him before letting your subconscious mind take over.

“I’d love that.”

You have no idea what time it is when you finally wake up.

Your brain barely registers the change in environment through the pounding headache, cursing at the abundance of light the large windows let inside the strange bedroom. Scattered memories of last night flash like a film strip in your head, each sending an electric wave of pain. The last thing you remember is collapsing on top of a half-naked Yuta after fucking on his leather couch.

Curiously, you check what clothing is still left on you under the velvet sheets, finding your upper body covered with a t-shirt you’ve never seen before. With a sigh of relief, you find your phone on the bedside table, along with a painkiller and last night's outfit.

“This place looks fancy”, you think to yourself, and wonder where the hell your date has been all this time. A pang of hunger has you thinking of what kind of lunch you should let your (richer than you thought) date treat you with, excited to have him follow up on his promise. That’s when you notice a ripped white page, folded neatly on his side of the bed.

It looks like it came from a notebook provided by the company he works for, with a “Suh Enterprises” logo printed on the very top. No phone number, no lunch plan, no second date. The messily scribbled note makes your heart fall to your stomach.

“Housekeeping will let you out.”

The low buzzing between your legs makes you shift your weight to Yuta for support, your fingers intertwined as you walk past the array of paintings.

The art aficionado has wanted to take you on this exhibition since its opening day, since you shyly called him in your office for an annoying bug in your computer. The CTO had no business doing IT support for new employees and you knew damn well, as well as you knew that, the little problem that you caused for your machine yourself after a quick “how to” googling, did not take 45 minutes to fix. You had a feeling the short dress you had chosen that day had something to do with it.

You weren’t surprised that he introduced himself to you all over again, years later.

He doesn’t even remember that girl he slept with at the club. Nor do I resemble her at all.

That was the plan, after all. Wasn’t it? Your hair was different, and so was your clothing. But most importantly, the way you acted was unrecognizable. The sweetness with which you looked up at the eager engineer, a mix of innocence and admiration dripping from your pupils, had nothing to do with the faux confidence you exuded on your first meet. Now you know that a rogue and a rogue can never coexist. And you’ll do whatever it takes to fit him just right.

He remembers when he drove you to your place after the first date you had together, how he couldn’t stop staring ar your lips. How good it felt when he pushed his fingers between them and your tongue swirled around him. Cock throbbing in his underwear after you told him with teary eyes that “you weren’t that experienced but you wanted to try things out with him”.

He fucked you thoroughly into your mattress that night, blood pumping to his cock even now as he recalls how you looked with your makeup all smeared-up. Yuta was well aware of his talent in the bedroom, he wasn’t surprised that he made you cum on his face, around his rings, on his sex. What did surprise him was that he held you tightly that night, not because you asked but because he wanted to. That he stared at you sleeping peacefully that morning, waited patiently for you to wake up. He begged you to spend the entire day with him, to let him treat you to breakfast, then lunch, then dinner, then drinks.

Your meetups went on for weeks. Yuta didn’t like to be gossiped so he asked you to keep your relationship on the low, and you had to pretend to think about it before agreeing. You slowly saw him give up on trying to conceal his feelings, the little gifts he offered you giving him away. A matching ring, your favorite candy, that book you couldn’t put down at the bookstore.

The last gift he gave you, however, wasn’t as wholesome as the rest. In fact, it was currently buzzing inside you.

You squeeze your thighs to alleviate some of the pulsing, tripping a little after your date presses a button on the remote control in his pocket.

“Isn’t this painting beautiful?”, he asks and you can hear the smirk on his face, squeezing his available palm.

“Mmm.”

That’s all you can muster as you feel your vision getting cloudy from pleasure, your orgasm being edged out of your reach by the little silicon bullet at least a dozen times now. Squirming in silence as you walk through the hallways, trying your hardest not to attract attention. You were now getting to the end of the exhibition, and you ask Yuta if he can accompany you to the ladies room; you don’t feel that well.

As if the universe was working in your favor, you find the bathroom to be empty, quickly hurrying your boyfriend inside before locking the small room.

He has you pinned against the door almost immediately, and you hump your lower body against his, desperately searching for your high. Big doe eyes stare back at him, pleading.

“You’ve been a good girl, right doll?”

Nodding furiously, you whimper in the hollow of his neck.

“Yes!”

His hand moves slowly up your thighs, gripping the soft flesh, to finally dip two fingers underneath your underwear. Your head falls back as you finally get what you want, each circle that his digits draw feeling more delicious than the last.

“And you know what good girls get?”

You beg whatever God is out there that the answer is something close to an orgasm, blinking away a few tears from your unfocused eyes. As he picks up his pace, you grab onto his shirt so as not to crumble, the vibrations with the teasing of your clit proving too much.

Wetness drips down your thigh as you finally cum, your moans getting drowned in the kiss you share. Another aftershock hits you only a moment later, as he continues to rub your pussy, and you swear you can’t possibly leave this restroom standing.

“Good girls get used.”

Letting yourself get led by him, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror, over the sink. Your wrists hurt as he fucks your brains out under the fluorescent light, witnessing your face contort into the lewdest of expressions.

His lips on the shell of your ear, his hands on your love handles. Your moans turning the mirror glass foggy. These are the last things you remember before cumming for him for the third time.

For you, sex with him felt like a little treat before you get your big win, still a long way to go.

For Yuta? He might even be falling in love.

The pair were just finishing up their food, focusing on all kinds of different topics but the elephant in the room. Mark rested his chopsticks on the side of his plate, wiping the corners of his mouth as they tugged up in a smile. Yuta was waiting for his comment expectantly.

“So, are you gonna tell me who that woman that has turned your life upside down is?”

The younger man wasn’t a stranger to the CTO’s office, their unexpected friendship growing stronger and stronger over the years. Yuta’s urge to tease the uptight HR manager at every given chance brought the two of them closer, even if they seemed to lead entirely different lives. Mark was some kind of moral anchor to Yuta, and the former felt normal as ever compared to his friend’s chaotic habits.

“Is it that obvious?”

“You always had a nice smile, Nakamoto, but now it looks like someone sewed it to your face.”

Yuta let his head drop forward, defeated. “Have you ever fallen in love, Mark?”

The younger swallows dryly, nodding his head absentmindedly. To much of his surprise, the first woman that came to mind wasn’t his ex-wife.

“Yes.”

“It’s not like me to act this way, you know? To think about someone constantly, to be anxious when they’re gone, to be worried about them.”

“I never thought I’d hear those words coming out of your mouth.”

“Me neither”, Yuta acknowledges, downing the last sip of his beer, “It started off with just sex but now… I’m not like you, Mark. I fear no God, nor devil- but when I’m in her presence I’m ready to tremble like a child, to be vulnerable. She could make me go through the eye of a needle. Throw myself into the fire.”

“It’s dangerous to love a woman that much”, Mark muses, much more to himself than to his friend. They were both deeply engrossed in their thoughts when the knock on the door made them jump in their seats.

“Come in.”

Your eyes widen instinctively as you open the door. In mute disbelief, you stare at the bizarre pair sitting on each side of Yuta’s desk. The dirty food containers and empty beer cans puzzle you even more. They had lunch together?! What on earth could those two possibly talk about? If Yuta had an alter ego that would certainly be Mark: a rogue that has exhausted his carnality, and a prude that agonizingly lets it consume him. Then again, Yuta did have an attraction to innocence. You wonder if he’d be as affined to Mark if he knew his true self. You also wonder how much he’d recoil at yours.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Nakamoto?”, you ask naturally, your acting skills a little too good.

“Ah, yes Doll, we were just finishing up here.”

Mark got up from his seat slowly, fixing his eyes on anything but you. He didn’t trust his acting skills enough to convince his closest friend, so completely ignoring your existence seemed like the next best thing. Only when he passed by you did you see a crack in the mask; hands twitching awkwardly in his side, begging for a touch.

Did he have a weird pang in his stomach when he saw you enter Yuta’s office? Did it remind him of his wife and his old best friend for some weird reason? You wondered, but you couldn’t know. With a shaken breath out and a nod of goodbye he exits the office, and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

Before Yuta crashes his lips on yours.

You take a few steps backward from the momentum of the kiss, placing your palm on the side of his face a second later. Your lower back finds the edge of the desk and you let your body rest against it, moaning softly as he deepens the kiss. His lips press against yours harder, with hunger, yet your other hand lightly pushes him away from you, to much of his disappointment.

“Yuta?”

“Yes, love?”

“I feel really bad for asking-“, you start, filling up your lungs with fresh air before resuming, “but I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

With a shy smile you back away from his embrace, sitting where Mark was just a few moments ago. The man follows your lead, sitting across from you, the wrinkles between his eyebrows telling of his nerves.

“I need you to find me a new apartment to live in.”

Yuta laughs nervously from the dissipation of his anxiety, maybe disregarding your clouded expression a bit too much.

“That’s it? Honey, I’ve told you countless times that you can stay at my place for as long as you-“

“It’s not it-“, you cut him off, and the tone of your voice wipes out the smile off his face just as quickly as it had appeared. “I’m moving. From out of town. Across the country, really.”

Raising the heels of his palms to his eyes, he tries to rub away the whiplash.

“Doll, what?”, Yuta snaps back, finally realizing the weight of the situation. “Why would you do that?”

“Because they’re firing me!”, you respond, exasperated, voice cracking from the emotion, “I’m looking for other jobs and that one company gave me a really good offer and…”

The man stays silent, shoulders vibrating angrily.

“I’m not sure that they’re firing me”, you explain quickly, “As in, they haven’t explicitly told me they will but I just know it, baby, I know it! I’ve had to train this intern and my numbers have not been good because of it… Even Doyoung came to my office and told me off about it… I don’t want to move out, I don’t wanna leave you! But you know that I need this money, baby…”

Yuta nods his head slowly, his lips forming a straight line.

“No, you’re not.”

“I wish things were different too, but-“

“They can.”

You tilt your head in question.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“Come here”, he tells you with a paradoxical calmness, and motions at you to sit on his lap.

Tentatively, you oblige, hoping he doesn’t get any surprise visitors, and let him play with your hair as he talks.

“First of all, you have to promise me you aren’t going to talk about this to anybody.”

“Baby, what is it? Don’t you trust me?”

“Completely. But what I’m about to tell you, you can’t share with anybody else here. Got it?”

You simply nod, giving your most honest look.

“I have access to everybody’s performance numbers in this office”, he whispers, “And I know how to edit them without anyone finding out.”

“Are you suggesting-?”

“I know what I’m saying scares you. But if I can pump up your numbers a little, just enough to get you to stay, I will, Doll.” He takes your hand in his carefully, as if you were made out of porcelain, and places a kiss on the back of your palm. “I need you here. No one is even going to notice. And if they do, I can just blame the system. Please.”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, rubbing your forehead for good measure. After letting out a sigh of defeat, you flash him a bittersweet smile.

“Okay. But only if you promise me you don’t get in trouble.”

“I won’t”, he reassures you, not sure how much it is to his power to fulfill that promise. As he pulls you in for a long hug, he hopes you don’t notice him patting away a few tears that have collected on the corners of his eyes. “As long as I don’t lose you.”

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byeolhyesisi · 1 year

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BLUE'S COFFEE; HAN JISUNG

bestfriend!han jisung x reader

coffee and nicknames for the blue-haired boy who didn't bring an umbrella during a rainy day.

genre: fluff, non-idol au, short fic, oneshot, slight indication of best friends to lovers

warnings: may have small errors :(( but other than that, it's all good !!

words: 1k+ (exactly 1,050)

tags: @angel-hyuckie @joker0705 @bbjisungg @spectracully @mmarrie @jwoos-colored @deysii @trashlord-007 @jeonqquk @gimbappae @yellowsbuttercup @je4nsv @whatsa-bi-as

dedicated to: @jakes-tummy !! tysm for answering questions that definitely helped me write this fic >< i tried my best to create an atmosphere based on your answers and i hope that somehow, you can feel that this is really for you !! <3

a/n: this is my entry for the exchange event by @kflixnet !! this event was so fun^^ i was really happy i was able to write again <3 also, i don't know why i went with a y2k-esque graphic but i thought it was fun ><

Pitter-patter pitter-patter… the repetitive sound of rainfall echoed throughout the silent atmosphere of your room. As if the droplets were loud footsteps on wherever they land.

The weather was bad, but the sun still managed to shine brightly as if it was a clear day. It was sort of irregular to see such contrasting scenery. Kind of ironic, but it was something worth gazing at for a few moments out of curiosity and slight bewilderment. The combination of heavy rain and a bright blue sky is somewhat soothing. As you look outside your apartment's window, you spotted a familiar face waiting to cross the street with a jacket over his head. His blue locks were eye-catching. It stood out from the crowd, mainly because he was the only person without an umbrella in hand if you ignore his vivid hair. He was the odd one out in the midst of the crowd.

The blue-haired boy was none other than your bestest friend, Han Jisung.

You shook your head while chuckling. Of course he doesn't have an umbrella. Knowing him, he probably forgot or his stubborn self simply didn't take the weather reports seriously, fooled by the bright day. It was usual for him to experience both of those anyway. It definitely wasn't the first time Jisung put himself in situations that could've been easily avoided if he wasn't forgetful or stubborn.

You watched as he immediately crossed the street, running inside the apartment building to seek shelter at once. You could already hear his complaints before you even welcome him inside. A quiet hum resonated from your lips. I should probably make coffee for that dumbass. Smiling to yourself, you chuckled softly as you made your way to the kitchen.

It didn't take long for three knocks to resonate from your door. You stopped stirring your friend's coffee and started walking towards the door before halting. He's most likey drenched in rain… You assumed. "Just a minute." You called out. "Alright. Just hurry, please. It's cold out here!" Jisung's voice answered back in a soft tone, the pout on his lips was evident in his voice. You rushed inside your room, opening one of your drawers to fetch an extra towel.

Once you finally opened the front door of your apartment, the sight of Jisung made you stifle a laugh. "You look like a wet chick." The boy rolled his eyes. "Haha. Thanks." He replied sarcastically. "Don't be salty now. Why didn't you bring an umbrella anyway?" You questioned as you handed the towel. Jisung quickly patted and made sure he was less soaked in rain water before entering your humble abode. "It was so sunny! It's not my fault I was scammed by the weather. Besides, weather reports are inaccurate sometimes. Hmpf." He complained, his statement confirming one of your guesses. "Even if it's sunny, you should still bring an umbrella. Too much sunlight is bad too, you know?" You remarked and Jisung only huffed in response.

"You're really lucky I want to hang out with you." He mumbled but it was loud enough for you to hear. "And you're lucky I care for you." You looked at Jisung with an eyebrow raised. "I made you coffee. Drink it before it gets cold. That should warm you up." You smiled.

The boy perked up. You made me coffee… He couldn't help but to grin softly, a pang of flutters struck his stomach. "Your smile is already warm enough." He joked cheesily. The room was suddenly filled by the harmony of your laughter. The laughter masked something the two of you were hiding in the wholesome scenario. Both mutual but kept secret under the rain and the sun's rays. "That won't work on me." You said. If your heart could speak it would oppose your words. If Jisung wasn't oblivious, the flushed rosy color on your cheeks would be easily noticed by his eyes. If you were paying very close attention, you'd know he didn't mean it as a joke.

The two of you sat down on the couch of your living room when the boy finally took his cup of coffee. Jisung took a sip and he exhaled a very dramatic sigh as if he was in a commercial. It was the perfect amount of bittersweet; a cup of coffee only you can make for him. "You know me too well." He smiled cheekily. "You won't shut up about yourself—" Laughter filled the room once again.

The room fell silent, with the occasional sound of Jisung sipping his coffee and accidentally choking from time to time. "Stop drinking it like a vacuum cleaner." You told him while giggling. "First, I was a wet chick. Now I'm a vacuum cleaner?" He chuckled, placing the now empty cup on the coffee table. Jisung was used to the nicknames you give him. You loved giving him random nicknames, even if they were the most unconventional ones. And he loved them too. "To be fair, you still look like a wet chick."

"So you think I look cute? Chicks are cute, right?" Jisung batted his eyes. "No." He scoffed playfully at your short reply.

"Can you make me another cup of coffee?" The boy pleaded with puppy eyes. How can you say no to those eyes?

"Alright, blue's clues. Wait here." You responded as you stood up.

"BLUE'S CLUES?! NOW I'M BLUE'S CLUES?!" He placed a hand on his chest, acting offended as a joke. "Not my fault you dyed your hair blue." You stuck your tongue out before heading back to the kitchen with his cup in hand.

"If I'm blue's clues, then you should be magenta!" He suggested. You shook your head, he really is like a child sometimes. "Ok, blue. I'll be your magenta." You said as you poured hot water into his cup.

As soon as you left, the blue-haired boy kicked his feet giddily. Covering his face with the towel, he couldn't contain his wide smile anymore. Jisung decided to follow you to the kitchen. Even when he entered, his grin never left his lips.

A simple friendly banter with childish conditions, but we all know there's more to that, right? One thing is certain though. If he's blue's clues to you, then he is just for you.

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