#Like how could I top what I already put my all into
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tags: park sunghoon x fem!reader, established relationship, size kink, strength kink, bulge kink, d/s dynamics, dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (plz don’t), breeding kink, creampie, dirty talk, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink?, nicknames (baby, princess, angel, hoonie, etc), slight fluff, lowkey pwp, reader is described to be shorter than hoon and is easy to pick up/throw around, reader is also very down bad for him (aren’t we all), etc
wc: 2.67k
add. notes: hoon won the poll i put out so i present to u my first ever enha work :3 thank u very much to everyone who voted n this will def not be the last enha fic i put out so do not worry there is much to come for hyung line!!! also icon creds to @/v4mpjay :3
. . .
sunghoon doesn’t know how much longer he can take this.
it all started when he began going to the gym regularly, slowly bulking his figure up and feeling himself grow out in his clothes. what used to be his lanky frame that greeted him in the mirror gradually turned into a built man with lean muscles and sharper features, adding to what was already there initially. it wasn’t like this wasn’t what he wanted though, albeit the entire reason why he even started working out in the first place being to improve his health and build better habits for himself, but the outcome wasn’t too bad in itself. he got used to feeling stronger, more lighter on his feet or less out of breath when he climbed the stairs, and it was enjoyable to know that he could lift twice his weight and still feel good as new. in some way, things felt like they were going swell.
that is, until you came into the picture.
now, sunghoon’s always known that you’re small compared to him. even when standing side by side, his height next to yours is a little laughable, though he supposes you’re used to that considering you’ve always been shorter than most of your peers. he’s well aware of how you have to go on your tippy-toes when you guys kiss, and the soft feel of your little hands in his is something that spins in his mind constantly when your fingers lace together. it doesn’t help that you always ask him to fetch your favourite mug from the top cabinet too, his larger physique towering over yours each time he leans over from behind you. he likes to tease you about it, revelling in the way you pout cutely back at him whenever he makes fun of you jokingly despite the small smile playing at your lips, but little do you know about the twisted fantasies breaching his thoughts every moment you spend together. he wonders if you would be disgusted? would you dump him and tell all your friends about what a creepy loser he was? sunghoon can’t help but imagine the worst case scenario, and it would be easy to bury these emotions down the hatchet had it not been for the fact that he’s started to think he is going mad too.
every time sunghoon comes home from the gym, every time he enters your shared apartment, sweat dripping down his forehead and his water-bottle empty, he swears on his dead grandmother that you start checking him out. it doesn’t help that he's always been attentive either, always needlessly easy at picking up the cues of your discomfort when you're outside in a social space for too long, or being able to tell instantly when you're anything other than the happy go lucky girlfriend he usually sees you as. so, when your lingering gaze begins to trail across his arms a little too long whenever he passes your shared bedroom on his way to the shower, or when your mouth opens and closes to swallow before you're pressing your thighs together subtly each time he moves to wipe himself down each time he’s home— it all sparks something in him. it told him to finally, finally indulge in the nasty thoughts he’s kept tucked away to himself once and for all.
except he doesn’t. because at the end of the day, sunghoon is a gentleman. he pulls open the doors for you with nonchalance written all over him despite his burning ears, and he brings you back your memorised coffee order alongside a few sweet treats when he knows you’re on your period. he holds you close when you’re asleep in bed together, rubbing a gentle thumb against the skin of your cheek because he’s aware that’s what it takes for you to fall asleep, and makes sure you know he’s always going to be there for you in any time of need, even if he’s a thousand miles away. he’s never once made you doubt him, never once given you any reason to suspect he could be anything beyond the perfect, storybook written boyfriend he’s always been.
until today, at least.
it was a day like any other, a day where you wouldn’t have expected things to take the turn they took at all. you and sunghoon were tangled up in your lavender sheets with your leg thrown over his, the morning sun streaming through the beige curtains you’d picked out on your ikea date together, and no alarms were intact to disturb you as it was the weekend. that’s probably why you both found yourselves in your current situation, your mouths meeting sloppily for short kisses and your boyfriend’s cock buried to the hilt inside you, thrusting ever so gently every other second as he whispered sweet praises to you between the meshing of your lips. the only sounds heard beyond the chirping of the birds outside your window were your soft moans and his low grunts, alongside the quiet noises of your slick dragging against his dick.
“fuck, baby. you feel so good.” sunghoon mumbles, pressing gentle smooches along the skin of your chin and jaw. you reply back something unintelligible, too lost in the euphoria he’s providing you to even form a coherent answer, which only makes him chuckle. he pulls back to admire your figure underneath him, a smile spreading across his lip at the sight of you laid out oh so pretty and pliant just for him. for him. all for his use. his use and his use only. the eventual thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and sunghoon momentarily slows down his movements in fear he’ll accidentally lose control of himself and fuck you into the sheets. his loss of momentum causes you to whine out loud though, large doe eyes blinking up at him in wonder, almost as if asking what happened, which does not make your boyfriend’s job any easier.
“hoonie, faster.” you beg softly, one hand coming up to grip his shoulder as the other bundles up the duvet underneath you. “please, wan’ it so bad.” sunghoon feels like his resolve is on the brink of snapping at your words, and he quickly resumes his previous pace (albeit still slower than what you wanted but better nonetheless) with gritted teeth, trying to think of something, anything that would distract him from the realisation of how fucking small you look under him, or how soft your hand feels resting on his skin. it doesn’t help that the sounds spewing from your lips are so cute, only spurring him on further to do what he longs to.
“yeah, angel? want it faster? want hoonie to fuck you deeper?” he groans out instead, biting his lip at the sight of you nodding almost instantly to his words. your hole clenches even tighter around him as he speaks to you, and he shudders at the sensation. “shit, don’t do that, princess. might cum too quickly.” he exhales shakily, confused when you shake your head. “don’t care. cum f’me. wanna feel it, please.” you plead almost instantly without thinking, sunghoon’s eyes darkening as the request leaves your mouth. his pace comes to an immediate halt after that, and you make a noise of complaint at the loss of pleasure in your lower region, legs kicking up slightly in protest as you eye your boyfriend who’s currently trying to compose himself above you.
“don’t.. don’t say stuff like that.” sunghoon sighs, eyes closed shut as you cock your head to the side. you’re about to ask him why when he speaks up again. “i won’t be able to hold myself back if you do.” he professes darkly, opening his orbs back up to look deep into yours, his smouldering gaze making you shiver. you involuntary tighten around him at his confession, and he hisses at the feeling, head snapping to look down at you and the blush spreading across your cheeks.
“i-i don’t.. don’t want you to hold back.” you mutter whilst looking away meekly before he can even comment on your actions. you meet his stare again after a beat of silence, but there’s something dark and sinister swimming in it now, and by the time you can even process what it is, he’s suddenly sheathing himself back into your warm walls, plowing into you with a heightened pace as if this is the last time he’ll ever get to fuck you. your moans tumble out of your mouth before you can even stop them, and you swear you hear sunghoon growl at the way you keen from his movements.
“yeah? don’t want me to hold back? want me to absolutely destroy this wet cunt with my cock? ruin it for everybody else and mould it to the shape of my dick?” he grunts, a smirk spread across his face as you wildly nod at his words. “what, too fucked out to speak now, baby? where’s that confidence from before, hm?” you whimper at his condescending tone, the noise travelling straight to his core as he curses, continuing to plunge himself deep into you. the tip of his cock brushes against that spongey spot inside you, and you cry out when he angles his thrusts to hit it each time he drives inside your pussy.
“who knew you were such a slut, huh baby? tell me, how long have you wanted me to spread you open and fuck you like i hated you?” sunghoon pants, tongue lolling out to lick at the sweat gathering on your neck. “s-so long, hoonie!” you mewl in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bites down on your skin. “wanted you to— hnng, wanted you to bend me over and throw me around so bad!” sunghoon laughs breathlessly at your answer.
“yeah, pretty? want me to use my big arms and toss you onto the bed? you should’ve told me sooner that you were such a whore.” you clench at the degrading name, and sunghoon almost stumbles into you at the sudden jolt of shock. “would’ve done everything you wanted me to. wanted it just as bad as you, did ya know that?” he grits out, pace unrelenting and unforgiving as he proceeds to pound into you. “you’re so fucking small, baby. makes me so goddamn hard every time i think about it. just want to, oh fuck— want to hold you down and make you take it.”
“do it! do it, hoonie, please do it! make me take it, i wan’ take it for you.” you sob, and sunghoon physically feels the last of his self restrain break in half. he’s far too fucked out now to go back to his old ways, far too gone in the dizziness of making you feel good. his only goal now is to make you cum violently around him, and he’ll stop at nothing to achieve that. “gonna do it, baby. just wait, gonna fuck you so dumb, you’ll be begging me to stop.” he pauses momentarily to grab at the plush of your thigh and tosses your leg over his shoulder, resuming his past actions in the blink of an eye as you cry out at the change. he hits deeper, more harsh this way, and you swear you can feel him battering your cervix with each thrust delivered to your abused cunt.
“fuck, look at that.” sunghoon laughs in disbelief, his eyes fixed on the slightly evident bulge of his cock thrusting in and out of you in your stomach. “taking my cock so well, princess. you gonna cum for me soon, yeah? gonna cum for hoonie and make a mess of me?” he coos at the way you’re drooling, swiping a thumb up to wipe at the spit leaking out of your mouth before sucking it off, the visual of it only making you whine even more. by now, the bed is stained with your leaking arousal, but neither of you care, especially not when he involuntarily moves his hand to press down on your stomach. his movements only cause you to double over in pleasure, and before either of you know it, you’re shaking through an orgasm, thrashing and wailing as tears stream down your face.
“shit, shit, shit! that’s so hot, oh fuck.” sunghoon moans. “you did so well, angel. did so fucking good for me, you deserve a reward, don’t you? don’t you, my baby?” he rambles, and you whine in overstimulation as his thrusts grow more frantic and misplaced when he begins chasing his own release. “get ready, princess, ‘m gonna fill you up. gonna breed you so, so good and make you take it, yeah? you’ll take it, won’t you? take it so good for me like you always do.” by this point, you’re both trembling and whining out loud, sunghoon pistoning his hips into you as he desperately fixes to cum. he can feel the pressure building up, his balls tightening with each harsh thrust he delivers inside of you, and you’re more than ready to feel him ooze out of you, encouraging words spilling from your lips.
“do it, hoonie! do it, please! make me full and fuck it back into me. i’ll take it so good, so good, please baby, please.” you’re babbling by now, too fucked out to think let alone speak, but your words seem to send sunghoon over the edge because by the time you’re even halfway through your sentence, he’s shooting ropes inside of you, painting your walls white with his seed. there’s so much of it that it almost leaks out despite his cock keeping you plugged up, and you watch his beautiful face contort in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and eyes clenched shut as he continues filling you up.
“fuck..” sunghoon sighs out once he’s come down from his high, looking down to grip his cock and pull it out slightly only to push it back in when your cunt gushes with his release, causing him to bite his lip at the sinful sight. you whine when he moves back into you, his large arms caging your smaller frame in as he leans down to pepper salty kisses all over your face. “my good girl.” he whispers, slightly collapsing on top of you to catch his breath. his weight on you feels comforting, almost natural as you wrap your tired arms around his back tightly, pressing your bodies together even more than they already are to feel closer and connected to him.
“i didn’t know you were into that.” sunghoon speaks up after a moment of silence, causing you to open your eyes and look at him. he moves so he’s laying on his side, cock still keeping you plugged up despite the awkward position. “into what?” he deadpans at your reaction, and you giggle. “c’mon, babe. you can’t seriously look like that and expect me to not be feral for you.” you smile, and sunghoon huffs out a laugh, spooning an arm around you as he pulls your body closer to his warm one. “still, who knew my girl was so freaky?” you swat at him, and his chest rumbles with laughter, the sound sending an odd pool of warmth flowing through your chest. you both lay there in silence after that, basking in each other’s presence and enjoying the serenity and afterglow which comes from what was quite literally the best sex of your lives.
“i love you.” you hear sunghoon mumble suddenly, his voice drowsy as he yawns cutely, a large grin spreading on your face at the simple three words which leave him. you reach out for his hand, lacing your small fingers in it before bringing it up to your mouth and pressing a kiss to the back. “love you more, hoonie.” you sigh out in satisfaction, eyes slipping shut slowly as sleep welcomes your tired senses.
you gradually drift off, thoughts filled with sweet dreams of your boyfriend and his precious laughter.
. . .
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3
#✰ sunny's oneshots!#park sunghoon#sunghoon smut#park sunghoon smut#park sunghoon x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enha smut#sunghoon
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Translated Transcript for those who need it below! Fellow bilingual Germans, feel free to correct or improve my wording. Especially where I have a put a (?) I am not sure if this is the correct wording.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
I have just requested the federal president to dismiss the federal minister of finance. [...] At noon, I once again presented the coalition partner from the FDP a comprehensive offer, with which we could close the gap in the federal budget without letting our country descend into chaos. An offer, to strengthen Germany in difficult times. An offer, that also picks up suggestions by the FDP. [...] However, once again I have to realize: The Federal Minister of Finance is not showing any willingness to implement this proposal in the federal government for the well-being of our country. I no longer want to expect our country to tolerate (?) this sort of behavior.
Dear fellow citizens, I would have preferred to spare you from this difficult decision. Especially in times like these, in which uncertainty is rising. [...] Someone who, in such circumstances, rejects a solution, a proposal of a compromise, they are acting irresponsibly. [...] Too often were the necessary compromises drowned out with publicly orchestrated arguments and loud ideological demands. Too often has federal minister Lindner blocked bills unrelatedly. Too often has he maneuvered narrow-minded and party-political. Too often has he broken my trust.
Even the agreement on the budget(?) he canceled one-sidedly, after we had already reached an agreement in long negotiations. There is no base of trust to continue working together. Thusly serious government work is not possible.
Someone who joins a government should act seriously and responsibly. They are not allowed to disappear into the bushes, when it gets difficult. They should be prepared to compromise in the interest of all citizens. Yet at the moment this is not Christian Lindners goal. He is focused on his own clientele. He is focused on the short-term surviving of his own political party. Especially today, one day after an important event like the election in America is such egoism completely incomprehensible. [...] Never ever should we let inner, outer and social security play against each other. That endangers our cohesion. In the long run that endangers our democracy.
Why am I saying this? Federal minister Lindner has ultimately and publicly requested a fundamentally different politics. Billions worth of tax cuts for a few top earners and at the same time pension cuts for all pensioners. That is not decent, that is not fair. Tax favors with the watering can(?) and as counter-financing a reach into the pockets of our cities and communes. Opting out of investments in the climate-friendly modernization of our country: That is also what Christian Lindner wants. This fuels uncertainty into our economy. And it squanders our chance to be near the front of future technologies. The USA, China and others aren't sleeping.
In a roundabout way Christian Lindner speaks of the lifting of efficiency reserves in our social insurance system.
However, behind this hides severe cuts in health and care, and less security when someone gets into distress.
That is disrespectful towards everyone who have worked hard for this security, towards everyone who pay tax and social contributions. [...]
How do we now proceed? Federal minister Lindner will be dismissed by the federal president. [...]
@legoyuri cause I saw you requested a translation
inject it into my bloodstream
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TRY AGAIN — JJH
PAIRING: jaehyun x female reader SUMMARY: if you could have it your way, you'd never have to see, hear, or even think about jeong jaehyun ever again. a fortuitous blind date, and that same dimpled smile after all those years, is somehow enough to make you reconsider. maybe he was always meant to be by your side. GENRE: exes to lovers! au, slight coworkers! au, romance, angst, slow burn, humour, some pining, a touch of smut WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, too many descriptions of coffee and wine, mentions of sex, general mature content and themes, reader is not good at talking about her feelings, joy x doyoung, i try to write about the complexity of relationships and personal growth (i fail miserably) WORD COUNT: 32.4k NOTE: oh. my god. it's finally here! there's certainly something different about writing for your ult. office scenes inspired by the internship i did at a big 4 firm that ended up rejecting everyone from my department (yes i'm still bitter). i actually wanted to get this out back in august to celebrate jolo but alas, Life. i guess this is a parting gift? (jaehyun i am nothing and nobody without you.) i poured a lot of heart into this fic and posting it feels like letting my child go out into the world alone... be safe my darling xx
You should’ve brought an umbrella.
The early evening sky was darkening faster than usual, ominous grey clouds hovering between the skyscrapers like an unspoken but imminent threat. Though the ground was still dry, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be for long. Your haste to leave your apartment this morning had robbed you of the good sense to check the weather forecast, mind too preoccupied with tonight’s agenda to spare a thought for the possible torrential downpour that summer seemed to be so fond of.
A glance down at your feet sent a twinge of annoyance through you. Of course you picked the black pumps to wear today. They were pretty, which was why you had slipped them on in the first place, wanting to make a good impression even if you told yourself you didn’t really care that much, but they were also expensive, and you did not want to get them wet. You said a silent prayer. Hopefully the impending rain would be kind to the leather.
“You better not be flaking,” Joy warned, voice crackling through your phone speaker. “I don’t really care what he thinks of you for not showing up, but it’ll reflect badly on me, and I can’t have that.”
You suppressed a smile. Ever the drama queen.
“I am literally walking out of the station right now. The Italian place, right?” you asked, pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs to gather your surroundings. The restaurant she had picked out wasn’t exactly an unknown location to you, but it had been a while since you last visited, and the buildings seemed to look back at you with a dazed unfamiliarity.
She gave an affirmative hum. “Two streets down from the exit. The reservation is under my name, but I think he might be there already.”
“Yippee. How exciting.”
There was a loud sigh from the other end of the line, and you could almost hear her rolling her eyes at you. “You do know I set this up with your best interests at heart, right?”
“Are you sure it’s not because you were bored and needed to use some poor soul for your own entertainment?”
“Hey, I’m not the one who put three packets of salt in Jungwoo’s coffee,” she fired back.
Okay, maybe that one was on you. But it had been pretty funny seeing him spit it out all over the office kitchen counter and then meticulously clean up the mess with paper towels, all the while eyeing everyone on your floor with suspicion.
“I’m just saying,” she continued, “give him a chance. I think you guys could really like each other.” There was a pause. “Plus, he’s super fucking hot. Like if I wasn’t happily taken I would be climbing him like a tree.”
“Gross. I’m filing a complaint with HR.”
“Reporting me to my own department? I’ll make sure that file never even makes it through the portal,” she cackled at your empty threat, and you joined in with her. “Seriously though, just give him a chance. At least stay until the mains come out.”
“Fine,” you acquiesced, though you made sure she heard the huff that accompanied it. “But if he starts talking about cryptocurrency I am leaving.”
Joy only laughed, assuring you he probably wouldn’t, and bid you goodbye with a parting command for you to enjoy yourself.
On days like these, you couldn’t decide whether you were grateful or unlucky to have been placed on a team with her for your first project at the company. Technically speaking, Joy was your senior by almost two years, but even at that first daily stand-up half a year ago, filled with nervous smiles and clumsy introductions, you had the feeling the two of you would gel. By the time that first project wrapped up, the two of you had long progressed past mere co-workers, having bonded over 8-hour days of Powerpoint formatting and your mutual dislike of olives. You had never been more thankful for someone so vivacious to show you the ropes, and help you settle into the new environment with such ease.
However, Joy was a meddler.
Her meddling was what had you currently navigating the crumbly asphalt in your nicest shoes to meet the apparent hunk she had set you up with. You didn’t know much about the guy since she refused to give you his name, afraid you’d search him up on social media and then make up some excuse to back out once you had seen his face — like you had done with the previous two that she’d picked out for you.
Apparently, this one was from the Digital department, and had been at the company for a little over a year. Those were two out of the three pieces of information that she had deigned to bestow upon you, the third being that he had dimples, which she thought you’d appreciate.
Oh, and now the fourth one being that he was ‘super fucking hot’.
Who knew? Maybe you would enjoy yourself. Getting back into the dating scene was pretty low on your priorities, with your career and trying to stick to a consistent gym routine taking up the majority of your time, but you were never opposed to a bit of fun.
Maybe Mr Super-Fucking-Hot could be a bit of fun.
Just take it easy, you thought to yourself, spotting the glass windows of the restaurant as you rounded the corner. Il Giardino, read the sign that hung above the door. Cute.
Hastily, you shifted your bag and cardigan to the other arm and smoothed out the creases in your black trousers. You had tried for something a little dressy, but also office-appropriate since you were coming straight from work, and not like you had tried too hard and spent an unnecessary number of hours thinking about what to wear on this stupid blind date. Another quick glance at your reflection in the window, just to make sure there was no food or lipstick in your teeth, and you pushed past the door.
Soft jazz filtered through your ears as you stepped inside. The restaurant was nicely decorated, a few vintage Italian posters hanging on the exposed brick walls, and an overall rustic feel that paired well with the warm, earthy ambience. Judging by the patrons already seated, this place was a popular date night location, with all but one table occupied by couples sharing soft touches and flirty smiles over half-filled glasses of red wine.
Joy certainly knew how to pick a spot.
You gave the smiling hostess Joy’s name for the reservation, managing a weak smile of your own when she informed you that the other half of your party had already arrived, and followed her through the tables further into the restaurant. Outside, the first few raindrops had begun to splatter against the asphalt, slowly darkening the road with wet patches that were sure to grow into puddles. It seemed you had arrived just in time to escape the rain.
The hostess stopped at a more private table towards the back, and gestured towards the empty seat with that same welcoming smile. Mystery man, aka Mr Super-Fucking-Hot, was sat with his back to you, leafing through what you assumed to be the drinks menu. His silhouette from behind was alright-looking, you supposed, if you really had to put a label to it, but there was something vaguely familiar about the shape of his head. Perhaps you had crossed paths in the office lobby before?
You approached the table, trying to sneak a peek of him out of the corner of your eye, just to see if he lived up to Joy’s oh-so-generous description, without being so painfully obvious—
And froze.
“Is everything alright?” the hostess asked, still beaming at you.
You barely heard her through the cotton wool that seemed to suddenly fill your ears, hands instantly clamming up as you took in the man in front of you. His warm eyes widened a fraction of a millimetre with recognition, quickly followed by something else you couldn’t place.
This was not happening.
“Is everything okay?” the hostess tried again. The corners of her mouth were beginning to slip, and she cast you a mildly concerned glance.
How strange you must have looked, standing stock-still beside your reserved table like a statue. The only things that could dispel the notion you had suddenly turned into stone were the light flush to your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your own heart that you were sure the whole restaurant could hear.
“Everything’s fine, just give us a minute please,” Jaehyun finally said, flashing the hostess a kind smile. She took her cue to leave, but not without another curious look between the two of you, hurriedly brushing away the waiter who was approaching the table and preparing to rattle off the specials.
Hearing his voice seemed to break the spell that had rendered you so immobile. You straightened, shifting your bag higher up your shoulder, and turned to leave. Whatever this was, you were not entertaining it.
Chair legs screeched abruptly against the floor.
“Wait,” he pleaded.
Your eyes landed on his hand latched around your wrist first, before they moved to his face again. Slowly, his fingers loosened, but he kept you in his hold.
“Will you sit, please?” he asked softly.
You looked at him. Really looked at him, taking in his full, straight brows, the slope of his nose, the pinkness of his lips. His cheeks had slimmed since you had last seen him, allowing the sharpness of his jaw to really come through. Breathtakingly handsome as he always had been. A little older, a little more masculine, and yet somehow still the same.
And maybe because you still saw him, the boy that you loved, the first and likely only boy you had ever truly loved, you did sit, sliding into your chair like it was made of ice.
“It’s been a while,” he began, lowering back into his seat. You gave no indication that you had heard him at all, eyes focused on the flickering tealight candle at the centre of the table. The wax was a pinkish red colour, and the light scent coming from it was sweet, with a touch of tartness. Pomegranate, maybe. At your silence, he cleared his throat and tried again. “How have you—”
“Did you plan this?”
He pulled back a bit, as if in genuine shock. “No, I swear, I had no idea it was you. Joy only told me it was someone from her department, and that you were pretty, and she thought you’d be my type.” A pause. “Did you?”
Your reply was icy. “Why would I plan to see you?”
He looked away at that, sucking in a breath through his teeth. You were probably mistaken, but something akin to hurt flashed in those eyes as he gave a short nod at your words. Likely a trick of the light. It was a little too dim in here. What reason would he have to be hurt? Why would he be bleeding when you were the one with cuts all over your hands from picking up the glass shards of your own broken heart?
An uncomfortable beat passed. “Well, I’d say it was nice to see you, but you know I’m not good at lying,” you said. Shouldn’t have sat down in the first place.
Grabbing your bag and cardigan, you made to stand up again, regretting your decision to come here, regretting giving in to Joy so easily, regretting leaving the house this morning without a stupid fucking umbrella. The drizzle outside had turned into a downpour in no time, and the street drains were definitely going to clog up tonight.
Seoul and its fucking summer monsoon season.
“Can we just—please, can you—fuck. Can we have dinner and just talk? As friends?” His hand shot out across the table, as if itching to grab yours again, but thought better of it, letting his fingertips rest against the edges of the linen napkin you hadn’t even bothered to unfold.
A refraction of light from his sleeve caught your eye. His cufflinks. He was wearing the cufflinks you had gotten him for your high school graduation all those years ago.
They had been expensive. Four months of pay from your part-time job at the ice-cream parlour was just enough for the pale pearls set in sterling silver. You supposed it would have been silly of him to throw them away when they were so valuable. It wasn’t like you had thrown away the gold pendant he had given you either. That necklace hadn’t hung around your neck for a long time, but it still sat somewhere in the depths of your jewellery box, underneath all the newer ones you had bought for yourself or received from friends over the years.
“Fine,” you found yourself saying. “Sure. As friends. Why not?”
Sinking back into your seat, you reached for the wine menu immediately. Enduring the next hour in the company of your ex-boyfriend without a drink? Unbearable. As much as you liked to convince yourself you were over him, from your behaviour tonight it was clear you most certainly were not, and only alcohol could soothe that blow to your pride.
Your eyes flitted down the page of reds, then the whites, then the sparklings. Christ, the prices in this place were not pretty. Joy would have to be in a completely separate tax bracket from you if these were the kinds of establishments she frequented.
For a brief moment, you thought about ordering the most expensive bottle on the list — a Penfold’s 2018 Shiraz — just to be spiteful, but decided against it. If you were really going to be sharing a meal ‘as friends��, he would not be footing the entire bill. You wouldn’t let him.
The waiter, under the impression that things had somewhat cooled down, finally approached your table, albeit a bit cautiously. Hearing but not really listening, you let him sing praises about the wild mushroom ravioli, ordering it just to save yourself the effort of reading through the rest of the menu. When he reached the beverages portion of his spiel, you settled for a more reasonable bottle, a 2021 merlot.
It was only once he had left to put your orders in that you realised that you had not even checked if Jaehyun was driving tonight.
“I’ll pay for the wine, if you’re not drinking,” you said, fiddling with your napkin. You could probably finish the whole bottle yourself anyway. Maybe that would make it easier to look him in the eye.
“You really don’t need to do that,” he replied, voice soft but firm. The weight of his eyes on you was almost a tangible thing. “I’ll have a glass.”
Your waiter returned, making a show of uncorking the bottle before pouring it out into both your glasses. You couldn’t down the first one fast enough, draining half the contents in one long mouthful like it was your first taste of water after finishing a marathon. Jaehyun was more deliberate with his glass, taking only a few small sips before he set it down on the table again. If he noticed the speed at which you emptied yours, which it was pretty hard not to with the way you were gulping the wine down, he said nothing.
God, this was fucking awkward.
“So,” he began, trying to mask the crack of his voice with a cough, “what made you agree to this thing?”
You reached for the bottle. “Felt like I owed it to Joy,” you said, pouring yourself another glass. “I flaked out of the last two she organised.”
Maybe you should have just gone on that first one with Taehyung, or Taehyun, or whatever his name was. Then you could have avoided this situation altogether.
“So you do this kind of thing a lot, then?” came his careful question.
You were curt. “No.”
He blinked a few times, the movements slow with confusion at the abruptness of your answer. You knew you were being difficult. You wanted to be. Five years could heal most things, but unspoken words could linger like splinters under your fingernails, festering below the surface. Calluses had hardened over the splinters of your breakup, tough and protective, but now it was as if they were pushing through to the surface again, your fingers newly tender at the sight of him after all those years.
A small part of you wanted to give him a taste of your hurt, wanted him to feel the prick of tiny wood chips in the flesh behind his nail beds. The larger part, however, knew malice would do no good for you. You had survived the pain. There was no reason to survive poison as well.
“No, I don’t,” you tried again, a little softer, a little less jagged around the edges. “I think she just likes to set them up for fun. This is my first time on one of these blind uh…” The word date sat heavy on the tip of your tongue but refused to budge. “One of these things.” Maybe another mouthful of wine would wash it down.
“Her definition of fun can be rather interesting,” he said, politely filling the silence.
You hummed in agreement, raising the freshly filled wine glass to your mouth again as you scrambled around in your head for something, anything to say. It had been a while since you had last been out on the dating scene, and you were well aware of it, but good grief, it was like your conversational skills had evaporated into thin air.
“How do you know Joy?” was what you decided on after a deliberately slow sip.
Thankfully, Jaehyun seemed to still know how to carry a conversation. “She’s one of the HR reps for Digital, so we’ve spoken a few times before. And her boyfriend is a friend from university.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “Have you met him?”
You shook your head lightly. “No, not yet. Hoping to, soon.”
“You’ll like him. Doyoung’s a great guy. Patience of a saint.”
“He’d have to be to keep up with her,” you said, hints of a chuckle sprinkled in your voice.
Something about the fact that he was already privy to more of Joy’s personal life than you were had a sliver of jealousy wriggling in your stomach. She was supposed to be your friend, and yet you knew very little about Doyoung besides his name, while your ex-boyfriend across from you had been buddy-buddy with him for probably years and years. Not that it was a competition to see who held more information about their coworker outside the office, but the feeling that you were somewhat losing didn’t sit well.
“It’s actually my first time on a blind date as well,” he said, allowing himself a tentative smile. “You know how convincing she can be. I mean, I don’t think I’d ever go on one if she hadn’t roped me in. It feels a bit silly meeting up with a complete stranger, you know?” He turned his smile to you, still tentative but coloured with a tinge of hopefulness, like he wanted you to understand, like he knew you would.
How could you not? There had once been a time where you believed that you and Jaehyun had been two halves of the same soul, carved into existence from the same stone. There had once been a time where you knew him almost better than he knew himself.
A time rather distant from now.
You kept your answer non-committal. “Sure,” you murmured, wishing his pretty face wouldn’t fall so quickly at your nonchalance, wishing you hadn’t caught the slightest droop to the curve of his mouth. Everything about him was still too familiar. “I’m just a bit surprised to hear that, I guess. You were so desperate to meet new people back then.”
Three seconds passed in silence.
His eyes dropped to his lap, as did yours to your own. This previously reasonable bottle of merlot was loosening your lips rather unreasonably.
“Sorry, that was—” Unnecessary? Mean?
True?
“I didn’t mean to say that,” you finally managed, the words spilling out of your mouth in a tumbled rush.
Or maybe you had.
Jaehyun could only flash you a weak smile. “It’s fine,” he said, though you both knew it wasn’t really.
Frigidity returned to the air between you, stopped just short of freezing over by the reappearance of your waiter, along with a plate of goat’s cheese arancini. Jaehyun politely gestured for you to eat first, watching as you speared the crusty surface with your fork and moved it over to your own plate. For a few seconds, the only noises that could be heard from the table were the clinks and clanks of stainless steel utensils against ceramic plates. The arancini could not have come at a better time, affording both of you the opportunity to hide behind the guise of eating, and put off the need to make strained conversation, even if the time it bought you was fleeting.
Meet new people. Those were the exact words he had said to you all those years ago. Han River on a Tuesday night, cherry blossom petals fluttering through the balmy April air, the iciness of winter finally melting away into a distant memory to reveal fresh green carpets and vivid blooms — few things could have been more romantic. Spring is the season of love, they said.
But for you, spring was the season of loss. It was the season when love ended, when love could be taken back and snatched away in the blink of an eye. On a Tuesday night in April, you learned that your love was not just not enough, but that it was a burden, an obstacle between Jaehyun and living his life to the fullest. That time spent with you was time squandered. That you were robbing him of the complete university experience, and to an extent, his youth.
Jaehyun had always been a wanter. He wanted boldly and he wanted freely, never dwelling too long on how his wanting could appear in the eyes of others, never shy about his desires. When he was ten years old, he wanted a dog, despite the reddening of his nose and the watering of his eyes whenever he’d get within arm’s distance of the bichon frisé. In tenth grade, he wanted you, with cans of peach soda and sweet little notes in your locker until you finally said yes to being his girlfriend after three days of public pursuit.
(You had arguably wanted him more, and for longer, though nobody had been none the wiser — you were rather good at hiding your feelings.)
Two months into your first year at university, his wants changed. He wanted more space and more freedom to meet new people. He wanted to be able to attend club social outings, and get to know his seniors, and play drinking games with his new roommates, instead of trekking to the other side of Seoul every week to see you, his girlfriend, who had now become his obligation.
It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed a shift in his behaviour in the months leading up to that fateful night. Smiles had become a little wearier. Texts had become sparser. You had chalked it up to the challenges of settling into the new routine and rigorous coursework, and the distance between your schools that occupied opposite sides of the city. Sure, the hour-long subway ride from his campus to yours wasn’t the greatest asset to your relationship, but 18-year-old you had remained optimistic it would endure whatever curveballs your first year of university and the beginnings of real adulthood would throw at you.
You had survived the CSAT together and emerged in one piece. What else could be harder than that?
“You’re right though,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on his own piece of fried goat’s cheese. “I guess I was.”
You let your fork drop with a soft clang. “Let’s not, uh—we don’t have to talk about that.” Pink petals were swimming at the edges of your vision.
Please, let’s not talk about that.
A flicker of something behind his eyes could almost convince you he wanted exactly the opposite of your unspoken plea. Maybe this was a conversation he didn’t actually want to avoid the way you so desperately did.
And maybe he would have said something too, if not for the waiter who returned at that precise moment.
“The mushroom ravioli,” the waiter announced, setting the plate down in front of you, “and the amatriciana spaghetti. Enjoy.”
Four pieces of pasta covered in sage butter looked back up at you.
You made a mental note to never order ravioli at an Italian restaurant ever again.
The sound of scraping utensils returned to your table, lightly blanketing the stilted pause in conversation with idle noise. Without much enthusiasm, you sliced at one of the four pieces of your ravioli, throwing what you hoped were sneaky glances at the full plate of spaghetti sitting in an appetising red sauce laid out before your ex-boyfriend.
“Do you want to try mine?”
Sneakiness had never been your forte.
Your polite refusal came quickly, even if it was rather weak to your own ears, but Jaehyun was already twirling a portion out onto the share plate the waiter had kindly provided a few minutes earlier. He made sure to scoop some sauce and pancetta bits on top as well, before gently pushing the plate towards you.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, though you made no move to dig in.
Everything wasn’t supposed to feel this familiar. You weren’t supposed to soften so easily at the sight of his dimpled smile. You weren’t supposed to feel that strange tug in your chest at his thoughtfulness, at the way he could still pick up the slightest change in your expression. And maybe the bar was too low, and here you were fawning over nothing more than the bare minimum, because what guy would see his date enviously looking at his food instead of her own and blatantly ignore it?
But with Jaehyun, it was different. You knew it was. Within every action, there was familiarity and practice, there was thought and care, there were years of history that were unerasable, even with the passage of time. You weren’t the same wide-eyed teenagers now as you had been then, and yet scenes from the rest of that excruciating first semester flickered in your mind.
A silent breakdown during a business administration lecture. Your roommate’s concerned expression when you decided to skip dinner again.
The tug in your chest was leading you back into dangerous territory.
For the third time tonight, you debated grabbing your things and walking straight out. You had only promised Joy that you would stay until the mains came out. If you were going to leave now, technically, you would still have fulfilled your end of the promise. Arguably, this wasn’t the best time to make an exit — fifteen minutes earlier would have been much better so that the kitchen would have time to cancel your stupid ravioli before they started preparing it. Leaving now wouldn’t be the most optimal, but it was still an option. A tad heavy on the dramatics, but you could live with that. You’d just never be able to step foot in this establishment again.
A shame. The spaghetti looked good. You’d have to search up if this place did delivery.
“You can go if you really want to, I won’t hold it against you,” Jaehyun said quietly. His eyes were fixed on the fork he was twirling through his dish. You supposed you should’ve been surprised at the way he could read your mind without even looking at you, but you couldn’t find the energy in you to pretend.
“But,” he continued at your silence, “if you’re willing to stay, I’d really like it if we could just catch up?” At this, he finally met your eyes and offered a small smile. “It has been a while, after all.”
Maybe it was the sincerity contained in those soft brown eyes. Maybe it was because you really did want to try the amatriciana spaghetti while it was hot and fresh off the stove. Whatever it was, you found yourself resolving to stay, despite all the reasons not to, despite the sound of them loud and clear in your head, ready at your disposal. Allowing yourself to indulge in nostalgia once in a while couldn’t be that bad for you. Right?
So you stayed. And you ate (his spicy amatriciana scored a landslide victory over your mushroom ravioli). And you talked. As two friends would do, catching each other up on the things that had shaped your lives since you had gone on your separate ways.
Conversation was clunky at first, that was to be expected. Even the closest of friendships would encounter some choppy waters when reconnecting for the first time after five years. But conversation with Jaehyun gave way to smooth sailing much quicker than you would have expected. He still wore the face of the boy who would sneak an extra serving of fried sweet potato from the cafeteria because he knew you liked them, but he wasn’t quite the same. Older, certainly. Maturity wasn’t something that went hand-in-hand with age like you had thought when you were younger, but he was more mature too. Surer of himself, and his place in the world.
You heard of the summer he spent in the UK after graduation, visiting his uncle and their family, appreciating classical architecture and the leisure inherent to rolling green hills that he hadn’t been able to find in the metropolis he had grown up in. (The food, however, was an entirely different story. He had never been so overjoyed to see a bowl of rice that wasn’t covered in mushy peas or sitting in a puddle of questionable-looking curry.)
He learned of your semester exchange in Amsterdam, including the unfortunate incident involving you, a runaway bicycle, and the freezing water of the Dutch canals. Fortunately, a nasty cold and two weeks in bed over the Christmas break were the worst things that came of it. Those few months had been eye-opening, to say the least. Stepping outside of your own bubble had made you realise how much more there was to the world, and how little you knew of it.
Yes, Jaehyun had changed, but then again so had you. The realisation dawned halfway through dessert, slowly settling over you as you spooned at the tiramisu in the centre of the table. Perhaps it hadn’t been fair to him that you had been harbouring this seed of antagonism towards him for all these years. He, so afflicted by youth, as you both had been back then, was only doing what he thought was right and necessary. Could you really fault him for that? You had seen enough of life now to know that sometimes, nobody was to blame.
There was a comfortable lull in the conversation before he spoke again. The sound of his voice drew you away from the window, where you could see that the rain had slowed from the earlier dramatic downpour to a lighter shower.
“I know I probably wasn’t who you were expecting today,” he said, a little hesitant and gauging your expression.
“You definitely were not.” You gave him an amused half-smile over the rim of your barely-filled glass, which he returned. The bottle of merlot sat tall and empty on the table.
“I just wanted to say,” he began, taking in a breath, “I’m glad it was you. It was really nice to see you again. And I’m sorry if you were disappointed that it was me.”
There was something sad in the curve of his mouth, you thought. It tempered the warmth in his eyes.
“I’m not disappointed,” you heard yourself say. “Really.”
It was the truth. You knew he could see it written across your face. Dishonesty and insincere flattery were not familiar weapons you wielded. He knew that. He knew you.
Jaehyun sat back, bringing his own glass to his lips and draining the lingering contents. Perhaps to hide the private smile that broke out across his handsome face, which you pretended not to see, turning your attention back to the raindrops pattering against the window.
The evening air was cool on your bare arms when you stepped out, taking shelter under the awning in front of the restaurant. You weren’t the only one who had forgone a weather app consultation today. Jaehyun stood beside you, hands tucked neatly in the pockets of his slacks, a not unwelcome companion while you waited for your taxi to arrive. He’d call one later, after he made sure you had gotten in the car and were on the way home.
“I guess I’ll see you around?” he asked, tone light.
You cast a sidelong glance at him. His profile was backlit by the warm light emanating from inside the restaurant, carving out the straight bridge of his nose, a soft shadow cupping the fullness of his bottom lip. Would there ever be a time the sight of him wouldn’t take your breath away?
“Maybe,” you breathed. Letting him back into your life wasn’t a decision you felt ready to make yet, and you had no intention of promising him anything you couldn’t be sure you’d be able to deliver. Even if you would only be promising him friendship.
He didn’t push it further and hummed in understanding. Then your taxi was pulling up in front of the restaurant, the splash from the tyres just missing the hem of your trousers, and you were bidding him goodbye, staring a second too long at the dimples that appeared, and trying not to step in a pothole puddle as you clambered rather ungracefully into the car.
But because realisation was never punctual, it was only when you arrived home, carefully kicking off the black pumps and patting them dry with a microfibre cloth, that you realised two things.
First, you had left your cardigan at the Italian restaurant.
And second, Jaehyun had footed the whole bill.
There was a reason the seventh floor was your favourite floor in the building.
It wasn’t because of the little in-office cafe with the cute but ridiculously overpriced pastries that tasted even better than they looked, or the deceptively comfortable bean bag chairs by the far window that would always tempt you with a mid-afternoon nap every time you sank into one of them.
No. The seventh floor was your favourite because it had a Nespresso machine. Free use. Company-funded.
A seventh floor coffee was one of the only things that could get you to leave the comfort of your desk and willingly walk up two flights of stairs. (The elevators always took too long.) On Monday afternoons like these, after an entire morning swimming through attendance and sick leave reports from the last quarter, the promise of a smooth and velvety cappuccino felt like your only hope for humanity. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like everybody else had the same idea, if the line in front of the coffee machine was anything to judge by.
“You should have told me!”
You gave Joy an incredulous look. “Right. Because I definitely knew exactly who he was.”
“Well, you could have worked it out. You’re a smart girl.”
“You said a total of three sentences about him.”
She paused, fixing you with a contemplative stare. Her eyebrows were doing that weird lifting thing when she was running something through her head. “Five sentences,” she finally managed, tapping around the rim of her empty mug.
Why she came up with you at all when she wasn’t a coffee person, would probably take two sips of the espresso, and then complain it was too bitter, was beyond you. Sometimes you wondered if she was really that good at her job, or if her workload was just so non-existent that she could take five coffee breaks a day. It couldn’t be the latter, because you had seen that her calendar was full for the entire morning.
“Let’s not spend the next fifteen minutes talking about last Friday,” you sighed, already pushing thoughts of dimpled smiles and warm eyes to the far corner of your mind. Hopefully not to be revisited for a while. “I want my head outrageously blank while I enjoy this cappuccino. Swear to god Junmyeon is trying to drown me with those leave reports.”
“You know he only assigns them to you because you’ve never told him you hate doing it.”
“He assigns them to me because I’m the only one available who can get it done properly. You’re always blocked out, and Jungwoo has that weekly coaching session. Jisung tried to help me do it this morning, and he didn’t even separate paid from unpaid leave. The numbers looked like we were bleeding PTO.”
She gave you a sly smile. “You know you can block yourself out too,” she said off-handedly.
“You can what?”
This was new information.
“You’re telling me someone else could be sifting through that 70-page file if I just schedule in a random meeting with myself?” you asked again, to which she nodded.
“Has yet to fail me. But make sure you name it something that makes sense, and don’t do it all the time, otherwise it’ll look suspicious.”
Corporate bullshitting was a fine art, and you were beginning to realise you were still but a novice at it.
“And lay off the intern,” she added. “He’s just a child.” “He’s taller than Junmyeon.”
“A child in spirit, then. You know what I mean. He sort of reminds me of a cute little mouse,” she mused, trailing off. If her apartment complex didn’t have a pet ban, you had a feeling she would be taking in every stray animal off the street.
However, she was right. Jisung had been a bigger help than you had expected of a second-year commerce student. Even if it was just skimming through a finished presentation pack to fix up any typos and align text boxes, you couldn’t deny that having an extra pair of eyes and hands had made your life a little bit easier. Maybe you would even miss him once his summer placement came to an end and the semester rolled back around. As long as there weren’t too many more incidents like the one from this morning.
Speaking of this morning…
“Hey, does that mean you’ve been making yourself unavailable so you don’t have to read the—”
“Oh look! The line’s getting shorter. You should move up before someone cuts in.”
You shuffled forward, but not without throwing her a displeased look along with a grumble or two. Next time the quarterly attendance analysis rolled around, you were definitely making use of the trick she had just told you about. A quick glance up ahead. There were now three people in front of you in the line, but only one green capsule left on the rack.
Please, caffeine gods be willing, let that last one be yours.
“I can’t believe I told you that I thought your ex-boyfriend was super fucking hot. I feel so icky, like I’ve betrayed you somehow,” Joy said, making a face. The dimpled smile fought its way back into your consciousness, and you suppressed the twist in your stomach that seemed to accompany every recollection of it.
“It’s honestly fine. There’s no way you could have known.” You shrugged, partly to reassure her it wasn’t a big deal, and partly to shake off that funny feeling in the pit of your stomach.
The better part of your weekend had been spent trying to make sense of the night, after battling a merlot-induced migraine for most of Saturday morning and early afternoon. Three glasses had been a necessity to get through dinner, but it was ultimately overkill. You were no longer the girl from two years ago who took advantage of her afternoon class the next day by destroying a few soju bottles with your roommates. On a weeknight, too.
Joy gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Still, I’m sorry I put you through that. Hopefully it wasn’t completely awful?”
Completely awful, it was not. Awful at some parts? Maybe.
Truthfully, you hadn’t been prepared to see Jaehyun again. Not to say that you had never thought about it — you definitely had, running simulations through your head about how you would run into him on the street, ignore his greeting and walk past him like he didn’t even exist. But those were the musings of a heart-broken teenager, turning to spite and cheap endeavours at revenge to cope with the loss of her first love. Last Friday did have spite rearing its ugly head, but that spite was short-lived, and only one aspect that made up the whirlwind of emotions that came with seeing him again after all those years.
“No, it wasn’t all bad,” you were about to say, when your eye was suddenly caught by a movement up ahead.
A slender, veiny hand reached out to grab the last green pod from the coffee rack. You watched as the thief’s fingers closed around the capsule and slotted it into the machine. He pressed the lever down — because of course, it was a man. Not only was he on the better side of the gender wage gap, but he also had to be ahead of you in the caffeine race as well.
The sound of the capsule being punctured was the final blow.
“My coffee,” you lamented under your breath.
“Have some patience,” Joy chided. “We’re nearly there. You’re like a zombie when you don’t have your little cup of bean juice.”
You shook your head glumly. “The last Peruvian. I waited for so long. It was supposed to be mine, and he took it.”
“Who did?”
“The guy at the front.”
Your eyes were still glued on the hand as it wrapped around the mug filled with your favourite blend, completely unaware that it had just robbed you of the only small pocket of joy you had been looking forward to all afternoon. Peering around the two people still ahead, your gaze travelled up his exposed forearm and the sleeve of the white dress shirt cuffed there. If only you could catch a glimpse of the face that had stomped all over your hopes and dreams…
The lady in front of you shuffled closer to the coffee machine and finally cleared your line of sight. Coffee stealer’s ear came into view before his face did, and he was—
“Jaehyun?”
His name fell out of Joy’s mouth before you could even get your own to start working again and beg her not to call out to him. For a moment you were afraid you had conjured him out of thin air from the uninvited thoughts of him circling the outskirts of your mind. At least now you knew he wasn’t a hallucination.
Jaehyun’s eyebrows pinched in confusion first, then surprise, before finally smoothing over with recognition. He offered a small wave, eyes flitting from Joy over to you, and then he was walking over, and you were fighting for your life trying to mask the panic that was bubbling away inside your chest.
You shot Joy a frantic look. Why did you do that?
I don’t know! Sorry, said her returning one. The corners of her mouth were turned down in an apologetic frown, but she quickly schooled it into a smile at Jaehyun’s approach.
“I’ve never seen you on seven before,” Joy said, the spitting image of friendliness, nevermind that you were beside her and desperately looking for an exit out of the incoming conversation. “You’re always holed up somewhere on ten.”
You supposed you should have known this would happen sooner or later. Six months without running into each other when you worked at the same company, in the same building, was the exception, not the rule. You were just grateful Joy didn’t try to bring up her clever little dinner setup that had been plaguing you the entire weekend, or try and rope the two of you into awkward and unnecessary introductions.
“Someone told me I should come down and try the Nespresso machine. Apparently it’s really good,” he said, gesturing at the mug you had been staring at for the past three minutes.
“It is,” were the first two words you managed. Both pairs of eyes shifted towards you, waiting for the rest of your comment to come, but you could only disappoint, the syllables hanging thick and dumb in the air.
There appeared to be some sort of blockage in your mouth-to-brain pipeline.
Joy cleared her throat lightly, throwing you a sideways glance. “Which one did you try? They all taste the same to me, but she only drinks the green ones,” she said, ignoring the panicked twitch of your mouth. She knew full well that he was the one you’d been staring daggers into ever since he grabbed that stupid capsule. Your stupid capsule.
Jaehyun’s eyes flicked between your face and the steaming drink in his hand a few times.
“Do you want mine? I think I might have taken the last green one.” He offered the mug to you. “I didn’t really know what to press, so it’s just a cappuccino. Regular milk. I haven’t had any yet.”
“It’s fine, you should have yours. I’ll get another one,” you politely declined. No matter how much you liked the Peruvian blend, it was not worth the charity from your ex-boyfriend. Even if it was the only thing that could get you through the rest of the afternoon. Even if he was holding the exact thing that you had been planning on getting.
Hopefully the kitchen staff would restock those capsules by tomorrow.
The look he gave you was not a convinced one, but he didn’t push further. With your dismissal of his offer, the three of you lapsed into a sticky silence. Even Joy, who was so adept at making topics of conversation out of nothing, had little to add, passing up the challenge of pulling meaningful sentences out of your mouth. The stifling tension between you and Jaehyun must have been more powerful than you thought.
“Shoot, I think I’m getting a Teams call,” Joy suddenly said, making a show of pulling her phone out and tapping the screen.
Liar. She didn’t even have the app notifications turned on.
“I should probably take this, but I’ll see the both of you later.” She flashed a contrite smile, and then she was off, almost speed-walking her way down the stairs you had come up together, all the while pressing her phone to her ear with a little too much urgency for a mid-afternoon cold call. By the look on Jaehyun’s face, he hadn’t been all that impressed by her impromptu theatrics either.
“Are you still in the line?”
“Sorry, yes,” you muttered at the woman behind you. Clearly, you were not the only one impatient for their caffeine fix.
Finally, you were at the counter. You stared blankly at the rack of capsules. The empty space where the green ones were usually stored was glaringly obvious, jumping out at you while you skimmed through the other blends for a passable alternative. After many more seconds than would have been necessary to pick one flavour out of the remaining three, your fingers closed around a gold one. It would have to do for today.
Jaehyun watched as you dropped the capsule into its slot and made your selections. Why he was still here with you was somewhat of a mystery. You would’ve thought that Joy’s hasty exit would have prompted him to do the same, saving the both of you from having to make bumbling small talk about the weather, or the weekend, or whatever else that two people working at the same company, with no other relational history, could talk about to fill in the silence.
Maybe he wanted to talk about the dinner bill. The fact that he had settled it, without you even noticing, had been weighing on your mind. It was less of a money thing — though you were pretty sure the total hadn’t been a modest number — than a pride thing. Being indebted to others always left a smear on your conscience.
Being indebted to your ex-boyfriend was like someone had shit all over it.
Whatever. If he didn’t bring it up first, you would. This was the 21st century. You were both financially independent adults. Splitting the bill on a first date didn’t have to be such a contentious thing.
Although technically, it was far from your first. And it wasn’t a date either, because you had refused to label it as such in your head.
The last few drops of milk and espresso trickled into the mug, before the machine stopped whirring altogether. You knew he was still there. You could feel his presence behind you. He had probably been waiting for the noise to stop so that you’d be able to hear him speak. Taking your mug off the stand, you turned to face him.
“Your cardigan,” he said.
“Huh?”
Confusion splashed over you. You weren’t even wearing one today.
“I have your cardigan,” he amended. “From Friday. You left it inside the restaurant. One of the waiters brought it out, but you had left already, so I took it with me.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I have it now, if you want it back.”
“You do?”
“I mean, it’s at my desk. I brought it in today,” he added quickly, seeing the way you were looking about his person like you were expecting it to materialise into his hands.
You blinked a few times, trying to clear the brain fog that had decided now was the perfect time to strike. “Yes, I—thank you, um, for that. I can take it off you…?”
Had you meant to have it sound so much like a question? It seemed like your capacity for human speech was always afflicted by some sort of malfunction in his presence.
“Okay, uh, do you want to come up to my desk? I’ve got it there.”
The elevator ride up to the tenth floor was a short one. You could have taken the stairs just to get the extra steps in, but with both of you holding uncovered drinks, three flights of stairs combined with your clumsy fingers were a slip hazard just waiting to happen. Still, despite the short journey, the seconds inside the elevator seemed to drag on for much longer.
Before you could lose your nerve, you opened your mouth to crack the silence.
“Let me pay you back for dinner.”
Good. It sounded good. Firm, but not overbearing. Hell yeah, you were getting the hang of this conversation-with-your-ex-boyfriend thing.
Jaehyun seemed a bit taken aback by that, turning to you slightly with surprise woven into the crease of his brow. “You really don’t need to do that,” he said after a beat.
The elevator dinged, and he stepped out through the sliding doors before you could form a coherent response. It took a second for you to follow, the coffee inside your mug almost making a dangerous appearance all over the elevator floor as you caught up with his strides.
“Think of it as me taking care of a junior colleague. I am your senior, you know,” he said over his shoulder, a smile gracing his features at the latter part.
“Only by half a year,” you grumbled. “That doesn’t even count.” The light shake of his broad shoulders let you know he had heard your gripes over his attempts at enforcing seniority. His accompanying laugh was a soft one. You barely caught it above the noise of the tenth floor office.
The mellowed cosiness of the fifth floor HR department was hard to be found here. You were used to some chatter, with the occasional high-pitched laugh from Joy punctuating the air. On days he was feeling particularly jovial, Junmyeon could be heard humming from whichever desk he had decided to park at for the day (such was the beauty of hot-desking and hotelling). The few occasions you shared a table with him had allowed you to recognise the melody of The Beatles’ Strawberry Fields Forever — always the same song, and he hummed everything except for the words ‘strawberry fields’, which he insisted on singing, albeit softly.
Nothing about Digital was soft or cosy. Except maybe the sofa in one of the open creative spaces. The floor buzzed with activity, from the influx of incoming call ringtones to agenda-packed meetings in conference rooms. A group of people were clustered around a floor-to-ceiling whiteboard covered in diagrams that were undecipherable to you, engaged in animated conversation while pointing at various parts of the board. Some of them greeted Jaehyun as he walked past with you in tow.
“I had no idea Digital was this busy,” you mused out loud, following him as he weaved through the desks.
He chuckled lightly. “We like to talk a lot. And some of us can get a bit loud,” he said. The joking undercurrent to his voice had you thinking that the second part was said with someone in mind. “But it’s more hectic than usual. We’ve just won a really big bid and Johnny’s excited about his first time leading one of the streams.” He paused to wave and give a thumbs-up at the man standing at the very front of the whiteboard group (you assumed this was Johnny), who returned the greetings with just as much enthusiasm.
Jaehyun had always been a people person. That was one thing that would likely never change.
The two of you arrived at his desk, a quieter one next to the windows offering an almost unobstructed view of the city. He dug around his workspace, pulling out a Jo Malone gift bag.
“Ignore the bag,” he said, catching your wary expression. “I didn’t want to stuff it in my duffel with the rest of my gym stuff.”
You took it from his outstretched hand, with a quick glance to check that it was in fact your cardigan. The ribbed black fabric sat inside, folded neatly over itself.
“It got rained on quite a bit, so I washed it. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course, that’s kind of you, Jaehyun. You didn’t have to.” For a moment, you wondered if he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent. The smell of it used to cling to his school uniform, a burst of freshness you always sought during the muggy summer days.
“Thank you,” you said, giving him a grateful smile. “I thought I lost it for good.” In your mind, you had already made peace with the fact that you would probably see the thing ever again. Yet all weekend, it had been taking up space in Jaehyun’s hamper, uncertain as to when it would finally be able to reunite with your closet.
You gave him a careful look.
“Did you plan on seeing me today?” you asked.
“No. Yes. I mean—” The tips of his ears took on the faintest hint of a pink flush. “I didn’t know if I would run into you, so I’m glad I did. But otherwise, I was just going to give it to Joy and get her to pass it along to you,” he trailed off, gaze shifting sideways to the cityscape posted on the other side of the glass windows.
Neither of you had bothered with exchanging contact details after dinner, an oversight that was more deliberate than not on your part. His re-entry into your life was something you hadn’t felt quite ready for. And yet—
“Do you want my number?”
Stupid mouth. The words were out before you even registered that you had spoken. You prayed he wouldn’t pick up on the unintended suggestion of the question, though judging by the quick raise of his left eyebrow, you weren’t the only one who realised the other possible interpretations of your words.
“I mean, just in case something like this happens again. So you can contact me directly,” you added quickly. Heat slowly crept its way up to your cheeks. You hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“Sure,” he said, lips curling into a smile. “If that’s okay with you.”
Considering you were the one who had said it out loud in the first place, it would have been strange if you suddenly decided it was not okay with you.
There was some fumbling with each other’s phones, before you were typing your number to add into his contacts, and he was doing the same to yours. Would he realise yours was still the same string of digits as it had been five years ago?
“Well, I’d better get going,” you said, handing back his phone. Now was as good a time to make an easy exit as any. You had planned on gossiping with Joy in the level seven kitchen for the rest of the hour, but back to your desk appeared to be the more likely destination this afternoon. 70-page files didn’t read themselves. “Thanks for the cardigan. I’ll see you later, then?”
Jaehyun looked like he had more to say, but you were already turning around, ready to leave the hubbub of the tenth floor. Ready to leave the presence of your ex-boyfriend-turned-friend? Acquaintance? You shook your head lightly. A drink was needed to unpack that box of worms.
A call of your name had you pausing mid-step.
“Your coffee,” Jaehyun said, tapping you on the shoulder to hand you your mug.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking it from his grasp. You hadn’t even bothered to take a sip of the non-Peruvian cappuccino, the surface still untouched. It was probably cold now. Maybe you’d pass it off to Jungwoo, this time sans the salt.
“You know, if the dinner bill thing bothers you that much, you can just make it up to me later.”
You blinked at him a few times. “Make it up to you how?”
“Ah, that’s for me to decide,” he replied, a boyish glint to his smiling eyes. Both his dimples popped out, and you found yourself unable to choose which one to focus on.
Then he was moving, and you were left staring at the broad expanse of his back as he walked away. Head full of thoughts wondering what the hell kind of favour he would now hold over your head, you almost walked straight into Jungwoo as you came out of the elevator.
“Hey, I got a Nespresso from seven. You want it?” you asked, offering him the coffee you stopped yourself from spilling all over him. He eyed the mug apprehensively.
“You put salt in it again, didn’t you?”
“No? Where did you even get that from? Hang on, how do you know it was me?”
Jungwoo sucked in a breath through his teeth. “So it was you! I knew it! You know, you really are a scary woman,” he grumbled. “Who ever would have thought an evil spirit lurked behind such a kind face?”
“So that’s a no to the coffee?”
“I don’t trust you anymore, so no.”
“Suit yourself,” you shrugged, making your way back to your desk. The attendance reports stared back at you as you logged into the monitor, drawing a sigh out of you. You took a sip of the coffee.
And frowned.
You brought the mug to your mouth again. Like the first sip, the second was also lukewarm. But like the first sip, the second also tasted exactly the same as your usual Peruvian blend. Maybe there really was no difference between all the different coloured capsules, you thought, skimming through page 33 of the file.
That thing about realisation never being on time? Still true.
On the subway ride home, gripping the handle with all your might while sandwiched between two middle-aged men in stuffy suits, it dawned on you.
Jaehyun had given you his coffee instead.
“Thanks everyone for dialling in today. We’ll chat soon.”
The screen reverted back to its default background as the call ended, and you let out a sound somewhere in between a groan and a whimper. Junmyeon did not look to be faring any better, head in his hands while his elbows rested on the meeting room table.
“Can somebody please tell Jackson and the rest of the Marketing heads that Summer Fridays doesn’t mean they can just take Fridays completely off?” he groaned, the sounds escaping through the gaps in his fingers. “Our absenteeism looks like it’s at an all time high. Nayeon, you’re friendly with him, aren’t you?”
The girl pressed at her temples. “I mean, we were in the same advertising and PR club back in university, if that counts for anything. But yeah, I’ll schedule some time with him and go over it.”
“Great, thank you,” Junmyeon sighed, throwing his head back. “Alright, I’ll send around a debrief email later this afternoon. Thanks everyone for your time.”
You didn’t have to be told twice. A second later and you were out of the eighth floor Marketing meeting room, already on your way to the Nespresso machine downstairs. Another coffee at 4pm was slightly pushing it, but you needed a pick-me-up urgently to wash away the gruelling two hours spent going through company policy with Marketing.
The buzz of your phone was a momentary distraction from your mission.
It was a message from Jaehyun. Something silly in response to a text you had sent earlier in the day.
jaehyun [04:07 pm]: in dire need of a fake mango right now jaehyun [04:07 pm]: mmm fake mango milkshake
The smile that crept up onto your face was almost like a reflex in the way it couldn’t be helped.
Now that you were acquainted again, it was like you saw him everywhere. How you had managed to completely avoid each other for the last half a year or so was a fascinating mystery. Some mornings you’d run into him in the building lobby. He’d hold the elevator doors open for you, and you’d exchange pleasantries on the ride up to the fifth floor, where you’d get off and bid him goodbye, or see you later. And see him later you did. Whether it was at the seventh floor coffee machine, or in line at the cafeteria on twelve, the sight of his face had become a nice interruption to the hours spent at a monitor, or in a call like the one you had just escaped.
He would come down to the fifth floor sometimes, stopping by Joy’s desk or yours to say hello and have a chat if you weren’t busy. You found yourself wishing he would spend less time with Joy than he did with you — not because you wanted to see him more (because that was absolutely not the reason at all), but because he was steadily gaining a lead over you in the Joy friendship competition. The three of you had spent a few lunch breaks at the cafeteria together, granted that your schedules matched, with an odd appearance from Jungwoo every now and again.
You saw more of Johnny (loud) and Mark (louder), Jaehyun’s friends from Digital who you’d normally hear before you’d see them. Johnny was his “beloved coffee mate” (Jaehyun’s exact words) and possibly the only other person in the building who cared about the green Peruvian capsules as much as you did. Mark was… Mark, for lack of a better description. There was nobody the boy couldn’t strike a conversation with. If he really needed to, you suspected he could probably get along with a wet paper towel.
You had been offered an invitation to join the three of them for one of their weekly lunches outside the company building. Johnny was more than happy to let you know he was somewhat of an expert at finding the hottest eats in the area, having put half his floor onto the cold noodle place he had sought out at the start of the month. And laugh as you had when he proudly told you about it, Johnny’s influence was no joke. News of the restaurant had somehow trickled its way down to HR, with Junmyeon just the other day asking around the team if anyone had tried the place before.
Perhaps you’d join them next week. It was always nice to be ahead of the trend.
You arrived at the seventh floor kitchen and sighed. The rack was out of green capsules again. Although, maybe that was to be expected. It was nearing the end of the day, and the gold capsules were finished too. So much for a 4pm pick-me-up, you thought, though it might have been for the better — too much caffeine in one day always made you a bit antsy and had your resting heart rate up in the high 80s.
With empty hands and a pout on your lips, you made your way back to the fifth floor.
Joy’s eyes were glued to her screen when you walked past her. “Jaehyun stopped by while you were in that Marketing call,” she said without looking at you, squinting at a spreadsheet.
“Did he?” you replied, trying your best at nonchalance despite the little flip of your stomach.
“Are you talking about her handsome friend from Digital?” Jungwoo peered around the table with a playful grin on his face.
You were back on good terms now, thanks to your promise to pay for his lunch from the cafeteria for a whole week to make up for the coffee incident. The look in his eyes right now had you thinking life was better that week where he had been afraid of you.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Joy said distractedly in between clicks of her keyboard. “Jisung, can you just double check these numbers for me? I’m in the second tab of the Excel file.”
The intern was quick to comply. You had a feeling she was his favourite senior.
“Anyways, I think he left you something.”
You made your way over to your desk, ignoring Jungwoo’s oohs and ahs. Sure enough, there was something sitting next to your diary and the three empty glasses you hadn’t had the chance to rinse out yet.
It was a coffee capsule. Specifically, it was a green coffee capsule.
There was a sticky note stuck to the back of it, which you turned around to read. His handwriting was still identical to that of the silly little notes he used to leave in the margins of your home economics workbook.
saved this last one from johnny’s clutches. enjoy ^.^
Despite the jitters from the end-of-day caffeine fix, you smiled the whole way home.
“I’ve found a way you can make it up to me.”
You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the screen. 9:34 am. The Saturday morning still had you in its clutches, and it took a few seconds to process the sounds you were hearing.
“Who is this?” you croaked, sleep lacing your voice.
“It’s Jaehyun.”
You sat up a little straighter against the pillows. “Jaehyun?” you echoed.
“Yes, it’s me. Do you not check the caller ID before you answer?”
You grumbled something about it being too early on the weekend to have your head screwed on properly, to which he laughed, a vivid sound even through the phone.
“Do you have plans later today?”
You hesitated. Technically, no, unless a hot date with Netflix and whatever leftover snacks you could find in your pantry counted as plans. You were due for a grocery trip soon. The three eggs and single sprig of spring onion in your fridge would not last for long. Cooking had never been something you enjoyed, especially not after a full work day, and yet living alone required so much of it. You didn’t want to make up a non-existent dinner reservation, partly because you knew he’d be able to tell the untruth just by listening to your voice, and partly because something unpleasant niggled at your insides at the thought of lying just to avoid him.
“Why, what’s up?” you asked instead.
“Well, you know that jazz festival?” You gave an affirmative hum. “I have tickets for today. Mark and I were supposed to go together, but he just called me saying he can’t make it. Something about a leak in his apartment from all the rain. So…”
You stifled a yawn. “So?” Your brain was still trying to catch up with the land of the awake and living.
“Come with me?”
The words took a while and a few blinks to register. When they did, your first instinct was to say no. Jaehyun was fine in small doses. A quick chat over coffee, sporadic texts throughout the day, conversation within the safety of a group setting — these were all fine. Manageable. Nice, even. But Jaehyun in the flesh, outside of the office, with nobody else around to buffer the strange sort of tension that seemed to always thrum between the two of you — that was an entirely different ball game altogether. Sometimes, a mere run-in was enough to have your heart going a little faster than usual, nerves lighting up at the unexpected sight of his face.
“I am not above begging. Please don’t make me go to this thing by myself.”
And yet, there was a flicker of something pleasant and sweet, something akin to excitement that curbed the nervous flutter in your gut. You were fifteen again, waiting outside the movie theatre, a little too giddy at the thought of spending time with the boy whose sweet smile had become the cause of your stomach somersaults. And that was before you had even admitted to yourself that you liked him, as more than a friend.
“What time is it?” you found yourself asking.
So maybe you were seriously considering it. You had been meaning to put that new film camera to use. The thing had been collecting dust in one of your drawers ever since you bought it on a whim one night scrolling through Pinterest. Somehow, the rows of tables and monitors in the office didn’t seem like the most interesting camera subjects compared to the scenes of concerts and beach bonfires that had driven your impulsive purchase.
“Well, the doors open at 11, but the first performer is at 12. And Lauv’s set isn’t until later in the evening.”
“Lauv is performing?” Your voice had gone up almost an octave, but you couldn’t care enough to be embarrassed. This was a crucial piece of information. Now you had to be there.
He laughed. “So is that a yes?”
“Yes. Yes, it’s a yes.” The covers were flipped off your legs in an instant.
It wasn’t that Jaehyun looked bad in slacks and a dress shirt. That was not the case at all. But you had grown used to them on him over the last few weeks, and the sight of his long legs in a pair of well-fitting trousers no longer caused a spike in your heart rate.
Jaehyun in casual clothes outside the office was uncharted territory.
The midday sun was strong outside the subway station. Clad in a black graphic tee over a pair of baggy green cargos, Jaehyun stood idly at the entrance, face hidden by the brown baseball cap on his head and eyes trained on his phone. How someone could look so gorgeous in something so ordinary was a secret only he knew the truth of. He caught sight of you from across the road, waiting for the pedestrian light, and raised his hand in a wave.
“It’s different seeing you out of your work clothes,” he said.
“Different good or different bad?”
A soft smile grazed his lips. “Just different. You look younger.”
“So do you,” you replied.
You look like the boy I was in love with all those years ago.
“Did you taxi?”
“No, I took the bus. There’s one that goes straight from my building. I didn’t know you lived around here,” you mused to yourself.
“My place is really close.” He pointed somewhere behind him. “Five minutes that way, tops. You should come over sometime.”
A slight pause. Jaehyun’s eyes flitted down to the pavement. You weren’t sure if the heat in your cheeks was from the sun or something else entirely.
“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “we should probably go. It takes 40 minutes to get there, so if we leave now we should be able to catch the 1pm.”
The subway on the weekend was nowhere near as awful as it usually was during the weekday rush hours, but packed nonetheless. You definitely preferred being stuck in a carriage full of bright-eyed and chattering teenagers than the usual crowd of solemn-faced office workers. When a seat finally freed up, Jaehyun was quick to offer it to you, manoeuvring himself so that he could stand in front of you as you sat down. Toe to toe, the tips of his shoes grazed yours, and you were suddenly reminded of study periods at the library. The two of you could never agree on who first started the game of footsie under the desk.
“See those girls over there?” you asked quietly, nodding towards a group of likely high schoolers down the other end of the carriage. Jaehyun turned his head to follow your gaze, catching sight of the girls who immediately erupted in whispers and giggles upon making eye contact with him. “They’ve been staring at you for the last two stops.”
He was quick to turn back towards you, nose scrunching and slightly embarrassed. “Kids these days are so weird,” he said with a soft groan. “Why are they doing that?”
“You know they’re only staring because you’re handsome.”
Despite the pinkness of his ears, he was smiling wide. “You think I’m handsome?”
You blinked up at him. “I didn’t say that.” Did I? “I meant they probably think you’re handsome. Which is why they’re staring. You know. It’s nice to look at good-looking people.”
The rushed explanations did nothing to shake the feeling that you had slipped-up somehow, and he had caught it. Jaehyun’s dimples only deepened at your backtracking.
“You know what I mean,” you finally huffed, biting back a smile at the deep sound of his responding laugh. “Whatever. I think this is our stop.”
The festival couldn’t have picked a better day to be held. The skies were clear and blue, and the air carried a light breeze that provided a welcome relief from the heavy stickiness of midsummer. It was a nice change from the sporadic rainstorms that had plagued the city over the last two weeks or so. Mark’s leaking apartment was proof of the temperamental weather. If you had one bone to pick, the sun was a tad strong, but that was to be expected. You had come prepared, tugging the bucket hat down further to cover your face.
Alaina Castillo’s set was well underway by the time you and Jaehyun made your way into the venue grounds. A decent amount of people had already arrived, trickling in to fill up the gated area in front of the main stage. The two of you filed in with the rest, finding a place towards the back of the growing crowd where there was ample room to breathe without inhaling someone else’s breath.
You had never been one for being stuck in a swarm of people. A harsh reminder of why that was the case appeared when, out of nowhere, a stranger’s elbow dug into your arm, knocking you sideways in their determined path towards the barricade.
The steadying hand around your shoulder was instantaneous.
“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked, and you mumbled something affirmative in reply, trying not to dwell too much on the warmth of his skin on your bare arm. His eyes followed the stranger who was still pushing on through the crowd in front. “People really need to watch where they’re going,” he muttered, brows drawn together in a frown.
The rest of the afternoon proceeded more smoothly. It was a little unsettling how normal and nice everything felt. Jaehyun kept close to you for the sets that followed, the distance between the two of you gradually shrinking as the crowd grew in size. The occasional brush of your forearms as you moved to the music was no longer something to jump at like you had the first time it had happened. You managed to snap a few pictures on your almost-new film camera, mostly of the artist performing, but there was one of you in there somewhere amidst the stage shots, taken by an insistent and smiley Jaehyun during one of the set breaks.
“So this is why you wanted someone to come with you,” you said, sliding onto the bench and passing him one of the burgers from the food truck.
“It’s so much more efficient when you can line up for two things at once. If I was by myself, I’d either wait for the beer and let my burger get soggy, or wait for the burger and let my beer get warm and flat. This way the food is fresh, and our drinks are ice cold out of the fridge.”
You cracked a smile. “And here I thought you called me because you enjoyed my company.”
“I do enjoy your company,” he said without missing a beat. “The other stuff is just an added plus.”
You took a sip of the cold beer, hoping it would stave off the quick flush of your cheeks. Jaehyun said things so easily. Too easily. It was harder and harder to adhere to that invisible boundary you had been so adamant on protecting.
Why were you so reluctant to let him back in? Why all the walls? He made it too easy for thoughts like that to creep in and loiter in the back of your mind.
Evening had begun to settle, the brightness of the midday sky fading away to a twinkling twilight blue over your heads. The music was quieter at the picnic tables by the tents, where festival-goers sought respite from the main stage crowds with a cold beverage and something greasy. Between mouthfuls of an early makeshift dinner, you and Jaehyun sat in your own bubble, comfortably falling into conversation about the performances throughout the day, or whatever else happened to be on your minds.
“Your mouth opens so wide,” you said, watching as he all but inhaled half the burger in one go. His nose scrunched up as he tried to take the massive bite, and the sight of it was such a far cry from his usual cool guy image that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to snap a picture of it. The click of the shutter had him looking up at you mid-chew with a dismayed expression.
“That’s not fair. You attacked when I wasn’t ready!”
“I’d hardly call that an attack,” you said, not without a smile. “I was just getting a candid.”
He wiped his fingers on the napkin. “Okay, my turn then,” he said, gesturing for you to hand the camera over. You obliged, letting him point the lens at you and fiddle with the knobs along the top. His slender fingers navigated the controls with a practised ease.
“Relax,” he added softly, noticing your fidgeting. Twenty-something years, and you had made little progress in mastering the art of posing for photos. “Pretend the camera’s not here, and it’s just you and me.”
Right. Like that was supposed to make you loosen up.
“I actually used to be really into photography. Got pretty good at it too,” he said.
“Really? I don’t remember that.”
“Picked it up in uni,” he explained. “Had all this free time on my hands and didn’t know what to do with it. Besides drinking.” A pause. “Honestly, first year second semester was pretty rough after… you know.”
The last part caught you somewhat off-guard. After that fateful April night, you had always assumed Jaehyun was off living his best life, blowing through society events with the new friends he had made, maybe even letting a few of them warm his bed now that you weren’t around. It wouldn’t have been the biggest surprise. Even at nineteen, Jaehyun’s good looks were uncontested. His sweet and attentive personality was the cherry on top of an already delectable cake. Whatever he got up to when the sun set, you were none the wiser, having completely wiped his existence from your phone by the time your first semester exam period rolled around.
Though you didn’t go as far as to block his number, he never reached out, and so Jeong Jaehyun became a relic of the past, embracing his newfound freedom now that he had shed himself of you, his unwanted baggage.
Or so you thought.
“But yeah,” he continued, “I started getting into photography. Burnt a hole in my wallet trying out a bunch of different cameras,” he said with a chuckle. “I liked film the most though, I think. It’s the only one I still use now.”
“What do you like about it?”
He took a moment, pausing in thought. “The colours, mostly. How it’s a bit muted, it has that vintage feeling.” You hummed in agreement. “Selfies on a film camera are fun as well.”
“You must really like looking at yourself,” you teased, enjoying the sight of his ears flushing with colour from where they poked out above the camera.
“Not like that,” he said in reply to the raise of your eyebrows. “It’s more like… when you take a selfie on film, you can’t see yourself, right? Whether the focus is focusing, or if the angle is right.
“Or if your whole face is actually in the shot, not just your right eye.”
“Exactly. But then taking the picture anyway. That’s what I like.” He pulled away from the camera to flash you a small smile. “Isn’t it funny, the way we try so hard to capture moments of time?”
Jaehyun’s attention returned to the viewfinder, leaving you to quietly dwell on his words. How else could one keep a piece of time stored away if not through photos? And yet, photography would never be able to capture the entirety of a moment the way a memory could. The sound of the band’s bass guitar from the side stage in the adjacent garden. The smell of summer carried by the evening breeze as it ruffled through his hair.
The warm feeling in your chest as you sat across from him at this wooden picnic bench, surrounded by people, sharing wistful conversation and a basket of fries.
The feeling of coming home.
The shutter clicked.
“Got it. That last one is going to turn out so nice.” Jaehyun smiled triumphantly, cheeks dimpling. “If you make this your profile picture you have to add the ‘photo by’. I need my credits.”
You blinked away the precarious thoughts. “Alright, mister photographer man, give it back now. Don’t use up all my film before Lauv.”
He handed the camera back to you, looking very pleased with himself. The light from the nearby tents cast a dusky glow over his face. Jaehyun from Digital was sharp and polished. The Jaehyun before you now, with his hair dishevelled from taking off the cap earlier, was softer, more open, and more subtle in the way he had slipped under your defences and picked the locks chained around your heart.
The question now was whether you’d let him in further than you already had.
He tugged at his collar. “God, it’s still muggy at night, isn’t it?”
“You stay here, I’ll get us some more beers,” you said, already standing up.
If anything, you were grateful for the errand, a welcome distraction from the tumultuous battle between your heart and your head that always forged on at any thought of him. The line for the bar was no shorter than it had been half an hour ago, to nobody’s surprise (this was a festival in Seoul, of course the queues would be severe) and it was a while before the two cold plastic cups were in your hands.
The short time away from him had given you the space to steer your mindset back onto the charted platonic course. A little voice in the back of your mind objected, and was making a damn convincing argument about why you should be more inclined to go beyond plain friendship with Jaehyun, but you chose to ignore it, suppressing the nagging with a deep breath and a smile that you hoped looked less conflicted than how you felt. Beers in hand, you carefully made your way back to the picnic table — only to be met with a rather interesting sight.
Jaehyun was still where you had left him, thankfully. But the two girls that now stood around him were a new addition.
“Hey,” you greeted, tapping him on the shoulder to pass him one of the beers. The taller girl visibly deflated when he flashed you a grateful smile, taking the plastic cup from your hand. The shorter one, however, ran her eyes up and down your figure with an almost calculating gaze.
“Is this your friend?” the shorter one asked, question directed at Jaehyun.
“Uh, yeah, um—hi,” you answered very eloquently, introducing yourself. You tossed a glance between Jaehyun and the two girls. “Do you um—are you guys friends?”
“Well, no, not really. Minjeong and Jimin just came—”
“We were actually going to ask if you guys wanted to join us up closer to the main stage?” the shorter one (Minjeong perhaps?) asked, flashing a sweet smile you suspected was more for Jaehyun’s benefit than yours. “We have a blanket and a few chairs set up, so you can sit and watch the closing set. It’s much more comfortable than standing inside the barricade.”
“Jaehyun looked a little lonely by himself,” the taller one added.
Lonely because you left him for ten minutes to go get some cold drinks? These girls were unbelievable.
“What do you say? Want to join us?”
Maybe you should’ve taken the group of highschoolers on the subway earlier more seriously as a forewarning. Not that you had any say in what Jaehyun could and could not do — he was his own person, and the closest thing you had to a claim on him had disintegrated years ago. If he wanted to go hang out with pretty strangers, he could go and do exactly that, and you didn’t have to follow him either. The invitation had clearly been meant for him more than it had been for you.
So what if you had been looking forward to enjoying the last set together? You were a big girl. You could brave the main stage crowds by yourself if you had to.
Jaehyun glanced at you, searching your eyes while you tried your best to keep your face neutral and devoid of the uneasy thoughts bubbling away beneath your skin. He was his own person. He could make his own choices.
After a second or two, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and turned back to the two expectant girls with a polite smile. “We’ll take our chances with the pit,” he answered. “But thank you for the offer. That’s kind of you guys.”
The two girls made their exit shortly afterwards, but not without a final look at him, and a decidedly less enthusiastic one at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the two of you sipping on your beers without a word, waiting for the other to speak.
“You could have gone with them if you wanted to,” you finally mumbled, eyes fixed on the contents of your cup.
To your surprise, Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m pretty sure Minjeong had an engagement ring on her finger.”
“Oh, what?”
You definitely had not noticed, too occupied by the saccharine looks she was throwing his way.
“Yeah. It was a pretty big diamond too. I think she must have forgotten to take it off today.”
You turned to look at him then. Jaehyun already had his eyes on you, sporting a lazy grin. “Come on, you can’t think I’m the type to mess around with married women?”
“That’s not what I—I didn’t know—”
“Don’t worry,” he interjected. “You’re still cute when you’re jealous.”
The quick heat rising to your face dispelled any of the remaining nonchalance in your expression. “I wasn’t—I’m not jealous,” you spluttered. “I was just worried—I mean, not worried,” you paused, sighing. “I thought you’d leave me.”
His eyes sought out yours, keeping them captive once they grabbed a hold.
“I wouldn’t leave you.”
The teasing brevity to his voice had disappeared. Somehow, you had the feeling he wasn’t simply talking about the jazz festival. The sincerity in his gaze made it hard to look away, but you had to, in the name of self preservation. Too long staring into those brown eyes was an unnecessary test of the upper limits of your heart rate.
“Maybe she came with her husband. He could be up there on that picnic mat, waiting for her.”
He laughed, throwing his head back. “Trust me, if her husband was here, she would not have been looking at me like that.”
To their credit though, finding a spot to watch the main stage proved to be rather difficult now that everyone had arrived to catch the final act. For a moment you considered leaving the pit to take the two girls up on their offer. But with Jaehyun by your side, you were able to navigate the crowds with a bit more peace of mind, his presence a solid and comforting anchor within the sea of people. A few rogue pushes here and there had you stumbling — and perhaps the two beers on a rather empty stomach were coming on faster than you had expected — but he was there, steadying you with a gentle hand around your arm, or the light press of his firm chest against your back.
And maybe you leaned into him for longer than necessary to regain your balance, but was that really a crime? To enjoy the touch of a friend? Was it a crime for warmth to pool in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him swaying along to Lauv’s Enemies?
No, the little voice in your head denied forcefully. Jaehyun grooving to the music had always been one of your weaknesses.
As the closing chords of Paris in the Rain sounded out across the venue, you pulled out your film camera.
“Walking down an empty street.”
A gentle nudge of Jaehyun’s shoulder had him turning towards you, nose scrunched in a happy half-laugh from watching the performance. You moved to face the back of the crowd and raised the camera high, pointing it towards the two of you.
Was the stage in the shot? Was Lauv?
Were you?
“Puddles underneath our feet.”
Call it courage, or liquid courage, or just plain recklessness on your part. Rising up on your tiptoes, you pressed your cheek to his, and clicked the shutter button.
The final chord of the song struck, softly, like an afterthought, and the crowd burst into appreciative hoots and applause, marking the end of the performance.
You were beaming as you turned back towards him. “Do you think I got that one?”
Jaehyun simply stared at you, lips parted and turned up slightly at the corners. He looked more caught off-guard than he had when you had told him you thought all the Cigarettes After Sex songs sounded the same. You felt the glowing smile on your face slip, little by little, as you let his eyes roam your features, gaze indecipherable. They flitted to your lips, and for a second you were sure you stopped breathing.
Just do it! Just fucking do it! screamed that little voice in the back of your mind.
And perhaps you would’ve done it too, whatever it was, if it weren’t for the shove from behind that sent you almost face-planting into his chest.
“What the hell?” you yelped, whipping your head around.
What was with the people here today? You never thought jazz lovers could be so aggressive and insensitive to others’ personal space. Trying to find the perpetrator was a futile task, since the crowd had started to disperse following the end of the performance, moving in all directions.
Jaehyun looked over you with concern, the earlier expression on his face now gone.
“Come on,” he finally said, fingers gently circling around your wrist. “Let’s get out of here before we get trampled by the crowd.”
Overhead, the blue-black sky that had been so cooperative for the whole day emitted a low rumble, as if to emphasise Jaehyun’s words. Sure enough, by the time the two of you arrived at the station, it had started to sprinkle. Perhaps the clouds had been holding back the rain until the very end of the festival. How considerate of them, you thought.
The ride back into the city felt shorter than the one to the venue, though it couldn’t have been. Saturday nights were even busier than the weekday rush hour, with people young and old out and about, ready to tame the weekend with sheer determination and a bottle of soju in the stomach. This time, there were no free seats in your carriage, but you didn’t mind. Standing with Jaehyun, your heads pressed together to go through the videos in his camera roll, made the time pass faster. There was something to his photos, you decided. Something in the angle, or the light, or the composition, that made them look nicer than the ones on your phone. Maybe you ought to take a photography course too.
The clouds may have been considerate enough for the festival to hold off dumping their contents during the day, but they certainly were not for the two of you tonight. Standing under cover at the subway station exit, you watched as the torrential deluge only seemed to worsen. Thunder cracked angrily through the air. It wasn’t July without the threat of flash flooding.
“Any drivers around?” Jaehyun asked.
You gave a sad shake of your head. “Nobody’s picking up my request. Must be because of the rain,” you muttered. Overhead, the sky split open with a strike of lightning, startling you, and you jumped back a bit, further into the covered area of the exit.
“How about the bus?”
“I think I just missed one,” you answered, checking the timetable on your phone. “It says the next isn’t for another twenty minutes. But with the rain, it might be delayed even longer.”
You flicked through the taxi app, then the bus timetable app, and then finally back to the weather app, which you always seemed to forget to check on days like this. Three consecutive 100% signs stared back at you, and you let out a sigh. The sky would not be clearing up anytime soon.
“My apartment is only two streets down, if you want somewhere to wait out the rain,” he said.
You looked up at him. The smile on his face was guileless, but at the same time, there was something guarded about it, like he was expecting your rejection. Perhaps you had studied his face for too long, because then he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and averting his eyes to the ground.
“Or you don’t have to, we could just—”
“Okay,” you said.
His head shot back up. “Okay?”
You shrugged, a smile finding its way to your lips. “I’d rather not be soaking wet on the bus.”
“Okay,” he repeated, corners of his mouth turning upwards to mirror yours. “To my place, then.”
The usual five minute walk to Jaehyun’s apartment from the subway station turned into a two-and-a-half minute mad dash under the downpour. Despite your attempts at keeping to storefront shelters and ducking under the cover of big trees, the short trip had ended up with the both of you drenched to the bone, teeth chattering as you dripped rainwater all over his lobby.
You said a silent apology to the building cleaners.
It was a relief to be dry again. Jaehyun’s sweats swamped you, the French terry fabric pooling around your feet as you sat on the couch in his living room. The top was no better, reaching almost to your knees, with the sleeves completely covering your fingertips. His clothes weren’t always this big on you. At least he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent.
The sound of the running shower blended smoothly with the raindrops pelting violently against the balcony window. You wrung your hands, unsure of what to do while you waited for him to come out of the bathroom. It was easy to feel out of place in a home foreign to you. The sleek furniture and minimalist colour palette of the apartment looked nothing like Jaehyun’s childhood bedroom.
Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to come to his place. While you were pretty sure he hadn’t invited you up with any ulterior motives in mind, there was still something ambiguous about being in your ex-boyfriend’s home and wearing his clothes. And only his clothes.
You would have liked to keep your undergarments on, but they had also been soaked through. Going bare in these too-big sweats had seemed the less questionable option, compared to sitting with a wet patch around your butt and crotch. Heat flooded your face as you thought about your underwear and bra hanging on the heated towel rack in the bathroom.
Whatever. It wasn’t like they were things he’d never seen before. And as for his clothes, of course you’d wash them before giving them back to him.
It was then that you decided that you had enough of sitting around in a puddle of fabric and your own thoughts. Jaehyun’s living room wasn’t all that big, even if it felt roomier than your own, with enough space to fit a decently-sized couch and small coffee table. The tv on the far wall sat atop a rather large entertainment unit that, upon further inspection, also housed a record player and an impressive collection of vinyls.
You padded over, eyes flicking through the various titles printed on the covers. One of them had been taken out from the shelf and sat splayed on top of the cabinet. Maybe he had meant to play it, or just forgotten to put it away. Slowly, you let a finger trace around the edge of the jacket and over the black lettering of the title. You’d recognise that white album cover anywhere.
Only you knew how much effort it had taken to source the thing, scouring auction sites and dodgy online stores until you finally bit the bullet and ordered it from a reasonable-looking seller with a 4.7 star rating. But it had all been worth it. The unadulterated joy on Jaehyun’s face as he undid the wrapping paper to reveal Frank Ocean’s Blonde was not something you could easily forget. Later, you found out that it had probably been a bootleg, since the official Blonde vinyls were a limited release, but he had hardly batted an eye when you broke the news.
“Still my favourite birthday present that anyone’s gotten me,” Jaehyun said.
Dressed in a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweatpants, he leant against the bathroom door, surveying you with an easy smile. You must not have heard the shower turn off, the noise drowned out by the storm raging outside. His hair, still damp from the shower, hung over his eyes, and you watched as he brushed it back with his right hand, arm flexing with the movement.
The sudden flare in your lower belly was something you’d rather not feel, alone in these four walls with him, with nobody else around to witness or put a stop to whatever might follow. You’d like to think self control was something you had a firm grip on, but it seemed Jaehyun was made to put you to the test.
“Actually think it might be my favourite present ever,” he added, pushing off the door frame. He reached you in a few strides, maintaining a polite distance between your bodies.
“I didn’t even realise you still had this,” you murmured, letting him take the record from your hands. You tried not to flinch at the brush of his fingers against yours. “You didn’t even have one of these back then,” you said, lightly tapping the case of the record player.
“I changed my mind, actually. The turntable is my favourite present.”
An unfamiliar twinge of dread zipped through you. “Who gave it to you?”
Could it be an ex-lover’s gift sitting on display in his living room? That did not sit nicely in your stomach.
“Myself.”
He was holding back a laugh, eyes squeezed into crescent moons and too busy appreciating his own joke to catch the quick roll of your eyes. Instantly, your chest felt a little lighter, and the dread vanished as quickly as it had come on.
“Here, let me put it on,” he said, shuffling over towards you to lift up the case on the record player. With gentle fingers and a delicateness you didn’t see often, he unsleeved the record and carefully placed it on the turntable. A few fiddles with the side knobs and a precise adjustment of the needle arm later, the opening bars of Frank Ocean’s Pink and White filled the air of his living room.
For a minute, there were no words exchanged, the two of you simply content to enjoy the music as it filtered through the speakers. There was a quiet smile on Jaehyun’s face. You wondered if he, like you, was thinking of the last time you had listened to this album together.
The image of the two of you, sprawled out on his bed, sharing a pair of wired earphones, was hard to shake. It had been early evening, or nearly twilight. Sometime before sunset. The reflection on the ceiling of his childhood bedroom had changed along with the sky, until the only light left in the room was the dim blue glow from the laptop on his desk. At his mother’s call for dinner, he had gently shaken you awake, fingers light on your shoulder and against your cheek.
Jaehyun was undoubtedly handsome in the light. But there was something about dusk and the softness of the shadows on his face that made him all the more compelling. You usually weren’t one to initiate, so the kiss you pressed to his mouth in the barely-lit room had surprised you both.
Even now, the thought strangely sent a flood of heat to your cheeks.
“Sorry, did you want something to eat? I haven’t been a very good host.”
The grumble of your stomach answered before you could. You bit back an embarrassed smile, but Jaehyun was not so frugal with his amusement, letting out a short chuckle. Your feet followed him as he made his way to the kitchen. Perched on the marble countertop, you watched as he rummaged through the fridge.
“I have eggs, yesterday’s leftovers, and a shit ton of beer cans,” he announced.
You exchanged a glance.
“Let’s do ramen, actually. That sounds better.” He bent down to dig through the pantry, pulling out two red packets, before moving back to the fridge and getting two eggs. “I can crack these in too, and—why are you looking at me like that?”
It was your turn to laugh, the wide grin on your face a contrast to the cautious smile on his.
“Are we having ramen?”
His brow creased a little. “I thought you liked ramen?” The innocent tilt of his head made him all the more endearing to look at.
“I do, but… did you really invite me back to your place… to have ramen?”
It took a few seconds for the ball to drop. You held back giggles as his ears flushed hotly, as they always seemed to do on the occasions you decided to indulge yourself and tease him.
“Come on, that’s not—you’re doing it on purpose,” he said, bottom lip jutting out with the suggestion of a pout. Despite his grumbles, the shape of his mouth slowly settled into a defeated smile at your visible glee of having flustered him.
Jaehyun, soft-spoken and easy-going, was not the type to be easily ruffled. You excelled and enjoyed the challenge of it more than most.
“No,” he said once your laughter had somewhat subsided, voice low and velvety. “But I wouldn’t be opposed.”
And suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore.
The silence that followed was a loud one. It was hard to ignore the way your mouth dried up at his words. Something warm and tingly spread from your stomach all the way down to your toes as you stood there under his level gaze, eyes drawn to his like magnets. He had to know. The effect his words had on you were surely plastered all over your face, obvious in the tight grip of your fingers against the countertop and the shortening of your breaths.
Jaehyun leaned in a little closer and you felt the inhale stick in the back of your throat. Then he cracked a crooked smile, pretty teeth all on display.
“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”
He moved away then, busying himself with pouring water into a pot and bringing it to a boil while you tried to blink yourself out of the daze. “Ramen okay?” he asked over his shoulder.
You cleared your dry throat, somehow finding your voice again. “Ramen is fine. Thank you,” you added after a beat. You took a deep breath, waiting for the rush of blood to drain from your face.
Something sour settled in your chest — something akin to disappointment, though surely it couldn’t be. Disappointed that what? Jaehyun wasn’t actually sexually attracted to you? When you were obviously still attracted to him, despite all your attempts at convincing yourself you weren’t?
You scoffed to yourself. As if.
A quick shake of your head was almost enough to clear your mind, save for the remnants of that sour feeling that lingered. You asked if there was anything you could do to help, not wanting to simply sit around on your thumbs and wait to be fed. He had insisted you do exactly that, warning you there was only enough space in the kitchen for one, and assuring that there was nothing he needed from you besides patience and faith in his cooking.
Patience you could give him. Faith was a little harder to muster, given your memories of the kitchen disaster from when he had tried to make okonomiyaki.
The questionable, half-burnt half-uncooked taste was one thing. You finding random pieces of cabbage on the tiled floor for days afterwards was another thing entirely.
However, it seemed Jaehyun had improved from his old ways. The steaming pot he brought over to the coffee table not only smelled delicious, but looked the part too. You helped carry over the small bowls and chopsticks, along with two cans of beer, despite his requests for you to just sit and be ready to eat.
You took the first bite, blowing on the noodles to cool them down before slurping them into your mouth. All the while, he watched you, an expectant expression painting his face.
“Wow. You’ve grown up, Jeong Jaehyun. Who would’ve guessed you’d become such a whiz in the kitchen?”
He smiled, a bashful one at your compliment. “Being able to cook ramen is nothing impressive,” he said, digging in with his own chopsticks.
“There was no way you could have made this for me when we were 17. Look at this egg!” The centre was perfectly soft, not too runny, but not rock hard either. Just the way you liked them.
You took another mouthful. “You’re a changed man,” you said. “Honestly, your place is a lot cleaner than I expected it to be.”
“That’s what living with four other guys will do to you. I had to learn how to clean out of pure survival,” he chuckled.
“Was it really that bad?”
He grimaced. “You should’ve seen my dorm room. Basically a biological hazard.”
“They didn’t let non-students into the building. Your building RA was crazy scary, remember?” Even now you could remember the perpetual scowl of the law major when Jaehyun brought you into the dorm lobby.
“It was probably for the best. You would’ve broken up with me on the spot the second you walked through the door.”
You shared a laugh. Strangely, jokes about your break-up were light-hearted in their landing, the words leaving much less of a prickly uncomfortableness than you had been expecting. Perhaps it was still an event of importance in your life, but that cloudy unpleasantness you had come to associate it with had dissipated. It was a turning point, certainly. But so was graduation, and moving out, and travelling overseas for the first time.
Your feelings about those things weren’t all bad. As you shared the pot of ramen and sipped on your beers, you realised, neither were your feelings about Jaehyun.
“I’m telling you, I was drinking Taeyong under the table. And I do mean that literally. He was passed out and laid across the stools.” He grinned, proud at the memory of beating his senior even five years later. You couldn’t help but grin too, amused by the sincerity of his expression and the way his shoulders set in accomplishment.
“Okay, okay. So now you’re a better drinker, you’ve gotten good at cooking, and you’re cleaner too.”
“And funnier,” he added.
“That one is still up for debate,” you joked, and his eyebrows furrowed together in mock offence. Digs at his sense of humour were not taken lightly.
“Just because you don’t get my high quality gags,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re missing out.”
You nodded, making a noise of agreement if only to appease him.
“What about me? How am I different?” you asked, voice curious.
Jaehyun didn’t miss a beat. “Hmm, I think you got older?”
“Come on, I’m being serious!”
His laughter subdued then, surveying you thoughtfully. A quiet smile tugged at his lips when he spoke again.
“You’re more outspoken than you used to be.” He paused, taking a sip from his can while trying to find the right words, all the while keeping his eyes on you. “You prioritise yourself more. And you’re more sure of who you are. You shine brighter, I think.”
Strange, how a person’s gaze could strip you down and make you feel so naked. There was nothing but earnestness in his eyes, plain and absolute, and the intensity of it was almost too much for you to bear. After all your time apart, Jaehyun could still see you, and see through you.
I think you still know me inside out, and that scares me, you wanted to tell him.
Instead, you looked away first, tearing your eyes away from his with considerable effort. The pot of ramen on the coffee table, lukewarm now, was almost finished. The music had also stopped playing a while ago. Neither you or Jaehyun had bothered to get up and flip the vinyl to the other side, too busy eating. All that was left was the rain, and even that had faded to a soft pattering against the glass, following its own rhythm.
Hastily, you stuffed a piece of kimchi into your mouth, for lack of anything better to do. The crunch of it in your mouth was loud, and you fought back a cringe.
“Did your mother make this?” you asked, hoping your attempt at diverting the conversation wasn’t so obvious.
If Jaehyun noticed, he didn’t show it, only nodding in confirmation.
“She dropped some off last month,” he replied. “Remember how you told me her’s was better than your own mother’s?”
You let out a scandalised gasp. “As if I would ever say such a thing! Don’t let my mother ever hear something so blasphemous about her favourite daughter.”
“You’re her only daughter.”
“And you care too much about technicalities. Just because I’m the only one doesn’t mean I can’t still be the favourite.”
The crisp crunch of another piece of kimchi punctuated the end of your sentence. There was certainly something different about Mama Jeong’s recipes. If there was one thing you missed besides Jaehyun himself, it would have been his mother’s cooking. The woman knew her way around a stovetop better than a Michelin chef, at least in your eyes.
You thought of her warm smile, and her even warmer embrace. Jaehyun had inherited many things from her, kindness being the greatest of them. Back then, she had been so sure of your future place in their family, welcoming you into her home as if you were her own daughter. You wondered where she stood on that now.
Still clinging onto that idea, perhaps, or were her sights now set on someone else?
“You’ve got something…” Jaehyun murmured.
He reached across the table, over the pot and the small bowls, the movement quick and almost instinctive. Soft fingers found purchase on your left cheek. His thumb was gentle as it brushed away the stray chilli flake from the corner of your mouth.
Just the lightest touch against your bottom lip. And the warmth of his hand cradling your face.
Then he froze, as if to catch himself, but the damage was already done.
Jaehyun pulled his hand back with a start, an inscrutable expression across his face. He spilled a quick apology that you smiled away, putting on a composed front. At least, you assumed it was an apology. It was hard to hear anything above the buzzing chaos of your mind. The air filled with idle noise as the two of you shuffled in your seats.
“I should um—I should probably get going,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. The meal had long been finished. Your hands were already beginning to gather up the bowls and utensils into a stack for easy carrying.
Jaehyun hummed, something akin to resignation in the noise. “Yeah, uh… I guess so.”
“Let me help you clean up first, and then I’ll be on my way.”
Despite his protests against you assisting with any kind of housework, there you were at the sink, helping him scrub everything nice and clean within the small space of his kitchen. Maybe he was right about there only being enough space for one person behind the counter. The aluminium beer cans went into their designated bins, and you made sure to wipe down the coffee table too.
This time, your half-damp, half-dried clothes found their way into a Byredo shopping bag — Jaehyun would rather die than not smell good — though your shoes still squelched rather uncomfortably when you slipped your bare feet in. By luck, you were able to book a taxi and could pass on the wet walk to the bus stop.
You thanked him again for bringing you along, noting that you probably got more out of the alleged ‘favour’ than he did.
“Trust me, going with you made the whole thing so much better,” he said, both cheeks dimpling in your favourite smile of his. “And let me know if you need to get the film on your camera developed. I know a place.”
The ride home was flavoured by a sudden loneliness. Maybe it was the view of the city at night, or the absence of people out on the rainy streets, that had an empty feeling settle in your chest.
Perhaps you should have delayed leaving his apartment. Perhaps you shouldn’t have left at all, and instead weathered the night away with Jaehyun on the couch, some slasher flick playing on the television while you shook under the blankets and tried not to scream at the jumpscares, like you used to. You never did understand why he liked horror films as much as he did.
Perhaps he’d slot his fingers between your own and give them a reassuring squeeze, and gaze at you with the kind of amused fondness he only ever reserved for you.
Heat flooded your face. As if you were entertaining the thought of spending the night at your ex-boyfriend’s place. And getting butterflies at the thought of holding hands?
How embarrassing.
One thing was for certain. The walls you had put up were cracking, and there seemed to be little hope of patching them up.
“Will you stop messing with that thing?”
Jungwoo clicked his tongue against his teeth, fingers still fiddling with the ribbon on the gift bag.
“It’s not straight,” he grumbled, pulling at the bow.
“You’re so pedantic.”
“It’s called being detail-oriented,” he fired back, leaning against the backseat of the taxi with a sigh.
You raised an eyebrow. “You say that like I’m not.”
“Well,” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. His mouth formed the shape of a smirk.
You flicked a glance towards the rearview mirror, checking to see if the driver was paying attention to the two of you in the back. After verifying he was not, you landed a few (soft…ish) punches on Jungwoo’s upper arm, revelling in the shocked little noises he made, along with a few mumbles of ‘that actually hurts’ and ‘crazy woman’.
How nice it was to let your hands fly without the threat of some other fifth floor witness reporting you for physical harassment.
“I’m telling Joy the present is entirely from me,” you warned, turning around to face the front again.
“Right, except the card inside says my name too. So that’s not going to work.”
You reached into the gift bag, pulling out said card before rolling down the window. “Let me just throw this out.”
It was Jungwoo’s turn to deliver a light smack to your wrist. You dropped the envelope back in the bag, not without tossing an eye-roll his way. He knew just as well as you did that there was no real substance behind the threats — banter with Jungwoo was more for amusement than anything else. Deep down, you were quite fond of him, even if your actions tended to say otherwise, and you’d like to wager he quite enjoyed your company too.
You couldn’t wait to get a few shots in him later tonight. Word had it he was a notorious lightweight.
“Hopefully nobody vomits. I’d hate to be cleaning that up in my own house.” He shuddered at the thought.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” you smiled sweetly, patting him on the shoulder. “You just focus on sticking to your limit, okay? I heard what happened at last year’s wrap up event.”
He bristled. “Nothing happened! It honestly wasn’t even that bad. I’m getting unfairly slandered,” he sulked. “I think you should stop hanging out with Joy so much.”
“Yeah, alright. Should we just skip her birthday party and turn the car around then?”
“Shut up.”
The taxi pulled up in front of Joy’s apartment complex, a tall modern thing with much bigger windows than your own building. And so much more glass, too. After splitting the taxi fare with Jungwoo, the two of you stood at the entrance, waiting for the intercom to connect.
“Are you sure you pressed the right buttons?” Jungwoo asked, peering over your shoulder.
“Yes, of course. Apartment 814.”
“Maybe you should let me try.”
You let out a sigh. “It’s three numbers, Jungwoo. How is it going to be any different if it’s you pressing them instead of me? Do you think the keypad is going to magically—”
“Hello?”
An unfamiliar male voice crackled through the intercom. “Are you here for Joy?”
“Yes,” you and Jungwoo answered in unison.
“Great, I’ll come down to get you guys now. Will only be a minute!” and then the line disconnected.
You and Jungwoo exchanged a glance. “Is he going to let us in?” you asked.
“He literally said he’d come down to get us,” he answered flatly. “Do you not listen?”
“It was hard to hear him clearly with all the noise in the background,” you grumbled in defence. Hopefully Joy’s walls were thicker than your own, and her neighbours would not lodge a complaint halfway through the night.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal the face of the intercom answerer. It wasn’t detective work to match up the real thing to the pictures Joy would sometimes show you, though he looked taller in real life than he did in the photos from their weekend Jeju trip.
“Sorry about the wait, it was a bit hard to hear the doorbell,” he greeted, ushering you both inside with a warm smile. “I’m Doyoung, by the way.”
You and Jungwoo both introduced yourselves as you stepped into the elevator after him, to which he responded with a hum in recognition, and a knowing grin.
“Are you on door duty for the night?” Jungwoo asked.
Doyoung nodded, pressing on the button for the eighth floor. “It appears I am. She has her hands full with guests to entertain, so,” he trailed off, eyes glazing over for a split second, “you’ll see what I mean when we get up there.”
You had never imagined that a 2-bedroom apartment could fit so many people. Granted, it was nothing compared to the kind of parties you frequented during your university days where cheap spirits and green soju bottles lined the counter, but it was quite a distant cry from the gathering you thought it would be. Judging by the look on Jungwoo’s face, he had not been expecting this either.
There had to be at least forty people. It almost made you wonder why she didn’t just book out a space instead of letting everyone invade her and her boyfriend’s shared home.
Doyoung made his exit rather quickly after letting you in, probably off to tend to one of his many other duties as unofficial host — poor guy was likely in for a very busy night — leaving you and Jungwoo to fend for yourselves in the entryway of the apartment. There was barely any room left in the tiled space for you to put your shoes.
How did Joy even know this many people? was the thought at the forefront of your mind as you helped Jungwoo stack his sneakers next to yours on a rack further down the hallway. Her present was left on a table near the entry piled with gift bags and wrapped boxes that you assumed was the designated drop-off area.
Speaking of the birthday girl, you spotted her mingling in the living room and pointed her out to Jungwoo, though it was no easy feat finding her. The number of people, coupled with the dim ambient lighting, made it a challenge to recognise familiar faces. Joy, champagne glass in hand, was swept away in conversation with one of the most beautiful women you had ever laid eyes on. The gorgeous lady held a matching champagne flute in one hand, while the other was wrapped around the arm of—
“Junmyeon? What the hell is he doing here with that beautiful woman?”
Jungwoo took the words right out of your mouth, a somewhat displeased noise making its way past his lips. You couldn’t help but echo the sentiment.
“Can’t believe this turned into a work function the moment we stepped through the door,” you all but groaned. “And here I thought having you around was bad enough already.”
You expertly dodged the elbow he jabbed into your side.
Joy spotted the two of you then, lingering by the kitchen, and quickly excused herself from the conversation to rush over. The champagne wobbled precariously in her glass as she approached, engulfing the two of you in a sweet-smelling hug.
“My little children! I’m so glad you could make it!” she cried, resting her chin in the space between your shoulder and Jungwoo’s. You exchanged a glance with the boy amidst the chorus of ‘happy birthday’s.
There was a 77% chance she was drunk already.
“Had a little too much fun tonight?” you asked, helping to prop her upright again.
Joy only beamed in response. “All the more fun now that you two are here. My favourite fifth floor prisoners.” She gave your cheek a soft pinch.
“Quick question,” Jungwoo began, “why is our manager in your house?”
“With his arm around a beautiful woman way out of his league?” you added, swatting her fingers away from your face.
“That’s my sister Irene,” she said, like it was common knowledge.
You raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you have a sister?”
“Okay, well not my real sister,” she amended, hurriedly waving off your words. “She was a senior in my department. I was really close with her back in university, so, basically my sister. I think we look pretty alike, honestly.”
“And her relation to Junmyeon is…?”
Joy threw a conspiratorial glance around before leaning in, beckoning the two of you closer. This time, a few drops of the champagne did manage to escape via the side of her glass, narrowly missing Jungwoo’s white socks.
“I set them up. On a date!” she whispered, eyes glinting with pride. Why she chose to whisper when it was already hard enough to hear her above the noise at her normal speaking level was beyond you.
You blinked at her a few times. “You set up a goddess like that… with our manager?”
Joy waved another hand dismissively. “Oh, please. Like Junmyeon’s not handsome too. You only think that because you’re too used to seeing him frown and squint at a monitor.”
You cast a glance in his direction. Maybe she was right. Junmyeon did look somewhat more like a human without his glasses and the semi-permanent lines etched into his forehead. He even looked (dare you say it) quite nice. But maybe it was the poor lighting that made it seem that way.
“Anyways, it’s been about… two months now? I think they look pretty good together,” she mused, following your gaze.
Junmyeon must have said something funny — a rather loose use of the word by your standards — because Irene had her lovely face scrunched up in a laugh, the pitched sound of it ringing out clearly above the noise of the apartment. In her amusement, she even threw a hand out to slap him lightly on the arm, which he appeared very pleased by.
Sure, you laughed at his jokes too, but it was more out of corporate self-preservation than actual amusement.
“He kind of has been in a better mood recently,” Jungwoo said thoughtfully.
Joy grabbed his hand with fervour. “Yes, exactly! See? Thanks to my sacrifice, we can all enjoy a nicer, much more pleasant office environment.”
“I’d hardly call that a sacrifice,” you chuckled. “You take too much pleasure in playing matchmaker.” Joy’s response was nothing more than a guilty smile, followed by her emptying the rest of the glass.
It was then that you heard it — the deep, reverberating laugh that always bordered a little bit on breathlessness. It was slightly unnerving how quickly you could pinpoint the sound of his voice without even seeing him, or knowing that he had entered the room.
You turned around first, eyes drawn to the entry hallway in search of the face to which the laugh belonged. Of course he was going to be here. You knew that. He had said as much two days ago, bidding you farewell across the cafeteria table with a promise to ‘see you on the weekend at Joy’s’.
Lunch with Jaehyun had recently become a rarer occurrence. From what he told you, and the bits of information you gleaned from Joy about Digital, Johnny had pulled Jaehyun onto his team to try and get a firmer grip on the reins not even two weeks ago. Already, the intensity of the new workload was obvious.
You certainly saw him less, much to your disappointment — you could admit that to yourself now.
Jaehyun emerged from the hallway then, midway through another laugh with an arm slung around Doyoung’s shoulders. Funny, how all the other faces were so murky and hard to identify under the dim lighting. And yet, the shape of his dimpled smile was unmistakable to you, as bright as the beacon of a lighthouse on the midnight sea.
Doyoung scanned the room, catching sight of Joy with you and Jungwoo. He gestured at his girlfriend, and Jaehyun obediently turned in your direction, likely wanting to give his greetings to the birthday girl.
Your eyes locked, and your heart gave a woeful little squeeze in your chest.
“I’m just going to do a quick check on the drink inventory,” Doyoung said as they approached, “I’ll be right back. And please take care of my favourite guest.” With a final friendly pat on Jaehyun’s shoulder, he was off, ducking into the kitchen.
“Happy birthday!” Jaehyun beamed, arms circling around Joy in a hug which she enthusiastically returned. He grabbed Jungwoo’s hand, pulling him in for one of those man greetings. (Since when were they close?) Their apparent friendship was an unexpected development.
And then it was your turn. You wondered if it was as easy for others to find solace in a mere gaze as you did with Jaehyun. His eyes did not stray far, wandering around your face, something tender and comforting in his appraisal of your features. A hand came up to brush against your lower back, a gentle and quiet greeting against the excitement of the previous two. His lips pulled into a soft smile as he called your name in greeting.
“You two are ridiculous,” Joy scoffed.
You inhaled sharply. Was it really that easy to tell? The depth of your attachment?
“You planned this, right? I mean seriously, matching outfits?” she asked, gesturing at you and Jaehyun.
You blinked a few times, looking down blankly at yourself. The dark wash denim and white silk that you had picked out yesterday looked back at you familiarly. Then you glanced at Jaehyun, taking in his white t-shirt, half tucked into a pair of jeans that were exactly the same wash as yours.
The coordination was completely unintentional — you had no idea what you were going to wear tonight the last time you had spoken to him — but the look on Joy’s face told you there was no use in trying to convince her of the truth.
(You would’ve argued that the cowl neck of your white silk top elevated your outfit above Jaehyun’s plain white tee, but you digressed.)
“Okay. I’m done with this,” Jungwoo said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’m going to do what single people do, and that is to get a goddamn drink.”
“Me too, another bubbly,” Joy chimed, grasping onto Jungwoo’s arm as he turned to leave for the kitchen. “See my success rate? Let me set you up with someone. My hairdresser’s daughter went to Korea University Business School and graduated not too long ago.”
The rest of her appeal to play matchmaker for Jungwoo was swallowed up by the music and chatter of her guests. And then it was just you, and Jaehyun, and the thirty other people filling up the living room.
The two of you shared a glance before dissolving into a few light giggles.
“I do think I pull it off better,” you teased, giving Jaehyun another once-over. He was as handsome as always, the white cotton draped picturesquely across his lean frame while the dark jeans made his mile-long legs look even longer. He could wear a garbage bag and make it look couture.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he said with a crooked smile.
He raised his arm to reveal the denim jacket draped across his arm that you hadn’t noticed before, too busy making sad little googly eyes at him that you hoped other people couldn’t see. The jacket was coloured in the same wash as his jeans, and your own.
You gave a scandalised gasp. “No, a matching set? How am I supposed to beat that?”
“You can’t. You can only admit defeat to the double denim. I out-Justin-Timberlaked you.”
“Justin Timberlake is not a verb.”
He only grinned in response, teeth pearly and eyes sparkling as he took in the slight pout of your mouth.
“Whatever,” you conceded with a wave of your hand, though a smile crept its way onto your face. “You win. Let’s get something to drink.”
Jungwoo and Joy were nowhere to be found when the two of you made your way to the kitchen. What you did find was an impressive selection of bottles atop the marble counter, a selection that easily outdid the ones from your university days in both quality and variety.
At least one thing was the same. Green soju bottles were always a dependable presence.
“Shall we go for your favourite?” Jaehyun asked, holding up what looked to be a bottle of wine. You moved a little closer, peering at the label through his fingers.
“I do enjoy a good red,” you replied, accepting the glass he offered you with a quiet ‘thank you’. You took a small sip — because tonight, you felt no need to gulp down alcohol like a camel to ease your nerves — before adding, “Merlot is far from my favourite though.”
“Really?’ He raised an eyebrow. “I do seem to remember how you pretty much finished a whole bottle by yourself. At dinner, that time at the Italian place.”
You held back a wince at the recollection of that fated blind date. Of course he’d remember that. It would be hard to forget the way you all but sculled down three full glasses in the time it took him to finish one. A quick sideways glance revealed the slight upturn to the corners of his mouth, paired with a telling glint in his eyes. Jaehyun was teasing.
“It was honestly quite impressive,” he said, lips curling into a full-blown smile now.
“That was different,” you said. The next sip went down a little faster than you would have liked. “That was out of necessity.”
There was no way I could’ve made it through that night without alcohol in my system, you almost said, but caught yourself just in time.
A few seconds passed before either of you spoke again.
“Were you really upset to see me?”
Gone was the playful lilt to his voice. This question was asked softly, carefully, the sound of it so delicate you were afraid it would shatter in the air at your clumsy reply. Slowly, you turned to look at him, seeking the reassurance you were sure you could find in his eyes, but they had moved to the contents of his own glass. You followed their path, watching as he gave the liquid a few absent-minded swirls.
“Maybe. A little, I think,” you admitted. “I don’t know. There was a lot going on in my head that day. When I realised it was you.”
A pair of giggling women — Joy’s guests who you didn’t know — approached the counter, one of them tentatively reaching for something in front of you. Noticing her struggle, you shuffled slightly towards Jaehyun, trying to make some space around the counter. The one with her hand outstretched flashed you a grateful smile, which you politely returned, although with far less vigour.
Perhaps the bustling kitchen in the centre of all the foot traffic wasn’t the best place for a conversation like this.
There was some fussing with the bottle cap, or whatever it was that they couldn’t quite get to work, followed by a considerably clean pour for two people who were clearly not quite sober. Then they were gone, giggling the entire way out of the kitchen and freeing up the space around you.
If you wanted to, you could have stepped back and returned to your original spot before their arrival. Put some more distance between you and Jaehyun again. Not that you were seriously encroaching on his personal space, but it was enough for you to recognise the proximity.
Instead, you took the smallest of steps closer and placed a hand on his forearm. His eyes flitted down at the touch, taking in the way your fingers lay feather-light on his skin, just above the ridge of his wrist.
“I’m glad it was you,” you said. The words were true, but the honesty of them still tasted odd on your tongue, and you fought back a cringe. Jaehyun finally turned to meet your eyes, some semblance of hope, or maybe it was relief that coloured his expression. “And I’m glad we’re here, now,” you added.
You hoped he knew you weren’t talking about the far right corner of Joy’s kitchen.
Jaehyun smiled, and it was like the sun had finally risen up over the stark mountain peak, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. It was the kind of warmth you didn’t realise you craved until the full force of it spilled over you, washing away the blue and the cold.
“Me too,” he said softly.
Even if you hadn’t fallen victim to Joy’s schemes, you would like to think the two of you would still end up here, only via longer and slightly different routes. Perhaps an unexpected run-in in the lobby on a Tuesday morning, or the eventual and excruciatingly awkward introduction through Joy. Whatever it may have been, you’d like to think you would’ve found your way to each other again eventually.
Curiosity tickled your mind. “What about you?”
“Hmm?”
He was still smiling, the lines by his nose just visible, and he had his eyes on you, though there was a faraway look about them. Something about his gaze reminded you of the way you’d regard a painting, framed and hung up on a wall in some art museum — carefully examining the details of the brushstrokes against the canvas, yet all the while trying to hold the whole piece in your mind’s eye, and let it touch the surface of that primal emotion somewhere inside of you. The depth of his gaze was enough to make you self-conscious, and you quickly averted your eyes, taking another sip from your glass. It was a good excuse to school your features before you spoke again.
“How did you feel when you saw me? Were you upset?”
Jaehyun regarded his own glass wistfully. “Not exactly upset, no,” he began, though a movement in his peripheral had him trailing off.
Another of Joy’s guests had appeared, hovering beside the two of you with his eyes set on the bottle of whiskey directly in front of you. Politely, Jaehyun side-stepped away from the counter and wrapped a gentle hand around the bend of your elbow, guiding you out of the hectic buzz of the kitchen. It stayed there, warm and comforting, until you found your way back to the open space of the living room, and even then he was slow to let you go, fingertips lingering a just second too long before they retreated back to his side.
“I think I was surprised, more than anything,” he continued. “Didn’t really know what to expect, not that I was expecting much. I never even thought I’d get to see you again after university. Thought you were gone for good.”
He paused, one side of his mouth quirking up slightly. The movement was small, and you wondered if you were supposed to have caught it at all.
“You stood there, with your bag in one hand and your cardigan in the other, looking like you were waiting for me to spontaneously combust—”
“Okay, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“—and all I could think about was how you were even prettier than I remembered. And back then I already thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.”
At that, you were quiet. Whatever silly rebuttal or attempt to defend yourself died quickly on your tongue as you let his confession settle beneath your skin, warming it from the inside out. Jaehyun was not even one bit fazed, looking like he had just said something trivial about the weather, or stated some objective fact like ‘grass is green’. For him, honesty had never been the heavy, cumbersome challenge it was for you. Judging by the resigned smile on his face, he wasn’t expecting some grand response from you either, which was all the better, because god, what were you supposed to say to something like that?
“Oh, there you are,” came a voice from behind you, followed by a hand on your shoulder.
Joy’s timing was impeccable, as always.
“Sorry, this one is coming with me,” she said to Jaehyun, looping her arm around yours with half-drunken determination. “Us fifth-floors have some business to settle. With darts.”
Your eyes followed the direction of her outstretched arm, where sure enough, there was a dartboard hanging on the wall by the balcony. Jungwoo was there, standing obediently with his hands crossed in front of his stomach as he politely nodded along to whatever Junmyeon was animatedly saying. The beer bottle Jungwoo cradled, now forgotten, seemed more like an accessory than an actual beverage. He caught your eye and sent you a frantic look.
You whipped your head back to Jaehyun. “Please don’t let her take me.”
Surely, he could see the pleading, the desperation in your eyes.
Jaehyun, having witnessed the whole exchange between you and Jungwoo, only grinned. “It does sound like some serious business,” he said, cheeks dimpling. Joy made a noise of agreement and gave your arm a little tug.
“You’re more than welcome to come and spectate, Jaehyun,” she called out over her shoulder as she herded you towards her destination. His only response was a hearty laugh. You stared at him in despair as you were towed away by the birthday girl. Next time you’d invite his boss to the function.
The game of darts (or seven games, if you were being precise) was decidedly less awful than you had expected. Junmyeon had promised not to speak about work and by some miracle, actually stuck to his word. Maybe you even got to know the guy a little better, outside of his office habits like the specific order in which he drank his three teas everyday (yuja, then chamomile, and lastly peppermint). Like you, he was somewhat of a wine enthusiast, though his knowledge of French vineyards was far superior to yours.
By the third round, the game had clearly left your little work circle. Jaehyun joined in at one point, competitiveness getting the better of him. Doyoung tried his hand too, and he was honestly abysmal, but smiled the whole time and seemed to be enjoying himself, even if he had to pick the darts off the floor on every turn. Out of all the players over the course of the seven games, Junmyeon’s date Irene had been the most unexpected hidden card, scoring three bullseyes in a row.
Oh, to be a goddess and have perfect hand-eye coordination.
“You feeling okay?” you asked a rather blank-looking Jungwoo. His eyes were beginning to droop, and so was the rest of his body, long limbs sprawled out against the leather. You could swear he only had his initial bottle of beer and the two celebratory soju shots Joy had forced him to take (from which you were not exempt either), and yet here he was, half-asleep on the couch.
“Hmm,” was his eloquent reply.
The party was slowly drawing to a close, the living room much emptier now than it had been when you first walked in. Junmyeon and Irene had made their departure some twenty minutes ago, and there were only a handful of guests left, most of them getting ready to leave as well. Grown adults didn’t gamble with their sleep schedules.
Doyoung emerged from the hallway, running a hand through the mess of hair on top of his head, already tousled from the fifty or so times he had repeated the action throughout the night.
“Okay, she’s knocked out,” he sighed. On his face, you glimpsed the first sign of relief you had seen all night. “I don’t think she’s going to puke, but I left a bucket by the bed just in case.”
You flashed him a grateful smile. “Thank you for tonight. I can’t imagine it was easy having to wrangle all these people for so long.”
“Oh, it’s no big deal. As long as Joy’s happy and had a good time.”
Even though he was clearly exhausted, Doyoung smiled, and the fondness held within it felt like a private thing you shouldn’t have witnessed. Your mind went, now as it always did, to a certain dimpled smile.
“I’d better get this one home,” you said instead, gesturing at Jungwoo slumped on the couch. You turned towards the boy, patting his shoulder gently. “Come on, time to go.”
“Mmffh.”
Another brilliant and enlightening response.
The owner of your favourite dimpled smile stepped out from the bathroom to the sight of you struggling to get Jungwoo upright enough to loop an arm around your shoulders. The half-asleep boy was lean, but definitely heavier than he looked, or perhaps the few glasses of wine over the course of the night had sapped some of the strength from your body. Jaehyun was at your side in an instant, shouldering most of Jungwoo’s weight as the two of you dragged him to a standing position.
“I’ll come with you,” he said, no room for discussion in his tone. You had no mind to protest anyway.
Doyoung was already busying himself with clearing plates and glasses from the living area when Jaehyun bid him farewell. The guy seemed to have formulated a detailed plan of attack to get his apartment back to the no-doubt spotless state it had been prior to tonight.
“I sorted out most of the empty bottles so you should be able to just throw them out in the morning,” Jaehyun said over his shoulder. He crouched on the ground, guiding Jungwoo’s disobedient left foot into the correct shoe, carefully doing up the laces once both feet were inside their corresponding sneakers.
You tossed a glance back at Doyoung whizzing around the place like a Roomba, feeling a pang of guilt for not having done much to help him clean up. Even though you had been a much more gracious and tidy guest than other people in Joy’s company, you couldn’t help but feel like there was more you could’ve done, apart from babysitting a very not-sober Jungwoo and making sure he didn’t crack his head open on the corner of the coffee table.
“It’s fine,” Jaehyun said softly. You turned to look at him, half-surprised, and he only flashed you a small smile. “Doyoung likes to clean. I think he finds comfort in it.”
He was fluent as ever in your micro-expressions. Maybe one day you’d learn to stop being surprised by it.
The taxi back to Jungwoo’s place was shorter than you had expected. His head lolled between your shoulder and Jaehyun’s in the backseat, before finally finding a home in Jaehyun’s lap. Even when you finally tucked the younger boy safely into his own bed — after going to great lengths to extract his building code which involved a series of profuse apologies to his neighbours who you had mistakenly rung in the middle of the night — there was an impressive imprint on his right cheek that exactly matched the side seam on Jaehyun’s jeans. You could’ve sworn there was a small, wet patch of drool left behind on the denim, and you were sure Jaehyun himself had noticed it too, but he gave no indication of complaint.
“Are you far from here?” Jaehyun asked once the elevator had brought the both of you back down to Jungwoo’s lobby.
“I’m actually just a fifteen minute walk away,” you answered.
The invitation in your voice was silent, and you knew he would’ve accompanied you home even if you lived on the other side of the city. Still, some achingly pleasant emotion settled over you when you heard his footsteps fall in with yours against the pavement. He took his place between you and the open street, shielding you from the bustle of late night delivery bikes and club bound taxis.
Though the days still resembled summer, nights were when the beginnings of autumn could reveal itself. The slight chill in the air was not unbearable, but still noticeable against your bare arms, and just enough for goosebumps to spring up on the skin there. Before you could even bring your hands up to wrap them around yourself, Jaehyun shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, drawing the collar close around your neck. The stiff denim was a little rough, but warm from his body heat all the same, with faint traces of his woody scent lingering on the fabric.
Jaehyun thrust his hands in his pockets and grinned. “Now you out-Justin-Timberlake me.”
“Still not a real word.”
You supposed there was something about night-time that made it feel all the more forgiving to the emotional afflictions of the human condition. Perhaps it was only against the muted palette of the midnight blue sky and the dimly lit city streets that you felt brave enough to face the truth of your feelings, without agonising over the consequences of acknowledging them. Even so, you found yourself wishing the night would stretch on for just a little longer. Honesty always seemed to wear off faster than it came on.
“You’ve been crazy busy lately.”
Jaehyun’s responding laugh contained little amusement. “Crazy busy is one way to put it. I can’t believe Johnny has had to deal with all of this the whole time. This client is so,” he paused, trying to find the right word, before finally settling on “demanding.” The look in his eyes gave you the feeling there were many other more colourful adjectives he wanted to use instead.
The two of you passed the convenience store corner of your street. Your place was not too far up ahead, the glass building doors almost visible if you squinted. The night was coming to an end, and something cold and heavy settled in your chest to accompany the realisation.
“They want us in New York working on the new client site as soon as possible, so we’ve been running around trying to get visas and everything sorted,” he sighed.
Your footsteps faltered.
“You’re going to New York?” you asked.
He nodded.
“When?”
“Within the next week, if everything comes back approved.”
You hadn’t even noticed that you had come to a standstill until Jaehyun’s footsteps also slowed to a stop. The both of you stood like that, under the dim glow from the streetlights, in the middle of the sidewalk.
“We’ll probably be there until the end of the year, at least until the design piece is done,” he said.
Did your face betray the sudden drop of your stomach? Did the sound of a fissure cracking through your chest escape through the slight parting of your lips?
It was silly, really. That one small piece of information could turn your entire world on its head. International travel on a project wasn’t a rare occurrence. And you supposed you would’ve found out sooner or later, even if he hadn’t told you, because he had no obligation to update you about every development in his life, even if they involved crossing continents. Even if you wanted to know every little detail.
Jaehyun’s eyes moved from his shoes to your face. The shadows cast by the streetlights made it hard to decipher his expression, but you thought there was a pleading look to his handsome face. What he was pleading for, you weren’t entirely sure.
You cleared your throat and finally found your voice again. “That’s really exciting, Jaehyun,” you managed, trying to keep your tone light. “I hear New York is gorgeous this time of year.”
The smile you pasted on your face was a flimsy one, and you could feel your top lip begin to tremble when he didn’t quite return it. Before it could turn into a grimace, you let the corners of your mouth fall. There had never been any use in putting on an act in front of him. Unsure what else to say without sounding insincere — though you were excited for him, truly, this little fit of sadness was a silly thing that would pass surely and quickly — you turned and resumed your steps towards your apartment.
Another few minutes and you’d be in the safety of your own home. Free to let your top lip tremble and quiver, and let the inexplicable lump in your throat force its way out, rather than try to swallow it down.
It only took a few steps for you to realise that Jaehyun had not followed. You looked over your shoulder to find him standing there by the streetlight, eyes fixed on the ground again.
“I don’t want to go,” he said, toeing at a crack in the concrete. “If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t. I don’t want to leave…”
You.
He may not have said that last word, but you heard it all the same. Your chest squeezed with emotion you couldn’t quite place.
“But you have to,” you said softly. A gentle breeze blew through the early autumn air and you briefly wondered if your words had been carried adrift.
He looked up at you then, eyes burning into yours with unspoken sentiments. A thousand words were conveyed with that one look, those few seconds in which you understood everything he wanted to say, and nothing he wanted to say, because he hadn’t said much at all. Just like how he could read your emotions with a simple glance at your face, you saw his reluctance. You saw the irresolution in his resolve, and how it wavered as he turned over in his mind the things he wanted to say to you, and how much of his heart he was willing to risk.
“But I have to,” he agreed.
Jaehyun still knew you inside out, yes, but you knew him too.
Your feet dragged over the last few hundred metres to your apartment complex, until you finally reached the door and there was nothing left you could do to delay the inevitable.
“Here,” you said, handing his jacket back to him. “Thank you for walking me home.”
He took it from your outstretched hand, fingers just brushing your knuckles. “Of course.”
And maybe Jaehyun was just as unwilling to let you go. His feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete pavement in front of your building, even though you were pretty sure no harm would befall you across the five steps into the lobby. The two of you stood there for a while, neither quite knowing what to say, or how to ward off the odd melancholy you knew he felt too.
There were so few guarantees of forever in life. You knew that. And even if you had never really gotten him back in the first place, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing him again. Except this time, he wouldn’t just be a 67-minute subway ride away. This time, he’d be a 14-hour flight away, on the other side of not the city but the world, with 7,000 miles and the entire Pacific Ocean separating you.
And yes, he’d come back eventually, but who could promise that the feelings between the two of you now would be the same upon his return? You knew that you were in no position to demand he refrain from exploring other romantic pursuits, to deter him from making new connections in the diverse metropolis that was New York City, and all the excitement and energy that came with it.
You had unknowingly gotten in the way of that once.
“Well, I’d better get inside,” you said quietly, gesturing at the building behind you. Jaehyun only nodded.
This was it. All things must come to an end, you thought as you walked up to the lobby door. Even if they never really started. Perhaps you and your hesitance to let him in had played the biggest part of all, and whatever it was between you and Jaehyun wouldn’t be ending before it began if you had only been more forgiving at the start. Less pointy and disagreeable. Perhaps then you would be parting now on more certain terms, and you’d carry some peace of mind knowing he’d be coming back to you, instead of the crushing weight of disappointment currently lodged underneath your sternum.
And yet, what difference did it make? You’d be losing him anyway, no matter what you did. In two weeks’ time, he’d be sitting in a conference room on a different continent, regardless of whether you said nothing or cussed him out to his face right now.
Your hand froze on the steel handle for only a second before you turned around to face him again. Three determined strides was all it took to close the distance between you.
“What is it?” he asked.
There had been few occasions where you had seen Jaehyun drunk, or at least not sober, in the years you had known him. Your split early on in university had not afforded you many chances to witness his supposedly high tolerance in action at weekend benders. Nothing more than a few underage sips snuck from his dad’s glass at the dinner table. You took a second now to look at him, really look at him, taking in all the details of the face you knew almost as well as your own.
Pink. Everything about him was so pink, from the slight tinge around the whites of his eyes, to the lingering flush in the apples of his cheeks.
To the pretty colour of his soft, full lips.
They parted with confusion when you approached. Carefully, you reached out a hand and placed it against his cheek, feeling the way he leaned into your touch almost immediately. His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of moments before they were searching your face again, almost fervently.
“I just…” you whispered, trying to commit this picture of him to memory.
What difference did it make?
It was hard to tell who moved first. You’d like to believe it didn’t matter.
The rhythm of your lips against his was unfamiliar at first, clumsy from years of disuse. Through slow and careful movements, you reacquainted yourself with the shape of Jaehyun’s mouth, the pillowy swell of his bottom lip as it gently slid in between your own. It fit there perfectly, like it always did. His hands came up to graze the curve of your waist, resting lightly on your skin as if he was afraid you’d crumble like sand in his grasp.
You tilted your head, parting your mouth ever so slightly to let the tip of your tongue brush against the underside of his top lip. The kiss changed immediately. You felt his surprise in the small puff of air that escaped through his nose and landed softly against your cheek. His fingers gripped at you with a newfound strength, pulling you flush against him. Even through the fabric of your shirts, the outline of his toned chest was unmistakable. Your hands found their home in the softness of hair at the nape of his neck, revelling in the throaty sound that left him as you ran your hands through it.
How had you denied yourself of this for so long?
Jaehyun must have pulled away first, because suddenly you could breathe again, shaky gasps coming in and out through your mouth. He fared no better, pressing his forehead gently against yours while he tried to catch his breath.
You couldn’t think. You felt electrified, as if every nerve ending in your body was simultaneously firing, as if your blood was laced with dynamite. Hell, you had half a mind to invite him up to your room and finish off what you had so brazenly started.
“It’s late,” he finally managed, voice rough. “You should head in.” His hands, however, stayed firmly in place around your waist. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with each swallow.
Right. Perhaps it was best to let the night end here, before you could do anything else that you might regret.
“Yeah, I should probably,” you murmured, catching the way his eyes followed each movement of your mouth as you spoke. The sound of your voice seemed to break the daze he was in, and you felt his grip on you loosen, slowly and reluctantly. The arms you had looped around his neck made their way back to your sides. You were released from his warmth far too quickly.
Impulsive decisions (like inviting your ex-boyfriend to spend the night in your one-bedroom apartment with nowhere to sleep except in your bed) seldom ended well. You should’ve known better than to make those rookie mistakes.
You had barely turned around to walk up to your building doors when Jaehyun wrapped a warm hand around your wrist and pulled you back into him. He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing the small noise of surprise that left your mouth. This time, his kiss was softer, surer, and in it you tasted the sweetness of unspoken promises he was determined to keep.
“I’ll see you when I get back,” he said, dark eyes fixed on you with conviction. Your lip colour had smudged by the side of his mouth, leaving behind a faint pink stain that only added to the pretty hue of his now kiss-swollen lips.
He was still the most gorgeous person you had ever seen.
“See you when you’re back, then,” you echoed.
Some odd emotion, neither happy nor sad, settled in your chest as you pushed open the door to the emptiness of your home. You had rushed to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun before he left, only to find he had gone already, and the sidewalk outside your building was as vacant as to be expected for this hour of the night.
No matter. You’d wait for him to come back.
“One more prosecco before he disappears to the bathroom for the rest of the night.”
You cast a glance at the catering table and clicked your tongue against your teeth.
“Half a prosecco,” you concluded, taking a sip from your own glass.
Joy raised a shapely eyebrow at you. “You know it doesn’t hit until at least twenty minutes after he gets the munchies.”
“True, but he specifically told me he skipped lunch today so it would hit earlier, and he’d have the energy to mingle.”
“Well,” she shrugged, “I guess that’d do it.”
The two of you turned your gazes back to the catering table, where Jungwoo was doing some serious damage to the salmon ceviche tostadas. The glass in his hand was empty, and you watched as he asked for a refill from one of the waitstaff.
“Someone should really stop him,” Joy sighed. “Before we get a repeat of last year.”
“Someone should,” you agreed.
Neither of you made a move.
As far as year-end wrap-up events went, this one wasn’t too bad, even if it was your first at the company. This year, HR had managed to book one of the smaller function rooms at an upscale hotel, with an open bar and hors d’oeuvres menu to match. It was a nice chance to celebrate the year’s achievements, and get to know the other people in the department a little better. Already a year in this place, and you’d be lying if you said you knew the name of every person on your floor.
September to November had flown by in a blur. Recruitment for the company’s graduate program next year had been an intensive few months of screening, interviewing, reviewing, and then interviewing again. As hectic as it had been, the fruits of your team’s efforts had been warmly recognised with smiles and praises from the senior managers and higher-ups you’d had the chance to speak with tonight.
Traditionally, each department hosted their own event, though from what you gathered, HR and Marketing were the only ones that put in any real effort. While HR liked to keep things classy, Marketing liked to go all out.
“Do you think it’s true that Marketing rented out a yacht this year?” you asked. Surely their budget wasn’t that excessive.
Joy made a face. “God, I hope not. It’s the middle of December. I’d be surprised if the Han River wasn’t all frozen over.”
Winter had come early this year, sinking its cold fingers into November and staking its claim. Yet, there had been no snow, even though it was only a few days out from the holidays. Though it was nice that your clothes stayed relatively dry all day from the lack of precipitation, you couldn’t help but miss the sight of the city covered in a blanket of white softness.
“There he goes,” Joy said, nudging your arm. You turned to see Jungwoo excuse himself from the conversation, setting down a barely-touched glass on the tablecloth. He made a beeline for the men’s restrooms, or as close to a beeline as he could manage in his current state, face flushed and a little queasy.
It was a good thing the company’s holiday closure started tomorrow.
“Okay, you win. Want to come and get a refill with me?” she asked. “We can say hi to a few of the directors over there.”
The thought of having to network with more seniors, when you had already spent the last hour and a half donning bright smiles and laughing politely at their lacklustre jokes, was not a pleasant one. You knew it would be a good thing for you to go and introduce yourself, but your battery for social interaction had long since been depleted. Perhaps you should’ve taken a page out of Jungwoo’s book.
Still, you flashed Joy a grateful smile. “You go ahead. I might grab some air, actually.”
“Okay,” she replied, eyes warm with understanding. “But make sure you put your coat on. It’s freezing out there.”
She was right, of course. The toasty interior of the function room was a completely different world from the frigid gust of wind that greeted you as soon as you pulled the sliding door open. An upscale hotel needed to have a matching upscale view of the city. You leaned against the balcony railing, blocking out the icy sting of the metal against your hands, and took in the sight of the not-quite-frozen Han River below, and the sparkling Seoul Tower further away on the skyline.
You’d only be out here for a little bit, you told yourself. Just a few minutes, and then you’d head home.
Truthfully, you could have left half an hour ago when your reserves for socialising had just run out, and be within the warm and familiar confines of your own bed right now, doom-scrolling to your heart’s content. But these days, the solitude of your apartment that you had once found comforting had evolved into a loneliness that you’d rather avoid.
The empty echoes of your own footsteps across the tiled floors didn’t bounce against the walls like deep laughter did.
Absent-mindedly, you thumbed at the pendant sitting at the hollow of your throat. You had turned your jewellery box inside out, almost fully convinced that you had lost the thing entirely until you finally spotted the milky pearl set in white gold, underneath all the other chains. It was gorgeous when you had first opened the velvet box all those years ago, and it still was now, even if you hadn’t seen it for quite some time. Jaehyun always had an eye for beautiful things.
You weren’t the only one who endured a few packed and chaotic months. Johnny’s team had flown out of the country the Wednesday after Joy’s birthday and had been sequestered in New York ever since. Between your swamped schedules and the 14 hour time difference, conversations with Jaehyun were intermittent at best, and sparse and uncoordinated at worst. Sometimes he’d message with silly little things, like the time he sent you a picture of a doll sitting in the window of an antique shop.
this reminded me of you, the accompanying text had said.
He was due back soon, and there was still much left to be said, but above all, you only hoped that he was well, and that the New York winter was much more forgiving than it was here at home.
The cloudy wisps of air formed by your breath floated upwards before they dissipated into the night sky. No wonder the balcony was empty — who would want to be out here when there were mozzarella stuffed mushrooms and central heating on the other side of the glass?
You heard the doors slide open behind you as someone else equally as crazy decided to step out into the cold. Just as well. It was time for you to head back anyways. You turned to make your way inside, only to freeze in your tracks.
“They told me I’d find you out here. You really know how to pick a spot, huh?”
A soft gasp left your mouth.
“Jaehyun?”
He gave you a smile, your favourite smile, where his dimples were only just visible, and there was the hint of a pout to the shape of his lips. He was here, and he was in front of you, looking at you like you were the most wonderful thing in the world that he would ever have the good fortune of knowing. Your chest swelled almost painfully at the sight of him.
“When did you get back? How did you even get in here?”
“We landed in Incheon earlier this afternoon. I had to pay the door guy outside a hundred bucks for him to let me in.”
Your eyes widened. “He can’t make you do that!”
“Just kidding,” Jaehyun chuckled. “I only had to show him my company ID.”
He walked over to where you stood by the railing and rested his arms against the metal. His profile was sharp against the darkness of the night sky, and you took a moment to study the details while he took in the view.
“Are you tired?” you asked. “It can’t be easy adjusting to the time difference.”
“A little,” he admitted. The bags under his eyes were dark and purple now that you could see his face up close. He must have been exhausted. Nobody ever slept well on long haul flights. “You should see Johnny though. He would have come tonight, but jet lag is seriously kicking his ass.”
You shared a laugh, traces of your breaths mingling in the air. Beside him, you settled back into your original spot, mirroring the way he leaned against the metal railing. Jaehyun was close, but not too close, your elbows only a few centimetres apart. A mellow silence settled over the balcony as you gazed out at the river, watching the never-ending stream of cars as they circled the waterfront.
With even this, you were content. His mere presence next to you was a remedy in itself, regardless of the words shared or touches exchanged. You felt more at home in this moment now than you had in over 3 months.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, still gazing out into the distance. The gravity in his voice hinted at circumstances beyond the recent season he had spent on the other side of the world. And yet, he had said it so simply, as if the words were an immovable truth that would withstand the corrosion of time.
“I’ve missed you too,” you replied.
Maybe it was just that simple, because it was the truth. The nights weathered away in your own apartment were only lonely because there had been an absence of him, an absence that was known to you, even if you had not felt it for many years.
He turned to you, taking in a shaky breath. “I should never have let you go.”
“Oh, Jaehyun—”
“I was young, and foolish, and I thought I knew what I wanted. And I had you, but I thought I wanted more, because I wanted everything. I wanted the whole damn world.”
Something sharp pricked behind your eyes as you listened to the honesty pouring out of him.
“And then I lost you, and it was—god, it was… like someone had sucked all the colour out of my life. And I had no one to blame, because I was the one who did that to myself. To us.”
It was so hard to not notice the pain etched into his beautiful features. The tight set of his jaw. The redness that rimmed his eyes. Your fingers ached to reach over and smooth out the crease between his brows.
“There were so many things I could have done to make things right between us again. Even if you wouldn’t have me back. But my pride, and my ego… I did nothing—”
“You can’t pin it all on yourself, Jaehyun,” you said, shaking your head. “I had no idea what I wanted. And even when I did, I never acted—I never stood up for myself. I could’ve fought for us, but I didn’t. I just accepted everything. Hell, I never even told you how I felt.”
You flashed him a watery smile. “We needed the time away from each other, don’t you think?”
There was a moment where the two of you simply stared at each other. A hurricane of repressed emotions swirled in your chest, finally breaking the surface five years on. Jaehyun must have felt the same, reliving all those memories now. You could see it on his face.
Youth was so beautiful, and precious — even the heartbreak, and all the other foolish things that came along with it.
“I let you go once, and maybe that was meant to happen.” He took a step closer. “But we’re not dumb teenagers anymore. I’m not… I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
His eyes locked on yours as he gazed at you with reverence. “Don’t you still feel the same? Even after all these years?”
I do, you wanted to say.
You would have too, if it weren’t for the small speck of white that landed in Jaehyun’s dark hair. It was visible for only a few seconds before melting away. You looked up and sure enough, the night sky was dotted with white.
“First snow,” you breathed, watching as the snowflakes fell from the sky. “Do you know what that means?”
Jaehyun gave you a small shake of his head. Of course. He never believed in superstitions.
You reached for his hand, feeling his fingers respond to yours immediately. He was so warm, and his touch breathed life back into your frozen body.
“If you see the first snow with someone you love, it means that your love will be true and long-lasting.”
A few seconds passed as he took in your words, trying to make sense of them.
“You… love me?”
“I do,” you admitted. A teardrop finally spilled out from your waterline, leaving behind a wet track on your cheek that stung in the cold. “Even when I thought I hated you, deep down, I think I still loved you.”
One of his hands came up to wipe away the trail of moisture from the escaped tear. The action sent a shiver through your entire body.
“I never stopped loving you,” he confessed softly, stroking your cheek. You felt it then, that deep, aching feeling that had threaded itself into the very marrow of your bones.
Longing. You longed for his presence, his smile, his touch. You longed to hold his heart in your hands again, and give him yours in exchange. You had missed him more than you could bear, and here he was, telling you his heart was where it had always been, sitting in the centre of your palm.
Perfect moments didn’t exist, but damn did this one come close.
“Come here,” Jaehyun whispered, pulling you into him.
His mouth was just as sweet as you remembered. His lips were a little rougher, slightly chapped from the cold. His kiss was slow and patient, taking his time to explore the shape of your mouth and mould to it again. You felt his smile, the slight tension in his bottom lip giving him away, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, a quiet giggle bubbling in your chest before escaping through your lips.
“I really fucking missed you,” you mumbled against his mouth, another giggle accompanying the words. “You kissed me and then you were on a plane to the other side of the world.”
“I told you I’d see you when I was back, didn’t I?” he reminded, giving your waist a small squeeze. “And for the record, you kissed me. Not that it matters.”
You swatted a hand against his chest. “I see you still care too much about technicalities.”
Jaehyun only laughed, that deep and familiar sound you had craved to hear for the last 3 months. He pulled your hands into his warm ones, and pressed his lips to your knuckles.
“Your hands are cold,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around yours.
“Well, I was about to head back inside when you found me. It’s nice and toasty in there.”
“Do you want to go in now?”
You looped your arms around his neck and buried your head into the crook of it. “Let’s just stay out here for a little bit longer,” you said, words muffled by the fabric of his coat. “You always run hot in the colder months anyways. Enough to keep me warm.”
He hummed in agreement, holding you flush against him as the snow fell around you. In his arms, you were the most at ease you had been in years, and the thought was almost enough to bring a fresh new wave of moisture to your eyes.
“What is that—something’s digging in,” he suddenly said, pulling away from you. His eyes landed on the pendant that had slipped out from underneath the lapels of your coat. Wordlessly, he reached for it, running his thumb across the pale pearl that hung from your neck.
“You kept this?”
“Of course,” you answered. “You kept yours.”
He smiled, a big one, dimples marking his cheeks. “Of course,” he repeated.
“We’re lucky, aren’t we? To have found each other again after all this time?”
Jaehyun’s reply took the form of another sweet and unhurried kiss. It warmed you from the inside out, all the way down to the tips of your toes.
“So we’re really doing this, right?” he asked. “We’re giving us a second chance?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you said all that earlier just for shits and giggles?”
“Of course not,” he chuckled, squeezing your sides again. “I just wanted to make sure. I think I might lose faith in the world if you tell me you don’t want to be with me.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” you reassured. The snow was sticking to his hair, and you took a second to run your hands through it, brushing off the half-melted pieces. His eyes fondly followed your every movement.
“Good, because I plan on keeping you for a long time.”
You returned inside shortly after. The snow had picked up and it was clear that you couldn’t stay out for much longer (unless you wanted hypothermia, which neither of you did). The function hall was much emptier now than it had been when you stepped out, and of the remaining faces, none of them were familiar.
A quick glance at your phone showed a few unread messages from Joy.
joy [08:32 pm]: hey, had to leave, doyoung’s still working tomorrow so it’s an early night for me joy [08:33 pm]: hope you and jaehyun work things out joy [08:33 pm]: i’m rooting for you guys!!
joy [08:37 pm]: also can you see if jungwoo is okay joy [08:38 pm]: i don’t think he’s come out yet
“Can I ask a favour, just before we go?”
Jaehyun smiled back at you sweetly, devotion written in his eyes. “Anything.”
“Pop into the men’s room and check if Jungwoo’s still alive?”
Life was a funny thing.
“There are so few things in life that are guaranteed. Death, for one, and taxes, for another. Sorry if that was a bit dark and killed the mood. You can laugh, by the way. But I think everyone here would agree, neither of those two are all that conducive to happiness.”
Roundabout.
“So when the girl you’ve been chasing, for what feels like an eternity, finally gives you a second chance, you absolutely cannot take it for granted. You grab onto that chance with both hands, and even your teeth if you have to. It’s no guarantee for happiness, but it’s your best bet.”
Unpredictable.
“I’m not a God-fearing man, but I’m a God-believing man. I thank God everyday for bringing such a magnificent woman into my life.”
He raised his glass.
“Joy, you make me the happiest person in the world, and I can’t wait to be married to you.”
The crowd broke into warm applause as Doyoung finished off his impromptu speech by planting a kiss on his bride-to-be.
“He’s so good at talking,” you mused, wrapping your arm around Jaehyun’s. “If that’s his toast for this, I wonder what his vows will be like.”
A year ago, you would never have believed that you’d be attending your co-worker’s engagement party, much less with your ex-boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years. Spring had well and truly arrived, and with it came promises of love and new beginnings. The last rays of the April afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of the riverside art centre. The venue was gorgeous, floating on the edge of the river with unobstructed views of the skyline and where it met the water — as always, Joy knew how to pick a spot.
“I didn’t know she rejected him before they got together. He must have really liked her.”
Jaehyun gave you a crooked smile. “Four years of university, and he never gave up. Even when she started dating that blockhead from liberal arts.”
“I bet he would’ve felt like the luckiest guy in the world when she finally said yes to a date,” you said, watching as the happy couple shared a moment, giggling about something nobody else was privy to. Jaehyun followed your gaze and made a small noise of agreement.
“Not as lucky as I am to have found you again.”
He ran his thumb across your knuckles. You could’ve sworn there was stardust sprinkled into those pretty brown eyes of his.
Life was a funny thing, for sure. It had a funny way of bringing back things you once thought you had lost forever. You knew now that you had to seize them before they passed by. Who knew if they’d ever turn up again?
“Okay, that’s enough.”
Jungwoo set his glass down on the table with a loud thunk, lightly startling you.
“I’m right here. You guys know that, right? I am right in front of you.”
A sheepish smile was thrown his way. “Sorry.” You patted his hand once, softly. “Your time will come, I’m sure of it,” you reassured. “How did the date with the KU Business girl go?”
“I flaked,” Jungwoo said simply.
“No! Why?”
He sighed. “Blind dates are really not my thing. It’s too awkward. And it feels so superficial. Like, what if you have nothing in common, or there’s no physical attraction, or—”
Jungwoo paused, cutting himself off. “Actually, I’m not talking about this with you people. I’m going to get another drink.” With that, he turned and headed straight for the cocktail bar. You and Jaehyun gazed at him from behind as he walked off.
“I’m gonna be babysitting him again tonight, aren’t I?” Jaehyun asked, the question directed at nobody in particular.
“People are going to start wondering if you’re dating me or him.”
His mouth curled into a smirk. “Should I give them a reminder?”
“My boss is standing right over there, so no.”
Junmyeon and Irene were still going steady, to your surprise. You’d probably be seeing more and more of him, since Joy and the rest of the Parks genuinely treated Irene like one of their own. The thought wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but not awful either. Maybe you were warming up to him.
“Also, you should probably be careful about who you call blockhead,” you said to Jaehyun, holding back a smile.
He fixed you with a suspicious stare. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know,” you trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his head. The smile broke through, your cheeks lifting as you tried to keep the laughter from coming out. He, on the other hand, was thoroughly unimpressed.
“You should really watch your mouth,” he said lowly, though he was smiling. There was a look in his eyes that sent a jolt straight to the pit of your stomach.
“Or what?”
His hands were all over you before you even made it through the door.
“My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy girlfriend,” he mumbled, peppering your neck with kisses between each adjective. The keypad finally beeped and you pushed down on the handle, letting the door swing open as you pulled him in by the collar.
“Stop talking and just kiss me,” you sighed, dragging his face back up to yours. He was all too eager to comply, mouth slotting over yours with practised ease. His tongue brushed along yours in the way he knew you liked, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure. Fire licked at your insides as he drew a light moan from you.
Four months in, the second time around, and everything with Jaehyun was still electrifying.
Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally succeeding with undoing the top one after a few tries. Hands came up around the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto his kitchen countertop. The marble was cool to the touch, and you felt it through the silk of your dress, a soft gasp of surprise flying from your mouth into his awaiting one.
“Been wanting to do this all day, ever since you put this thing on,” Jaehyun rasped. The heat of his body radiated into you from where he stood between your parted legs. He was so warm up against you, and he smelled so good, you were positively light-headed with desire.
His mouth ghosted over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “You look so fucking good,” he said, teeth gently grazing the skin of your neck. “My pretty girl.” The quick press of his hips into yours pulled another moan out of you, and you braced a hand against the marble countertop.
Your fingers knocked against the edge of something sharp and sent it tumbling to the floor, where it landed with a heavier thud than you were expecting.
“What was that?” you forced out in between gasps. Jaehyun’s teeth nipped at your collarbone, showing no signs of letting up. “Wait, Jae, something fell on the floor.”
You had smashed a mug in your apartment in the midst of it once. Better safe than sorry.
Reluctantly, Jaehyun detached himself from you and bent down to retrieve the fallen item. He was breathing hard as he picked up a thick, padded envelope, and flipped it over to read the details.
“Photos,” he finally managed, tossing the package back onto the counter. “We can look at them later.”
His mouth was on you again, working at the spot between your neck and shoulder that always had your knees weak and toes curling.
“Wait,” you giggled, “my film photos? I want to see.” He had sent the camera off almost two weeks ago, and you had been (im)patiently waiting for the developed pictures to be sent back.
Jaehyun looked up at you with hooded eyes. “Really? You want to look at them now?”
You nodded.
A beat passed before his face broke into a lazy smile.
“Okay,” he chuckled softly, reaching for the envelope again.
There was a good stack in there. The ones on top were more recent, with a few shots from his birthday that had recently passed. You had taken him ice skating at the outdoor rink atop Namsan Mountain. The twinkling lights that hung from the trees surrounding the rink were still beautiful, even through photos. Jaehyun was good at so many things that it was unfair — how could he be so talented and have a face like that? — but on that day, you discovered that ice skating was not one of his strengths, and the bruises on his tailbone could attest to that.
“The colouring on these is really nice,” you murmured, flicking through the photos.
He hummed. “They are. This place doesn’t over-saturate the images, which is why I like them.”
A few more pictures from Christmas, where the two of you had set up a pillow fort — it had always been a childhood dream of yours — and stayed in watching movies for three whole days because it was too cold to do anything that required leaving the house. Funnily enough though, you had spent New Year’s Eve out in the cold with a few thousand others, waiting for the annual fireworks. There were a few shots of those as well.
You neared the bottom of the stack, recognising the blur of colours that formed the crowd of the jazz festival from last year.
“All of these are out of focus,” you complained, a pout adorning your lips. The shots of the stage, of the artists, even the one of Jaehyun and the cute face he made trying to fit the burger in his mouth. Only the two pictures of you were crisply defined, because he had taken them.
You flipped to the last photo. It was the one you took at the end of the show, during the closing bars of Lauv’s set. Miraculously, this one was in focus. You could see the press of your cheek against Jaehyun’s, and the slight surprise in his eyes as you had clicked the shutter. Lauv was nowhere to be seen, but maybe a clear shot of him as well would have been asking for too much.
“Can I say something cheesy?” Jaehyun asked softly.
“You’ll say it anyway.”
“I really wanted to kiss you. On this day.”
Strange, that it was these words which brought heat to your cheeks. Surely there were other things that would be more appropriate to blush about, instead of a months-late admission that was degrees more innocent than your current situation, where Jaehyun’s shirt was half undone, and the fabric of your dress was bunched up around your hips.
“I wanted to kiss you right there, in the crowd. And then I wanted to kiss you again, here, when you made that stupid ramen joke. And when you had that chilli flake stuck on the corner of your mouth.”
You set the last photo down on the counter and turned back to Jaehyun, who was still standing between your knees.
“And how about now?” you asked, the corners of your mouth lifting in a teasing smile.
He cradled your chin, tilting your face towards his, and let the pad of his thumb brush over the swell of your bottom lip.
“I think you already know the answer to that.”
The crescent moon was high and luminescent in the sky when you caught your breath again, the last few waves of euphoria ebbing away through your body. Jaehyun always indulged you.
Maybe a little too much.
You turned to him, nestling your face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of soap and his skin. A finger lazily traced over the ridges of his stomach.
“That tickles,” he mumbled into your hair. It must’ve still been damp from the shower, but he didn’t seem to mind. Fatigue was already tugging away at him.
“Do you want me to stop?” you asked softly, looking up at him.
He shook his head, just slightly. “I like knowing you’re there.”
You resumed your movements, but it was only a few seconds before Jaehyun was shifting, soft laughs filling the intimate space of his bedroom.
“That really does tickle,” he said, smile threaded into his voice. One of his hands reached for yours, pulling it up to rest against his chest. The gentle press of his lips on your forehead was a delicate thing.
You fell asleep like that, feeling the steady beat of his heart, quiet and sure beneath your fingertips. It was warm in his hold, and safe. There was no other home you needed to know.
#jaehyun#nct jaehyun#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun angst#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun smut#jaehyun fic#nct 127#nct 127 x reader#jeong jaehyun#nct jaehyun x reader#nct x reader#nct 127 fanfic#kaleidohscopic works
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hii omg out of curiosity... could u do a scara with a bratty virgin reader who teases him too much thinking she can get away with it. if that suits ur tastes that is 😊😊
Of course! I may not fit the entire idea of a brat myself, but I've been told I can act a little cunty now and then so I think I can do this one fairly well.
Scaramouche was just another annoying superior you had to obey. All the harbingers were pretty much the same in the aspect that they viewed YOU as lesser than. Which technically you were by law of Snezhnaya but that wasn't YOUR fault. You were only stuck working as a subordinate for the height deficient harbinger called The Balladeer because your stupid slut mother had gambled away a HUGE loan while she was pregnant with you and instead of taking responsibility, she fled the country and hadn't been seen since you were like 6.
But the fatui weren't just going to forgive a debt that large simply because of a disappearance. No.
A group of fatuus soldiers had knocked on your grandparents door one day, led by Scaramouche. They were given three options.
1: Pay off their daughter's debts.
2: Die.
Or three...
"Give the oldest girl over and have her work it off in her mother's name." Was what the pretty faced yet slick tongued bastard had said.
Your grandparents had recently been put in charge of your half brother too as authorities had taken him from your mother's home due to excessive drug use on her part. He was just a little kid, barely 4. YOU on the other hand were now a young lady. A young adult.
He needed your grandparents.
You had had a wonderful childhood already.
And so you bowed your head and agreed to go back with The Balladeer and his cronies to the fatui headquarters and officially join the ranks.
It wasn't that bad actually. Scaramouche didn't actually seem to care or not if you didn't do your job. But you were clearly the only exception as you often watched him treat others with a cruelty that bordered on ruthlessness.
Not that it was your problem.
You often sauntered into his office late at night to chat with him. Not that he ever stopped you.
"Hey Scara what's up? Ugh you really should get better lighting here. It looks so ominous!" You bitched as you hopped up onto the edge of his rather grand looking desk and looked down at him while he worked.
"Hey let's hang out for a bit! That stuff is just boring work things anyway! I never do mine!"
He grunts.
"I know."
You pouted as you tried to scoot a little closer to him.
"ugh you're so lame today! And here I thought a harbinger as mighty as yourself could multi-task easily! It appears I was mistaken!"
Scaramouche rolled his eyes at your behavior.
"leave. I'm busy right now."
You were feeling agitated now.
"no! I've been waiting all day to hang out and now you're ignoring me!?" You turn completely around so your legs fell over on his side of the desk now. Crossing my arms as I stubbornly stand my ground.
"I'm not moving until you at least look at me you stupid meanie!" You whined.
The pen in Scaramouche's hands suddenly snapped in half. Ink splashing across the tabletop caught your attention.
"I said leave."
"make me!* You stick out your tongue and pout even more at his tone.
"it's not like you're actually gonna punish me for being here like anyone else! Stop being such a big meanie!"
Suddenly his hand was around your throat.
"Is that what you tell yourself bitch? How amusing." He squeezed your neck. Just enough to make you dizzy as you felt Scaramouche rip open the front of your buttoned white blouse.
His eyes quickly looked you over with a predatory hunger.
"you're alright I guess. For a human anyway. You'll do."
You squeak in terror as he tears off your bra next. Gently running his fingertips across your nipples and causing them to harden. as your breath hitches in your throat, you feel an unfamiliar warmth in your panties at the sensation.
He then shoved you back onto the table top.
"h-hey what are you doing? Stop this at once!" You squeak anxiously. Being almost frozen in fear as you feel Scaramouche roughly lift up your shirt and expose your panties to his smug looking gaze.
"what? Not so tough now that you finally realize how insignificant you are?"
He traces the outline of your wet slit through the dampened fabric.
"how pathetic. Acting all bold and yet you're already shaking and getting excited before I've even touched you."
Scaramouche easily tears away the delicate fabric as he spreads your knees wide for him. He kneels down and closely takes in the sight of your exposed sex. Gently pulling your folds open to give him a better look at you.
You feel his cool breath against your inner labia as you begin to tremble.
Finally something clicks for him.
"oh? I see you've never been had yet. It's almost funny Y/N, at your age? Seriously? What?"
He pinched your clit softly
"too shy?" His raspy tone bordered on a seductive growl as you feel him rub little circles on your pleasure nub.
"ugh it's not like I haven't had chances before! I just didn't care for anyone enough to want to do that stuff!"
Your words were met with a jeering cackle as Scaramouche simply sighed and slowly began to ease two fingers into your unbroken entrance.
A strong ache filled your body as you moaned softly and saw blood drip onto his palm as you struggled to raise your head and see what he was doing at first.
Immediately he shoved your head back down and kept a firm grasp on your throat.
"stay still sweetheart. If you don't relax, it's going to be excruciating."
You felt him begin to slowly start thrusting his fingers in and out of your tight pussy. Successfully popping your cherry as you blushed deeply and tried to muffle your cries using your hands.
He leans down and gives your clit a gentle lick next. Teasing you now as you whimper at the new feeling. More warmth filling your lower abdomen as you feel your legs tremble while Scaramouche continued to lap at your untouched bud. Deliberately trying to draw out the strange rising feeling in your tummy. You cry a little as you finally dare speak.
"Please... stop this... I'll pee!" You wail pitifully as his eyes took on a seductive look.
"That's not what's about to happen sweetie ~ don't worry, you're about to feel really good, I promise ~"
He released your upper body and began to focus more on stimulating your tight cunt as he fingered your sensitive walls and continued to gently suck on your clit. Giving it a little bite now and then that made your legs tremble.
Finally you feel your lower abdomen tighten. Your insides pulse as you feel yourself squirt. Scaramouche swallows every drop almost eagerly as he continues to tongue fuck you through your orgasm.
Only when you lay breathless and exhausted upon the table before him, does he finally free his rather large cock from the confines of his shorts, pressing the tip teasingly at your entrance.
"You were all bark just an hour ago bitch. Now you're just a whimpering mess. What happened?"
You felt Scaramouche slide his dick into your pussy then. The thickness stretching you beyond capacity as you wince and feel yourself whine a little.
"Do you realize your place now cunt? Maybe this will teach you to talk with a little more respect towards your superiors."
He began to slowly thrust into you then. Your oversensitive cunt spasming with every thrust as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.
Scaramouche leaned down to steal a kiss too. Shoving his tongue into your mouth as you held onto him. Swallowing up your cute and girlish moans of pleasure and pain as you dug your nails into his back and felt him quicken his pace.
He fucked against your cervix as he continued to press your knees upwards more as he got closer to finishing. Bringing your knees practically beside your head as he got a little rougher then. Forcing you into a sick mating press position as he claimed your virgin womb for himself.
Scaramouche groaned and bit your bottom lip a little as you felt him pour his hot seed into you after what felt like the longest hour of your life. His sadistic smirk widened as he pulled out of your bloody cum filled cunt.
"This will be your new job from now on. Don't bother refusing. You still owe me a debt. " He stuck his fingers in your dripping depths again.
"however, keep being as obedient as you were tonight and this sweet cunt might just pay it off sooner than you think."
#genshin impact#wanderer#wanderer x female reader#wanderer smut#genshin impact smut#smut#genshin smut#wanderer x reader#genshin wanderer#scaramouche smut#scaramouche#scara x reader#scaramouche x reader#scara#scaramouche x female reader
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MDNI! Word count: 921
The second Prince Regent!Aemond walks into the room you can feel the tension in his body, frustrated and angry at the council and handling the siege Rhaenyra has put the King’s Landing in.
He is a mess; his hair unruly and his head being crushed under the weight of the Conqueror's crown, and yet, all he could think about throughout the day was how his heavily pregnant wife was walking in their shared chambers with nothing on but her see-through shift that left little to the imagination.
He couldn’t give a single fuck about how Cole was trying to convince the council for another attack, or how his mother tried to get him to talk — not when he had gotten a peek of your sweet pussy at dawn when he woke up and found you writhing in your sleep, the thin fabric overridden up to your hips.
He has become pathetically insatiable for you ever since your body has started adapting to the changes of growing a human within you, and he has been nothing but an absolute beast to have you on his bed throughout the day so he can grab on your hips and drink up the sweet nectar between your thighs.
“Husband,” you say, hands clutching under your large belly as you stand up on shaky legs, giving your prince regent the courtesy he deserves.
He doesn’t say anything, not a single word is uttered as he takes slow steps toward you, his hands behind his back while he lets his good eye wander all over your body; soft, ripe, round edges and so beautiful.
“What ails you, my prince?” You ask, unsure of what is truly troubling your husband.
“Nothing you should concern your pretty head with, Ābrazȳrys -wife-.” He stands before you, inhaling the sweet scent of the vanilla oil your handmaiden applied to your skin.
He can’t focus, the smell of your fragment and your god-like beauty is enough to send his head into a foggy state. He reaches out, exhaling sharply as his long fingers caress your chin, already shaking with the need for his wife.
“Have you eaten today, husband?” Your voice is dripping with honey as you nuzzle your head into his palm, and he bends down to press a kiss to your exposed shoulder, nearly groaning at the feeling of the soft flesh under his lips.
“I am about to,” he says, keeping his face hidden in the crook of your neck, “would you let me have a delicious meal, wife?”
“Of course, my prince, let me tell the maids—“
“No, no…” he growls into your ear, his other hand coming to rest on the fat of your hips, squeezing it with delight, “I don’t want any food, I want the sweet dessert that is hidden between your thighs.”
“Oh…” you sigh in pleasure as he keeps kissing and nibbling on your skin, “then allow me to lay on the bed—“
“No,” his voice is sharp and curt, sending a shiver down your spine as you feel your arousal coat your inner thighs, “I will be the one lying down.”
He doesn’t let you ponder over what he said, instead, he shrugs his coat and doubles off, kicking his boots away before he crawls on the bed, his long limbs covering the length of the mattress as he reaches to pull you on it as well.
You sit hesitantly beside him on the bed, waiting for him to tell you how he wants you.
He sits up a little, taking the crown in his hands before he puts it on top of your head, smirking at your flustered face as you try to find a reason as to what the fuck he actually is doing.
“Conquer your realm, my queen. Come, your throne awaits you,” he says, his pupil blown with lust and desire as he helps you to your knees, laughing breathlessly at how gorgeous you look with his child heavy in your belly and his crown atop your head — truly a sight for sore eyes.
“Aemond I might suffocate you!” You gasp as he positions himself right beneath your glistening cunt, his fingers digging into your ample body as he licks his lips, his carnal desires for you only growing more by every second you deny him your pleasure.
“Then I would die a happy man,”
You gasp loudly, hands reaching to support your weight on the headboard as he pulls you flush on his face, forcing you to sit on his carved nose.
The moan he lets out as he finally flattens his tongue over your sweet pussy is primal. He licks you clean off your wetness, parting your folds with the tip of his tongue as he plays with your throbbing clit.
Something in Aemond switches on, because in a second he starts rocking your hips on his face, the dip of his nose catching your nub with every roll and his tongue pushes past the first swollen ring of muscles of your cunt, moving it in a rhythmic direction.
He hears you moan and whine in pleasure, which only spurs him on to go faster, while he can feel the tent in his leather pants growing tighter and tighter. He feasts on you like a starved man, groaning and moaning with every lick of his skillful tongue.
He can only imagine how you look, eyes closed, chest heaving with ragged breaths, and head thrown back while you wear the Conqueror's crown, like a true queen.
#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#rue writes✍️#aemond x reader#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x you#aemond smut#hotd smut#aemond drabbles#prince regent aemond
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FEEL BETTER YET? - MS
No Nut November - Day 7
NNN Masterlist...
-➤ When you are on your period, Matt is always there to look after you
Every month you endured pain like no other, your abdomen puncturing you from the inside out. It was only 3am but it felt like you had been up for hours, tossing and turning to find any relief. Painkillers failed to aid you and if you moved too much, spurts of nausea floated around your body.
The one thing you were concerned about was not staining your boyfriend’s sheets underneath you. You had already changed a few times in the night, at that point it was better to stay there. The entirety of your body was pushed against the radiator, locating any lingering warmth you could without having to manually do it yourself.
It was agonising, the fact this had to happen at all to you made emotions sky rocket. The trembles of your body matched the way your breathing shuddered when your stomach clenched.
Just as another tear fell, the light above you flickered on.
“Baby? Fuck…are you okay?” Matt was by your side in an instant, his touch giving you the warm you desperately were trying to clutch onto. He was quietly analysing you and the scene in front of him as his concern increased. Each time you wanted to speak smoothly, the sharp pains constructed you. It just made you whimper in pain and it broke Matt’s heart.
He was used to you having rough periods, but this was on another level. You could breathe. You couldn’t think clearly, your mind fogged with the sheer agony within.
“Why aren’t you in bed baby, you could’ve woken me…you know that…” His tone was gentle and made you sob a few more tears before any words left.
“I- I didn’t want to bloody your sheets..or uh bother you…” You looked away once you saw his face twist into one almost filled with guilt. Independency was idolised by you, he saw it in everything you did. But he wanted to take care of you, this was the small sliver he had and he was going to use that.
“I’ll be back, okay? Just two seconds my love.” Just as quickly as he spoke, he left. The light above remained on, a signal he was still there. Rustling was heard in the distance but once the pain surged it was hard to focus on. Everything was too much. Towels bunched up around you, trying to protect you from the pain, no matter how much it didn’t work.
The sharp pains in your stomach had only gotten worse, even after medication. Every time that Matt crossed your mind it only made you feel so needy, clingy. Like a burden.
Matt returned quickly with his hands full on certain products you couldn’t quite make out. “So first off, I got the chocolates from the fridge I saved for you, and some of those sweets you like to chew…” The packets were held up as he showed them off to you. “I got some of the stronger medications for if you needed to top off with them, uh, I grabbed your socks too and just made a hot water bottle for you. I know last time was a little too hot, so I put some cold water into it as well. “
His gaze finally met your eyes, staring at the pile with tears forming. It was obvious you weren't blinking so that you didn't cry. You knew if you had tried to speak, your emotions would quickly be revealed, if they weren't already by your expression. Your lips switched into a small smile, full of gratitude towards him.
“I- Thank you…really”
“Anytime, I mean that. I just want to be here for you, no matter what.” You let out a small chuckle, allowing yourself to finally give into his efforts to take care of you, you needed it in the moment. Not that you’d admit that to him. He quickly placed the items on your his bed before returning to your side.
One arm reached under your knees while the other supported your back as he pulled you to his chest. It was warm and it was safe. You almost forgot about the pain. Almost.
He lowered you onto the mattress on your side of the bed before handing you the hot water bottle, along side your medication and a drink. He wanted to look after you, not overwhelm you. Matt pulled back from you, climbing under the duvet alongside you.
“I don’t want you to worry about the sheets or bothering me, just worry about yourself. You’re my priority and I never wanting you to think that ill ignore your pain. Never ever will I do that to you sweetheart.” His voice was barely heard over my breathing and a part of you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t.
Subconsciously your body drew close towards him, the heat of the bottle inching closer to his skin until your head lay on his shoulder. “Feel better yet?” You nodded slightly. The pain had subsided, the bottle and his words warming the aches away.
“I love you, you know that right?” A soft smile covered his lips, placing a light kiss on your head.
“I love you too..”
This was what you needed.
@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03
© ENDEREIES 2024
#★ Endereies NNN#©endereies#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo smut#chris x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo smut#x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo hurt/comfort#sturniolo resolved angst#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets imagines#sturniolo x reader#endereies
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— my kind of woman ꣑ৎ‧₊˚. warnings: literally the most tooth rotting fluff ever please make a dentist appointment!! pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hypnos a/n: had this song on full blast writing this 🤗
you were like a dream. how could it be at all humanly possible for someone to look this utterly ethereal as they slept? percy was fully sure that while he slept, opposed to you, looked like a tornado had gotten to him. but you… looked like before your head hit the pillow you had purposely did something to make yourself appear nice looking as you slept. but you didn’t, you only left your bed about three times a day— but he supposed being a daughter of hypnos has its perks. as you’re peacefully in a (he hopes deep) slumber, percy trails his finger over your features delicately. beginning at the top of your head, trailing down your locks as they fall over your shoulders, then over your tactical features and down to your neck, and stopping when his finger meets the collar of his shirt you had been wearing
he smiles at the remembrance of when you had taken it for yourself. you had stayed at his cabin that night, the night prior he had been wearing it but when you saw it in the morning, discarded on the floor, you put it on and wore it back to your cabin. since then it had been claimed as yours. it didn’t matter to percy though, he believed it looked much better on you than it ever had on him. gently, he placed a tender kiss to the crown of your head and pulls you impossibly closer into him
but with this, you begin to stir. his smile quickly diminishes as he realizes it had been him that awoke you. he frantically apologizes, “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to wake you up. go back to sleep, angel.”
“you already woke me,” you murmur in still a half-sleeping state (but when were you not in a sleepy state?). percy cards his fingers through your hair again to lull you back to slumber
“I know but-” he searches for the right words “but you were sleeping. and you love sleeping.”
“it’s fine, I’m fine.”
“are you sure?”
in response, you hum. in your mind, you knew any moment you’d fall right back to sleep anyways. absentmindedly, you curl yourself further into percy to contain any warmth he can offer. though, your cabin was warm enough— you’d probably wake up in a pool of sweat (that or if percy ever fell asleep, his drool). percy continues his trailing over your skin, now beginning over your knee and up your bare thighs, over the edge of your lacy underwear and underneath your (his— whatever) shirt, tracing over your spine before resting simply on your back, tracing circles
“you’re gonna make me fall back asleep.” your voice comes out muffled due to your face being tucked underneath percy’s chin. he laughs at this, from both the affect he’s having on you and your silent voice
“that’s what I’m trying to do, sleepy”
and he surely succeeded in it
#xoxochb#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo series#pjo fandom#percy jackson#pjo#percy series#percy jackson x fem!reader#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x reader#riordanverse x reader#riordan universe#riordanverse
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ㅤㅤ𝗧𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘀
ㅤ···─TEACHING MANNERS with AJAX ILLAD
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCharacter by @yanderefarm
Summary: A lot of parents complained to you, about the way a certain Illad, dresses to pick up his youngest brother. So there seems to be no way around, but try to.. talk some sense into the other male. wc: 1.8k
tags: smut, top m reader, bttm ajax, semi-public, +
Note: This idea is mostly from this little thing, I had the 'au' already written down and thanks to the dear owner of the character, I now have an idea on how to write this a bit better.
Still there's probably a high chance it sucks, but oh well I hope you guys enjoy <3
Never did Ajax think this would work. The first day he laid his eyes on you, he was smitten away, how can he not? You always made his younger brother ramble about how nice and cool you are, how you were his and others favorite teacher.
Of course it is something that Ajax also noticed, at the beginning where he picked up his younger brother, you smiled at him and the way you held small talk with him, made his heart beat quicken.
Something about you was just simply so charming to him.
At first he wasn’t really happy, having to go back to school, even though he loved his youngest brother, he definitely would let someone else pick him up. But since he saw you, he couldn’t help but to simply pick his brother up with the driver. Over time he started to dress more– risky.
From tailored suits, to cropped shirts that showed his abs, and low sitting pants showing his v line dipping into his pants. But there were people coming up to you, to complain about a certain male, about the way he started to dress, seeing it as improper.
Mostly though it was women with.. Other stuff in mind thinking they could get something from you, maybe a phone number, to ‘complain’. Yet the number of Ajax was never even in the information, only the numbers of the parents.
But you still had to talk to the other, as you put all of your papers together and waved the kids goodbye. It was finally the weekend right in front of you. Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door, and as you looked over you saw Ajax. His shirt was cropped, like the last few times. But this time his slacks were rather nice fitting dress pants.
“My brother told me, you wanted to speak to me?” Ajax said, before he casually walked over to your desk, leaned against it. Your eyes were trained on him, as you gave him a small smile, “Yes.. there have been a few.. Complaints about the way you come to school, to pick your brother up, Mr Illad,” you told him, while you put the papers in a folder. Ajax’s eyes were glued to your figure, as a small smirk played on his lips, “Calling me Mr. Illad seems rather strange no? I mean we are both rather close age wise– call me Ajax,” he said.
Surprised you looked at the other, before closing the folder and putting it into your bag. “I’m sorry Mr–” there was a slight squint of Ajax eyes,”Ajax, but I only asked you to come here because of the..” you trailed off as you noticed Ajax leaning closer to you, “What can I call you? I don’t mind calling you mine,” Ajax winked at you.
Your mouth dropped open in surprise, “I– ehh M/n– but that’s not the importance–” you were interrupted, “Nice to finally know your name, handsome,” Ajax said. He took another step closer, “You look really, and I mean really good in these clothes,” Ajax eyes were basically like two pools of lust.
Ajax was attractive, you couldn’t deny that. So when he leaned closer, you couldn't help but pull him closer until you captured his lips with your own. The kiss was led by desire but had the passionate edge to it. Your hands were firmly on his rather slutty waist, kneading the soft flesh with your hands.
The kiss went on for a while, before you pulled back. Both of your lips were swollen red, “Let me close the door,” you breathed out before quickly walking over and closing the door. Your hand pushed your hair slightly back, the tent in your slacks was rather obvious what’s coming next.
As you walked back to Ajax, you couldn’t help it but let your eyes wander over his body. Swallowing hard you couldn’t help but to fuck that teasing smirk off his lips, you sat down on your chair with your legs spread enough for a person between them. You teasingly tapped your hand on your thigh, “Why don’t you get to work, Ajax– maybe I can teach you some manners.”
He couldn’t help but stare at your bulge, before he nodded and quickly kneeled between your thighs. Licking his lips, Ajax started to rub his thumb over your cock, while he opened your pants with the other one as best as he could. But as he struggled you helped get your pants off with a chuckle, “You soon learn how to do it,” you said.
Ajax’s cheeks were tinted pink at your words, but the way his own hard dick strained against his tight dress pants. Pulling your underwear down, Ajax couldn’t help the small gasp escaping his lips, as he watched with slightly widened eyes how your cock sprang free. Your girth was definitely nice, but what was catching his eyes more was your length that basically balanced your girth out.
Not wasting anymore time he can have with you, Ajax quickly got to work. His lips wrapped around your tip, as he glanced up at you through his lashes after a small groan leaving your throat. You noticed him looking at you, you placed your hand on his head, but not pushing him down. He pushed his head down, getting more of your cock into his mouth, god you were basically the perfect match for him and definitely his mouth.
Hopefully you were even better for his ass.
Ajax licked over the veins, making you groan a bit louder. He bobbed his head, happy that he finally reached half his goal. Suddenly you pushed his head down, until his nose was pressed against your groin and your entire length was buried deep into his throat. A moan rippled through Ajax’s throat as his eyes rolled back, yet he quickly knew what you wanted so he quickly got back to sucking you off, while you slightly thrusted up into his warm and wet mouth.
He couldn’t help it but just wanting you to fuck him, so he picked up the pace, hoping for you to cum right down his throat. Ajax could feel the way your dick twitched in his throat, and your hands grabbing onto his hair only to push his head down, he couldn’t help but moan as your cum spurted down his throat.
Slowly he pulled his head back, not without licking over the veins on your cock. A small groan left you, as your tip popped out and Ajax gave it a teasing kiss. You let out a sigh, as you watched Ajax stand up. His own bulge is obvious now to you as well.
You watched as Ajax turned around and swayed his hips from side to side. Biting your lip, as you stood up you were right behind him, your hands were placed on his waist, as Ajax grinded his clothed ass against your exposed cock. With a swift movement, you pushed the other's chest down onto the desk, showing two perfect round cheeks in front of you.
Making quick process, you quickly opened up the buttons to Ajax’s pants before pulling them down enough for them and his underwear to fall and pool around his ankles themselve. You held your cock in your hand, as you teased his hole with the tip, doing slow circles, smearing your precum around it. Whines left Ajax as he pushed his hips back, hoping for you to finally thrust into him.
“Please~ just fuck me already,” Ajax begged you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Someone seems eager,” you teased as your eyes were focused on his expression that was turned to you.
Biting your lip you couldn’t help but smack Ajax round ass, letting a moan break free from his throat. Ajax hated but loved the way you treated him, his dick leaking precum on the floor, “Please just put it in– I’m already prepped, just, fuck me,” he begged you again. You watched him for a little longer until you pushed your tip in, a groan left you while a loud moan left Ajax.
You placed both hands on his hips, before you slammed your entire length into Ajax’s hole making a scream escape his mouth, as his eyes rolled back. The heat of your dick and the twitching made butterflies erupt in his stomach, where a small bulge formed. As you thrusted roughly into Ajax, you leaned down on his back.
Placing a kiss on his shoulder,”Taking me so well, baby,” you groaned into his ear. His hole tightened at your words, making you curse out a whispered fuck, before you picked up the pace. The sound of your skin hitting his turned both of you on even more.
Your hands were gripping Ajax’s waist, as your thrusts grew sloppy. Ajax felt the abuse on his prostate turn rather sloppy, so he knew you were about to cum. He couldn’t help himself but moan at the thought of you pumping your cum into him, “cum in me– ngh fuc– ple-see–” Ajax begged through the moans. The to well known feeling built up in his groin, “cum-ing,” Ajax moaned out, before his eyes rolled back as he came. His big useless cock dirtying the desk with his cum, as he felt your tip push against his prostate one more time before a moan rippled from your throat.
With one last rough thrust you pushed your entire length into Ajax as you came, the belly bulge getting bigger while Ajax caressed the spot with a sigh and imaginary hearts in his eyes.
You basically stuck to Ajax even as your cock went soft inside of Ajax, but you couldn’t help but hold him in your arms. You kissed his shoulder, as you still held onto his hips. “You did well, pretty boy,” you said, slightly out of breath.
Ajax chuckled as a blush formed on his cheeks, “Thanks– you did fuck me pretty good too–” Ajax said, awkwardly even though he meant it. You did fuck him really well, his fingers trailed around the bulge, biting his lip Ajax couldn’t help but look back at you.
“Can I take you out on a date?” he suddenly asked you, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Sure– I mean yea-” you leaned your head against his neck. “You should wear suits more often– I still remember the times you had it on– you look really good with them,” you suddenly said.
Ajax seemed surprised at that, “Thank you,” there was another silence. “Do you think I’m pregnant with your kids?” Ajax suddenly spewed out, and you couldn’t help but look dumbfounded at him before you chuckled, “Ajax, I don’t think that’s how it works,” you said and a pout formed on his lips, “Sadly, but a man can have dreams–” he retorted.
You couldn’t help but simply kiss his cheek, “Then when is the date?” you ask him. “How about we start– after we make it out of here– and we do another round in my car, how about that?” Ajax asked, with a teasing look over his shoulder. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, “sure.”
#zolass writes#zolass fanwriting#mlm#male reader#male x male#x male reader#smut#top male reader#writer#gay#oc x male reader#dom male reader#sub yandere#sub character#writing for yanderefarm oc's yay TvT
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But can we talk about how powerful nandor is? like yeah, he might be a bit silly, and not in touch with the modern world, but if he wanted to, he could have already conquered whatever the fuck he wanted to. (he built an army, and jerry is still looking at maps over there).
like let's just start by pointing out that nandor didn't need to be a vampire to accomplish all these great things that he wanted in life. vampirism only made him more dangerous. nandor has always had too much power in his hands, that he tends to misuse, but that's actually a good thing for the people around him because if not, the truth is that they would be fucked.
He was born in a position of privilege, one that put him later on in his life in positions of power, he was a leader who did fucked up shit. As a vampire, he can hypnotize thousands, but even if he couldn't, nandor knows how to attract people to him when he puts his mind to it, as we were able to see, but guess what? he also has doing everyone around him doing whatever shit he wants, because rarely people can say no to him. What nandor wants, nandor gets (even the stupidest of things).
Now. Don't get me started with his pyrokinesis. The dude can create and manipulate fire. Like come on, you know all the batshit crazy things that he could be doing with that? people should be thankful that he's not going around acting in unhinged ways.
He's a formidable warrior, the fact that he live as long as he did as a human, through battles and wars, and the guy didn't get killed? i don't know, but I think that says a lot about his kills. he also can use a large variety of weapons, so now imagine. This guy who's the greatest warrior of his time, gets the strength and the speed that comes with vampirism. he becomes a fucking killing machine (not like he wasn't one already), but now he's unstoppable and on top of that, immortal!
As i said in the beginning of this post, time and time again nandor has been given power, too much power I should say. he even got those 52 wishes and the things my guy here could have accomplished with them? ridiculous! but he was feeling silly, so... he decided to have fun instead. Good for him.
Now, we now he conquered places and won wars, and while his years as a ruler were bloody, it seems like he did a lot of Al Quolanudar when it comes to territory. What I'm trying to say is that he's a good strategist, he's good, no he's the best at what he does. he excels in what he was trained and taught to do (and even the vampire community acknowledges this).
People always like to underestimate him (the fandom included. it's true.), say that in a battle he stands no chance. That X, Y, and Z are more could easily demolish him, that he can't do shit for himself, but like excuse me, he's the oldest vampire in that house, look at all the shit that he can do, so no. He's the strongest and most powerful piece in that chessboard, mam. Nandor could go on a killing spree and no one could stop him.
This latest season really brought forward this qualities of his that had always been there. Nandor can be competent, he can be assertive, he really just chooses not to, but if he did! well, we saw what can happen when he is.
nandor is powerful, skillful, and dangerous in more than one way, and yes! smart when he needs to be.
And i make this post, because some people have made him into this character that's just an idiot with 0 qualities, and those qualities that he does have, are always being diminished to make other characters look better (yes. to make guillermo look better. i said it, which is highly unnecessary because he can shine on his own).
It's not that he can't do shit, the fact is that he doesn't want to.
#wwdits#i'm sure there is more i wanted to say#but you get the point#yes i simp for this idiot#this post has been cooking in my head for years
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Hey so uh y'all know this is straight up radfem rhetoric that will do fuck all to actually combat the rise of fascism in this country while putting young people further at risk of being indoctrinated into conservatisim, right? Like this is 100% the basis of political lesbianism and is a direct pipeline to becoming a fucking TERF which is a direct pipeline to holding hands with Nazis, we should NOT be supporting or promoting the idea that the only way for women to be safe is to completely isolate themselves from men, especially in the coming years where unity with our allies, a group which includes men, will be the key to survival for so many people. The state of the world right now is based in part on the rampant spread of individualism and exclusion and distrust, why the hell would perpetuating that help??
Also this alienates women who cannot or will not abandon their connections to men(wanting to marry and love and have sex and children with men is morally neutral) and strips us of our ability to find allyship with marginalized men who are on our side and also will face extreme violence under this new administration. This will cut us off from black men and disabled men and intersex men and queer men and will absolutely be used as justification to completely fucking abandon trans men, who have already been completely abandoned by current mainstream feminism to the point that I cannot go five seconds without someone saying reproductive rights are an issue that only affects women when that is in NO way the case. Basically no one has been including trans mascs/men, nonbinary people, and intersex people in the abortion and birth control discussion this election cycle despite those groups needing just as much help and support on this front and that is a PROBLEM. Like trans men and intersex people who can get pregnant are going to be at a hellish level of risk going forward, infinitely more so than the average cishet perisex woman. We cannot abandon them further.
Plus for some of us marriage will potentially keep us safer or help us escape this country should we need to, I'm disabled and can't work I cannot just move to another country, but if I get married and my fiancé goes first and finds a job that can support us both that will help me. And like you can also get married to a man and still refuse to have kids in protest? Most of the people in our generation aren't having kids anyway? And tbh those of us who want to are not bad people nor should we have to put our entire lives on hold for god knows how long to stick it to the men. We live in hell right now, why the fuck should we be asking people to completely abandon things that could make them happy in a weird form of protest that won't work and is a gateway to being a raging Nazi transphobe??
And on top of all of that this also lets the hundreds of thousands of women who voted for Trump on purpose because they too have bought in to his rhetoric off the hook, which again, is where radical feminism leads because it is fundamentally based on the idea that men are always dangerous and harmful no matter what but women are always innocent brainwashed victims who can do no harm. And writing off men as a lost cause who are evil by nature and thus cannot be saved is also not only radical feminist bullshit, it's legit just conservative "boys will be boys" bullshit with a progressive hat. I am not giving shitty men a free pass to suck forever by pretending they are incapable of change, they can, should, and MUST be held to a higher standard. That is what I mean when I say radical feminisim is a conservative ideology, it doesn't believe a better world is possible because it assumes men will always be evil and should be avoided at all costs which upholds the status quo, it does nothing to actually challenge it.
(And hell, if all that wasn't enough, this is also flawed because the kinds of women who are left leaning enough to consider doing something like this likely already only associate with progressive men, so who are we even punishing here? No woman riding the tradwife MAGA waterslide is going to do this, so the only men who get punished are the good ones who are on our side, which helps who, exactly?? Like christ y'all this falls the fuck apart so fast the second you actually think about it.)
There are men who will be my allies in the coming years and women who will be my enemy. Women are just as capable of being bigoted fascist pieces of shit as men are, this election proved that. We waited for women to save us and most of them fucking didn't. How the hell am I supposed to believe women are inherently safer or better while looking at the breakdown of what demographics voted for Trump. Some of the most vile, traumatizing misogyny and biphobia I have faced in my life was at the hands of other women and some of the most outspoken feminists who work tirelessly to tear apart the patriarchy I know are men. My fiancé, a cis man, legit checked MY toxic masculinity yesterday, I recently came out as butch and have been trying to live up to that by staying as strong as possible right now, and HE had to tell me to knock it off and let myself cry. Gender and sex are not indicators of morality and acting like they are is pure, unadulterated radical feminist bullshit.
We can and should absolutely talk about the rise of alt-right beliefs amongst men in this country, especially young men, but we cannot ignore that young women are buying into that shit too and a lot of it is COMING FROM RADICAL FEMINISTS, I cannot fucking stress enough radical feminism is a direct pipeline to becoming a conservative, the TERF to tadwife waterslide is real and likely WHY so many young women are voting conservatively. The more we concede to this rancid bullshit the more women wander directly into the alt-right's open arms.
The problem isn't men, it's systemic misogyny perpetuated by both men AND women, and also fascism. Don't lose sight of the true enemy.
#current events#us politics#politics#us election#radical feminisim#long post#negative#cw nazi mention
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dbda fic request- the boys meet death after becoming the lost and founds freelancers and find out they're her favorite coworkers even if they're just now meeting 💕 thank you!
Hi! I love this idea, it's so sweet and I loved writing it! I hope you enjoy what I came up with for it!
Charles and Edwin have been officially sanctioned as an extension of the Lost and Found Department for around six months. Things had been going well, they were on top of cases, Crystal had been helping Niko with the paperwork for the Night Nurse whenever she wasn't needed on cases.
It was good.
As it so happened, they had just successfully finished up another case. Getting the ghost of a particularly dextrous and determined octopus out of the London Aquarium. In the end, it had been fairly happy to be taken to the end of the Thames that fed into the ocean. They had managed to help the ghost of the aquarium worker who brought the case to them move on while they were at it.
Everyone happy. Job officially jobbed.
"That one felt good, didn't it, mate?" Charles grinned as he looked to the side, at Edwin, hands triumphantly placed on his hips.
"It certainly was rewarding, I must agree." Edwin replied, his own small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "Though admittedly I could have done without the octopus trying to eat my notebook."
The highly put upon way that he said those words had Charles breaking into a short but full-bodied laugh as he clapped Edwin on the shoulder.
"Bloody hell, I don't think I'll ever forget that look on your face." Charles wheezed and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.
"Please. There is no need for such theatrics." Edwin rolled his eyes, all in good humour. "It was worth it in the end."
Charles took a breath and straightened up, still smiling broadly as he looked out at the edge of the river. "Always is, isn't it?"
"Right you are. I would not change this for anything."
"Me neither."
They stood together for a while, side by side. The sun was setting just over the horizon, though it would soon disappear beyond a line of flats and skyscrapers. There was a tinge of orange and pink melting into the pale blue that peeked out from between clouds.
The wind gently moved the branches of the few potted trees that grew from between grey paving slabs.
Briefly, they both thought about the past, about life and about afterlife, about how a breeze like that once felt against their skin. What would it be like now, to close their eyes and lean into the wind and feel it in their hair?
It didn't really matter in the end.
Nothing beat the feeling of freedom that came from simply being as they were, side by side, solving cases, helping people. They had Crystal and Niko, and the Night Nurse, maybe even more people than that if they went outside of the agency. Most importantly though, they had each other. They always would.
They were about to consider heading away to look for a mirror to get back to the agency, when something made them pause. A presence seemed to appear behind them under the weighted sound of swooping wings.
A warmth spread over them, like the sun warming their backs through layers of clothing.
Perhaps there could have been a spike of anxiety when they both realised in quick succession, that the presence was of Death herself; Death Of The Endless.
"Good evening, Detectives." she greeted, voice warm and comforting.
Slowly, they both turned to greet her in turn.
"It is, rather." Edwin agreed, much more calmly than he would have ever anticipated himself capable of under such circumstances.
"Can we help you?" Charles asked, a little nervous, a little in awe.
"You have been helping me a great deal already." she smiled with more kindness than either of them had seen from a stranger in either of their lifetimes.
But then, she wasn't really a stranger, was she? No. She was more like an old friend, if either of them truly thought about it.
"Actually, that's part of why I'm here." she continued. "Your probationary period is over. It was more of a formality than anything, but I thought it'd be nice to come and tell you myself," she smiled, obviously just having come from gathering their Aquarium worker. "Congratulations and welcome to the Afterlife Department."
"...probationary period?" Edwin echoed in mild confusion. He hadn't been aware of any such thing.
"As I said, detective. Just a formality. I've been watching the two of you for a very long time. I admire you, actually."
"Hang on a tick. You... admire us?" Charles frowned a bit, in confusion. He had never expected their first conversation with Death to go quite in this direction.
"How could I not?" she replied. "You two are my favourites. You help lost souls, solve cases that no one else can solve. So many of those people would have wondered forever if not for your help. I couldn't be prouder to have you officially on board."
"So... You will not force us to move on? You won't be separating us?" Edwin questioned, undeniably afraid of the answer.
"Of course not." she almost laughed. "Much of the afterlife is left a mystery even for Afterlife employees, and so I can't say much, but I don't think either of you would consider anything but this, to be an ideal eternity." she gave them both a look that told them she knew it to be true, with absolute certainty.
"I..." Edwin had a burning question, but he wasn't sure he could ask it.
She understood him anyway.
"You're not going back to Hell, Edwin. You never should have been there in the first place. Besides, I think you've more than earned the afterlife you deserve." It was the one that he already had.
Edwin could have wept with the relief (and truthfully, so could Charles).
"Mate!" Charles exclaimed. "That's brills! That means you and me can stay together, yeah? Carry on doing what we do best." he beamed so brightly and with so much joy that it was almost like looking at the sun.
And how could Edwin not match his enthusiasm? He beamed right back, like the moon reflecting that same light.
Neither of the boys could quite put their finger on what compelled them to hug Death in that moment. Perhaps it had been the relief, or the joy, or the safety of it. Perhaps it was all of those things.
And, perhaps they had always been embracing death, from the moment they stepped into each other's lives.
This time though, Death embraced them back, and it felt like home. It felt like protection.
It was that devotion and love that endeared them so much to Death. She couldn't help but root for them to succeed. They understood better than most, that death was a part of life, just as much as the living.
They really were her favourite coworkers.
#dead boy detectives#save dead boy detectives#edwin payne#charles rowland#payneland#death of the endless#Oneshot#Fic requests#Dbda
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Heyo I was seized by plot bunnies, so have a little DCXDP! Note, this IS heavily inspired by @phantomfen 's ao3 work https://archiveofourown.org/works/57152017
I highly recommend reading that, but this isn't connected, just inspired. This snippet is also inspired by the song "The Tale of The Shadow" by Sail North. I hope you enjoy!
This is Dead on Main because they're my favorite~
The Shadow:
The wooden boards groaned underneath my weight, as I paced in front of the boat I had purchased. I had finally done it. Bruce wasn't going to be happy, but when was he ever happy with what I did? I shook my head, straightening up as I heard several pairs of booted feet. Turning, I saw a gaggle of hardened sailors making their way down the docks towards me.
My own boat bobbed happily in the water next to me. It was smaller than anything that would normally carry cargo. I just hoped we weren't seen as a new rival pirate company. Bruce already dealt with the majority of them, but they always kept breaking out of jail and reclaiming their territory. The idea to claim it for myself was tempting, but that could come after I had found my prize.
For as long as I could remember, Alfred had put me to bed with a variety of stories. Above and beyond my favorite, besides anything set in the regency era, was the tale of The Shadow. A spectral ship, empty of any Captain or crew, but supposedly full of treasure, waiting for the right Captain to claim her. The only person said to be on the ship was some deck boy strung up to be thrown overboard. It wasn't known what the boy could have done to earn eternity on a damned ship, but I hoped I wouldn't find out.
Alfred couldn't tell me where the treasure had come from, but he did tell me of the many times someone tried to claim The Shadow for themselves, but each time, something would go wrong. The weather would turn, the crew would mutiny, a kraken would come and swallow their ship, the ship would come alive and kill the crew, the story would change but stay the same. No one was able to claim her.
The very idea sent me swooning. Tim and Dick both told me not to bother trying to look. Damian thought I was an idiot for believing the ship existed at all. With our nighttime activities of defending Gotham from gangs, pirates, and worse, I didn't know where they got the audacity to be such blatant hypocrites. If someone like Deadman could exist, then so too could The Shadow.
"Ready to go, Captain Jason?" A man I had hired on as First Mate stepped up beside me, a grin twisting his rugged features. He was unshaven, wearing sturdy clothing meant for hard labor. His hair was short and rusty brown, his eyes were a dull green, watering a bit. He slouched, turning to glance back at the men as they loaded themselves on, and began the process of getting the ship ready to sail.
My grin was sharper than his, and I hopped across the gap, landing on the top deck of the ship. Turning back to him, I gestured the man to follow. We toured the ship, and I made sure everything was flowing as it should. I had made sure to do my research on how ships ran, especially old ones, since the legend of The Shadow was as old as seafaring itself, maybe older. I knew how to sail a modern ship as well as, as many of the older versions of ships as I could sink my teeth into. I was ass at canoe, though I had no idea why. Kayaking was fine, and so was a little speed boat, but not a canoe. I kept getting flipped.
…
We cast out to sea, radio on and scanning for any unusual traffic. We were equipped to fish, and that's technically what we would be doing the most of. There was no telling how long it would take to find The Shadow, but I had made a map of where it had been sighted, color-coded by decade. We would find that ship, and I would… I would shove it in Bruce's face to stop doubting me. I would have finally proven myself to him, and he wouldn't have any choice but to pay attention!
Weeks passed, slowly sailing to each spot The Shadow had been spotted. We would occasionally put to port to speak with the ones whom had made the report. The crew was a little irritated with how long that method would take, so currently we were sailing out for our next destination, a series of sightings in the middle of the Atlantic.
"Captain! A storm's on the horizon!" One of the crew called from the crow's nest, sounding really worried.
"Size of the clouds?" I called back, already striding to the back deck to pull out my spyglass and get a better look. We had yet to see a storm yet, but it was sometimes said The Shadow would use them to travel, seemingly popping up once the storm passed and scaring the shit out of people.
"Too big! This storm'll tear us apart!" He called back, the nervous strings of his voice ringing out and alerting the rest of the crew that something wasn't right.
"Captain?" First Mate stepped up, hand reaching out for the spyglass. I handed it over easily, watching him as he held it up to his eye and looked through carefully. Pulling the lens from his eye, he glanced at me, giving a sharp nod.
"This is the best sign we've gotten so far." He announced, getting cheers from the crew. Shouldn't I be the one making that kind of announcement? Oh well. "With any luck, The Shadow is amongst those clouds! The treasure is close!"
The crew crowed in excitement, pumping their fists in the air. I dismissed them back to work, not liking some of the looks they would throw me when they thought I wouldn't notice. This crew wasn't my best idea, but it was almost over, I could almost taste the treasure on the air. We would split our shares, and be on our way.
…
Ocean spray blew into the air, flung across achingly familiar wooden planks. I glided across the damp wood, watching the ocean thrown around by my storm. The Shadow slipped across the water, my awareness brushing across something new. The souls wrapped around my throat like pearls shuddered at the foreign feeling, their rest disturbed. Interest piqued my mind however, the beauty of the ocean was unending, but then, so was the loneliness.
It had been a while since someone and tried to take what wasn't their's. My treasure had been safe for generations at this point. It had been so long, I thought the last person to know of my existence had finally died. I shouldn't have been so hopeful though, humans are too tenacious. They think they can just come aboard my ship, and hurt my charges. Maybe this can be the last time I have to defend. Maybe I can leave them with a lesson so harsh, no one else comes looking for me and mine. Maybe I could even keep a few of them for myself.
The wind I had been using to propel myself forward, ceased. I watched, flitting between portholes, flickering behind rigging, swarming the sails, as a boat drew closer. It teemed with people. They so badly wish to join my collection. I fingered my pearls, body clacking whenever I moved. The strings dangled across the ground, creating an eerie symphony.
Orders were shouted across the deck of the nearing ship. One voice stuck out from the rest. A young man with black hair stood at the helm, calling orders. A wild grin was on his face. Despite the distance I could see every detail. This young man looked as if he had found the thing he had been searching his entire life for. The way that emotion lit up his face was almost enough to make me blush.
This young man wanted me this badly? No one had come to purposefully seek me out in so long. Where maybe my heart was at one point, fluttered with emotion. Maybe this one. Maybe I could keep this one.
The boat was now close enough for them to clearly see my deck. Silence reigned as they all stared. Activity exploded, the Captain bursting forward. He stared at The Shadow, my ship, eyes sparkling and wide, his mouth hung open and everything. Tears sparked in the corners of his eyes, and he scrubbed them away quickly.
"This is it boys!" The Captain called, grabbing a rope and swinging over to me. His feet thunked on the wood, the first step made on this ship since…
Thunder filled the air as every boot landed on the deck. I flinched, hiding beneath the deck and staring up at them from between the floorboards. It had been so long since the souls around me were in a body. I fingered my string of pearls, the sound of the clattering drawing the attention of several of the sailors. They crossed themselves, glancing around nervously. I had to stifle a giggle. They had sealed their fate by coming after my charges, no amount of prayer could save them now.
My attention moved to the Captain, appearing in his shadow, watching him.
"At last… I've heard more stories about this magnificent beast than I can remember. The captaincy is within my grasp. It's right here." He murmured to himself, inspecting different areas of The Shadow. He opened doors, peaking in at empty rooms, followed closely by a few members of the crew. One of them had a knife in his hand, unsheathed, like he was going to kill the captain.
I frowned at the idea. That wouldn't be ideal. I could speak to a soul I had collected sure, but it was much easier if they had a body to move with. I tossed my head in exasperation, holding back a giggle as more of the vile sailors crossed themselves at the rattling clack that accompanied my every motion.
Pearls dripped down my body, strung across like a tight net. Each pearl was a soul I had collected on the seven seas. I kept them safe from those who might wish them harm. Here, with me, they could sail until time expired, feeling nothing but joy at the freedom bestowed to them. Being able to wander the earth, one with the oceans they had so loved? What more could a sailor want? They felt no hunger, no thirst, nor heat nor cold. I would take them around the world, even beneath the waves sometimes, to see magnificent wrecks.
I hadn't caused all of them.
The captain was stroking the wood of the bannister he leaned against. His thumb was gentle.
"I can't believe it. The Shadow is real, and looks as beautiful as if she had just come off the lot." He grinned, head tilting back to expose his neck. His eyes closed, and he sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't need anything else. I can die happy now, just having found The Shadow." He pulled away from the wood, hands going into his pockets.
"Captain! We've searched most of the hold already, it's just full of moldy rocks and bad water!" One of the sailors stomped up to the Captain, a scowl on his face.
The Captain raised an eyebrow, looking the slightly shorter man up and down. "And? We've definitely found the right ship. What do I care about treasure? You'll still get paid what I promised." The Captain waved away the sailor, running his hands over another section of railing. He was approaching the helm, staring at it like it could answer every question he had ever had.
I wasn't sure how to react to him not caring about the treasure though. No one who sought out my ship knew that I was guarding it. Everyone wanted to find and take the treasure for themselves. The crew didn't seem to like that the captain didn't care about the treasure.
My mind whirled with possibilities as the crew began to tear through the ship, trying to find me. This Captain might really be someone worth keeping around. At least for a little while. I could always collect him after I finished with the crew. It would be nice to have a soul here independent of me. Then I would know his decisions were his own. Not to mention, I can't just let him leave after finding me, and I don’t think his crew will let him leave either. I grinned at the idea that these sailors were now all mine.
The Captain touched the helm, awe on his face.
I plunged into the woodwork of the ship, stretching my senses out through every piece of rigging. Snapping out, I grabbed every throat, wringing them like so much laundry. The crew were dead before a sound could be uttered. Another string of pearls clacked into being, wrapped around my body.
The captain was staring at me, his eyes a startling blue. I hadn't seen a person with such blue eyes before. They were almost as beautifully blue as the ocean in all her moods. They would be perfect to add to my collection of the most precious objects I could find.
In a flash, I revealed myself, watching as the Captain's beautiful eyes widened, showing even more shades of blue within their depths. There was nothing for it, I was utterly besotted. I had to have them. My hand reached out, cupping his face. The man was taller than me, but it didn't mean much when my feet didn't have to touch the floor.
"You–! You're not tangled in rigging! You're the treasure!" The Captain gasped, one hand covering his mouth, while the other carefully reached forward. It was if I hadn't just killed his entire crew before his eyes.
My own hands reached out, I cupped his face, feeling the strong jawline beneath my palms. It was so strange to be touching living flesh. The Shadow had already absorbed the bodies and nutrients of the men, their bodies no longer hanging from the rigging. I hadn't touched skin in so long…
The Captain began to scream, reaching up to try and shove me away. His eyes were so pretty, they would look better as the centerpiece for my favorite necklace. The pearls on that necklace had long gone dormant, but the souls inside had been important. Probably. How long since they last spoke to me? I pushed the thought away, wiping my hand across the empty sockets of my new Captain.
The wounds healed, and the man stopped screaming, his hands slowly lowering.
"Much better. Ahhhh, these are so pretty!" I exclaimed, wanting him to know I hadn't just thrown them out. "It's been so long since someone sought me out. Even longer since I had a Captain… it seems like that was what you were hoping for?" I asked, floating around my Captain, giggling as he spun around to my clacking.
"I…" He wet his bottom lip, head tilting this way and that, probably trying to follow me. "I've dreamt about being the captain of this ship for as long as I can remember." He was even telling the truth, rare that. The emotions bleeding from him were a desperate yearning I hadn't felt in ages. Usually I would only feel them from the terrified sailors that would flee before my storm.
My grin stretched too wide, but that was okay. He couldn't see it anyway. I looped my arms around his shoulders, pressing my flat chest to his own. The sound of the pearls rang across the ship.
"Welcome then, my Captain. Where are we going?" I asked, eager to find the first place I hadn't decided on.
Captain looked like I had dangled something precious in front of his face, only to snatch it away again. He scowled, trying to shove me off. I just clung tighter, phasing through his scrabbling hands so I didn't go anywhere. My grin turned to a bit of a snarl.
"You wanted to be my Captain, didn't you? Did you think there would be no price to pay? Now tell me. Where are we going?" I nuzzled into my Captain's throat, not wanting to scare him too much. It had been millennia since I had been human myself (was I ever actually human? Or did I imagine that?), so I would have to be patient with my Captain. Maybe I wasn't speaking his language?
Captain choked on air, but had stopped trying to push me away. His heart rate had spiked, rushing faster through his body as I stayed snuggled up to him.
This was going to be the start of a beautiful partnership.
#dc x dp#dc x dp crossover#dcxdp#dcxdpdabbles#fast and loose with AU rules#dead on main#pirates#haunted ship#tw non-graphic violence#protector spirits#pearls are the souls of those lost at seas#Danny takes his job very seriously#Danny wasn't human#maybe#short story#complete#if someone wants to do more with this#go for it#dcxdp fanfic#long post#I'm probably missing tags but i think this is good#the two stories from the link and the song have been blending in my head rent-free for weeks now#i couldn't resist anymore
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Something to get my through the struggle of the results of the US 2024 presidential election, I thought I would write a little piece of what I think the marauders election night plans would be. If they were American and invested in muggle elections that is.
When Lily was working the polls, it felt busier than any other election season. The nervous energy in the air was prominent in the faces and voices of everyone she helped. At the end of her very long and tiring day she felt a bit of hope in her heart but right now all she wants to do is snuggle on the couch next to her husband and their friends as they watch the news update and eat junk food.
She hears the laughter from outside her front door as she puts the key into the lock.
"never gonna be president now, never gonna be president now, that's one less thing to worry about, one less thing to worry about!" Lily smiles as she sees her husband and his best friend Sirius sing together as the dance on top of the couch.
" polls just closed, we won't have an answer for hours if even that." Lily said as she put down her stuff and slipped her shoes off.
"Lily flower!" James yells as he jumps off the couch to greet his wife.
" we just thought we would manifest the energy we wish into the world" He said after greeting her with a kiss.
"mmhmm, had a couple drinks already?" she mussed as she smelt the alcohol on his breath.
" I'm afraid that would be my fault Lily." Sirius' boyfriend Remus said as he came in from the kitchen with a pot of tea. " They were getting restless and I couldn't take their nearly bouncing off the walls any longer"
"can't blame you for that" Lily brushed the hair out of James face and after a couple tries gives up hope it will be in any other position then the one it is currently stuck at.
Later that night as the news played on and after the boys had a couple cups of tea and sobered up a little nerves ran through the bodies of each person in the little house Lily reminded them of the red mirage and how they likely wouldn't even have results tonight, but still the nerves lingered.
Sometime after midnight James and Sirius fell asleep, Sirius tucked into Remus' side and James with his legs over Lily's lap. It wasn't looking good, but they still had hope for the blue shift.
No shift came, and as the news called the winner Remus and Lily were both filled with panic and dread. Lily felt betrayed and fearful for herself as the man with so little care for people of her gender now holds the most powerful position in America. Remus looked at his sleeping boyfriend who laid blissfully unaware of the news and wondered what it would mean for them, they weren't married yet but now it soon might not even be an option for them, nor could it be safe to publicly love each other.
Their fear-stricken faces meet as the blue light from the TV illuminated each other. Lily already had tears welling up in her eyes but as she meet Remus' face it all broke loose and her body rocked with sobs as she struggled to keep herself quite as to not wake the sleeping boys.
Remus couldn't bear to see one of his best friends cry he pulled himself free from Sirius and wrapped his arms around her as she cried in his chest. Eventually the sounds and shifting from their partners woke the boys from their slumber and with the reaction of their loved ones they knew it was not good news but as their faces move to look up at the TV and see the orange headed face stare back a pit forms in their stomachs.
They all take turns crying and screaming that night. Worse case scenarios are brought up and planned for, conspiracy theories are divulged, painful posts of others across the country are read, text and phone calls to other loved ones are given, but ultimately they grieved, they cried, and they were hurt, they let themselves feel the hurt and determined that tomorrow they would take action but tonight they would mourn.
#the marauders#marauders era#lily evans#lily potter#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#Marauders AU#american marauders#marauders headcannons
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Favorite patient
Chapter two: party fun
Warnings: porn with plot, smut, fingering, semi publicity (public bathroom), throuple. I think that's all. Let me know if there is more.
"I know, I know. How about we meet up at a nearby bar and I'll pay?" I say, though I don't plan on paying as they always end up paying. "Fine, you really owe us one Amari!" Rebecca huffs before hanging up.
Fucking assholes. Whatever, I should go home and change, I wanna get laid tonight. I'm probably lying to myself right now, I always chicken out. They always seem to bother me about it.
Being a virgin at 23? Unheard of.
.
.
.
Fuck, what should I wear? Hm... I rummage through my closet and pull out a pair of knee-length black shorts, "hm... Not bad" I hum, tossing the shorts on my bed. Now a shirt.
I search my closet and pull out a black long sleeved fishnet crop top with black mesh making my chest less visible. Yeah, this'll work. I think I'll wear my fishnet thigh highs with my shorts.
Yeah, perfect.
.
.
.
I feel like a whore. " 'Mari darling~ can you go get some more drinks?" Rachel slurs, putting extra emphasis on the 'darling'. I quickly nod and walk away from the group.
Rachel has always had a thing for me, something I pretend to be oblivious to. I walk up to the counter, "Hi, can I get three cosmopolitan shots over there?" He nods "Thank you" I say, sitting at one of the stools.
My eyes scan the crowd, perhaps looking for my one nightstand, maybe just eye candy. A tall man with white hair catches my eye, next to him is a woman wearing a tight black dress.
Holy fuck,- that can't be... "Didn't know if doctors could drink, Dr. Gojo" "Very funny nurse Geto" he hums back at her. Fuck, it is. I quickly avert my eyes and someone else catches my eye.
A tan man with ripped baggy jeans and a short sleeves black shirt. I wouldn't mind losing my V-card to him.. We lock eyes and he motions for me to come over. Before I can fully stand up someone is pushing me down
"Didn't expect to see you here hun" Geto says, making herself comfortable in my lap "I- uh, I'm here with friends" I say, looking anywhere but at her. "Ah, ah, ah. Eyes on me angel" she coos at me, gently redirecting my gaze to her.
"I-" I see Rachel walking over to us, drink in hand, looking pissed. Fuck. I grab Geto's thighs and flip our position, her sitting in the chair as I hover over her and, as I expected Rachel's drink splashed on me.
"Amari- I am so-" "Here, let me help you dry off in the bathroom" Geto cuts off Rachel. Before I can say anything I'm being dragged to the bathroom by Geto. I walk in and I'm pushed against the door.
Her mouth quickly attached to mine, her tongue exploring my mouth. My hands fall on her hips, griping them tightly. I break the kiss after a few minutes, panting for air. "D-darling please..."
"Darling huh? Hm.. how do you feel about a throuple?" "T-thats fine..." She smiles and pulls me out of the bathroom and out of the bar. I catch a glimpse of a crying and angry Rachel but before I can process it anymore I'm outside.
"Who's the third person?" I ask as we walk towards a sleek black car "Someone you already met" She assured me, opening the car door and pushing me in, not wasting any time getting in and closing the door behind her.
Climbing on top of me and reattaching her lips to mine, "Well hello to you" he says, starting the car. I break the kiss "Hi" I huff out before kissing down her neck, "H-hah.. how many people have you done this too?" Geto asks breathlessly.
"I'm a virgin" I mumble against her skin. "Seriously?" Gojo asks "mhm.."
.
.
.
After what feels like forever we finally get to his house. I carry Geto upstairs to a random room, laying her on the bed. I immediately start attacking her neck again, unzipping her dress and pulling it off of her.
"Ngh! Hah... P-please~" she moans out, though I don't know what she's begging for. I take off her bra, tossing it to the side with her dress. I'm not sure when Gojo walked in but I feel him push me closer to Geto.
Geto is now under me as Gojo is behind me, I think I know what he's gonna do. I quickly put my hand to use, sneaking between her legs and circling her clit with my thumb.
"Hah!... M-more... Please.." she begs, her nails clawing at my back. Who am I to deny such a pretty plea? I push two fingers into her, slowly stretching her out. She cries out so prettily.
I flinch when I feel one of Gojo's fingers pushing into me. "F-fucking hell.." I mumble before attaching my mouth to Geto's nipple. "Mmm! S-so good..." She moaned, I can definitely say the same.
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I groan as I slowly sit up. I glance over staring at the parts of Geto and Gojo's body that weren't covered. Bite marks, hickeys, and scratch marks littered all over them. Fucking beautiful.
Then it sets in, the realization. I slept with my doctor and my nurse.
#jjk x oc#jjk gojo#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen oc#jjk oc#jujutsu kaisen#jjk geto#jujutsu kaisen geto#jujutsu kaisen gojo#nurse geto#doctor gojo
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Whats your fat story? like waht made you want to get so big and fat?
Okay buckle up because it’s REALLY effed up as a story.
BE WARNED!! THIS IS A REALLY LONG POST!!
I was JUST 4 years old when, in the solitude of my little bedroom, i played pretend within myself in my toddler crib: i was a little piggy and was destined to be fattened up.
Flash forward: i was 7, i was playing pretend still with that setting, and weighed myself before drinking as much water i could, and weighing myself after that too. I enjoyed seeing the little numbers on the scale go up so fast.
Flash forward: it was early 2000 years, i was 10 and a bit chubby, and the social fashion and new norm was being thin, too thin, so thin you could see ribs. I was regularly called fat, lardass, fatass, even tho i was of normal corporature. I was always angry about this, i didn’t felt fat!
Flash forward: i was 12 and EVERYONE called me fat because i developed early and already had big tits. The rest of my body was thin, i could feel the inter-ribs space with my fingers, but for the culture fo the time i was FAT. I started doing A LOT of sports, like swimming half week and karate the other half week, and that made me bulky, not thin at all. Fat-related bullying intensified at the point that at 13 years old i requested to my mother if i could go to a nutritionist for becoming thinner. She complied, but i got so stressed from the bullying, too much sport and trying on the top of this to be the best in my class, that i actually gained weight… the “wrong” kind of weight. The FAT weight.
I was 14 when i put my fingers on the minimal curve of my belly, the littlest pouch of fat i had when i was like 7 and never again, and pushed and squeezed it. And i loved it. I searched on google, in my mother tongue (italian): “what does it means if i like being fat?”. And it found a single 100ish people forum on BHM and BBW in italian, and i spent a week reading it, watching the SFW photos, i even requested access by registration to the forum.
And THERE. THERE i asked the fundamental question: “everyone i know wants to be thin… but i like being fat. I’d like to be fatter, even. I am wrong? Am i a bad person for feeling like this?”.
And response, gentle and welcoming and kind, was immediately: “no, you’re not a bad person for wanting to decide for your own body in your own way. You’re little for now, but one day you’ll get to choose for yourself what to do about it”.
But i was 14. And any 14yo ever existed believes they know everything in the world.
So i started using my allowance. Normally i’d store it in a box under my bed until i really wanted something (at the time i already spent like 200€ for an ipod touch, but i still had a decent sum remaining), but now i planned and invested my money in my fattening.
I started buying food on the way from home to school and returning, every place selling food knew me by name for the end of the school year. And i packed kgs like my body was so thirsty for them!!
In just two years (2!!) i went from 14 yo per 55 kg (155 cm height) to 16 yo per 115 kg (160 cm height).
I bumped into things with my body because i wasn’t used to being so large! And i was so effing soft!!! I loved it!!!
It was… interesting, from an external point of view, for sure.
My parents couldn’t wrap their minds around HOW i doubled in weight in just two years, for example.
And of course they had to stop me.
They stopped giving me allowance, reprised making me do sports (this time, swimming and modern dance), put me on a strict diet… but I LONGED for that freedom, that big quantities of food and sugary carbonated drinks, even the fatigue and short breath from running briefly… but more than anything… i hated i was losing my physical softness.
In other two years, from 16 to 18, i went from 115 kg to 75 kg.
Then my mother died and she left me some money, so i could go away from home (never loved that other parent too much) in 2015 and start my TRUE gaining.
Since then, I gained more than 125 kg (280 lbs).
#death feed#death feedee#gaining fat#fat girl#fat girls#death feederism#death feedist#feedisn#obese feedee#get me fatter
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You are very welcome.
And while they are extremely well meaning, I read some of the comments in the replies, and I would say to be careful with some over-generalizations.
For example, saying "stay away from apps, it's better to..."
If you go on an app to meet people, there's bound to be other people potentially compatible with you that are going on apps to meet people, too.
Apps can be overwhelming because, just like in "real life" (a.k.a. life offline), they are filled with tons of different and sometimes weird (not the good kind) people.
But there are also gems in there, including introverted people for whom socialization or "naturally making contact with a seemingly nice and interesting looking stranger on the street" doesn't come easy.
And, while I do know people that found the "great love of their lives"™ through a friend of a friend, such situations can sometimes get messy.
Because when you get introduced to one of your friend's friends, that friend can kind of (without any malice on their part) put some pressure on you two to make it work, because they already "ship you two together".
In a context where you have a fear of rejection, you might consciously or subconsciously fear to disappoint or insult your friend should you not be compatible with the one they introduced you to, and try too hard to make it work to "please that friend", even if there are some things bothering you or little red flags trying to draw your attention.
Your friend might often keep asking you "so, how did it go?", while being all excited, and getting overinvolved, forcing you to put up some solid boundaries.
Not to mention that if you bring some of the red flags you've noticed to their attention, they could have the reflex of minimizing / justifying their friend's more worrying behavior, given how positively they perceive them.
So, if telling a close friends to politely mind their own business because it's confusing you doesn't come easy for you, it can become an added challenge on top of already attempting to navigate the beginnings of a relationship.
And those aren't necessarily things people will think to tell you.
Hence why I say that, when people tell you "avoid this or that context for meeting someone", know that there's almost always some type of bias involved.
You'll have people telling you that the best and most enduring types of relationships are those that start with being friends with someone first, because that's what ended up working for them.
But if you ever experience a strong mutual crush that swoops you off your feet, it could work just as well!
What will make it work, ultimately, is how you both take it from there and your ability (yes it's a huge cliché, I know, but it's still true) to learn to communicate needs and wants clearly, and become teammates dedicated to making each other feel safer and stronger together as you would on your own.
Your willingness to pool resources together and use each other's strengths to compensate for areas where your partner struggles more is a much bigger indicator of a relationship's potential success than how, where and when you met.
For example, my partner struggles putting words on emotions and gets easily overwhelmed by them when they get too strong.
I'm the opposite. I can clearly name and identify exactly what I feel, how it affects and influences me in the now, and put it aside to deal with it later if need be.
So, when there's conflict, I've learned that once I've made my case, I must give my partner room and space for him to retreat, think about my arguments more rationally, and then return when he feels more level headed. Otherwise, I'll push him into a corner where he'll start panicking, and use my own strengths against him.
We keep telling people that communication in relationships is key, but seldom take the time to explain the why and/or the how.
The truth is that humans are huge posers that like to project certain images or make things look easier than they are. We have egos, we seek approval, we try to look good in front of others. Couples will want to project the image of the perfect team.
It doesn't show you the amount of work, nurturing and care that goes into those relationships to make it work.
It doesn't teach you that you'll need to "learn how to fight"... but fight FAIR while aiming for win-win resolutions to conflicts.
It doesn't tell you that "good communication" involves establishing your own communication style and rules together as well.
Hollywood and the people around you are selling you a dream often without showing you all that is happening behind the scenes to make those relationships work. And, while there are some helpful guidelines, there's no "one size fits all".
And if you discover people's romantic expectations don't suit you, there are plenty of ways to experience relationships that don't need to fit neat little boxes.
Off the top of my head, I would say those would be some of the most important questions to ask yourself when you're wondering if the relationship could work and/or if it's working:
Does this person make me feel safe in the relationship,
Do I feel like I can trust them, or like I could learn to trust them as we continue getting to know each other better,
How do they respond to me when I expose my own vulnerabilities and insecurities to them (are they supportive and attempting to make themselves appear less intimidating, or are they mocking and attempting to make me feel smaller / defective),
Are they attempting to better understand me and learn to use communication styles that we'll both be comfortable using and clearly understand,
Are our respective needs and wants compatible and giving birth to mutual goals we can both work towards,
Do we make each other stronger and share a similar level of commitment to making the relationship work,
Does it enhance my level of happiness and sense of personal fulfillment in a way that makes me feel like the efforts and time I am investing in the other person are worth it?
And get ready for things potentially "not working out" despite the strong love, mutual understanding, or the amazing communication skills sometimes!
You might discover that you are extremely compatible as people, but that your life goals and objectives do not align. And you may realize you make better close trusted friends than romantic or even queerplatonic partners.
"Rejecting the partnership because you can't work together towards a mutual goal" does not have to mean "rejecting the person themselves".
And yes, you can absolutely stay close friends with an "ex" depending on the reasons that lead you to "break up".
When there's no abuse involved, and it's mostly a question of incompatible goals / lifestyles, there's no reason why you should cast each other from your respective lives.
So, I guess the big takeaway from this is that human partnerships are very complex dynamics that require a lot of time and effort to build and make work. But if you do find a good partner for you (or good partners, as polyamory is also a thing), they can offer you some added sense of safety, understanding, happiness and strength in your life.
Dating thoughts: I envy all the people who met someone for one or two times and already tell everyone: they are the love of my life.“
Of course this is most often not the reality but I wish I could have this confidence, instead I struggle with a lot of aspects
For example many of my female friends told me it is totally normal that some people do not want to hold hands etc in public before a relationship is not official. But I think it is kinda frustrating not to steal a touch here and there.
Never being in a relationship ever before gives me - on the one hand - the freedom to not care about all the bullshit rules people apparently have made up, but - on the other hand - lets me struggle a lot because I do not understand all the rules and immediately interpret it as an rejection
But how to address that without coming off as clingy and hysterical? I don’t think that’s possible.
So I just sit here and wonder.
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