#a reluctant Santa

[franticvampirereads]

December has been one of my most successful reading months in a really long time! I think I finished 9 (?) book and I honestly don’t remember the last time that happened. 😊 So, here’s what I read in this month:

Circle of Magic books 1 & 2 5 ⭐️ {review}

Shelter In Garnet Run 5 ⭐️ {review}

A Short Holiday 4 ⭐️

A Reluctant Santa 4 ⭐️ {review}

Santa’s Favorite DNF @ 50%

Victor & Nora: A Gotham Love Story 3.25 ⭐️ {review}

Captive Prince 5⭐️ {review}

The Training of Erasmus 4⭐️

Let Your Hearts Be Light -currently reading and hoping to have done before midnight!

My favorite books this month were Shelter In Garnet Run, Captive Prince, and Let Your Hearts Be Light. I’m so happy with everything I read this month!

[sototallynormaliswear]

I'm kinda bummed that more people don't care for Isaac and Stiles' canon dynamic

you put them anywhere near each other, they are already fighting, insulting everything about each other, the haircut the trauma the outfit, no bars held. Isaac puts his hand too close to Stiles' face, stiles bites him. they have a staring contest while Isaac slooooowly pushes all of his stuff to the ground

but Isaac is one of the only people to go "hey stiles I think you're really fucked up are you straight up dying??" and stiles refuses to answer so Isaac is immediately more on edge. and Isaac was trusted to finally trap the nogistune, which I imagine stiles would have some pretty heavy sway over.

also, the scene at the lunch table? "you could try being helpful for once" "for half my childhood I was locked in a freezer so being helpful is kinda new to me" "you still milking that?" it's so easy to read this as stiles being a dick (because he kinda is) but watching back season two, Isaac is actually fairly reluctant to talk about his father, even to people that FOR SURE know what happened. further more, stiles just doesn't care in the same way about the pack that other characters do, so the pack isn't trying to justify themselves to him. so Isaac doesn't want to talk about it and stiles isn't pressuring him, but suddenly its four months later and Isaac is bringing it up casually and stiles isn't surprised about ANY of that. and they both refuse to skate around it despite that fact that that is one of their strongest skills. whether or not Isaac actually uses his father's abuse as a way to get out it isn't QUITE as interesting as the way that the two of them seem comfortable talking about it, especially when everyone around them DOES seem visibly uncomfortable

anyway. those two are my favorite pair of angry cats. they would die for each other. last week Isaac ate Stiles' homework. about a month ago stiles broke into his house to hide his spoons. they got each other for secret santa, Isaac got him a box full of pennies and a bottle of his mom's perfume stiles got him bottles of dirt and a handknit scarf

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Devil And An Angel

Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: During one of Tony's parties, both of your girlfriends tease you and try to tempt you into giving into your sinful desires.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Threesome, Strap-ons, Fingering, Oral sex, Double Penetration, Dirty talk, Praise, Squirting, Dom Natasha/Switch Wanda/Switch Reader, Brief Aftercare.

General Masterlist

“Are you really not going to tell me?” you complain, looking between both your girlfriends with a small pout.

“You’ll find out soon enough Kotenok,” Natasha coos, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at the action before remembering how you were supposed to be acting grumpy.

“But why can’t I know now?” they laugh at how eager you are to find out what they are going to wear. Tony had decided to throw a party tonight, every couple/relationship must dress up as something together to change it up a bit and have some fun. The problem was, your two girlfriends were reluctant to tell you what they were dressing up as and assured you that anything you wore would be fine.

“Because it’s a surprise,” Wanda says while wrapping her arms around your middle and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now go and get ready and we’ll meet you at the party.” Grumbling, you left to go and get ready, imagining what they could have installed for you.

When you arrived at the party you had to give Tony his dues, the party looked amazing and it was a brilliant idea to have people dress up. You looked around trying to figure out what people were meant to be, smiling at how much effort everyone had put in. Steve and Bucky had dressed up as people from the 1940s, their old fashioned clothing probably from their youth. Peter and MJ were dressed as mad scientists, Peter fluffing his hair up to look crazy and constantly checking to see if it was alright, much to MJ’s amusement. Clint looked so done with the whole party despite it just starting, dressed up in a Santa costume that was from when he pretended to be the jolly man at Christmas for his children. Laura wore an elf hat and a simple dress that suited her, but she was too busy trying not to laugh at her husband. Tony and Pepper just looked incredible, their theme most likely meant to scream money and wealth.

Suddenly, you felt two people lean on your shoulders, their different perfumes invading your senses as you turned to look at them. On your left was Natasha who was dressed in a tight red dress that left little to the imagination, devil horns sticking out of her fiery red hair, black, smokey eyeshadow making her eyes pop and a sinister smirk on her face. Wanda was on your right, dressed in a white, flowy dress with a gold halo in her hair, a soft look on her face compared to Natasha. You chuckled at them, dressed as a Devil and an Angel on each of your shoulders.

“You both look beautiful,” the compliment causes them both to smile at you, the two of them having a turn to compliment your choice of clothing as well. You leaned in to give Wanda a kiss, innocent and sweet, and then turned to Natasha who had no shame in sliding her tongue into your mouth, a small moan escaping you at the action.

“Don’t be tempted by her,” Wanda whispered in your ear, her voice soft while her arm interlocked with yours. “Or there will be no reward later.” You stifled the noise that wanted to come out and just watched as Natasha winked at you before walking off.

Wanda and yourself followed behind and you had to try your hardest to not drift your gaze lower on Natasha’s back. The three of you ended up on a sofa talking with Steve and Bucky, them rambling on about a story from their past while you three nodded along. You were paying attention until Natasha moved closer, her mouth on your ear as her breath tickled the side of your face.

“Do you know how hard I want to fuck you right now?” she purred quietly, “Have you trembling with pleasure as I thrust my fingers deep inside you? Or even better, my cock.” You groan at her words, low enough that no one other than Natasha could hear, making her smirk in victory as she works you up. Her hand grips your thigh, squeezing the skin and moving up higher teasingly before drifting down to rest on your knee. “I could have you coming in my mouth right now in that bathroom,” her gaze travels to the ladies room on the other side of the room, your eyes following as they darken with lust. “Come on, let's have some fun,” she bites down on your ear while no one looks before pulling away and giving you a predatory look that sends another wave of arousal through you, your panties definitely soaked as you clench your thighs together.

After a few moments, Natasha excuses herself to the toilets, her eyes staying trained on you as she gets up and starts to walk away. You remember Wanda’s earlier words and reluctantly stay still in your seat. You know this is a test, Natasha staying true to her outfit and trying to get you to sin with her, give into her temptation and end up with a punishment equivalent to hell. That however doesn’t make it any easier as you suffer with the results of her dirty words and teasing.

You don’t realise that Steve and Bucky had left, leaving you alone with Wanda as Natasha waits out in the bathroom to see if you crack. Her touches are far more innocent that Natasha’s, her hands interlocking with yours, her thumb running over the back of your hand.

“You’re being such a good girl,” she whispers, the praise making you whine slightly. “I bet you’re so wet for us both right now,” your eyes widen at her words, not expecting her to be in on the teasing.

“I thought angels were supposed to be innocent and pure,” you say, hoping she’d stop the torment. She just lets out a low chuckle and smiles at you, making you nervous for what else was to come.

“The devil was an angel once,” she comments, her voice raspy and sultry, “Who says we can’t be tempted as well.” Her hand goes to your thigh, scratching through your clothing and even going as far as your inner thigh near your core to draw invisible patterns. Your breathing hitches and you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything.

Soon Natasha returns, having given up waiting for you, and takes her seat to your left again. She notices the prominent blush on your cheeks and how your hand is gripping the cushion of the sofa, knuckles almost turning white.

“So Y/n,” Natasha starts, drawing your attention away from Wanda’s hand on your leg, “Are you enjoying the party?” you go to answer her question but your breathing stops when your thoughts change.

You’re tied to the bed while Natasha roughly kisses your lips, pulling out moan after moan as her tongue explores the roof of your mouth. Her hands grope at your chest, pinching and pulling at your nipples causing sighs to leave your lips. Wanda was in between your thighs, looking up at you with an innocent look, and licked a stripe up your core, her tongue gathering the wetness that was dripping out of you.

“It’s rude to ignore people,” the spy moves closer to you, her chest pressed up against your shoulder as she talks into your ear. “I’ll ask you one more time,” You look over to Wanda who has a sly grin on her face before Natasha grabs your attention again by sucking on your neck, “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” is all you could manage out in a breathless whisper, mind clouded with arousal and desire as both women relentlessly tease you.

“Are you sure?” Wanda whispers in your other ear, the hand that was teasing your inner thighs moving to drag her fingers over your clothed pussy under your dress, the fabric soaked with your arousal. “Because I'm sure there are more exciting things we could be doing,” you stifle a moan when she starts to circle your clit through your panties and move your hand to sit on top of hers.

“I just want to be good,” your whine has them both grinning, “I’ll do anything you want me to, just please let me be good for you.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Natasha drags you away towards the elevator to get to your shared apartment, Wanda quickly on your tail.

Once you reach the bedroom, Natasha immediately straddles you on the bed, her mouth descending onto yours as she roughly kisses you and slips her tongue into your mouth. The whole thing is hot, her hands tugging your hair to pull moans out of you, her tongue tracing the roof of your mouth while her hips grind down harshly onto yours as she uses you for her own pleasure for the moment. Instinctively, your hands go to her waist, guiding her movements as she ruts against you.

“Fuck,” she rasps out as you both pull away breathless, Wanda unzipping the spy’s dress as she climbs off your lap and passionately kisses the witch. You watch in awe as their tongues fight for dominance, hands roaming freely across each other's body as they undress each other. You can’t move, frozen on the spot as bare skin is exposed to you, Natasha’s red dress dropping to the floor while Wanda’s is pulled over her head and discarded carelessly somewhere. They wear lingerie matching their outfits, Natasha wearing a black and red lace set while Wanda has a gold and white one on.

“Enjoying the show?” Wanda teases, swaying her hips as they both crawl onto the bed to join you. Her lips crash to yours, nothing innocent about her now as her hands rid you of your clothes. Natasha is now behind you, her chest pressing into your back while she bites at your neck, littering you with purple and red marks and sighing wantonly against your ear to make you shudder. Wanda’s hands cup your breasts unceremoniously as you revel in the pleasure, her running her fingers over your hardened nipples and tugging playfully. You lean your head back onto Natasha who moves to nibble on your ear, her hand coming up to rest on your throat, a pitiful moan escaping you.

“Don’t worry Kotenok,” She purrs, “You’ll get what you want soon.” You can feel her smirking into your skin as your hips buck at the contact of her knee slotting between your legs. “But first Wanda has a question, Don’t you Wands?” Her green eyes snap over to the witch who pulls back from the sloppy kiss with you, her cheeks flushed and eyes darkening.

“How do you feel about you and Nat fucking me at the same time?” she whispers against your lips and your eyes widen at the question.

“Fuck that would be hot,” you sigh out, imagining Wanda in between you and the spy as you pound into her from both sides. “Are you sure you want that?” She bites her lip at you sultrily and nods her head before moving forwards to press her lips back to yours.

“On your back baby,” she husks out between kisses and you move away from them both to lay on your back near the top of the bed. Wanda kisses down your body, licking over the marks Natasha made soothingly before ghosting her hot breath over your nipples and then kissing your inner thighs that were slick with your desire for them. “I’m going to give you your reward for being so good for us,” Her breath fans over your core, your hips bucking at the feeling which causes her to place a strong hand on your hip to keep you still. She licks through your folds, her tongue swirling around your clit while her free hand moves to be near your entrance. Her fingers gather your wetness before she thrusts two fingers straight into you, your back arching off the bed as you let out a guttural moan. Her mouth sucks at your clit while she pumps her fingers into you, your hands fisting in her hair as she eats you out

Moans pour out of your mouth when she curls her fingers and you almost scream when you feel her moan into you loudly. Your eyes wander away from the brunette between your thighs and to the redhead behind her. You hear a click of a bottle and assume she’s used some lube to ease one of her fingers into Wanda’s tight hole and let her get used to the feeling and stretch. Wanda’s face moves to kiss at your thigh for a moment, trying to get used to the feeling of something in her ass before continuing to reward you. You softly stroke her hair and let her take her time and watch as Natasha moves to have Wanda sit on her face, her finger slowly stretching her tight hole out.

The room then fills with your moans and Wanda’s muffled ones as Natasha brings her close to coming and manages to work her up to having three fingers pumping in and out of her ass. Your legs tighten around Wanda’s face as you come with a scream, body spasming with pleasure as you ride out your high grinding against the witches mouth. She follows soon after, clenching around Natasha’s fingers and tongue as she screams into you, biting down on your inner thigh to muffle the scream. The feeling was painful but also pleasurable and you’re certain you're going to have a dark mark there later on.

Natasha moves from under her, not wanting to overstimulate her, and carefully pulls her fingers out. You pull Wanda up your body, peppering kisses over her face as she tries to steady her breathing.

“You did so well for us,” you praise, still breathless from your own mind blowing orgasm as you talk to her. She hums in response and slowly kisses you, the taste of yourself on her tongue making you moan into her mouth. “Are you still up for us both?” you whisper against her lips, your hands stroking her back as she presses her body weight onto you.

“Yeah,” she murmurs back and you see Natasha move to get the strap ons before lubing them both up so it doesn't hurt her.

“Remember your safewords?” Natasha asks while Wanda gets off you so you can put the harness on.

“Green for ok, Yellow for slow down and Red for Stop,” Natasha smiles at Wanda softly then pecks her lips and helps guide her to hover above your plastic cock. Your hands move the tip of the toy to rub against her clit teasing before letting her sink down onto it. She moans lewdly as her hips meet yours and slowly starts to rock back and forth. She braces her arms next to your head and moans into a kiss as you thrust up into her gently, her hips starting a rhythm with yours.

Natasha soon has her harness on and moves to kneel behind Wanda while her hands slow her movements down. You whisper comforting words to the brunette, checking if she’s still ok by asking her for a colour, as Natasha slowly pushes the head of the toy into her ass, a loud gasp leaving the witch as she screws her eyes shut. You’re both patient as you let Wanda adjust to the toy, Natasha soon having the whole toy inside her and letting the pain fade to pleasure.

Experimentally, Wanda moves forwards slightly then pushes back, a low groan escaping her as she enjoys the feeling of Natasha and yourself deep inside her. Natasha starts a gentle pace of thrusting in and out of her while you swallow her moans with your mouth and thrust your hips up into her. Soon Wanda starts to move in time with you both, as soon as you pull out, Natasha pushes in and vice versa and her moans become louder.

“Fuck,” she moves to lean backwards against Natasha, who wraps a firm hand around her middle to keep her upright, while your hand moves to circle her clit. “Harder,” She sighs out, the two of you listening and increasing the force at which you pump your hips into her. “Faster,” the sound of skin slapping echoes around the room as you pound into her from underneath and Natasha snaps her hips against her. Wanda’s breasts bounce with each thrust and her legs start to shake as she nears her orgasm. “Please, I’m so close, don't stop,” begs tumble out her mouth as her hips move frantically between the two of you.

With a loud scream, liquid gushes out of her around your cock as she comes, her hips stuttering as her hands grip behind her onto Natasha to stop her body from collapsing forwards. You both slow down your thrusts as she rides out her high, her legs spasming around you while her hands fall off the spy to rest on your chest while she pants for breath. Natasha kisses along her neck and back while she calms down and when you see her wince at the feeling of being so full, you motion for Natasha to slowly pull out. She whines at the motion and soon moves off your lap to lay on the bed next to you.

You quickly discard the harness while Natasha moves to the bathroom to start a bath for you three and pull the witch close to you to murmur praise to her. Her body naturally moves towards you, her face tucked into your neck as she tries to fall asleep, her body exhausted from coming so hard. When Natasha returns, you carry her to the bath and gently lower her in and climb in behind her so she can lean back into your embrace. Natasha also climbs in, helping clean Wanda off and start her aftercare before quickly washing herself from any sweat.

“Are you ready for bed milaya?” Natasha murmurs into the witch’s hair after placing a soft kiss. She nodded back sleepily and the spy helped her dry off before taking her to bed. You quickly drain the tub and dry off yourself before joining them in bed. Wanda curls her body into Natasha but when she feels your presence next to her, she moves her hand back in search of yours and she places it around her middle. You smile at her drowsy actions and kiss them both goodnight before drifting off to sleep.

[tieronecrush]

office party

javier peña x f!reader

summary: your friend with benefits, javier, is your plus one for your dreaded office holiday party. when a coworker gets a bit too comfortable, javier steps in and shows you exactly how he feels about you.

rating: M

wc: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of sex, inappropriate advances from coworker, fwb, probably missing some so lmk what!!

a/n: my contribution to @pedrostories secret santa event!! was a busy holiday season so i wish i could have done more but excited to participate nonetheless. i hope you enjoy @flightlessangelwings and happy holidays to you!!! and tysm my love @northernbluess for proofing

dividers by @saradika

“Christ, where is he? Gettin’ freezing out here…” you mumble to yourself, gritted through your teeth as you stand shivering in your party attire — a tasteful black velvet cocktail dress, hem stopping a couple of inches above your knees and long sleeves with a sweetheart neckline. Fidgeting with your charm necklace, you nervously scan the entrance stairs to the history museum for the familiar face.

It’s the night before your office lets out for the holidays, and it’s also the night they host their annual holiday party. Even though it was quite the affair and your large law firm spares no expense for the event, you never really looked forward to being confronted with colleagues in ways you didn’t need to see them, and there was usually one man who would hit on you. Open bar, catered food, always in a gorgeous venue, it was a recipe for a great time or a horrible time, depending on your found company for the night. This year was the history museum, one of your favorite spots in the city. The daydreams you’ve had about taking him here pop into your mind like a flash in the pan — fleeting, and simply something to stay as a daydream.

A tinge of reluctance tugs in your gut. Was it weird to ask him here? Is he going to stand you up?

But then, there was Javier. Looking sharp as ever in a suit, one you’ve seen him in once after he stopped by yours after a late night working. Black, with a crisp white shirt and a red tie to fit into the holiday spirit. A smirk plays on his lips when he spots you, taking the stone steps two at a time as he approaches. It had taken a bit of convincing — virtually bribing — to get him to agree to be your plus one for the night, and when he did confirm that he would come along with you, the prospect of the party actually being something more bearable skyrocketed instead of the excruciating evening you usually expect.

“Hey there, querida. Why’re you waiting out in the cold for me? Debe estar congelándose. (You must be freezing.)” Javier greets you with concern knit into his brow, his big brown eyes softened and sparkling in the low streetlight. His large palms find the sides of your arms, rubbing gently to warm you up.

“Didn’t want to get pulled into the abyss alone in there,” you jest, “I don’t know if you’d have been able to find me with all the hiding I have to do from weird coworkers.”

You laugh and Javier chuckles lightheartedly, shaking his head as he relaxes in front of you. Nodding his head toward the door, he follows behind you as you lead with a hand at your lower back.

“Is there anyone I should watch out for specifically tonight? Am I gonna have to act as a bodyguard? Should I tell any of the creeps I have a gun?” Javier’s lips graze your ear as he speaks, keeping close to you when you enter and the sounds of the party erupt. A jolt runs down your spine from the intimate contact. It’s your turn to shake your head, breathing out a laugh as you limply hit your hand against his chest.

Your excitement around seeing Javier and spending more time with him was getting much more frequent and much more intense. Bordering the point where you don’t know if you can keep up the arrangement with the feelings you’re developing for him.

Friends of a few years, there’s always been a flirty undertone between you and Javier. It built up to the point that when everyone had cleared out from a dinner party at your place, Javier stayed behind to help clean up — always a gentleman — and the two of you, admittedly a bit tipsy from the wine that was flowing all night, told each other one a whim that you were attracted to each other. Both free from any ties of old relationships, you fell into an agreement: sex, great sex at that, with no strings attached. You two would remain friends and get exactly what you wanted, which was each other, without the messiness of a relationship. Something you were both jaded from.

These days, however, the lines were starting to blur on your end. Everything he did seemed to tip you further into the deep end before you finally came to terms and accepted that you had completely cannonballed into it.

Javier is a good guy. Didn’t have that reputation around town when you first met, but getting to know him in the wee hours of the morning after a few rounds, you fell fast and hard. It wasn’t until recently that you came to terms with it.

“Nobody needs the interrogation tactics or intimidation tonight, Peña.”

“Okay, okay…Tengo que asegurarme de que te traten bien. (I have to make sure you’re treated right.) One of their best employees, shouldn’t have to put up with the shit, querida.”

The air in the grand entrance of the city’s museum crackles with holiday cheer as festive decorations adorn every corner. Garland hangs around the banisters of the grand staircase that leads further into the museum, but most of the activity is in the large, marble-lined room you both stand in. Nearly every employee seems to be in attendance, people milling about in cliques and others indulging in drinking or dancing.

As both of you saunter toward the bar, the atmosphere softens with each step, the clinking of glasses and the chatter of coworkers weaving together into a cacophony of merriment. Javier grabs you two drinks, a glass of champagne for you and whiskey neat for him, toasting to the night ahead. The clinking of glasses resonates with your unspoken agreement: tonight, like every other night, would end the same way. No strings.

Amidst the swirl of laughter and twinkling lights, and the loosening power of liquor, the boundary between friendship and something deeper becomes increasingly blurred. Flirty comments dance back and forth, charged with an unspoken tension that lingers beneath the surface.

“You look beautiful tonight, cariño. How come I haven’t seen this dress before?” Javier asks, the two of you standing at a cocktail table, alone and enjoying it.

“Guess you’d have to be my plus one more often, Javi. Then you could see all the dresses in my closet,” you counter, smirking playfully and biting back the desire to mention something akin to a real date for both of you.

“Guess so, querida. Might have to make this a regular thing.” Javier sends you a wink before clinking your glasses together in another smaller toast, a smirk painting his face as he lifts the tumbler to his mouth for a sip.

With every exchanged glance and teasing remark, it’s evident that you’re tiptoeing on the edge of uncharted territory, yearning to express feelings that had long been confined. It’s unclear if Javier feels the same, but soft touches and gentle words ply you open even further, teetering with falling completely.

Then, amidst the dance of emotions and flirtations, a coworker appears in the corner of your eye, sauntering toward the table and bursting the privacy bubble that you happily curated with Javier. His name’s Jake, a man around your age who is friendly with you in the office, sociable guy with one of those “winning” personalities the partners would compliment endlessly. A guy’s guy. But one that had no problem approaching the women in the office. With a warm smile, he extends a hand towards the man at your side, introducing himself with an easy charm that seemed almost too perfect — of course, referring to Javier already as his ‘buddy’. The hint of jealousy that flickers across Javier's face doesn’t escape your notice, and you can’t help but feel a tingle of endearment for his slightly soured mood from being interrupted.

As the night progresses, Jake's alcohol-infused attempt at camaraderie with you grows increasingly unwelcome. He’d been watching you like a hawk so far, cutting in whenever Javier left to grab more drinks or when another coworker pulled his attention away to try to pick his brain about all that’s happening in the government right now. Inching closer to you, Jake leans against the hightop table, making conversation with slurred words and uninhibited want behind his eyes.

When you shift slightly away, attempting to remain civil enough at a work event, you feel yourself bump into Javier. 

At that moment, Javier turns to see if you tapped him to grab his attention, but is met with the clear look of discomfort on your face. Jake leaning in closer, eyes wandering as you responded in the conversation, clearly attempting to check you out. Frustration toward the man in front of you lit in his chest, holding himself back from confronting him and instead fully embracing his purpose for the night. If he was invited as your date, he could act like it, right?

His arm wraps around you possessively, his lips pressing kisses on your temple, and whispered words meant to keep you close. Surprised at first, but happy to feel closer to him and to relish in the protective boyfriend persona, even if it is only to keep a creep away from you.

Jake, seemingly oblivious to the change in dynamics, spoke up louder, laying a hand on your arm and squeezing, “So you ever wanna cut out of work early and get a drink? Maybe end up back at my place? You can wear that dress.”

The proposition sends a ripple of discomfort through the air. Other coworkers turn away, ignoring the advance that left you shocked and speechless. But, Javier, now fully immersed in his role, takes a stern tone, cutting in and gently maneuvering you behind him.

“Hey, cabrón, why don’t you apologize for speaking to her like that?” Javier instructs, nodding to you while your hands wrap around his arm closest to you. “Or am I going to have to find one of your supervisors and tell them all this shit myself? Don’t speak to her again, or even look at her. And I will know if you do — I’ve got eyes everywhere, buddy.”

The look on Jake’s face makes you laugh softly from behind Javier, shaking your head as he backs away and leaves with his tail between his legs. Javier turns to you, wrapping you up in one of his arms and brushing his fingers softly against your cheek.

Concern softens his eyes, the same look that he greeted you with when he found you waiting in the cold, “You alright, cariño? Fucking asshole. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, should report him or something.”

“I’m alright, Javi. Thank you…You didn’t have to—”

Javier shakes his head, smiling with one side of his mouth and kissing your forehead, “‘Course I did. Can’t let anyone talk to you like that.”

You lean into his chest and smile, lightening the mood with a playful comment, “Seemed pretty comfortable being threatening. Did it bring you back to the good ol’ days being a sheriff?”

Ever the master of evasion, Javier shrugs it off with a casual demeanor, attempting to maintain the façade of indifference with a nod, “Sure did. But they weren’t the good ol’ days.”

Hearing the smile in his voice causes a wave of affection for him that washes over you, coming to the realization that it’s either now or never. A surge of courage propels you to take the leap, confessing the fact that you see more with Javier, that you want more with him.

“I know we said no strings, and it was like that at first, but the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I’ve found that I love you. And you can absolutely walk away and nothing will be held against you, but I can’t keep up with this if I can’t tell you how I feel.”

The atmosphere between you shifts, and for a moment, the world seems to stop entirely.

Javier's eyes softened, and with a sincerity that catches you off guard, he shares a confession too, “Querida, I fell in love with you in the first moment I met you. The second I kissed you for the first time was when I realized it. I thought maybe I could keep it all in, ‘cause I didn’t want to lose you as a friend and just as a part of my life, but I love you, cariño. Have since I heard that laugh of yours and saw that gorgeous smile. And I haven’t felt the same way I feel about you for anyone else before.”

In that moment of vulnerability, the boundaries that confined your actions shatter, opening up a door, wide and clear, for you to walk through and never close.

Away from the crowded party, you find yourselves standing in a doorway adorned with sprigs of mistletoe, a symbol of serendipity. Under the soft glow of the festive lights, Javier takes a step closer, and his lips meet yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. His hand caresses your cheek, one arm wrapping around your waist while yours rest around his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

As you break apart, Javier looks into your eyes, a sincerity shining through that mirrored the twinkle of holiday lights.

"I love you," he confesses, the words hanging in the air like the melody of a cherished carol.

“I love you, too,” you return, a glowing smile and feeling giddy for the rest of the holiday season with Javier.

taglist: @northernbluess @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @kiwisbell @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic

[lokisgoodgirl]

Welcome to the Masterlist for The Lakes. A series (yes, series) which I hope will be a staple of your autumnal days alongside steaming tea, cosy candles and thick, fluffy blankets.

This series is complete.

A Link to my regular Masterlist is HERE

The Lakes: Captain Rogers in his infinite wisdom has decided that a select team of Avengers require a crash course in basic outdoor survival skills. Location? The Lake District, England.

In the crisp chill of autumn, based out of a tiny and remote cottage, your reluctant role as the resident 'expert' is put to the test. But nothing the wilds of Cumbria can throw is more testing than the ever-present irritations and temptations of your recent ex, Loki.

Warnings: More domestic humour, thirst, mild angst and fluff than smut. Although there is some smut obviously, because I have a problem.

Characters: Agent Reader (no YN), Loki, Thor, Steve

Each chapter will have a suggested vibe setting track from Taylor Swift's Folklore which is appropriate but entirely optional.

Chapter-Cottage🏕️ 1. Changing Seasons (w/c 3.8k) 2. Sticks and Stones : (w/c 4.8k) 3. A Long Way Down (w/c 4.6k) 4. Home Truths (w/c 4.5k) 5. A Cunning Plan - (w/c 4.7k) 6. Darkest Night, Brightest Day (w/c 6.2k) 7. Harvest -(w/c 6.2k)

Christmas Specials 8. Secretive Santa (w/c 7.3k) 9. Comfort & Joy (w/c 7.8k)

[astrumavis]

Hey there @greetings-from-the-void! I was your secret santa for this years dreblr secret santa event organized by @dreblrsecretsanta :3 I took your suggestions and drew c!Dream with Patches. That one particularly caught my eye, because of how interesting it is. I imagine that c!Dream would be slightly confused, maybe feel a little reluctant, especially after loosing so many other pets. But overall I think they'd get along very well :3

Cheers !

[doumadono]

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! villain!Hawks, f!Reader, non-con, taken captive, elements of necrophilia, murder, blood, bondage, forced orgasm, unprotected and rough p in v, Hawks is an ass here, minors absolutely do not interact - a kitten dies if a minor reads this! Synopsis: Hawks has some "fun" with you after catching you spying for the Commission A/N: this story was written for @lewed and it's a contribution for the Secret Santa event hosted by a wonderful @ectologia

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

Pain. As you slowly opened your eyes, it was the first sensation that greeted you — burning, irresistible pain spreading throughout your body.

The surroundings were dark, and you found yourself uncertain of whether you were still alive or perhaps already dead. Attempting to move, you realized the cold sensation around your wrists indicated the presence of some form of handcuffs.

"Marlene!" You whimpered quietly. "Marlene!"

There was no response, only a lingering, eerie silence.

You tried to move, but you couldn't — your legs felt numb, and you were tethered to some metallic structure. Your entire body ached; every attempt to shift, every shallow breath, was accompanied by pain.

Suddenly, a metallic lock clicked open with a key, and a stream of light flooded the room for a moment before disappearing as a tall, dark silhouette stepped in, closing the door. A few seconds later, a dim light illuminated part of the room as two old lamps hanging on either side of the door flickered to life.

You caught sight of him, and your blood turned icy cold. 

Thick combat boots, dark pants paired with a fitted black t-shirt adorned with golden patterns, and a pair of massive red wings. 

You shook your head, still reluctant to believe your own eyes. "Where's my friend?" you inquired anxiously.

"She's alive," came the calm response from the man with red wings.

A glimmer of hope sparked in your eyes. "Can I see her?"

There was a measured pause before the answer, "If you cooperate."

Your dry, blink-filled gaze met his. His emaciated face betrayed no hint of the intentions behind those words.

Hawks observed as you settled into the discomfort, bound wrists and ankles causing a persistent ache. The worry emanated from you, a palpable scent of pungent sweat, akin to a cornered prey navigating the uncertain terrain.

Hawks fixed his gaze on you for an extended moment, a silent observer in the dimly illuminated room cast by the faint light of aged lamps near the sturdy metal door. 

Slowly, he withdrew to the room's shadows, disappearing momentarily. Amongst a collection of cartoon boxes, a triumphant grin crossed his face as he discovered his sought-after item – a hefty hammer. Returning to your vicinity, he playfully toyed with the ominous tool in his grasp.

"Please, let me go. I won't breathe a word to anyone," you pleaded, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure.

His grin widened, feathers rustling slightly. "Oh, I wish I could, little one. But we've stumbled upon a problem. You and your best friend have gotten a bit too close to the truth about me and my colleagues from the League. Weren't you warned about the dangers of working for the Commission?”

“Please, I swear I won't tell anyone…”

Takami approached you with a frown, his golden eyes bearing a weight of seriousness and intrusion. With a rough hand, he tightly pulled back your hair. "I've made it clear before – cooperation is the only ticket out of the mess you've landed yourself in.” He set the hammer down.

"Please," you implored, devoid of weapons or the freedom of your limbs. Contemplating the distance, a fleeting thought of a potential headbutt crossed your mind. Standing could be an advantage. However, all these options dissipated as a tear traced down your cheek. His hand, not occupied with your hair, coiled around your neck, constricting your airflow. A soft sound escaped you, but as his grip weakened, you hastily gulped in air.

"Good girl. Breathe while you still can," he remarked, his hand tenderly patting back your hair, while your eyes held a bitter scorn.

"Please, take me to my friend. What have you done with her?" you pleaded.

"Oh, she's safe. For now," Hawks declared, rising to his full height. 

Your eyes scrutinized the young man, assessing every detail. There was a darkness in his aura, a stark contrast to the times when Hawks, the former Pro Hero Number Two, was known for helping people. Something had transpired between him and the Commission, and the Hawks people once adored had transformed into a ruthless villain, now one of the most perilous figures in Japan.

Hawks firmly gripped you under the armpits, drawing you in close. Thick ropes of chain encumbered your feet, challenging your balance. Your wrists and ass clung to the pole you were tethered to, seeking stability as the shackles jingled against the unforgiving metal pillar. 

His presence pressed down on you, and you cowered beneath its weight. A hand delicately traced your jaw, toying with your dry and rough lips under his thumb. “When I tell you what I want, you’ll do exactly as I say. You wouldn't want to witness the way darkness emanates from me when I command it, girl. Mind your tone and follow my instructions. Once I'm content with you, I'll allow you to see your friend," the former hero warned.

Your whimper lingered as his thumb persisted, applying pressure to the edge of your lip. It delved in, moistening against your tongue as it pressed against the intrusion.

“Suck,” he commanded. 

You vehemently shook your head in defiance, resisting against him. The notion of biting his thumb crossed your mind, perhaps even snapping it off. You strained to lean your head back, attempting to evade his grasp.

“Don’t try anything. If you do, I hurt her,” Hawks warned with an amused grin glued to his lips.

Your eyelids descended, halting an approaching flood of tears. Sealing your mouth around his digit, you sucked as per his request. His thumb pressed in deeper, and you complied.

"Good girl, yes. That'll do quite well. Now, back on your knees," he directed.

You obeyed, using your bound hands to steady yourself as you half-fell.

Hawks nonchalantly undid his belt, followed by his button and zipper. Darkened briefs emerged where the trousers opened in a V, and his hand slid beneath the band. “Now, open your pretty mouth for me, babybird.”

You followed his command, extending your tongue forward, a queasy sensation building within you.

"Excellent," he remarked, his hand delving beneath the thin fabric of his briefs, gradually revealing his long, veiny dick, slightly curved upward.

"Please, don't… What more do you want? We can erase all the intel we gathered!” you begged pathetically.

"Shut up, whore," he commanded, stroking his growing member. "I don't want anything but this from you. It might be the only thing you're good for, I think. Lick," he instructed, rubbing the reddened, swollen tip of his dick against your tongue. "Wet your tongue again for me, babybird."

You swallowed and opened your mouth wide once more. 

He positioned himself against you, and your lips instinctively sucked. A salty bitterness lingered on your palate as your curious tongue explored the head of his cock.

Hawks hissed as the tip of your tongue flicked the sensitive part of his frenulum underneath. "That's right," he affirmed, pushing in deeper, causing your cheeks to bulge. Takami ran his slim fingers through your hair, keeping you steady on his cock. Pulling out just enough to watch saliva stretch from your lips to his shaft, he thrust back in, repeating the motion until you emitted a desperate noise, gagging yourself on his dick.

"Good girl. That's enough of that for now. You just saved your girlfriend from a beating. She'll appreciate that when she wakes up from her last one." Takami grinned as he rubbed the tip of his erection across your swollen lips, wiping away a fallen tear from your cheek before moving behind you. He worked at the shackles around your wrists.

You felt them loosen and drop, but his hand replaced them, gripping you firmly. He pulled you against the pole, the cold metal burning your neck. As he lifted the white shirt from your torso, you pleaded with the faceless hands to stop. The room vanished momentarily as the shirt passed over your head, landing on the floor beside you. Then, your hands were locked together once more, this time in front of you.

You shivered as the cold air filling the room grazed your exposed, bruised skin.

The restraints around your ankles were skillfully loosened with a series of subtle clicks. Your uniform pants were swiftly discarded, followed by your cotton panties, leaving you bare except for the metal-clad bindings around your wrists as you resumed your kneeling position.

A palpable shift in the room's atmosphere ensued.

Hawks, charged with desire, was visibly electrified. His engorged and reddened member pushed back into your mouth, eliciting a moan from him. "You look stunning with your mouth full of my cock," he murmured, reaching down to play with a nipple between his fingers. "And you're damn good at it." His fingers tenderly smoothed your tousled hair as he guided himself deeper into your throat. "Do you ever do this for your boyfriend, if you have one? No? But I bet you fantasize about it. Yes?" He chuckled, reveling in his revelation after your tongue flexed under the weight of his dick. "I knew it! Your boyfriend is a good boy, huh? Just the missionary routine, not letting you explore, even though deep down, you crave it. It's okay, you can imagine I'm him. I'm sure you already are, judging by how wet you're getting. Just picture me as him, but on a wild ride, eager to try something new.”

Slimy fluids trickled from your pussy, tracing a path down your thigh, the disloyal testament of desire slicking your inner folds.

His fingers continued their dance, skillfully teasing your erect nipples, each touch met with an eager response. A sharp squeeze on the left elicited a cry from you, and as he knelt before you, he drew the aching nub into his mouth. "What makes you climax, babybird? Tell me. I want it to be as pleasurable for you as possible!"

A whimper escaped your lips as his calloused finger glided through your folds, everything feeling unsettlingly taboo. A part of you yearned to resist, to break free and escape. Yet, a more primal instinct responded to his calculated touches, a primal need for closeness with a male that seemed to overpower your rational mind, corrupting it.

A creeping finger eased into your pussy. "You're so wet and tight, just look at that. Didn't want to give me a blowjob, but it's obvious it got you excited," he remarked. A second finger joined the first, curving against the walls of your vagina. The pressure felt both pleasurable and unsettling.

"Do you enjoy that, babybird?" he inquired.

You squirmed away, finding yourself seated on the floor.

He pressed your arms over your head, taking in the sight of your breasts. The supple flesh swayed like ripples on water. With one hand gripping his throbbing length and the other on your hips, he guided the two to meet. "You're making the right choice, obeying me, Y/N. I'll bring you to your friend soon. Just one more thing I need you to do for me." The head of his penis entered you gradually, a delectable stretch spreading through you.

The mingling sensations of pleasure and pain raced through you like wildfire. The boundary between anger and passion blurred, akin to smoke and cloud intertwining. "N-no," you cried, attempting to push him away by pressing your feet against his thighs.

He huffed as he thrust fully inside you, easily bottoming out. His wings fluttered as arousal overcame him. "Fuck, you're so tight, holy shit. Almost feels like you're a virgin."

An involuntary moan escaped your lips, and you cursed yourself for that.

"I just need you to do one more thing for me, babybird. I want you to cum for me. I know you can do it, little bitch."

Your eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to spill. His heated and girthy member glided in and out of your drenched pussy. The unforgiving concrete pressed against your back, each forceful thrust leaving bruises as he relentlessly drove you into the ground.

Hawks restrained your arms by holding your wrists above your head, his dominant hand skillfully working your clit. “Fuck, fuck, yes, little dove, I love how your pussy is clenching around me. You're such a good babybird.”

You futilely cursed at him, weakened by the onslaught of physical pleasure. His erection completely filled your pussy, allowing him to penetrate deeply from this angle. Despite the way he mercilessly circled your clit with his thumb, you resisted the urge to wrap your bloodied feet around him and ride his dick back. The struggle not to climax intensified as he sensed your unraveling, cruel laughter escaping him.

"Will your boyfriend ever fuck you like this? No, he'd probably be too gentle," Takami panted between words, thrusting into you with an unrelenting pace. "A girl like you craves it rough, needs it like this. A girl as scarred and desperate as you wants to feel something. A good girl always wants to be damaged. If you want to see your friends and family again, you'll cum on my cock.”

Frustration escaped your lips in a scream. Your ass throbbed, and your core pulsated with proximity to climax. The images of your friend and boyfriend flashed in your mind, intensifying your inner turmoil. In the dimly lit room, through tear-filled eyes, Hawks' face remained elusive. Your juices squelched, trickling down your sensitive skin to your asshole.

"You're holding back. Cum, and I'll take you to your girlfriend. Cum for me." Takami kissed your breasts, fingers maintaining a tantalizing rhythm on your clit, a friction you secretly enjoyed.

Your hips surged upward uncontrollably, and you were cursing the duplicity of your own desires and pussy.

"I told you to cum for me." He struck your face, the impact strong enough to briefly black out your senses.

Impatient, Hawks groaned, his throbbing cock signaling an impending climax. He dispatched a few feathers from his wings, their sharp edges slicing your skin on the shoulders and calves in an attempt to rouse you.

A loud hiss escaped your lips as the sharp cuts decorated your skin, tears streaming down your cheeks. "N-no, I don't... want to! Please! Please, don't cum in! I'm begging you! Please!’ you tried to move away but he slapped your face again.

A warmth surged through you, an irreversible tide that swept away any chance of retreat. Suppressing your moans, you felt your core tighten around him, forcing him through a final series of thrusts before he climaxed within your rhythmically clenching pussy. Your orgasm, though unexpected and unwelcome, was all-encompassing. Legs shaking, abdomen twitching, you writhed beneath his touch, attempting to muffle the sounds of pleasure, aware that he observed the explosion of pleasure within you. The sneer of his release transformed into a cruel smile.

"I knew you wouldn't be entirely worthless to me," he remarked, tucking his member away once again.

"That's so sad."

"W-what's sad?" you asked, still catching your breath. "You promised I'd be able to see my friend. Where is she?"

Hawks, unbothered by your voice and a wet stain on his pants from your combined releases after he retracted his cock, sent one of his feathers to illuminate the room while switching the lights on. 

It was then that you saw her — your friend, lifeless, naked and hanging upside down on the opposite wall, her ankles bound to the ceiling, her torso gruesomely cut from throat to vagina.

The echoes of your own screams reverberated in your ears, but the voice seemed alien, almost primal — like that of a wild animal.

Hawks approached the suspended lifeless body and callously slapped the vagina of your deceased friend. "She wasn't as cooperative as you. Unfortunately, we had to eliminate her."

Tears streamed down your face as you choked on your own sobs, struggling against the metal restraints binding your wrists. "Why! Oh God! Oh God! Marlene!"

Hawks explained, "She didn't want to listen," just as the metal door swung open. “Such a waste. I wasn't aware that preserving one's virginity was still a concern in today's girls' world. But I must say she was fucking delicious. Not as much as you, of course.”

Entering the room was none other than Dabi, casually leaning against the wall, observing the macabre scene. "Came to check what's taking you so long, birdbrain.”

"I was reuniting our lovely Y/N with her friend. She was a good, obedient girl to me, so I decided to reward her."

Dabi furrowed his brow, rolling his eyes a little. "Memory cards, birdbrain," he reminded.

Hawks casually retraced his steps to your discarded clothes, rummaging through the pockets of your uniform pants. He retrieved two SD cards and handed them to Dabi.

The scarred villain ventured further into the room, reaching for a Nikon camera on one of the shelves. "Can't wait to get off to this little tape tonight," he chuckled, shooting you a cold glance.

A lump formed in your throat. They had recorded everything — every violation inflicted by Hawks, every involuntary response of your body. Dread enveloped you.

“Please…” you whispered.

Hawks gave Dabi a look, and the other villain nodded.

"Shush, shush, shush," Dabi cooed, crouching next to you, sizing your face with his hand, turning it more to inspect it. "Don't cry. This little tape will be sent to your dad in Kyoto, a small keepsake of you. He'll be able to see your last moments. How his precious, little daughter, working so proudly in the Hero Public Safety Commission was taking villain's cock like a cheap whore. I'm sure he'll be proud."

"What... Please, please!" Your voice rose in desperation. "Please! I won't tell anyone. I can spy for you, I can do whatever you want. Please!"

Dabi observed you with amusement. "Isn't she the sweetest?" He cast a sidelong glance at Hawks before leaning forward to lick the tears off your reddened cheeks.

You winced, trying to crawl away.

Dabi grinned and rose, exiting the room. "Just don't leave a mess here. I'm not keen on cleaning up after you, birdie."

As the metal door closed, you whined like a wounded animal. Instinctively, you knew you weren't going to make it out of this situation alive.

Hawks approached you, ruffling your hair. "You were a good girl. I want you to know that."

"Please," you tried once again. "Please, free me."

He smiled at you. "I'm freeing you."

A swooshing sound filled the air, and the next moment, you were suffocating with your own blood, unable to draw a breath. The blood quickly poured down your chest through the cut throat, and soon your head hung lifelessly to the side.

Hawks lingered for a moment, watching your lifeless body. He couldn't resist slipping his hands down and between your legs, rubbing your still warm and slick folds, pushing his finger in one last time. "Such a waste," he murmured, licking his fingers clean before getting up. He used the hammer he had earlier picked up to crush the phone he retrieved from the pocket of your uniform trousers. Following that, he doused your body, as well as your friend's, and the floor in gasoline before igniting it with his lighter.

Whistling happily under his breath, he left the room and ascended the metal stairs, leaving everything that had transpired behind, not bothering to turn around even once.

[winterchimez]

A New Beginning With You | Lee Juyeon

SUMMARY: it has been a couple of years since you and your childhood best friend, Juyeon, went on your separate ways. Years later, you were given the opportunity to return to Seoul to pursue a new career, only to find out that your new employer is the one you have been dreading to see. Will you toss away all of the emotions again, or will you finally come to terms and fix this broken relationship with him?

PAIRING: ceo!Juyeon x f!reader

GENRE: office au, ex-childhood friends to lovers, coming of age, angst, fluff

WARNINGS: nc-17, slow-burn, this is pretty angsty ngl 😭, betrayal, several heart wrenching moments (it takes a while for both Juyeon and reader to figure out their emotions), language (one curse word), miscommunication, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk a couple of times, several heated arguments, petnames (princess, sweetheart), kissing

WORD COUNT: 15,466

A/N: here is my submission for deoboyznet's holiday exchange event!! boo @cloverdaisies i'm your secret santa 🎅👀 ngl i did struggle with the prompts that you gave mainly cs i don't usually read/watch coming of age works so i hope i did this fic justice 🥹🥹🥹 big big shoutout to @momhwa-agenda for choosing the banner, also helping me to beta read (along with @from-izzy @juyeonszn) sending my unending kisses and hugs to all of you 😘💕

Seven years ago 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” 

It all just felt so sudden, and you weren’t sure if you were hallucinating as you heard those words that came out from the mouth of your best friend for the past seventeen years. You both have made a promise to one another since you both were in kindergarten that no matter how big or small the situation may be, you both will always have each other’s backs and that no secrets were to be kept from one another, even if they may feel like you have been punched right into the face during the aftermath of it all. 

Or that was what you thought. 

“Y/N…I had no control over anything…you do know how my father often has to travel across the globe for his job—”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you decided to keep it a secret from me when you first discovered that you were potentially going to follow your father’s footsteps for his company.” 

From the beginning, you knew that Juyeon’s father worked at a relatively elite corporate company. Because of his status, he was often sent away to various countries to fulfill his job. It has been decades since his father has been in and out of Seoul, and he would often travel on his own not wanting to bother his family and wanting them to have a peaceful life here. 

Never in a million years would you have thought that he would bring his entire family along with him as he starts a new chapter in his life in the States, and also get Juyeon to follow in his father’s footsteps. 

You were on the verge of crying, your cheeks were heating up, and you had unintentionally balled up your fists, clearly failing terribly to suppress the anger and betrayal you felt. 

“I just don’t get it, Juyeon. You have always wanted to pursue basketball. Hell, you have even sought a sports scholarship to get into one of the prestigious universities in Seoul! Why are you giving up now?” You huffed. 

You could tell that he was showing some reluctance in his answer, and truthfully, he didn’t really know how to give you an answer, either. But he decided to reply in the most plausible and fitting one that was right for the current situation you both were in. 

“Family has to always come first, Y/N. If it were for my family's future, especially my stay-at-home mother and younger brother, I would do anything to ensure my father and I can provide for them.” 

You scoffed. “Bullshit.” 

You took a few steps forward until you were merely inches apart. Looking straight into Juyeon’s eyes, you could tell he felt the same way and was also trying to hold back his tears. 

“You’re not the Juyeon I know. My Juyeon, who has been right by my side ever since we were kids, would always go above and beyond to work for what he truly wants. He is never afraid to voice his opinion, and he would do anything to ensure his happiness would be fulfilled no matter the consequences.” 

Finally, the tears that you have held back for so long began dripping down your face as you began to hit him simultaneously on his chest.  

“What exactly happened to you, Juyeon?”

At the same time, tears clouded his vision as a single teardrop dripped onto his face. You could tell that something was holding him back from telling you the truth, if any, and his following answer would break you down even more.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

With that, a black car pulls up at the school entrance, revealing his younger brother rolling down the window to call out for his big brother. You could see multiple pieces of luggage lined up at the back trunk of the car, and they were ready to head straight to the airport. 

With a glance back to signal to his family that he would be coming shortly, he turned to you to apologise once more before gently pushing you away to leave.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I wish you all the best in your future as you enter university and eventually the workforce.” 

Just like that, Juyeon quickly sped down the stairs and opened the door to the car before settling in. Within seconds, his parents, sitting in the front seats, gave you a little wave before they drove away right through the exit. 

Almost instantly, all of the built-up tension was suddenly released from you all at once, and you finally broke down crying at the entrance of your high school. What you thought would be a memorable, happy graduation for you both as you parted ways with your youth years turned out to be one sad separation from your best friend. 

You both planned your summer holidays with one another before officially enrolling in university in the autumn. You were going to head to Busan for a five-day trip during the first month, going to visit your aunt who lived on the outskirts of Seoul to help her in her fieldwork (especially when she has a soft spot for Juyeon), and even going to visit all of the bazaars that were going to be held in central Seoul. 

There were so many potential activities and times you could have had with one another, and you were even planning to propose to Juyeon that you wanted to be more than just childhood friends. 

Because you have been having an insane crush on him since you were kids, and you realised it was love by the time you both entered high school.

Unfortunately, it was too late to confess your love to him, as he was now long gone, heading straight to the airport before he eventually said his final goodbye to his home for the past seventeen years, Seoul. 

Maybe it was fate that you both were just not meant to be with one another; perhaps it was why his father had no choice but to bring his whole family with him to start a new life in the States. 

For the first time, you cursed and blamed yourself for having such hope and planning a potential future with someone who was clearly out of your league, and you thought it had all been a waste of time since the beginning. 

With that, the little needle-felted cat you have been hiding and made last night was released from your grips as he fell towards the stairs and eventually towards the ground. As you noticed, more tears kept welling up in your eyes, and you brought both hands to cover your face, not wanting to care about anything right now. 

I shouldn’t have had so much hope. I was stupid enough actually to fall in love with you, Juyeon.

Present Day 

“Oh, Y/N! Looks like your article just got published in the London Mail this morning!” 

Your co-worker gave you a little pat on the back before he placed the newspapers right onto your desk, and it was clear how your article was published right on the front page with your name written very obviously at the right corner. 

“Please, it was nothing. It’s what I do all the time,” you replied bluntly. 

“What do you mean it was nothing? You just interviewed the rising actor of the month! That’s big news, and you deserve to celebrate it!" 

“Please, it really is nothing—” 

“Hey everyone, our department needs a little night out after work at the local pub! We’re toasting to Y/N’s big break in the news today!” 

Your co-worker shouted out loud, and eventually, cheers erupted in the office, everyone congratulating you and thinking about the potential drinks and songs they would go for once work is over. 

You smiled and chuckled at the sight. You have always loved your job and are grateful to have met such a fantastic group of people in this company. 

It wasn’t your dream to pursue the path of becoming a reporter in the beginning. Sure, you have always had a passion for writing, but you have always considered it your hobby. Thanks to your sister, who was studying abroad in Manchester then, who convinced you to take that leap of faith and turn that hobby into a potential job. 

So here you were, living the best of your life. You followed your sister’s footsteps and went on to live abroad in the UK, enrolling in the University of Manchester, where you successfully graduated with honours the past year. Thankfully, you secured a place in the London Mail right after graduation due to your outstanding grades. 

The move from Manchester to London was a bit tough, but you initially managed to pull through with your sister and her boyfriend's help. They were kind enough to help you settle down and stayed with you for the first couple weeks before returning to Manchester. You miss your sister’s presence, but you know that eventually, you had to venture out on your own and face reality as an adult. 

It has been a year, and you have adapted to living alone. Often, things would get tough, but it was also thanks to you having such a fantastic team of colleagues that you were able to pull through it all, even when there were times you had to work overtime to fulfill all of the datelines that were pilling up nonstop, especially during the holiday seasons. 

It wasn’t until recently that your article was accepted and published on the main cover page of the news, and that was when you finally earned your big break after a year. The company has deemed you to be one of the most talented youngsters they have had over the past decade, and they were more than happy to have had you as their employee. 

Since then, things have settled down for you as you got a pay rise and had fewer hours to give you more time to rest well, mainly when you only survived with four to five hours of sleep daily. Now, you can eat your breakfast correctly and get a good seven to eight hours of sleep before coming every day. 

Just as your co-workers were having the time of their lives trying to figure out the plans for tonight after work, your office desk telephone rang, and you picked it up hastily, thinking that you’d have another big scoop to write about

But it was from the CEO. 

“Miss Y/N, please report to my office immediately.”

You were back home after that fun night out at your local pub with your co-workers, holding a beer in hand as you FaceTime your sister over the phone. 

“Well, it’s a good opportunity for you, don’t you think, Y/N?” 

“I’m not too sure about all of this, sis. Like yeah, it would be great that I would be back home, but still—”

“Hey, I know mom would be ecstatic to have you back in Seoul with her. And it just so happened that you have been telling me how you recently began feeling a little homesick. I’d say it would be great for you to take up the offer.” She reassured. 

It was the moment your mouth fell open wide when you heard that you had been offered to be a senior reporter for one of Seoul’s top magazines at the moment, GQ Korea, where you would be interviewing potentially all of the current well-known celebrities in the country and getting a higher pay as well. 

It seems that they have come across your contributions from the London Mail, and they were keen to have you on their team. Your first thought was grateful as your works were recognised globally, but also because you miss being home. But another part of you has already settled in the UK, so you weren’t sure if leaving now would be the right choice. 

But now that your sister has given you some input, that was when you knew that it wouldn’t hurt to try it out, at the very least. 

With one final sip of your beer, you leaned forward and gave your sister a smile for the first time since calling her this evening. 

“I’m going home now, sis.”

It has been a week since you settled into Seoul, and you have loved being back in your comfort zone: the culture, the food, and the environment you grew up in. 

Your mom was overjoyed as she picked you up from the airport, insisting she would take your luggage, especially when you have flown almost twenty-four hours just to get home. By the time you got home, your mom was already ready and prepared with all the dishes she had premade before your arrival and needed to heat them quickly. 

You quickly took a shower before joining her at the dining table. You both chatted for close to midnight before she told you she would sleep ahead of you. Meanwhile, you decided to clean up your childhood bedroom to make space for everything you brought back from London. 

There was this nostalgia as you entered your room; everything was still the same, exactly how you had left it when you left for the UK years ago. The same old blue painting on the wall, all your posters hung on them, even your favourite comic books that were still arranged nicely on your bookshelf. 

You could tell there wasn’t a speck of dust in the room, indicating that your mom must have cleaned it occasionally. You couldn’t help but sigh, thinking about all the hard work she always puts herself through. 

It took you a while to go through all your belongings, mainly because you were reminiscing as you looked at the pictures, books, and figurines scattered throughout your room.

It wasn’t until you came across a box tucked away at the corners of your room that you pulled them out towards the centre as you opened them up. 

And god, you wished you hadn’t done that. 

All the pictures and items contained memories you had with your past lover, Lee Juyeon. 

You paused momentarily before reaching out to pick up the first item on top of the box: a picture. 

It was taken when you both were in kindergarten. You were holding hands, wearing backpacks and little yellow helmets on your heads. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight; it was nostalgic and cute. 

Right after that, you took out a pair of bracelets right below the picture. It was a friendship bracelet that you both made during middle school. It was summer when you recently discovered the trend of making friendship bracelets, where you went straight to Juyeon’s house across the street, practically dragged him back to your house, and got him to make one with you. You giggled at the thought of how Juyeon was so lost at the time, having to come to you almost every five seconds to tell you that he had either lost a piece or was having trouble threading the beads through the string. 

When you thought it would all be good memories, you stumbled upon the one item you wished you would not have to see again.

The needle-felted cat you made for him on the night before graduation. 

Unbeknownst to you, your hands began to tremble as you took the cat into your hands, staring at it as the memories flashed back: how you would give this to Juyeon and tell him that you were ready to be more than just close friends, up to the point of how he suddenly announced to you that he was leaving for good. 

Slowly, you felt that your tears were beginning to well up in your eyes, and you quickly dumped all of the items back into the box and tucked them back in the corner, using a few items you had in your room, such as cardboard to block it completely out of sight. 

You were not ready to go through all of the roller coasters of emotion once again. 

Especially when deep down in your heart, you still had some feelings left for him. Even if you did not wish to admit it out loud.

You stood outside the tall building as you tried your best to fix up the blazer that your mum insisted you put on for your big day. With your handbag and laptop, you gave yourself a deep breath before mentally preparing yourself that this would be your new workplace from now on. 

You looked to see the vast sign plastered outside the building: GQ Korea. You were definitely at the right place. It took you a few seconds to finally be able to take your very first steps into the building. Once you did, you were amazed at the astonishing art that filled the reception floor. It was a fashion and art magazine; after all, there was no doubt that the company's directors entailed such a choice of decorations to captivate everyone who walked into their building. 

You walked straight towards the counter, where you were greeted by two ladies who were already expecting your arrival. Immediately, they got you signed up in the system, and one guided you to one of the fifth floors, where you would be meeting your new team and department that you would be working with. 

As you were guided into the head of the department’s office, Ms Kim, who has been guiding and overlooking this particular department for the past five years, greeted you and made you feel comfortable instantly, which made all of your tensed-up muscles relax fairly quickly. She communicated well with you and, surprisingly, even shared some of the same ideals as you did. You were beyond grateful to hear when she mentioned that she has kept up with your works from the London Mail, and it was about time that the team needed someone like you. 

Once both of you had taken the time to break the ice, Ms Kim led you to your desk just outside her office, where countless cubicles filled the entire floor. At first glance, you have estimated that there were about fifty employees who worked in this department. It didn’t take them long to greet you personally before you eventually made your way to your desk in the middle of the floor. 

As you unloaded your bag of materials onto the desk and placed them in an organised manner, your hands digging through your bag finally stopped when you felt a familiar material. Instantly, you pulled it out to check what it was, and you were once again left speechless with what it was. 

A picture of you and Juyeon back during your graduation from high school.

The only plausible reason it was in your workbag was because of your mother. You have never once told her that things ended badly between you both, and you have always shrugged off the fact that you were still keeping in touch with the man himself and that you both were still having a healthy friendship. You just didn’t want her to worry much, especially when she knew how much you both have been through, and she practically treated Juyeon like her own son. 

As all loving mothers would do, she woke up hours ahead of you this morning to prepare you a filling bento box. She wrapped it with traditional cloth and placed it neatly into your work bag. At the same time, she probably put the little picture frame into the bag, hoping it would motivate you during work and decorate your new workplace. 

With just a few seconds of staring at it, you looked down to see an empty trash bin that sat right beneath your work desk, and without thinking much, you immediately placed the picture right into it. 

I’m sorry, mom. But I will not be needing it anymore.

Your first week of work flew by quickly as you easily got used to the working lifestyle. Seoul was your home, and it wasn’t hard to adapt back to the culture. In fact, you were grateful that your new group of co-workers could be on par with the ones back in London; they were all as great and supportive in helping you ease into the new environment. Your new co-workers even encouraged you to head out for a little drink at the local izakaya restaurant after work since it has been a long weekend for everyone, and you surely did enjoy the little company you had before heading home a little after midnight. 

In terms of fitting in as GQ Korea's new reporter, it has been a thrilling ride learning about all of the entertainment biz that has been going on in the country. Since your forte was with celebrities, your head of department had assigned you the same, focusing on the rising K-Pop stars in the industry. 

It has been a while since you kept up with Korean celebrities since you mainly focused on Western artists abroad for a couple of years. But as you kept up with the news and made sure to read the newspaper first thing every morning you came right in, you made sure that you have been kept up to date with all of the latest announcements and events that have been going on in the industry. 

Today was a big day for you as Ms Kim had instructed you to head up to the top floor, where you would first meet up with the CEO for the very first time since joining the company as he would like to brief you through the details in regards to the celebrities that will be coming later in the day.

You thought it was probably some hotshot celeb for the CEO to personally guide you through each step regarding what or how you should deal with them. However, you weren’t too mad since you figured they probably did things differently here in Seoul.

As you finally reached the top floor, you were then escorted by whom you assumed to be the CEO’s personal assistant, who was already expecting your arrival as they kindly let your head department know that she was free to leave. The walk down the hallway towards the CEO’s office seemed a little daunting to you for some reason; perhaps it was also because you were meeting someone who is considered to be one of the famous people in the heart of Seoul—there’s a reason why GQ Korea is always on the top-selling markets. 

As the assistant kindly knocked on the door and got a verbal cue from the other side, she took a step behind to let you move forward as you slowly turned the doorknob to enter the room. 

Immediately, you notice how the entire office is decorated extravagantly, filled with tons of high-end decorations that suit the taste of the CEO himself. The wide, clear windows dominated most of the room, offering a panoramic cityscape view. A curated selection of artwork filled the walls, which added a little personal touch to the working space. 

You didn’t realise that your mouth was wide open as you slowly took in the mesmerising view until you turned towards the desk, where the CEO was sitting on his chair with his back facing you, flipping through multiple documents in his hands. 

As you slowly made your way towards him, your little footsteps made the CEO’s ears perk up, causing the man to stand up and finally turn to face you in person for the first time. 

With that, your entire world seemed to pause for a moment. 

What exactly was going on? There was no way this young man could be the CEO, especially when you were certain that he had left Seoul years ago and sworn that his chances of returning to his homeland would be close to zero. Your laptop in hand was slowly beginning to slip off before you were brought back to reality and quickly caught it before it eventually hit the ground. 

That was when you finally muttered your first words since stepping into the CEO’s office. 

“J-Juyeon…?” 

It was pretty evident that the man himself was just as confused and shocked as you were; he practically stood there motionless, trying his best to make sense of the current situation.

“Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

“I should be the one asking you that,” you replied. 

You were about to go haywire just from this interaction alone. It was hard enough for you to move on from what happened seven years ago, and it proved to be a lot harder than you thought when you came back a few weeks ago to see that all of the things that you’ve tried so hard to forget were now back in the comforts of your bedroom. 

Ever since then, you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t want anything to do with Juyeon anymore, and you have decided to shut your heart regarding anything related to the man himself. 

If only it were easier said than done. 

Juyeon finally took his first step away from his desk as he slowly approached you, extending his hand as if he was craving your touch again. You could tell that he was desperate for a little physical contact, perhaps to prove that you really stood in front of him. 

But you couldn’t, and you weren’t ready for any of that, so you backed off instead, giving him a clear signal that you weren’t on the same page as he was. 

There was this evident sadness in his eyes, and he tried his best to hold back his tears as his eyes began to water. 

“Y/N…I—”

“Miss L/N. You can address me that, Mr. Lee,” you bluntly replied before diverting your attention to the ground. 

It was when Juyeon finally got himself together and straightened his posture before clearing his throat. “Very well, Miss L/N. I’ll quickly brief you on the events happening today, with the group of celebrities arriving in a couple of hours soon. Please, have a seat.”

“I hate him, I really do!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you took the pint of beer in your hands before slamming it down onto the table. Your sister had to restrain you from causing a scene at the bar, trying to settle you down and handing you a glass of water to chug down your system. 

Your sister had just recently came back to Seoul for a little vacation, and you immediately asked that she could keep you accompany down at the local izakaya restaurant that you often visited to let off some steam. 

“Karma is really on your side huh, Y/N,” your sister teased. 

“I-It’s not funny, sissy….” your voice began to slur, indicating that you were starting to get drunk at this point. “Why…of all people, why?! Why did it have to be him? As my boss! In my new workplace!” 

“Look, it can’t be that bad. Who knows, maybe you might get another chance again with him.” 

“That’s not the point, sissy….after what he has done to me? After all that I have done to try my best to move on from the past? This should not be happening to me at all!” Your voice broke as you began tearing up, causing your sister to pull you close into her embrace, slowly caressing your back to help soothe you a little. 

Your sister was well aware of your history with Juyeon, especially when you’ve spent weeks, which eventually that turned into months of crying out to her over the phone since she was already studying abroad then, she knew how much the whole situation wrecked you badly, to the point that it has taken you months to start going out and meeting people outside of university eventually. 

She was there when you were both younger, seeing how you developed a crush on him later and knowing you weren’t just childhood friends and had something way more than that. It was a shame that Juyeon left without telling you, and she would’ve gone to the airport to confront him about it if only she had been back in Seoul then. But deep down, she knew Juyeon as much as you did and knew that suddenly, something probably came up for him to leave the country like that. 

As a matter of fact, your sister had always wished and rooted for you both to become a couple eventually; she had always been a firm believer of childhood friends to lovers anyway, especially when that was how she ended up with her current fiancé. Now that you both have reunited in the most unexpected way, she believes her theory about you both eventually having a second chance was stronger than ever before. 

With that, she lifted her eyebrows as if she had just come up with a brilliant idea. “Say, little sis. What exactly are you up to at work tomorrow?” 

You sniffled. “Umm…I guess I have a meeting with Juyeon to discuss the upcoming fashion show that is due to be set in a couple of months. Why do you ask?” 

Your sister gave you a little smirk in return before cradling you like a baby again. “Oh, it was nothing. I’m sure you’ll have a fruitful discussion tomorrow.”

You dreaded coming to work today. The very first reason is that you woke up with a really bad hangover from last night, and you practically don’t remember much that has happened besides chugging down pints of beer from your system. It has been a while since you’ve drank this much, and most importantly, because you were upset over something. Otherwise, you were pretty much sober most of the time and always being the one to drag your co-workers home because they were far worse than you were. 

And, of course, it was also because you hated the idea that you must come face-to-face with your so-called ex-childhood best friend again—this time, in an actual meeting. Well, in some ways, you were glad that it was only a meeting for a potentially massive event that the company had been known to host for years and that Juyeon would probably be able to distinguish between personal and work-life issues. 

But still, you just weren’t ready to face him again, especially with the huge shock you’d received the day before. It was already hard enough for you to stay focused when Juyeon briefed you through your job scope and the meeting you would have for the day, trying your best not to let the tears drip down nor let the anger boil up. 

However, you had no choice since you must also stay professional at your work. You just got back to Korea, and there was no way you would chicken out and move everything back to the UK again. Well, potentially, you could, but it wouldn’t be an ethical move to make. 

So here you are, hugging your documents and laptop towards your chest, standing outside the meeting room. You had to take a few deep breaths before you could muster up the courage to turn the doorknob and enter the room. 

Once you did, you noticed how the entire room was filled up, with most of your co-workers in their designated seats, sorting through the documents they would use for the meeting. You immediately diverted your attention towards the front where Juyeon was seated, and you hated how you had actually spent a good minute admiring his features. 

He wore a simple beige coat over a white tee, paired with a pair of black slim pants with leather shoes. His black hair was styled all the way back, leaving a little strand of hair down on his forehead. He was busy flipping through his documents while setting up his laptop to project the PowerPoint slides for everyone to see. 

You just hated how extremely good-looking he was right now and that there was a high chance that you wouldn’t concentrate on your work throughout the next hour. 

And how you would actually want to run into his embrace and give him a little peck on the lips—

Wait, what? 

As Juyeon finally lifted his head from the monitor and looked at everyone else in the room, it was a sign that the meeting was about to commence, and you quickly took the still available seat, the front seat. 

Throughout the presentation, you tried your best to take in everything that Juyeon- well, your CEO, was trying to convey to his employees. It turns out that this upcoming fashion show would be one of the most crucial ones the company has ever done for years, especially now that all the big brands are willing to collaborate with GQ Korea and put out the best fashion show in the country. 

It was quite a breathtaking look to see how Juyeon was passionate about his job, talking and explaining each detail to his employees carefully while making it enjoyable for everyone to learn or be part of. With that, you have noticed how every single employee in the room was constantly taking down details as quickly as lightning, making sure not to miss out on any small detail. There were moments when some would raise their hands to ask further questions, and Juyeon was more than happy to answer them, making the whole meeting seem less stressful but instead quite engaging in return. 

There were times when you found yourself staring at him more than you should’ve, and every time he diverted his attention towards you, you would quickly duck your head down to look back at your laptop as if you were busy typing away on your notes. 

Time seemed to have passed quickly as Juyeon finally wrapped up the meeting and let everyone off. In fact, the meeting ended right at the dot, and it was just past noon, meaning it was lunchtime for all employees. Everyone was quick to dash through the door, their stomach grumbling after using up all of the energy for the meeting. For you, you decided to pack up your belongings at your own pace, knowing that you would be spending your lunch back at your cubicle with the little bento box your mother had packed for you this morning. 

As you are about to head straight for the door, the familiar voice stops you in your tracks, making you turn your head back to face the man himself. 

“Miss L/N, I would like to have a word with you.” 

Oh, god. It’s here. 

Mentally, you were cursing out all the vulgar words you knew at the back of your mind as you slowly approached your CEO, trying your best not to let out the croak in your voice. 

“Y-Yes, may I help you, Mr Lee?” 

“There is a place that I have to pay a short visit, and I would like you to keep me company.”

Whenever an employer or the CEO would address their employees to keep them company as they pay a visit to a certain location, it usually meant that it was to meet up with a client or to survey certain products or places that could significantly be crucial for the company’s success. 

But here you were, sitting in one of the fancy cafes that wasn’t far from the office, having lunch with your CEO, who was sitting in front of you. 

Juyeon said nothing along the way as he brought you to the cafe, insisting that you sit down and order from the menu with no questions asked. As awkward as it was, you were about to deny his request before he looked straight down towards the menu, not even glancing at you. 

You figured this was probably part of the job, and there was no way you would deny your CEO’s request right here and then, especially when it was working hours and everything was strictly business. 

Once both of you have made your orders to the waitress that just passed by a minute ago, you diverted your attention towards the tablecloth, not wanting to look straight at Juyeon. However, his deep voice caught your attention, and you lifted your head back up after hearing the words you had wanted to say for the past seven years. 

“I think it’s about time I told you the truth, Y/N.” 

Oh, he called you by your name. 

As you focus your attention right on him, you can see the sadness in his eyes once more, just like how it was back when you first encountered him in his office the day before. 

“Umm…with due respect Mr Lee—”

“Juyeon is fine. We’re outside of work, Y/N. I would appreciate it if you could talk to me like we used to, and I will do the same,” he responded, slowly resting his arms on the tablecloth as if he were leaning slightly closer to you. 

With that you took a significantly big gulp, knowing that the day you longed for was finally here. You were about to get the answers you desperately needed to know, but at the same time, you weren’t so sure if you wanted to know the truth right now, especially with all of the things that you have gone through trying your best to take him out of your life completely. 

“Will you please give me a chance to listen to what I have to say?” He pleaded, looking at you with a desperate look in his eyes. 

Your gut and mind were trying to tell you that you have done your best to completely eliminate him in your life for the past seven years. Would you give up easily and open your enclosed heart just like that? After all of the hard work that you have done? 

Say no, Y/N. You have gotten over the guy. It’s all over between you two—

“Yeah. Go on.” 

Goddammit, Y/N. 

Immediately, his eyes lit up upon your words, and his shoulders slumped down a little, indicating that he has relaxed a bit. 

“Oh, thank god, Y/N. I guess you were still the same old Y/N that I remembered—”

“You said we’re not employers and employees now, so I’d say cut to the chase with what you have to say while you can, Juyeon,” you bluntly replied as you crossed your arms around you. 

In return, Juyeon gave you a little weak smile and a sigh before he eventually diverted his full attention to you. 

“Remember when we got separated back in high school? During our graduation day, you—”

“You left me behind, Juyeon.” 

“I didn’t have a choice back then, Y/N. But now I’m here to tell you everything. You have no idea how our stomach dropped when my father came home and told us that his company was about to go bankrupt, and we were on the verge of losing everything.” 

So that was what happened.

“And how it was also the day my mother found out that she had cancer and her chances of recovery were lower than expected.” 

“J-Juyeon…w-why didn’t you tell me all of this?” 

“I wanted to. I really wanted to so badly, Y/N. Because you’re my best friend, and you deserve to know everything. But I just didn’t know how to, and I was afraid of what might happen, and I don’t want to put the pressure on you.” 

“W-Where are they now, then?” 

Juyeon had to take in a big breath before choosing his following words wisely, knowing it must’ve been hard to even talk about it publicly. “Mom became bedridden, and she’s still receiving treatment in one of the hospitals back in the States. Dad is currently running a small little shop near the hospital along with my little brother.” 

“Then, why did you come back here?” 

“I came back because starting a proper company there was tough. I figured there might be a slight chance things could work out here in Seoul. With the remaining funds we had, I eventually begged my dad to give his final trust in me as I found a way to make things work out. Luckily, we had some acquaintances back here, and they helped me get into one of the prestigious universities and eventually landed me a job here at GQ Korea. I started as a normal employee before I eventually became their CEO a year prior.” 

It was then you noticed a single teardrop on the verge of dripping down his face from the corners of his eyes. Naturally and unbeknownst to you, your hand reached for the tissues placed neatly on the table, and you leaned in to wipe away that single teardrop. 

Only then did you both realise what you were doing, and that was when your eyes widened, and you were about to prop down back to your seat.

That was until Juyeon grabbed your wrist, not wanting to let you go. 

“This teardrop is nothing, Y/N. I’m so sorry you have to see this side of me. It’s not very cool, I guess,” he chuckled, trying his best to lighten up the mood a bit. 

As soon as he says those words, your other free hand eventually finds itself on Juyeon’s shoulders, causing the male’s eyes to widen this time before you finally speak out the words that you have always wanted to tell straight to his face all those years ago. 

“Juyeon, you need to start learning to put yourself before others. And I really mean it.” 

“Y/N, I—”

“No buts. Even after all these years, you’re still the same as before, always prioritising others before your own. As much as you are the most kind-hearted soul I’ve ever seen, you need to start loving and giving yourself some credit,” you replied, adding a little pressure onto your grip on his shoulders. 

With that, none of you said a word for a good couple of seconds, and you both just spent the entire time staring into each other's eyes as if you were conveying your messages non-verbally. That was until Juyeon finally decided to break the tension off by smiling at you, a genuine one you had consistently grown to love back then. 

“So, am I back in your good graces now, princess?” 

You were finally brought back to your senses, and you quickly removed both hands from him and sat down swiftly back on your chair, ducking your head down while giving a slight pout. 

Juyeon missed this sight of you and was absolutely admiring the whole situation that unfolded before him. Just then, both of your meals arrived, and the same waitress from before gently placed each of your respective ones in front of you. Juyeon then gently placed the cutlery in front of you. 

“Dig in,” he mentioned before whipping out the napkin and placing it right on his lap, before going in with his cutlery to cut through his steak. 

In return, you swiftly picked up yours and roughly cut through your freshly cooked breaded cod fish. 

“No one calls a normal friend princess, Lee freaking Juyeon,” you mumbled.

Just when you thought that would be the only time you would actually spend some time alone with Juyeon, it turns out the male had perceived that you both were back just the way you were when you were kids. 

Since that day, Juyeon would actually make his way out to invite you often to join lunch with him at the same cafe, usually ordering a different dish from the wide selection of food on the menu. What Juyeon loved the most about the place was the ambience and good coffee, and he would always be seen ordering a big jumbo-sized cup of iced latte to bring back to his office to help get through the rest of the day. 

You, on the other hand, were often stuck with more or less the same few dishes that you’ve tried, and you, too, would order your usual iced americano back to the office once you both were done with the meal. 

At first, you have always tried your best to avoid having contact with him; that first lunch date was just a typical day, as you would try to convince yourself. But whenever Juyeon gets a little break out from the office, he would either send you a personal email or sometimes ask his personal assistant to come down to your department to inform you to wait for the man down at the lobby at noon. 

You obviously could do your very best to come up with excuses to let him know that you’re busy with something or you already have plans to eat with your co-workers, but it seemed that the heart does what it wants, and it does not align with the signals that your brain is trying to tell you; which is to avoid and cut off this whole friendship for good. 

So you were back to being the giddy seventeen-year-old little girl who often felt excited whenever you spent time with your childhood friend. Hence, every time you were taking the very last escalator down to the lobby, you would often use that little time to admire the way Juyeon would always lean against one of the pillars while swiping through his phone with one hand and keeping the other one inside the pocket of his coat. 

But you did not want to admit it just yet, so you would constantly remind yourself that he’s only back for a while; it wouldn’t be so easy to open up your ice-cold heart again. 

That was until today. 

Just a few days prior, Juyeon had given you a ticket to visit this huge Christmas market in the town centre. At first, you stared at the paper blankly, thinking it was all a joke and he couldn’t have gone with you. But the male made it clear that he invited you to come along, which would be the two of you together. 

Your heart was bouncing so fast that you were afraid it would eventually pop out of your chest as you slowly approached where you both were supposed to meet. You figured it best that you arrived twenty minutes earlier to compose yourself and try to understand your situation. 

As you paced back and forth for god knows how long, you finally heard your name being called out from the far distance, and you perked your head up to see that Juyeon was waving his hands and running towards you like he used to back when he was a kid. 

Once he finally stopped right in front of you, he began panting heavily to the point you were genuinely worried if this man was actually alright. 

“Woah, what the hell happened to you? You seemed like you were escaping from a monster or something,” you joked. 

“N-No…I went to get this for you…” Juyeon then hands you a brown paper bag, and you accept it while being all confused. 

“Open it, Y/N. Have a look at what’s inside,” he insisted before resting both hands on his hips. 

While giving Juyeon a weird look, you finally peeped into the bag and extended your arm into the brown bag before you finally felt something soft against your palms and eventually pulled whatever it was out. 

Your eyes widened when you saw what it was. 

“J-Juyeon…this…”

“Remember way back in high school; we promised each other that we would want to visit the Christmas markets, and how badly did you want this soft alpaca plushie that was way too expensive for neither of us to get our hands on? Yeah, I actually got it before the store closed like minutes ago.” 

He remembered. 

You have always been vocal about wanting this plushie for years, and there was no way your parents were buying it for you, claiming that it was way too expensive (which it was since it was part of a collaboration with one of the high-end fashion companies) and that you wouldn’t have a proper use for it. Back then, Juyeon couldn’t do anything but reassure you that one day, your wish would definitely come true while always giving you pinky promises. 

And now, you were finally receiving your biggest Christmas wishlist item as an adult, and you couldn’t be much happier. 

You laughed. “Juyeon, you do realise that I’m not a child anymore, right?” 

“Who says plushies are only meant for young children? Why can’t adults have their collection? I’ll tell you I have a Build-A-Bear in my bedroom.” 

“You must be joking.” 

“Mark my words, Y/N.” 

Eventually, you both started laughing out loud before you hugged the plushie close to you, activating the heating function in the toy to keep yourself warm; that was the main purpose that made you want to purchase this product long ago. 

“Thank you, Juyeon.” 

“Well, instead of thanking me, why don’t you keep me company for the night as we explore this Christmas market together?” 

You smiled. “With pleasure.”

“Oh, Juyeon~ Have I ever told you how much I’ve admired your good looks? I’d like to think that your family genes are something else.”

After an hour or two of walking through the entire Christmas market and having too much fun going to each stall and trying out the different activities and food, you eventually stumbled upon one located towards the furthest end and sold various eggnog drinks. You have never tried this particular alcoholic beverage before; you were mostly used to the beers that you often get back in the pubs in London. However, Juyeon insisted that you give it a go especially for the Christmas season, and he eventually bought both of you a mug. 

The initial taste seemed a bit off to you, but once the alcohol started kicking in, you eventually began to chug the whole liquid down as if it were nobody’s business. After some time, one mug of eggnog began turning into two, and then three, and finally, you were pretty sure that you were on your fifth mug by now. 

That was when Juyeon realised that he should’ve stopped you by your second or third mug because now you were barely walking properly without his aid, and your speech began to slur as he linked your arms over his shoulders, trying his best to support you while walking you back home. 

You both had to take the subway trains to head back to your apartment and during the entire time, you were clingy with your childhood friend, often wrapping your arms around him and giving him a tight squeeze while mumbling incoherent words. You caught the attention of all passengers and passersby, but Juyeon could only smile at how you looked right now. 

He had never seen you drunk before, and this was a whole new experience for him. But he wasn’t too mad that you reminded him so much of your younger self; it was as if he was witnessing the seven-year-old you again in the present day. 

After walking from the subway and, eventually, towards your front door to your apartment, Juyeon was about to take you up towards the elevator until you stopped him in his tracks.

“No Juyeon~ why are you leaving me so early? We still have so much more to see in the market!” 

He smiled. “Y/N, I think it’s time for you to head home to get some rest.” 

“But I don’t wanna~” 

With that, Juyeon grabbed hold of both your shoulders as he bent down to be on the same eye level as you, trying his best to talk to you in your drunken stage. 

“Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow, hmm? We’ve had loads of fun today, and besides, your mom and sister would be worried sick about you at this late hour.” 

Immediately, you lifted your pinky at him, which caused the male to stare at you blankly. “Pinky promise that I get to see you tomorrow, Juyeon-ie?” 

Oh, how insanely adorable you were to Juyeon right now. 

He chuckled before linking his pinky with yours, shaking it left and right slightly as if to seal the agreement. “I promise, we’ll see each other in the office first thing tomorrow morning.”

With the final pinky shake, Juyeon guided you towards the elevator and pressed the button. As you both waited for the elevator to come down to the ground floor, you suddenly broke off the silence, and Juyeon had to blink twice to know he wasn’t hearing things wrong. 

“I’ve always liked you Juyeon…even after all these years…I never stopped loving you…” you sobbed. 

Your nose was now sniffling, and you closed your eyes to let the tears drip down, not caring what Juyeon would think about all this. You were done trying to hold it back for so long, and you needed to let the burden that you’ve held onto for years finally let loose, and well, you were drunk at this point, so you couldn’t really control the words that slipped out from your mouth. 

“Why did you leave me just like that…did you know how much pain it has caused…and how hard I’ve tried to forget every single thing about you? I even threw away all of the pictures and toys we’d had together because the flashbacks of memories would often play in my mind upon seeing them,” you were now crying, and you began to raise your voice a little. 

“Why, Juyeon, WHY!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, and immediately you burst out crying, plopping straight down onto the concrete floor. You hated how the alcohol wasn’t making you think straight and that you were feeling a roller coaster of emotions right now. 

Just let it out, Y/N. You’ve suffered long enough—

Immediately, a warm pair of arms wrapped around you, and a hand gently pushed your head down to let you rest on the crook of their neck. You finally glanced up to see that it was Juyeon, holding you tight and resting his chin on the top of your head. 

As much as you want to push yourself away from him, you can’t. You couldn’t explain why, and you have even made a pact to yourself that you wouldn’t want anything associated with him anymore. 

But why did the saying the heart wants what it wants have to be so accurate? 

You hated it, hated how you have always let your emotions take full control over your mind, not making you think straight, and often going against your plans. In fact, your heart ached so badly, and it was the same feeling that you felt seven years ago, right when Juyeon left you alone as he hopped onto his vehicle. 

The only thing you could do right now was to let the stream of tears pour down and cry out to your heart’s content. You felt weak, and you could do nothing to push him away. 

Juyeon couldn’t blame you, though, because how could he? Especially when he was the one who said nothing all those years ago. Now, he was seeing with his own eyes how much pain and trouble it has cost you, turning you into a vulnerable little petite girl who was crying her heart out in his arms. 

With that, he moved his lips down to plant a little kiss on your head and eventually closed his eyes as your cries filled up his eyedrums. 

“I’ll make it work, Y/N. I promise you that I’ll make things work this time.”

“Oh, good fucking hell.” 

You were sitting on your work desk, bringing your hands to cover up your face. It was an absolute nightmare to hear from your sister about what happened the night before—how you got drunk and caused a little scene in public, which made everyone turn their attention towards you, how Juyeon was the one who brought you all the way back home, how you had a breakdown in front of him to the point you eventually fell asleep after crying your eyes out to the point he had to physically gave you a piggyback up to your front door and assisted your sister to plop you down on your bed. 

If there was a nearby cliff near your workplace, you would do anything to ditch work and actually head straight up there to jump off from the embarrassment. 

You were already not having a good time reuniting with Juyeon, let alone trying to sort your emotions out while seeing him at work every day and that he was your boss. But to confess your deepest thoughts while being vulnerable and drunk in front of him? That was not written anywhere in your books. 

As you were spending your entire lunch break groaning over what happened last night, you immediately received a call from your desk telephone, and you quickly composed yourself before picking the phone up. 

“Y-Yes, hello? This is L/N from the editorial department; how may I assist you for the day?”

“Good afternoon, Miss L/N. Please report to the CEO’s office immediately whenever you can.” 

Oh, Jesus take the wheel. 

The entire walk up to the CEO’s office was nerve-wracking; it was as if you were being sent to detention at the principal’s office because you messed up really badly. So many thoughts ran through your mind, thinking about how to apologise to Juyeon for the scene you had caused the day prior.

Once you walked into his office, you tried your best to devise the best phrase to start the conversation, but it seemed that Juyeon beat you to it, immediately handing you a red ginseng hangover drink. 

You reluctantly accepted it while mumbling a soft ‘thank you’ before he insisted that you drink it immediately before him. Once you were done, he took the bottle away and tossed it straight into the bin, directly briefing you about the upcoming fashion show, now only a month away. 

Now that it was back to business and you were no longer childhood friends, you tried your best to keep your composure as you listened to all of the details he was going through one by one with you. 

Eventually, he decided to bring you along to meet up with one of the CEOs of the high-end brands on a trip to Seoul to discuss the plan in person further. Apparently, you have met with the CEO of Fendi, and it’s one of the brands that have been associated with GQ Korea for decades now. Somehow, Juyeon has gotten pretty close with the famous man himself over the years.

All of you met up in the famous Four Seasons Hotel for a pretty luxurious high-tea session while discussing the whole fashion show. It was mostly just Juyeon conversing with the CEO himself; you were mainly there to take down all the essential notes that both parties spoke.

Usually, it would have been his personal assistant job, but he insisted that you come along this time, saying it was part of your training. To be completely honest, you weren’t sure if Juyeon was the one mixing up between work and personal life issues at this point. All you wanted to do was to pray that this meeting gets over and done with quickly so that you could head back towards the comforts of your cubicle in the office and not face Juyeon for a while.

After an hour or so, it seemed as if the meeting was wrapped, and both parties finally parted ways for now, causing you to head straight back to Juyeon’s vehicle. Many people would think most CEOs would have their chauffeur, but Juyeon insisted that he always preferred to drive alone. 

He was still the chatterbox that you have always remembered back in the day, how we would often come up with any possible topic that would keep you entertained; you both could talk for days back then only if both of your families didn’t stop you from heading back home for meal time. 

There was only one problem this time: you were still troubled by what had happened the day before, and it was hard enough to even join Juyeon for this meeting with the CEO of Fendi in the first place. Now that both of you were alone in the car, things were far more awkward than they already were. Juyeon never touched on the topic from last night, but still, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in the face. 

Just when you thought Juyeon was about to take the left turn to head back towards the office, he took the other lane instead and drove towards the opposite direction.

“Juyeon, the office is the other way—”

“Let’s go somewhere, Y/N. Treat this as a little gift of stepping out of office hours for a bit. You’ll still get paid, though; don’t worry. I’ll make sure to inform your head department about your absence.” 

What on earth is going through your mind, Juyeon?

It has been a few minutes since you have physically pressed yourself against the tank, slowly admiring various species swimming about minding their own business. 

Apparently, you both have arrived at the COEX Aquarium, known for homing a large variety of rare species of aquatic animals and typically the best place for school trips, holidays, and even as a date.

Wait, scratch that last one—

“Didn’t you always say how coming here has been on your bucket list for the longest time?” Juyeon questioned you as he slowly walked up towards where you were from behind, slipping both of his hands into his cloak as he, too, began admiring the beauty in front of him. 

That was when you finally diverted your attention to his face for the first time since hopping into his car this morning to head to the hotel. You were upset at yourself with how the feelings were the same as before: his pretty sculpted facial features, how good-looking he actually was, and how he could do the bare minimum, yet you would still swoon over the man himself. 

With all that has happened lately, something told you this was more than friend behaviour. Sure, Juyeon might be trying his best to patch up this whole relationship you once had, taking you to places and recreating new memories with one another, but you weren’t sure if Juyeon felt the same way as you did. 

That deep feeling within the pit of your stomach made you feel uncomfortable, and it was about time you finally confronted him about the one question that had pondered at the back of your mind for the longest time. 

If both of you wanted to continue whatever was happening between you, you needed to get the specific answer first. 

And it has to be now. 

“Juyeon, can I ask you something?” 

He hummed. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

With that, you turned your entire body facing him and took a deep breath to figure out the right words to convey your feelings for the man himself. “I meant what I said the night before.” 

That alone was enough to get his full attention, as he was now slowly turning himself fully towards you as if he was staring straight into your soul. You wanted to chicken out so badly and tell him it was nothing, and you both could just continue with the silence. But you have already come so far, and you know that this will only continue to haunt you for as long as you live if you aren’t going to address it now. 

So you mustered up every bit of courage left within you, and opened your mouth again. 

“I never stopped loving you, Juyeon. Even though we have lost contact for so many years, I never once stop thinking about you every single day. As much as I’ve tried so hard to forget about you, hell, I threw everything that reminded me of you into the dumpster or boxes and kept them deep somewhere where I wouldn’t even think about searching for it ever again, but to no avail.” 

Your body began to tremble as you tried to calm yourself down by playing with your fingers. “I couldn’t, Juyeon. Every time I thought I have succeeded in getting rid of you from my life for good, the thought of you just somehow finds its way to creep back up in my mind.” 

“I have no idea if karma sent me back here to Seoul, especially when my career was doing well in London. Imagine coming back and discovering that my new employer is someone I’ve tried so hard to forget about? The mixed emotions I felt then were insufferable.” 

As you began to speak more, tears started welling up in your eyes, causing your heartbeat to rise rapidly. But you decided to press on and choke back on your tears. 

“With all that you have done for me for the past weeks and months, I truly have no idea what on earth you are trying to prove to me, Lee Juyeon. Are you trying to fix our broken friendship? Or is it something more? What exactly are you even planning to do, Juyeon?” 

Finally, you took a few steps closer until you were inches away from him. 

“Be honest with me now, Juyeon. What exactly am I to you?” 

There was this tense moment between you two, and neither of you said a word to one another. You were looking straight at your childhood friend with red, puffy eyes, and his eyes were widened, looking at you and trying his best to take in everything you’d said. 

Something tells you that it was best not to hear about Juyeon’s opinions at all for the fear of rejection once more. If you had the power to dissect his mind to determine his thoughts and feelings about all of this, you would. Yet, you were still afraid of what might happen next. 

As you wait for his response, you slowly examine how his shoulders began to slump, and eventually he tries his best to talk some sense into you. 

“Y/N, I—”

“Ah! It’s Juyeon-ie!” 

The both of you immediately darted your head towards where the voice was coming from, and that was when you noticed a female running towards Juyeon while waving her hands, and a rather old man accompanied her. 

Who could it be? 

“Saeran? And Uncle Lee? What are you two doing here?” Juyeon questioned as the two individuals made their way towards you. It was also then they both noticed your presence and the soft-spoken young lady was the one who broke the ice. 

“You must be?” 

“O-Oh, I umm—”

“She’s Y/N; she used to be my neighbour back in the days when I was still living in Seoul.” 

Just a neighbour, huh? 

“Ah, Y/N!” The young female extended her hand for a little handshake, in which you awkwardly return the favour. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person finally! Juyeon has spoken a lot about you.” 

Before you could even give a reply, it seemed that the older man whom you now know was his uncle, or rather, perceived that he was the one who managed to help Juyeon get a new start in life back here in Seoul, finally spoke and diverted Juyeon’s attention back to what they were here for in the first place. 

“We had made a little appointment this afternoon, don’t you remember, Juyeon?”

“Oh, yes! I’m so sorry. It must’ve completely slipped my mind since I have been pretty caught up with work lately,” Juyeon apologised while slightly bowing towards his uncle. 

“Not at all, Juyeon. I’m sure you must’ve been pretty busy with-” his uncle then diverts his attention towards you. “-a lot of things.” 

You definitely felt way too uncomfortable at the moment, and you needed to get out of the aquarium right this second if you did not wish to be suffocated by all of the tension in the air. 

Immediately, you gently removed your hands from the young female and quickly made a ninety-degree bow towards all of them.

“My humble apologies, it seems that I have disrupted an important meeting. I shall take my leave now.” 

As soon as you turned your heel towards the other direction, you suddenly felt a pair of hands grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Y/N! Wait, I’ll drive you back—”

“No, it’s fine,” you tried your best to smile at him. “I’ll just take the train located right outside the aquarium. Have a good day.” 

You instantly slip your hands off his grip and dash straight towards the front door, trying your best not to look back and ignore the tears dripping down your face as you walk down the steps towards the subway.

It was now week two of cutting off all contact with Juyeon. It hadn’t been easy for you both at work and personally. In fact, you haven’t been doing great at all. It was as if you had turned into a living zombie, often feeling rather emotionless and drowning yourself in paperwork and avoiding contact with another except for your head of department. 

Since Juyeon was still your employer and CEO, he has definitely tried all means of contacting you, asking to see if you were doing okay or trying to get you up to his office to talk about the fashion show, or rather, to talk things out. But every single time, you would find ways to decline his request as best as possible while respecting him as your boss first and foremost. 

After a week of declining his invitations, his messages and calls eventually stopped coming a week ago; it was as if he had completely vanished for a little while. From what you have heard, it seemed that he had some urgent matters that he had to deal with, causing him to leave the office into the hands of his assistant for now.

It was finally a little breather for you since you didn’t have to put on this facade for the time being, letting you let loose for a bit. Going through sleepless nights throughout the past couple of weeks definitely has taken a toll on your mental well-being. 

You told yourself you needed to hold it all in for another week. Once this whole fashion show is done, you will get your well-deserved vacation off work for one week. 

It’ll be alright. Things will definitely work out in one way or another, Y/N.

It was finally the day for the long-awaited fashion show hosted by GQ Korea and the collaboration among famous brands around the globe. A swarm of people marched into the rented convention hall, filling the entire space within minutes.

You and your co-workers were busy getting everything organised and ensuring everything was in place. Since you were in the editorial department, you have been going about talking to all of the big figureheads from each respective brand, mostly just breaking the ice as well as interviewing them so that you have your necessary notes to draft out the proposal for the upcoming magazine. 

Time passed quickly and it was time for the show to begin. As you sat down on one of the chairs, you made your way towards the far end corners of the hall, getting ready your notepad and trusty blue ballpoint pen. 

As the light began to dim, Juyeon eventually made his way up on stage with a microphone, giving the guests a warm welcome and a little opening speech before the models began their runway walk. Seeing the man himself again was a bittersweet moment for you. As much as you wanted nothing more associated with him, your eyes just couldn’t seem to turn away from him.

It did not help that he was dressed up in a black tuxedo, with his hair styled up with his usual one strand on his forehead. He looked strikingly handsome, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to woo almost everyone in the audience tonight. The way he presented himself was truly magnificent, and you could see why he was able to rise to the ranks of being a CEO at such a young age. 

Tears began welling up in your eyes again, but you tried your very best to hold them back and mentally cursed at yourself, thinking that this was all professional work now and that there was no room for any personal matters for the night. 

Once he made his desired speech, he eventually came down from the stage and sat at one of the front row seats, and that was where you could clearly see that the very same girl from the aquarium sat right next to him, along with his uncle and personal assistant. It shouldn’t bother you since they are practically family to him. It was none of your business, so why couldn’t you take your eyes off them?

Or rather, with him and the young lady who was clearly having fun whispering into each other’s ears. 

It has nothing to do with me. 

You constantly reminded yourself that whenever you tried to spare a glance at them, all while you were taking down notes from the show. It was definitely a challenge trying to stay focused, and there were a couple of times when you needed to close your eyes for a bit and take a few deep breaths to proceed with your work. 

The show finished smoothly, and the audience responded with a standing ovation. You definitely felt a sense of accomplishment from that, too, given that all of your hard work over the past months had finally paid off. 

The event wouldn’t have been complete without an after-party, so here you were in the hall next door—with all of the guests, models, and even staff alike having loads of fun chatting about with a glass of champagne in hand. Eventually, the DJ that was hired began to blast out a wide selection of music, indicating that whoever felt comfortable hitting up the dance floor was able to do so. 

You smiled as you saw a couple of your close co-workers pull up some moves on the dance floor; it reminded you of loads of your time back in the UK—going to the local pubs and just having the time of your life drinking and partying with your friends. 

Just as you were lost in thought, you suddenly felt a little tap on your shoulder, and you turned around to see that Juyeon’s assistant insisted that someone wanted to see you in person. 

You didn’t think much of it since you already had a little bit of alcohol in your system, so when you finally realised who was the one who wanted to see you, panic began to rush through your veins, and you tried your best to make sense of the situation. 

“Mr Lee? Is something the matter?”

You did not need to see the older male again, especially when he gave you a not-so-good first impression back at the aquarium. However, you had no reason to devise an excuse to leave; he was much superior to you anyway. 

“Why, good evening, Miss L/N. I hope you are enjoying the party so far, and congratulations on the job well done. I must say Juyeon always excels in his work, no matter what obstacles he encounters along the way.” 

The only thing you could do was flash a little smile back at him, as much as it made you uncomfortable. In the back of your mind, you have dozens of questions running through your mind, thinking about in what manner his uncle has any business with you. 

Eventually, he began speaking as if he was chanting through a book, giving you a whole load of information that was a little bit too much to take in at the moment. 

“It seems that Seoul life has been too tedious for you, don’t you think? Have you ever wondered about transferring back to London? Perhaps it would be a much better place for you to reside in.” 

“Umm, with all due respect, sir, how did you know about my background—”

“Oh, I have always kept an eye on you; you were Juyeon’s childhood friend, after all.” 

Keyword. “Were” 

“With that being said, I have read a couple of your articles before from the London Mail, and I must say, they are actually quite extraordinary.” 

“W-Why, t-thank you, Mr Lee. I really do appreciate them—”

“Speaking of transferring, the CEO for Fendi has actually taken quite a liking to you and your work. Even throughout the whole fashion show back there, he has been talking on and on about you, saying how you would prove to be a fruitful addition to his company.”

Just like that, Mr Lee began to step forward to hand you a little sticky note, which clearly had a number written on it. 

“If you ever change your mind, give me a call. Besides, I’m sure you already know the answer deep within your heart. I will be waiting,” Mr Lee responded with a smug before entering back into the hall. 

You stared back down at the note and eventually began thinking about what his uncle said prior. Suddenly, you started feeling conflicted, thinking this was the right place to belong. But it could also be his way of trying to brainwash you; you’re pretty sure you felt like a menace in his eyes. 

You decided you needed some fresh air to clear your thoughts for a bit, so you headed out towards the balcony right up the stairs. You figured that an open-air rooftop seemed perfect for some alone time. 

If only you were the only one who was planning to use the same exact spot that is.

Right when you reached the door that was ajar on the rooftop, you immediately recognised the two people standing before you, the female leaning in to give your childhood friend a peck on the lips.

You stand there motionless, and immediately, your blood starts to boil, something you haven’t felt in a while. The glass of champagne then drops towards the ground, and the shattered noises make the two turn their attention towards you. 

It all felt like a sudden pause like time had stopped for a few moments. The both of you were staring deep into each other’s eyes, not knowing what to do or how to respond. But then, Juyeon eventually spoke to break the silence. 

Before you could ever hear what he had to say, you were already dashing down the stairs, not caring that you had missed a couple of steps and that there were a few instances where you felt like you were about to trip and fall straight down back where you came from. 

Not even wanting to let your co-workers know about anything, you quickly dashed through the front gates, running through the now gloomy skies that were bound to have a heavy downpour within a few minutes. 

You should’ve remembered that Juyeon was the basketball team leader back in high school for a reason; no matter how fast you ran through the streets, he eventually caught you and yanked you back towards him, causing you to press up against his chest. 

“Let me go! Let me go—”

“Y/N! Please! Let us just talk things out.” 

You used up all of your strength and pushed him away as hard as you could before you began raising your voice back at him. “Talk? Don’t be ridiculous. You have done more than enough, and I have seen enough.” 

“Y/N, no. You don’t understand—”

“What else do I have to understand!?!? You have done more than enough to shatter me over and over again, Juyeon! And to think I was dumb enough actually to think we could work things out again!” You screamed. 

“Y/N…please…just calm down and listen to what I have to say…” Juyeon was now practically begging you, begging you just to stop. 

“You clearly don’t understand the pain that I’ve gone through, Juyeon. You weren’t there to witness or experience it anyway! Why did we even become friends in the first place, huh!?!?” 

God, cat’s out of the bag. 

That last sentence was definitely not meant to be said at all; it was one of your deepest, darkest thoughts that you have sworn that nobody should ever find out about, especially when it is directed towards the person who stood before you.

“I hate you, Juyeon…I really do…for all of the pain that you have caused me…” you were now sobbing like a child, which pained Juyeon so much seeing how you were now. 

With that, a loud thunder resonated throughout the city, and a heavy downpour began pouring down from the skies. The both of you were now soaked, and you mustered up the courage to say your final words to him as the tears began mixing with the rain. 

“Please…I beg of you…just stop looking for me…or even talk to me at all…just leave me alone…that’s the last thing I will ask of you…” 

“I don’t want anything to do with you no more.” 

You slowly began backing away, and when you reached a good amount of distance, you turned your heel and began running away into the shadows, not sparing a final glance at your childhood friend who stood at the same spot under the pouring rain. 

This is my final goodbye, Juyeon.

If you thought the whole week of you being a walking zombie in the office was terrible enough, clearly, nobody was prepared for the current state that you were in. You locked yourself up in your room and refused to see anybody, even your mother and sister. 

You would constantly lay in bed, tossing and turning, even though it was hard to fall asleep. Since you avoided contact with your family members, there was nothing much they could do but place a tray filled with your meals and dishes in front of your door, waiting for you to eventually open up during times when you actually felt hungry and took them into your room to savour them all on your own. 

You didn’t need anyone or anything now; you craved alone time and peace. 

As you curl up in bed, sometimes even at the corners of your room, your eyes would often dart towards the sticky note handed to you by his uncle. So many times you have thought about it: what if life would’ve been better abroad and coming back to Seoul was truly a grave mistake that you have made? What if this whole decision was actually an awakening moment for you to realise that this is not where you should belong? 

Days went back and eventually, it became a week. There were only a few days left before you returned to the office for work. The longer you kept staring at the note, the more motivated you were to take the risk and start again. 

Every time you were reminded of what happened that very fateful night, you rationalised that maybe what Mr Lee said was true after all. Perhaps Seoul is really not your place to belong. 

As the clock ticked, your desire to leave everything behind felt stronger. 

You waited until the clock finally struck noon for you to finally stand up with your phone in hand, punching each number into the dial pad and bringing it to your ear. 

Once the ringing eventually got through and you were met with a voice on the other end of the line, you took a deep breath before muttering the words you have been reluctant about all this while. 

“I’ll take up the offer.”

“For the very last time sissy, I promise I will be fine,” you spoke through your headphones as you were on a video call with your sister, who was back home at your apartment. 

“You have never done something so impulsive before, and given that you made this whole decision during your darkest hours? I highly doubt that you’re okay, Miss Y/N.” 

“Well, I can assure you that the darkest hours are gone, and I’m now free and much happier. I can work with Fendi!” 

Your sister sighed through the phone. “Working with big brands is one thing; what about your physical and mental well-being?” 

“Rome doesn’t sound too bad to me, and besides, living in the UK for a couple of years has definitely given me the experience I’ve needed to survive back in the EU again.” 

“Fine. Just…be careful, okay? Give mom and I a call once you’ve touched down.” 

You gave a little flying kiss through the phone. “Don’t worry, I will.” 

After waving goodbye on both sides, you clicked the red end call button and leaned back onto the chair you had been sitting on for the past hour. It was definitely a shocker to you that Fendi was willing to accept you immediately without having to go through any sort of significant interviews and that they were kind enough to even provide accommodations for you. At the same time, you work for them under a contract of two years. Frankly, it was a good deal and a steal. 

You slowly stare into the digital clock on the big screen, which eventually becomes an announcement. 

“All passengers bound for Rome, Italy, please head to gate 4B and be ready for boarding!” 

Instantly, almost all of the people around you began standing and lining up as if they needed to be the first to get on board. You have always disliked and never understood why the rush and pushing against one another trying to fight for the first slot, so you often just sat back and relaxed until only a couple of folks left to board the plane. 

Time went by quickly, and thirty minutes have passed since then. Now, only a handful of passengers are left to board. That was when it was your cue to get up and sling your backpack onto your back. 

As you slowly walked towards the counter to let the flight attendants scan your passport and let you through the gates, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulders, causing you to turn behind to see who it was. 

You didn’t have much time to respond until you were pulled in for a tight embrace; that familiar cologne was enough to make the tears well up in your eyes again.

“J-Juyeon…” your voice muffled. 

“Stop. Let me just…let me do the talking this time. Please.” 

You would have definitely fought back and started pushing him away once more, but it seems that you were either too taken aback or lost all of the energy throughout the past week to do so. Instead, you just stood there motionless in his arms. 

“Y/N, I know it would be horrible for me to ask for forgiveness because I definitely do not deserve any of that after what I have put you through. Or even for another chance because you clearly gave me one, and it was my fault for not appreciating nor cherishing the moment when it happened,” he began stroking your head, his fingers running through your long, silky, soft hair. 

“But one thing is for sure: I will not let you go this time. This time, I am going to hold you so tight that there’s no room for you to escape; I’ll make sure that you will forever be safe and sound in my arms, and I will be the one who is going to bring you joy instead of pain and tears.” 

He then bends down to give you a little kiss on your forehead. “You mean a lot to me, Y/N. And I’d like to think you are more than just a friend; you’re my other half. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to move on, knowing that I will lose you again, and this time, forever, if I don’t stop you now.” 

“So please, Y/N. I’m begging you. Please don’t go.” 

With his final words, you eventually find your arms slowly snaking up his back and returning the hug to him. You weren’t too sure why you did that, especially after the tremendous pain you have gone through the past week in particular. At the end of the day, the phrase where the heart wants what it wants will forever remain faithful to you, whether you like it or not. 

You sobbed. “You’re not going to make me stay that easily.”

“Oh yeah? You think I’m not capable of doing that?”

“Prove it then.” 

Instantly, one of his hands travelled back up to your chin and lifted them, causing you to look directly towards his as he slowly bent down to interlock his lips with yours. The kiss was rather heated, as if the both of you had been waiting for this to come so badly. You couldn’t care less if you both were actually making out at the airport.

Juyeon cupped your face with both hands as he tilted his head for you to gain more entrance into his. His lips felt soft yet demanding as if you were devouring a forbidden fruit. In return, you run your fingers through his silky black hair. 

After a few minutes, you both broke apart for some fresh air, trying your best to catch your breath simultaneously. 

“Is that supposed to make me stay put in Seoul, Juyeon?” You teased. 

With that, he merely replied with a little smile followed by a smirk. “That, Miss Y/N, was actually a pact you made to me. Treat it as a contract, if you will, that you are bound to stay by my side no matter what.” 

“Ugh, that’s so foul of you!” 

“You should know that I have my ways; I’m not the CEO of GQ Korea for nothing.” 

The both of you eventually burst out into laughter while Juyeon finds both hands on your waist while you wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

“Listen, Y/N. I want to apologise on behalf of my uncle and Saeran.” 

“Oh, yeah. No big deal. By the way, is Saeran—”

“It’s not what you think it is.” 

“It’s not?”

He smiled. “She’s my little cousin, and she often showers me with tons of hugs and kisses, even though I’ve told her to stop a million times.” 

“Well, you’re lucky to have a cousin who loves you that much,” you replied. 

“Yeah, but she’s going to have to learn that she can’t do that anymore because someone else is going to replace her job for that.” 

As much as you knew who he referred to, you still wanted to drag this further. “And who exactly is that?” 

“Hmm…maybe the contract before wasn’t clear enough. Should I make another one?”

You slapped his chest immediately. “Don’t you dare, we’re in public.” 

Again, another burst of laughter was genuinely beginning to make you feel a lot better, even to the point of slowly healing all the scars you have had before. 

With that, you needed to make yourself clear to the man himself. 

“Juyeon, can I just be honest with you?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

“I appreciate you doing all of this for me, but I just want to give you a heads-up that it’ll take a while for me to heal from everything completely and that I’m sorry if I don’t give you the exact treatment that you expect from me, and I—”

You were then silenced with another kiss on the lips; this time, Juyeon took the time to shower you with as many kisses as possible, making sure that each was worthwhile before breaking the kiss again. 

“Y/N, I don’t care about all of that. You can take as long as you need, but just know that I will be here for each step you take, and I’ll give you support whenever you need it. I promise. I will not leave you behind ever again.” 

As you both plastered a soft smile, you leaned in to rest your forehead against each other, taking in everything that had happened minutes prior.

“Here’s to a new beginning with you.”

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @lngwayup @daisyvisions (join my permanent taglist here!)

[endlessthxxghts]

Routine

Frankie Morales x coffee shop worker!afab!reader || W/C: ≈7.9k

Summary: Frankie makes a new routine for himself to help with his mental health. In that routine, Frankie stumbles upon you.

Content/Warnings: POV switching - stops towards the end, then POVs are combined. Friends to lovers. Slightly scared and reluctant friends to lovers. Slow burn. Canon divergent to Frankie's Triple Frontier storyline (No history of lady or child for Frankie). Brief mentions of South America and Frankie's mental health. Brief therapy talk. Overthinking!Frankie, but Reader comforts and reassures him. He’s not insecure the entire time, promise lolol. Hints of angst, but this is me we’re talking about — always will be a happy ending here🫶. No physical description of reader besides coffee shop uniform (no size descriptions used) - any descriptions are neutral, no adjectives to describe (purely things like "your thigh" etc.). No use of "y/n". SMUT 18+ MDNI (making out, cunnilingus + fingering, unprotected P in V sex + cumming inside, breast worship/titty sucking). If there's anything that should be up here, please do not hesitate to let me know!

A/N: Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and happy days, everyone! This Christmas season, I was apart of @pedrostories' 2023 Secret Santa event where we gift some type of creation to another fellow Pedro-related blog on here. I'm honored to have created this story for the lovely @alwaysbethewest ! I'm a huge sucker for a soft man, so in reading the prompt you gave, I just had to write for good ol' Francisco Morales—the sweetest of the bunch. This story was so cute and sexy to write, I'm so excited to see what you think. I truly hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG

Frankie

You need to create a routine.

One that takes you out of your house.

Out of your comfort zone.

These words rang in Frankie’s ear as he allowed his feet to make decisions for him today. Ever since South America, Frankie has been struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy again. He rarely leaves his house unless it’s for groceries or work — or as of the last few months, unless it’s for therapy.

Frankie’s therapist noticed he was falling back into his old habits, his old mannerisms; and in being prompted about what his day-to-day looked like outside of therapy, Frankie was met with those three phrases. 

“You need to create a routine.”

“I have one,” Frankie says defensively. 

“One that takes you out of your house.”

“I do,” he says. “Work. The store.” 

“And out of your comfort zone.”

Frankie scoffs. As soon as he thinks of a quip, his therapist’s watch beeps. Saved by the bell. 

Frankie rises, getting ready to leave the room. His therapist leaves him with a new assignment. “Clear your schedule. You’re doing nothing but spontaneous decisions tomorrow.”

He takes a breath to calm his frustration. “How will you even know if I’ve done it?” Frankie asks. 

“I’ll know.”

“And if I lie?”

“I’ll know,” his therapist reassures. 

Which is why he finds himself in the early afternoon at a coffee shop, during what looks like to be its busiest hours of the day. Shit. 

He enters the line as he scans the menu on the wall, the line being long enough he’s sure he’ll make a decision by the time he gets to the register. He usually gets straight black coffee, but taking his therapist’s word a little too seriously, he opts for something else. 

Hazelnut? No. Mocha? No. Vanilla? No. Fuck, okay, this is harder than it looks.

He scans the tinier board off to the side for today’s special: an horchata latte, either iced or hot. Horchata? He can absolutely get by that. The guy at the register takes the order of the customer in front of him, and the same guy switches off and begins to make the customer’s drink. Waiting to be helped, Frankie reaches into his pocket to get his wallet ready, but still angsty from the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop, his grip fumbles and he drops it. 

He bends down to go pick it up, and as he stands back up, he’s immediately met by the most heartstopping view. You, with a brown apron, a hand-drawn name tag, and powdered sugar adorning your cheek. The smile on your face as you greet him causes his brain to short circuit. 

“Hi! How can I help you today?” you beam at him, completely unaware of the cuteness radiating off of you, melting his anxieties made of wasps and transforming them into the shape of flapping butterflies all throughout his tummy. 

“I- um, hi- yeah, I’d, um-” he stumbles on his words. You smile at him, nodding your head patiently and understanding. “Shit, sorry-” he laughs nervously. 

“You’re okay,” you giggle, slightly intrigued at the flushed state of the man before you. “This your first time here? We’ve got a lot of options, it can be very nerve wracking picking from our menu,” you comfort, probably assuming it’s the first-time jitters taking away his ability to speak. 

“Oh, uh- yeah, it’s my first time here,” Frankie confirms. “But actually, I had my mind set on today’s special? The horchata latte?” 

Your face lights up like a million suns, and his heart feels like it’ll burst any second now. “Oh my gosh, really?!” you squeal. “That’s my creation we’ve highlighted today,” you say excitedly, “and you’re actually the first to order it!” You ring up his total, Frankie handing you his card to swipe in the machine. “Hot or iced?” 

“What do you think?”

You study him for a moment. “Personally, I like iced because horchata in itself is already so refreshing, so it adds to that. But you seem like you’d prefer it hot, which is also objectively just as good.”

“Wow,” Frankie says with a smile.

“Was I accurate?” 

“Right on the nail,” he confirms. 

“Your name?” you ask, reaching for a cup.

“My name?” He asks, confused.

You gesture to the cup with a smirk. “For your order?”

“Oh,” he says. You catch the blush that falls on his cheeks. “Frankie,” he tells you, his hand shooting to the back of his neck to soothe his awkwardness.

“Well, Frankie,” you say after writing his name. “I’ll need an honest review after,” you smile at him as you turn away, signaling for someone else to take register so you can be the one to make his drink. 

He can’t help the cheesy smile that forms across his face at the prospect of getting to speak with you again. He turns around and searches for an open table. 

He sat on his phone for a few minutes, waiting for his name to be called when someone clears their throat in front of him. He looks up to see you, powdered sugar still kissing your cheek and two drinks — one iced and one hot — in your hands with that smile he’s slowly becoming addicted to. 

“Didn’t know you guys do table service?” Frankie asks, in a joking manner but truly he’s curious.

“We don’t,” you smile smugly as you place his cup in front of him. “Told you I needed my review.”

He smiles at you, then reaches for a napkin and lifts his hand towards you as you sit in the seat across from him. He gestures to your cheek. “May I?”

You go pale. “Oh, God, don’t tell me I’ve had shit on my face this entire time?” 

“Okay, then I won’t,” he offers gently. You lean closer into his hand, giving him the green light. He wipes the powdered sugar from your cheek, his face in concentration mode as he makes sure to wipe it all off. He feels you staring, his face heating up the longer your eyes are on him, but he doesn’t break. 

“There,” he whispers, “the shit is gone.” Your faces are still inches from each other. 

“Thought you weren’t gonna say anything?” you whisper back. 

He breaks the proximity first, clearing his throat to steady himself. He doesn’t reply to your remark. Instead, he grabs the coffee and brings it up to his lips. “Let’s see what this is all about, yeah?” The second the hot liquid touches his tongue, he knows his days of black coffee are over. It’s creamy, the perfect amount of cinnamon, a perfectly pulled espresso shot that highlights the natural nutty undertones — it’s fucking perfect, and he tells you exactly that. 

“Guess now you’ve got an excuse to come back,” you tell him. 

“I think I had an excuse before that,” Frankie quickly lets out before taking another heady sip, referring to the beautiful human sitting past him. 

You lean back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest, something akin to trouble written across your face. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, I guess you did.” 

He’s experienced enough to know when someone is flirting with him. He’s experienced enough to notice a mutual attraction. Yet, there’s something so bold, so intoxicating about you that you’ve thrown him off balance. Whether you’re just a naturally friendly, bold person, or you’ve actually taken an interest in him, there’s no way he’s going away now. You’ve got him hooked. 

You need to create a routine, he was told, and creating a routine is exactly what he’s going to do. 

It’s been six months since his first visit, and in those six months, he’s had the opportunity to really get to know you. 

In the first month, he visited twice a week, once during the weekdays and once on the weekends. He made sure to time it on what he noticed to be your shift, and he also timed it for right when you were about to take your break. Catching on pretty quickly, you offer him a bit of reassurance. 

“My schedule is the most consistent out of all of my coworkers, by the way,” you say, sipping on your iced mocha. 

His ears perk up. “Yeah? Why’s that?” 

“Been here the longest, so the owners let me play around with my schedule and pick up shifts that I want to,” you tell him. “But my therapist a few years ago told me to set a routine for myself, so-”

Frankie chokes on his coffee with a laugh. 

“Oh my god,” you giggle, “you okay?” you ask him, leaning forward to pat on his back. 

Frankie’s breath falters at the contact. “Y-yeah, I’m good,” he pulls away from your embrace out of nervousness. If you notice, you don’t mention it. “Just threw me off a little.”

“Why? What’d I say?” you reply. 

“No, it’s nothing, it’s just,” he sets his coffee down. “A month ago, I had a therapy session, and my therapist told me the exact same thing. They literally told me I needed to create a routine for myself,” he says. 

“Oh,” you say with a straight face. Your face goes unreadable for a second, and he feels like he fucked something up. “So is that why you’ve been harassing me for weeks on end?”

Frankie looks like he’s just seen a ghost, pale and flushed at the same time, his ability to form any kind of words rendered impossible. “I- no, I-”

In his state of panic, he’s looking everywhere except you. He feels your hands wrap around his, and you’re leaning closer to him, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Frankie, I’m joking,” you coo. You can see his jaw unclench as he searches your eyes for any signs of discomfort from him. Nothing. There’s something there as he holds your stare, but nothing tells him you don’t want him here. A shy smile forms on his face, and the bashful blush on his cheeks return. He knows you notice it, but still, you don’t mention it. 

“For what it’s worth,” you speak again. “I enjoy having you in my routine, too,” his own giddy demeanor reflecting back at him through you. There goes the butterflies again. 

Five months in, and he’s coming into the shop everyday. He doesn’t always get coffee, but mostly, he’s there to see you. Sometimes you’re way too busy to take a break any time soon, so he’ll slip in, give you a little wave hello, accept your sweet smile in return, and he’ll slip out. 

“Gonna actually get something today, Morales?” 

A few visits ago on your break, you ask him if his name is short for anything, and quickly add in that if Frankie is what he prefers, you don’t care to know anything else. His heart melts at the sentiment, at how understanding and gentle of a human you are. Not only to him, but to everyone who has the privilege to interact with you. 

Francisco Morales, he tells you. Francisco, Frankie, Frank, you can call me whatever you want. This time, he thinks he catches the heat creeping on your face, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. 

“Morales, huh? And what do you mean actually?”

“I’m not dumb, Frankie,” you smirk. “I know you don’t get anything a few of the times you stop by.” 

He swears his heart falls out of his ass. He thought you’d be too busy to even notice. As a former special op, he thought he would have been more slick about it. 

He scans the menu above you, as if he hasn’t studied it a thousand times over, just to get out of your piercing gaze. “Just tryna keep the routine, is all,” he retorts. 

“The routine, huh?” you smile at him, a hint of mischief in your eyes, along with that same something he can’t quite identify — it makes his chest swell. “Your favorite is back on the menu, by the way.” 

Frankie turns to the special board: horchata latte. Smiling to himself before he responds, “I’ll have that, then,” he says, reaching for his card. “You going on your break now?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you reply, “and coffee is on me today.”

His eyebrow quirks up at you. “Please?” you tell him with the world’s worst (more like cutest) puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen. How the hell can he say no to you now?

“Fine,” he deadpans. 

You squeal in excitement. You shoo him away to go find a seat, and you’re at his side within moments, two hot cups in your hands. 

He looks quizzically at the other cup. “I don’t know, I’m just feeling like a hot cup today,” you shrug. “What can I say, you’ve influenced me,” you giggle, not realizing just how much that statement affects Frankie’s crushing little heart. God, you’re beautiful, he can’t help but think as you curl up as best you can in your chair while you sip on your coffee. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way about you. One, you’re practically his best friend at this point, and two, you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with someone like him. 

“So,” you say, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“So,” he repeats. 

“I was actually thinking of taking this weekend off,” you tell him. 

His face falls a little, but he’s quick to fix it before you notice — hopefully. “Oh, is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Nothing bad,” you reassure him. “I just think I need a little weekend to myself before the busy holiday season really starts.” 

“That’s understandable,” Frankie replies. 

“Yeah,” you say softly. “But…” you trail off. 

“Buuuut?” He drags the word out for dramatic effect, sensing your nervousness and wanting to help calm you. 

You giggle at his antics. “But I don’t wanna break our routine,” you say quietly. A little oh escapes his mouth. “I was wondering if you- if you wanted to hang out, maybe? On Saturday? Or even Sunday? Whatever works for you… and you can obviously say no, don’t feel obligated-” 

It’s always been you cutting him off from his overthinking and comforting him, and now it’s his turn. He leans forward, wrapping his hands around yours as they hug your coffee cup. He gives you a little squeeze and calls your name gently. “I would love to.”

“Okay,” you say sweetly. “Wanna do a movie night?”

“Anything you want,” he tells you.

It’s surprising he didn’t have your phone number until five months in. Though, come to think of it, he’s seen you practically everyday since he met you. And there was no need to communicate beyond that. Right? 

Shaking his head to clear him from his thoughts, he copies your address from your guys’ text thread and pastes it into his maps. It takes him five minutes to get to your place, and as soon as he gets to your front door, you’re already opening before he has a chance to knock. 

“Oh! Frankie, hi,” you gasp delightedly. “Perfect timing,” you laugh. “I was just gonna grab the groceries out of my car. Go inside, make yourself at home.”

“Hi,” he smiles, “I can help with the groceries?”

“Oh, that’s okay, it’s just one bag. Give me one second,” you say walking to your car. 

He waits for you as you grab the bag, both of you walking back inside together. “So I’m terrible at picking a movie, and if I didn’t narrow down our options, I feel like we’d be here all night deciding.”

“What do ya got for me?” he smiles as he makes his way to your couch, purely just enjoying being in your presence regardless of the movie you both decide to put on. 

“Alright, since we’re nearing Christmas, I have a few holiday options, and then a few general of my favorites — Elf, The Grinch, or Home Alone; or we can do my personal favorite, but I promise I’m good with whatever you choose, Labyrinth, Paddington 1 or 2-”

Frankie’s eyes light up at the latter option, and you immediately catch on. “Okay, so I’m guessing one of the Paddington’s?” you say with a snort. 

He grimaces. “Was it that obvious?” 

“Frankie, you literally looked at me like I am your entire world,” you laugh. “Yes, it was that obvious.”

“I mean, it’s not any different than how I usually look at you,” Frankie says without thinking. Immediately his hand is on his mouth. 

He sees the shock on your face for a millisecond before you’re back to your usual cool and collected self. How the fuck do you do that? “Okay but which Paddington? There’s only one right answer, here.” 

Although his heart is still beating through his damn chest, the question puts him back on track. “Paddington 2, duh,” he says without missing a beat, he rolls his eyes as he playfully scoffs at you. 

“Good answer,” you say sternly but with a smile. You set up your TV onto Paddington 2 and then quickly run to the kitchen to grab the popcorn you made. You set the bowl on your coffee table, turning back to grab something to drink. “What’s your drink of choice? I’ve got water, tea, soda — I can whip up a coffee for you, too, if you’d like,” you yell to him. 

“Hmm, enticing, but I’m okay with water for now, though, thank you.”

You return back to your living room, scanning the table making sure you don’t need anything else. You ask Frankie if he does. 

“Just you,” Frankie says, again, not thinking before he speaks. God damn it, Francisco, get it together. 

You smirk at him, he sees your eyes tracing the red across his cheeks. Christ. “You’ve had me for a while, Morales,” you say under your breath, softly but still loud enough for him to hear. Your words genuinely cause his heart to skip a beat. You settle onto the couch beside him, ignoring his shocked face. “Ready to watch?” hints of your smugness still there. 

“Y-yeah, ready,” he stutters.

Six months. It’s been six months since he met you and his old self would never have expected his day to day to look like this. He’s got a usual stop at your work—always on his lunch since you start later—sometimes getting coffee and other times your smile is all that he needs to feel energized for the day. 

You

And on the weekends, you two share a movie night—your version of recharging for your next work week. 

Ever since the first weekend you took off, you loved the mental break it gave you, so Frankie encouraged you to take the leap and start taking off every weekend. The owners agreed, of course. He assured you it wouldn’t break into your routine together. If anything, your time together has increased significantly. You genuinely have no idea what you’d do without Frankie at your side nearly every single day, but there’s something in your heart telling you he’s feeling the same way. 

For six months, since the very first moment he fell bashful in his presence, you’ve been completely and utterly captivated by him. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling this way about him—especially not so early and not for this long—but there’s always been a magnetic pull between you. Both of you know it and neither of you can deny it, especially in the occasional flirty comment made by either of you, but there’s something holding you back from pushing for something more. You’ve grown accustomed to seeing him practically every single day, and one wrong move or one wrong boundary crossed, and suddenly everything is gone. You can’t risk it. You’d rather keep him at arm's length at all times rather than not have him at all. He’s your best friend for crying out loud. You cannot lose him to something so juvenile. 

However, with tonight being your weekend ritual paired with a particularly draining week of work, all you wanted was to curl up in a ball and sleep your entire weekend away. Though, what you wanted more was to see Frankie. He told you it was truly okay if he didn’t come tonight, knowing about how hectic your week was, but you weren’t having any of that. 

“I swear to God, Frankie, I will fight you,” you told him on the phone earlier. 

“Oh, really?” You could hear his smug face in his reply. “I’d like to see you try.”

The butterflies erupt in your belly and begin to fly lower towards your core, igniting a spark in the lower part of you that you’ve been trying to keep at bay for months. You take a deep breath before steering the conversation elsewhere. You know he both hates and loves when you do that—smoothly pulling away from the bait he gives you while saving his ego in the process. You’ve gotten so good at this after years of unwanted flirting from customers. You didn’t realize how perfect this skill would be in keeping your distance from the man you want most.

“Shut up and get your ass over here, Morales,” you tell him. “I know where you live, you should be here by the time I change into my damn pajamas.”

“Should I change into mine, too?” He teases.

You both know Frankie loses every flirty little challenge that occurs between you. Which is why he isn’t surprised at your response, but it still stirs him up nonetheless. “That depends,” you say, your voice dropping in tone. “Are you a gray sweatpants or plaid pajama pants kind of guy?”

“Both,” he says. To the average ear, it’d sound like the most casual response. To your ear, though, you can hear the pain laced in his voice. 

You stifle a giggle. “In that case, yes, please, by all means. Change into your pajamas, baby.”

You don’t leave room for him to reply, ending the call before you can overthink how that was the most suggestive flirty comment you’ve made yet. 

Pulling your head back into focus mode, you go to your kitchen to start preparing the usual snacks you two indulge in during these nights. You also got a new ice cream flavor on your last grocery run that you thought was interesting and wanted to try, but you’ll pull that out when he gets here. Or maybe not. You don’t need to watch him clean off his spoon like the attentive man you’ve come to learn that he is. Your body shudders at the image. 

Goodness, what is up with you today? You are always so good at keeping your feelings down, especially the physical ones. There must be something in the air today, because all you can think about are things you shouldn’t be doing with or to your best friend. 

Before you know it, a knock is at your door, and you cannot help the way your eyes immediately sweep his body from top to bottom with a lingering stare at his center. You’re absolutely shameless with it, too, your tongue darting out to lick your lips as you drink in the sight of him. Gray sweatpants. A dark green, fitted tee. You are drooling. 

Your eyes finally meet his own, and you’re met with a smug Frankie, knowing that this time, he won this round. “You alright there?” He asks you. 

Confusion takes over your face. “Huh?”

He brings his fingers up to swipe across his lip. Oh, dear God. “Got a little bit of...” he trails off with a smile. 

Your ears finally register his remark, and your hand is immediately swatting at his chest. “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “Get inside.”

He follows you into the kitchen, a new thing he started doing a few weekends ago to help bring all the snacks to your living room in one go rather than multiple trips. It also takes away from the amount of time he’s not with you, so you never questioned it. Walking back to the living room, you speak once more. “I cannot guarantee staying up the entire time, and I apologize now if I fall asleep on you.”

He says your name in an I told you so manner, “I already told you I didn’t have to come.” 

You’re sitting side by side on the couch now. “And I already told you I don’t care,” you respond back. He shakes his head disapprovingly at your persistence. You know he’s biting back a smile. A goofy smile you’ve caught a handful of times, and you eat up every single one. “You can choose the movie, though, seriously.” Adjusting yourself to a more comfortable position on the couch, a position where the sides of your bodies are closer together, your head finding solace on his shoulder, you add, “I swear, I think I wanted you here to be my pillow.”

“I’ll be anything you want me to be,” he whispers, taking control of the remote to throw on Elf. Your eyes are already beginning to close, and you mutter a small yeah at Frankie’s statement, then you are out like a light.

Frankie

Frankie spends most of the night watching and listening to you rather than the movie. Watching how your nose twitches ever so often or listening to the occasional snore that escapes you. He doesn’t even realize the movie is over until a trailer for another movie is halfway through. His wingspan allows him to reach the remote nearby, and he quickly shuts the television off. 

He debates if he should wake you and make sure you get to your bed safely, or if he should just slip out from underneath you and continue letting you sleep. You look so peaceful, he thinks. Yet exhausted. He decides on letting you sleep. Or at least, he tries to. 

He gently attempts separating himself from you, his hand cradling your head to rest it on the couch cushion rather than his shoulder. Even in your sleepy state, you’re just as stubborn. You smack his hand away and wrap your arms tighter around his arm, nuzzling your head further into his shoulder to gain your comfort back again. You let out a final huff before settling on your position. 

“Sweet girl,” he whispers. He can’t stop the endearment leaving his lips. His heart is too full at the way you’re physically attaching yourself to him. “I need to go,” he says softly. “Gotta let you sleep.” 

Your grip tightens more so, a little whimper leaving your lips as your eyebrows furrow. “Stay,” you mumble. 

And although you’re fully overtaken by sleep, he’ll be damned if he ever argues with you, no matter the state you’re in. He takes a deep, settling breath. “Only for a little while longer,” he mumbles unconvincingly as he minutely adjusts his body to a more comfortable position, his head leaning partly atop yours. 

You

It’s not lost on you—the two words that fell from Frankie’s lips when he thought you were deep in your slumber. It took every ounce of your willpower not to shudder at the way it echoed throughout your fatigue-hollowed brain. 

You thought that maybe, with Frankie’s perception of your sleepy state, you could let part of your inhibitions go with him—reveal to him how you really feel, and pretend the next morning that you don’t remember what you said if something you don’t want to hear is revealed. Though, that’s easier said than done, only able to build the courage to mutter one little word to him as you continue laying in his warm embrace, the soothing sounds of his steady breathing blessing your ears. 

The longer you lay here, the more antsy you become. What could possibly go wrong if you two revealed how you feel to each other? You know one hundred percent that the feelings are mutual; it’s a matter of who breaks first, and quite honestly? You’re fed up. 

You lift your head up, turning to look at him. He’s out.  “Frankie,” you whisper-yell. Nothing. 

“Frankie,” you say a little louder. Still nothing.  How the hell did he doze so fast?

Finally, with a small slap to his cheek and one final call of his name, he’s up—and confused as fuck. 

“Huh-” he blinks heavily. His groggy eyes are searching for you. “Cariño, are you okay? What’s going on?” he rushes out, the sleep disorienting his ability to respond appropriately, forcing worry to the forefront of his mind. 

Too worked up to let his brain chemistry regulate, you rip the bandaid right off. “Francisco, do you have feelings for me?”

Well, fuck. If he wasn’t awake then, he sure as hell is now. 

“I-” he takes a deep breath, still trying to get his brain to catch up with the whiplash of events. “Where’s this coming from?” he asks, slightly defensive from the natural accusatory inflection with a question like this. 

Your face falls. So does his heart. “Frankie, don’t be coy,” you say—you beg. “Please, just answer the question.” 

He breaks your closeness, turning his body on the couch to completely face you. You mirror his movement. His eyes are searching yours. That something he couldn’t quite identify; that something that swims your gaze every time his eyes meet yours? It’s there, and he knows damn well what it is. He was just too afraid to admit it, to mortalize it into something real, something tangible. Because deep down? He knows he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve the love you give. The loyalty. The care. He’s done too much bad in this world to even fathom a mere chance at a life with you. 

But the way you sit there, staring back at him like he’s your entire world, he can’t stop the selfish desire to spill his truth to you. 

“Yes,” he lets out. The pure admittance is like a ton of weights have been completely lifted off of his chest after carrying it for so long. He can see the relief on your face, too, all your anxieties washing away with a single-syllable, three letter word. 

“Oh, thank God,” you softly giggle as you choke back a sob. Frankie can feel his eyes tear up. 

“Frankie?” you call. 

“Yeah?” He asks. 

“Please kiss me.”

His hands are on your cheeks in seconds, pulling you in to slot his lips with yours, a sweetness laced with a fire that’s been begging to be ignited since he met you—powdered sugared cheeks and a smile that could take a person out faster than any punch in the gut could. 

It’s quick to grow more passionate, his tongue dancing across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You let him in, of course—your tongue falls into a perfect tango, as if it were meant to be doing this dance with him all along. A soft, breathy moan escapes your lips, and you eventually build enough strength to pull away. 

Frankie’s quick to apologize, his overthinking getting the best of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so carried away-”

You pull him in for a quick kiss to shut him up, a little laugh swirling in the air. “At what point did I make it feel or sound like I wasn’t enjoying that?”

In the dim light of your living room, you see a familiar tint glow across his nose and cheeks. He doesn’t—and can’t—respond to your very sound logic. “No, I-” you start, suddenly feeling yourself get all shy. “I pulled away because I- um…I was wondering if y-you-” you cut yourself off in frustration, grumbling out at the way you suddenly can’t face the man whose tongue was in your throat moments ago. 

You pick yourself up off the couch, grab his wrist, and swiftly lead you two to your bedroom. Crossing the threshold of your room, you stop at the edge of your bed. “I-is this okay?” 

Frankie stares at you in a trance, a lust-filled yet pure adoring trance. Before your eyesight can register, Frankie’s dropping to his knees, hands on your hips to urge you to settle on your bed. “This is okay,” he promises. 

He kisses your belly through your pajamas. “More than okay,” he mumbles to no one in particular. 

“Frankie,” you whimper.

“Can I taste you, baby?” He asks, his gaze finally breaking from your eyes to glance down to your core. 

“Y-you don’t have to,” your voice quivers. 

His fingers find the hem of your pants, waiting for your signal. “Oh, I don’t have to,” he tells you. “But I want to,” he inhales. “To be honest, I need to, so fucking bad, baby.”

“Fuck,” you say as you rapidly nod your head for him, his hands wasting no time in pulling your bottoms of you. The desperation laced in his voice alone has your eyes wanting to roll back. You’re settling yourself to the edge of your bed, leaning back as you spread your legs for him. “Take what you want, Morales,” you declare.

He smirks before he dives in. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Oh!” you gasp out at the sensation, pure warmth and passion behind his movements, your head struggles to maintain upright at the sight. Your bottom lip instinctively hides between your teeth in an attempt to stifle the moans threatening to escape you, your tiny little whimpers the only sounds escaping you. 

He starts with a flat stripe up your cunt, his tongue gliding through your folds and lapping up your wetness to bring it up to circle your clit a few times before dragging back down to your entrance. His fingers are curling into your bed sheet tightly, scared to cross any boundaries by moving too fast to your liking. His cock instantly jumps at his senses being consumed; your sweet, tangy taste mixed with the distinct, saccharine scent that’s uniquely you—he can’t control the groan that escapes his throat and floods through you. God, he could spend forever worshiping at your altar, completely and utterly content. 

He pulls away momentarily, the slick bottom half of his face shining back at you. “I just know you can make a lot more of those sweet sounds for me, cariño,” he says as his tongue licks his bottom lip. “It’s just you and me, baby, let me hear you,” he says with a sharp flick of his tongue to your clit. “F-fuck,” you yelp out, your body jolting at the sudden piercing pleasure of his tongue’s movement, your fingers scrambling to the curls on his head. He looks up to you with a smirk, reveling in your reaction.

And with that, his hands are gripping your thighs, his face jumping right back in, completely flush against your center, his nose squished against your mound. His eyes are rolling back at the feel of you, the way your slick just pours for him as he continues licking and sucking everywhere he can reach. “F-feel so good,” you moan, your strength finally breaking as your upper body crashes down onto the bed, your back arching in pleasure. 

His dominant hand releases your thigh, and you can feel his finger teasing your entrance as his mouth treks back up to your needy bundle of nerves. “Frankie,” you gasp, “please.” 

He moans a raspy mhm into you, his finger not wasting another second before he dips inside, utterly turned on at the warmth wrapped around his finger. He can only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his aching length. 

Frankie lifts off your clit with a pop, his finger still pumping in and out, in and out. Your hips are meeting each movement, desperate moans and incoherent pleas leaving your mouth as he watches your pleasure in a pure bliss.

His eyes fall back down to your cunt and the way it’s greedily swallowing his middle finger. “God damn, baby,” he mutters. “I think you can take another, sweet girl,” he breathes, leaning down again to place an open-mouthed kiss on your sensitive center. “What do ya think?” he asks breathily. 

He’s watching every inch of you—the way your thighs are twitching, the way your fingers are straining in its grip, the way your mouth is falling open into a weak o-shape as you try and force words to leave your mouth. “P-please,” you attempt, “a-another-”

Immediately, he’s straightening out his ring finger to join his middle, his smug smirk falling into a desperate one, needing to pull every ounce of pleasure he can from you really his only goal for tonight. “I’ve got you, cariño,” he tells you, his mouth returning back to lavish you as his fingers curl and hit the spongy trigger button from deep inside. 

You practically yell out for him—neighbors be damned—as your orgasm overtakes every inch of your being, catapulting you into another pleasure-filled dimension. “I’ve got you,” he comforts with his lips still attached to your skin, “let go for me, mi amor.”

His fingers are still pumping inside of you, fucking you through the intense wave of your orgasm. His head rests on your thigh, pressing soft kisses  and sweet praises as you slowly gain consciousness.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Too good to me.”

“Estoy tan enamorado de ti.” 

Frankie takes your hazy disposition for granted, using this small window to whisper everything he’s been wanting to say to you forever. 

You begin to whimper at his movements, and he takes that as his queue to relieve you. His fingers finally leave, his mouth taking the responsibility of lapping up your slick—thoroughly, you note, as you watch him rise to his full height.

“You okay, cariño?” He asks as he swiftly takes his shirt off. Your eyes grow impossibly darker at his bare torso, your spit falling thicker, and you’re quick to scramble yourself up higher onto your bed. 

“More than okay,” you mirror his words from earlier. He lets out a little laugh, the butterflies in his tummy ever-present as his eyes scan you up and down. He pulls down his sweats, too, before he’s kneeling on the bed, crawling up towards where you’re situated. You can’t help the way your smirk falls when your eyes do—pure hunger consumes your features, and Frankie’s cock jumps at the sight. 

He gulps at the way you’re eating him alive, too eager to be inside you yet too nervous in the case of accidentally messing anything up. The last thing he wants to do is cross the line with you. 

As if reading his mind, you take the initiative to pull your top off, your boobs an immediate distraction from his anxieties. “Don’t get shy on me now, Morales,” you say as you let your hands caress your body and make its way down to your still-soaked pussy. “She’s feeling so empty,” you pout, your hips bucking up as your fingers rub your clit. 

You swear Frankie’s eyes flash red, and he’s caging you against your bed within seconds. One arm hooked around your waist, the other holding himself up near your head. You bracket his hips with your own as his lips hungrily crash into yours. 

You can feel the way his cock rubs against your center, his hips grinding into yours, letting his tip catch onto your clit as your tongues fight for dominance. Your hand snakes down without him realizing, a hearty gasp leaving his throat as your fingers pump him a few times before you guide him towards your entrance, easily pulling him in with your post-orgasm slick. 

He’s slow with the way he’s thrusting into you; pulling out until only the tip is inside only to push all the way in at an agonizing pace as he lets you get used to his size.“S-shit,” he whimpers, followed by your name. “So d-damn g-good,” he takes a shaky breath. “‘S like you were m-made f’me,” he forces out, pained. 

Even though it was an easy glide in, Frankie is fucking huge, his girth still providing a slight sting of a stretch, but you love it. You’re gonna feel him inside you for days at a time, and the thought makes your pussy flutter around him. His hold on your waist tightens in an attempt to steady any squirming that might come from you. “Gonna fucking cum already if you keep on like that, honey,” he groans. His eyes are shut in pained pleasure. 

Fighting against his hold, you start meeting his thrusts, the angle of your hips providing the perfect friction against your clit, you just might cum again in seconds if you both keep this up. 

“I don’t care,” you tell him, your ankles locking around his waist. “Fuck me, Frankie,” you say, grabbing onto his face to making him look at you. “Make up for loss time, and fuck me,” you snarl. 

His lips are sloppily on you, hips speeding up, pounding into you deliciously hard. Both of you are too lost in the pleasure to even properly kiss right now—a mess of spit, tongue, and teeth clashing as you swallow each other’s moans. 

Frankie breaks his lips from yours and he trails his touch lower, biting onto your chin and nipping lower and lower all over your neck. The sensation causes a fresh wave of flutters at your core, evident in the even louder wet squelch each thrust produces from between you. 

You’re feeling so good, too good, that your chest arches into him, and Frankie takes the opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipples. Licking and sucking on each, slathering them in his spit before ultimately latching onto your left breast and practically making out with it as he continues fucking you into your matress. 

“Oh my God, Frankie,” you whine, eyes clamping shut at just how good he’s making you feel. “Just like that, baby, please don’t stop,” you say, your fingers finding purchase in his curls for a second time tonight, keeping him on your chest. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum again.”

He lifts off your left breast, and moves on to the right, trailing wet kisses on his path over. “Let me feel you, princesa,” he mutters as he gives your other breast the same treatment. His hand leaves your waist to make its way to your clit, giving you the extra push you needed to fall off the edge once more. Your pussy clenches at the feeling—a stream of yes and please and fuck leaves your mouth—causing his stomach to tighten, dragging him to the edge along with you. “Cum with me,” you say. “Cum in me,” you quickly revise, “need to feel you,” you whimper. 

His fingers speed up on you as his hips falter in its rhythm, and then it’s pure white, hot bliss consuming both of you in a way neither of you have ever felt. “Oh, fuck,” he lets out as he lifts off of your breast, pretty red flowers blooming under his mouth’s touch. Fireworks erupt behind your eyelids, vibrating you from the inside out, as a fire roars through every nerve of his body, leaving him a heaving, trembling, jello piece of mass above you as he struggles not to crush you. 

You can feel the way his muscles are shaking, the bed vibrating with him. A giggle filled with ecstasy escapes you, relishing in the contrast of the airiness of your body compared to the solid mass he turns into post-orgasm. 

You grab onto his shoulders, and softly nudge him to slide to lay beside you before you slip off on jello legs to the bathroom and kitchen. With as much strength he can muster, he turns to you with a frown. “Where you going?” 

“Just gonna get a cloth and water for us both, baby,” you chuckle. You head to the kitchen first and bring the waters to your night stand, taking a large gulp from your glass and forcing him to do the same. You bring yourself back to the bathroom and wipe yourself with a warm cloth, throw it in the hamper, and get a new one to clean Frankie. 

You make your way to his bedside, and you bring the cloth to his face first. He’s quick to stop you. “Frank,” you scold. “What are you doing?”

“I…” his face goes red. “I can still smell you on me.”

You swear your knees buckle, heat overtaking your entire body. “Let me clean it,” you whisper, not really knowing how to reply to that. He just gives you puppy dog eyes. You quirk your eyebrow at him. “You can taste me again later,” you offer with a smirk. 

He thinks it over for a second, a sigh escaping his lips like he just made the hardest decision ever. “Fiiiine,” he drags out, exaggerated. 

After you wipe the rest of him down and bring his cloth to your hamper, he’s quick to reach for you with grabby hands, always needing to be in your embrace—especially more so now.

You cuddle facing each other, your head tucked into his neck as your legs tangle with one another. He’s drawing shapes and lines all around your back. 

“Hey, Frankie?” you call out. 

“Yeah, cariño?” 

“You said something earlier,” you say. “Estoy enamorado something. What does that mean?”

Frankie’s ears go hot. Surely after everything you two just did together, that’s a declaration of love in itself. What more if it’s actually verbalized? “Oh. Um- yeah,” he replies a little rigidly. “Estoy tan enamorado de ti,” he repeats the phrase. 

You’re looking up at him now, eyes bright and curious. “Yeah, that!”

“It- um- it means…” he trails off. He meets your gaze, and his heart stops. He’s so in love with you. 

“Well,” he clears his throat. “It means I’m so in love with you.”

Your gaze shifts from one of curiosity to one of pure, unfiltered love. Your eyes are tearing up at his admission. He brings his finger up to catch a tear escaping your eye. 

You sniffle and take a shaky breath in. “Well, in that case. I’m so in love with you,” you state matter-of-factly, pushing your body up to catch his lips in a soft but lengthy kiss, one that hopefully translates to him just how much you love him, need him, and want him—ever since you took his order. 

He releases your lips to place a soft kiss to your nose then to your forehead before pulling you in closer to relax in each other’s hold. A few more moments pass before he calls your name. 

“Hm?” 

“Can you remind me tomorrow to reach out to my therapist?” 

“Of course, baby,” you say with a kiss to his chest. “Everything okay?” 

“Oh, yeah, baby, everything’s good,” he confirms. “Just need to send them a gift basket or something.”

You look up at him with a confused look on your face. “You and your therapist give each other gifts during Christmas?”

“No,” he tells you. “Well, I thought we didn’t. But in telling me to fix my routine, they led me to you, so.”

“Baby,” you frown, feeling yourself tear up again. 

“I know I pay ‘em to do this,” he says, “but a gift like this? A miracle like this? I feel like I’ve gotta give something a little more.”

Unable to hold in your emotions, you crash your lips against his for the millionth time tonight. Pulling away a little breathless, you say, “Sign my name on there, too.” 

End note: Again, I truly hope you, @alwaysbethewest (and everyone else) were able to enjoy the way this sweet sweet story unfolded. I didn't realize just how much their dynamic would mean to me, but here we are, an entire piece of my heart later💚. Thank you for prompting me exactly what you did. I'm endlessly grateful. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year! Lastly, I just want to give a little special shoutout to my rock @javierpena-inatacvest for proofreading this story for me and making sure it did our Frankie boy justice. I love you.💚

Tags: @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @survivingandenduring @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @yorksgirl

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future stories or would like to stop being tagged altogether. Much love! Xx

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[goblinontour]

Santa Baby

some christmas fun with your husband after the kids go to sleep

warnings: husband!dad!alex, fluff, smut, piv, roleplay (kinda?), body insecurity (a bit)

word count: 2.3k

it was the first christmas you would be spending alone as a family and it was already a big mess. your two kids had been going crazy for the last few days about how they can’t wait to see santa, to meet him. and you couldn’t break it to them that santa wasn’t real, obviously, they were still little.

but it was too late to hire someone to come dressed as santa, it was already christmas eve. the only solution you could come up with was for your husband to dress as santa. he was reluctant at first saying they would know it’s him but you begged him and he agreed, eventually. he spent god knows how long until he finally found an open store that had a costume and he was getting a bit excited now, couldn’t wait to see how the little ones’ faces would light up.

your house was decorated like one you’d see in movies. you were a sucker for christmas and loved to place all the lights all over the house and this time the babies were old enough to participate in decorating the christmas tree. alex wasn’t the biggest fan, but he loved seeing you all happy from those silly things, and his heart was full with joy watching the little angels you two created, your family finally complete. well, maybe not fully, you continued to beg him to get a cat but he was putting it off saying he’s ’allergic’. liar. you know he’ll cave soon enough.

so time for santa to come was here, you brought the kids to the living room and they went nuts saying they can’t believe santa’s there for them and that he’s real. you were struggling so much not to laugh at alex all dressed up with the cheapest looking white beard on his face and a pillow stuffed under that to make it all the more accurate, even though he had a bit of a belly himself, being off from touring left a mark on his body, the once lean stomach he had now soft and squishy. he got insecure about it sometimes, but you assured him that you don’t mind it at all, making sure to tell him you fucking love it. it was so nice to lie on him and feel him so plump.

it went down perfectly after all, your heart melting as you watched him try to change his voice to make fantasy come true. they did ask where daddy was but you fooled them saying he was tired and already asleep, waiting till the morning to open santa’s gifts. and they were too young to question it. they agreed on opening the presents in the morning with daddy there as well, but they were happy they met santa.

soon enough they grew tired and you put them to bed, reading a little christmas bedtime story, and you caught them dozing off after only a few minutes, before they could hear the end of it. you gave them both a kiss goodnight and went downstairs to your husband to spend the rest of the evening together.

he’d removed the pillow from under his top and taken off the fake beard, but now he was scratching his face desperately.

“al stop it!” you told him off.

“what?!” he questioned, looking annoyed and irritated.

“you’ll give yourself an ugly rash if you keep scratching like that.” you said to him, not wanting to hear him complain about the marks later.

“it’s fucking itchy. ‘s your fault for making me do this.” he complained, pointing at his costume, but you knew he didn’t truly mean it.

“shut up. i know you loved it.”

“of course i did. just because i love the kids” he confessed “and you” he added, making sure you know it. “come here baby” calling out for you and putting his hand out for you to grab, and once you did he quickly pulled you onto his lap, taking you by surprise with how eager he was to hold you. and he grabbed your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him.

“now, why don’t you tell santa…have you been a good girl?” he said in a low tone, leaning down to kiss you softly, but quickly deepening it by grabbing your jaw and angling better towards him so he could slip his tongue into your mouth, dancing with yours in perfect sync. his mood was now vastly different to how he just acted a few minutes before.

“alexxx, what’s gotten into you?” you giggled as he started kissing down your neck, his own stubble ticking you and his hands slipped under your pyjama shirt, rubbing up and down your side.

“you won’t get a present if you’re not a good girl, answer me.” he pushed, nudging his nose into the crook of your neck, loving having you so close, taking in your scent. he said it was even better than the baby skin scent that you both got addicted to aftee having your first little one.

“yes, i was indeed a good girl this year, don’t you know it already?” you played into the little game he started.

“i don’t in fact. and i don’t believe you. why don’t you prove yourself?” you knew what he was getting at, you could feel him growing hard under you even through that thick costume. you moved so you get into a position where you could feel him better, and you started grinding your ass into his growing erection, evoking a grunt from him.

“good girls don’t tease” he warned, grabbing your face again, slapping it playfully a few times, very soft.

you moved, got up in front of him and stripped, taking off your clothes in the most seductive way you could, although you were wearing some christmas patterned pyjamas, and it was a bit silly. but you tried your best and knew he still loved you and would take you regardless of what you were wearing. you turned around so your back was facing him and you put your ass out, wiggling it for him and looking at him over your shoulder, smirking once you noticed the tent in his pants.

“i said no teasing baby.” he grabbed you by your hips and pushed you down on him again. he was fully hard, you could feel him perfectly as your bare cunt was rubbing on his dick over his pants.

by now you yourself were aching for it, wet in anticipation, and you knew those pants were already ruined by your juices dripping onto them.

he started grinding his hips and one of his hands went to play with your breast, kneading it in his palm and pinching your nipple every now and then.

roles have switched, he was now teasing you by also bringing his hand down between your legs, his fingers ghosting over your wet pussy, and he started by gathering the arousal from your hole, bringing it up to your clit and rubbing gentle circles that were simply not enough. you were whining and in painful need for more.

“please alex…need you.” you cried out

“what do you need darling?” fucking hell. he was going to make you beg for it, his fingers teasing your hole now, only the very tips slipping in and you moaned as he bit down on your neck, in that spot that made you go crazy for him.

“you baby please. your girl needs your cock now.”

“my girl mhmm…that’s right.” he hummed, pleased with how much you grew to need him so quickly. “then you better be a good girl and take it nice and deep, yeah?”

“yes, i promise.” you said before he even got a chance to finish his sentence, so eager. you needed him right now.

he moved his hand from your breast, snaking it around your waist to hold you tight in place, his other one leaving your pussy. he slipped it between your bodies, going under you, grabbing your ass and lifting you up just a bit so he could push his pants down, together with his underwear, leaving them to fall down to his ankles and rest there, not bothering to slip them off completely with his feet.

he took a hold of his hard cock, brushing the aching tip with his thumb, spreading the precum gathered there down his length, pumping himself a few times before lining it up with your entrance. he played with you once more, holding you so tight that you couldn’t just sink down on him, teasing your empty hole by pushing in just the tip, wanting to hear you beg for it again.

“al fuck me already, this is torture.” you complained to him, you needed him so fucking bad.

“ask nicely…how a truly good girl would say it.”

“santa baby, please fuck me now, please i need you inside me-“

before you could continue to beg him further, and you would’ve, he took a hold of your hips and lowered you down on his cock, both of you moaning in sink at the way it felt. you because of how good he felt finally being inside you, and him because of how your perfect hole took him in, moulded to him, forever just for him.

you started to grind on him, rolling your hips, loving the way he filled you up, but apparently it wasn’t enough for him. he held you by the hips again and started bucking his hips up, and you met his thrust by moving with him. he was so desperate, grunts leaving his throat continuously, combining in a lovely way with your own moans and whimpers. and god how much did the sound of his belly slapping your ass with each one of his hard thrusts turn you on and drive you crazy for him.

but he suddenly stopped and grunted as if defeated and disappointed, and you didn’t know what happened.

“what’s wrong alex?” you questioned, genuinely confused.

“‘s not deep enough. not like it used to, my big fucking belly’s in the way.” he complained, and you looked back at him over your shoulder only to see his face adorned by that little pout he does. he was like a kid mad at his parents cause he couldn’t eat candy before bed. you couldn’t help but laugh softly at how truly sad he looked.

“alex your belly’s so fucking hot stop complaining and fuck me.” you said to him, it hurt you to see him upset over that, but right now you really needed him to fuck you. “is it not good for you?”

“no, it is, but i was worried about you…’s not like it used to, do you even like it?”

“oh baby…you fuck me so good and i love your belly, i’m not just saying it please believe me now” you assured him.

“okay love, fuck you good right?” he seemed back into it, leaving his insecurities out of it for now.

“mhm, so good, you always do” you continued.

he started fucking into you again, this time slow and as deep as he could, he knew you loved it slow and honestly he was tired, the thick costume making him feel too hot.

it was absolutely delicious like that, how you would feel his plump fat head rubbing inside and hitting that spot that made you see stars just perfectly, despite what he said about it ‘not being deep enough’. he was just stupid.

his hand on your waist went to your mouth momentarily. “spit on ‘em baby, get them nice and wet.” he demanded, and you complied instantly, lowering your head to suck on the fingers he put up first, rubbing your tongue along them, tasting yourself from earlier. he slipped them out and you spit on them like he asked. he licked his lips and bit down on the bottom one as he felt your spit running down his fingers. he then brought them back down to rub your clit again, circling it just perfectly, your spit making them slip around just right on the sensitive nub.

you were so close, so was he, you could tell from how he was panting heavily as he continued to fuck into you, biting down on your naked shoulder harshly, making you hiss from the pain but the pleasure drowned it out, far greater than the temporary burn on your skin.

the moment his fingers pushed on your clit just right and he hit that spot deep inside you at the same time was it for you. you came all over his cock and he continued to push you through your orgasm, not giving up his movements on your clit, though his hips were faltering from how you were squeezing his cock so tightly. he fell apart not long after, your still sensitive and pulsating pussy milking him as he came, his warm cum deep inside you filling you up, coating and soothing your used hole.

he laid back on the chair, trying desperately to catch his breath, and you collapsed over him instantly, too fucked out to hold yourself up, his now softening cock still buried inside you.

“wait a second honey, just-“ he pushed you off him so he could take the dumb costume top off once and for all. “don’t know why the fuck i kept that on.” he laughed.

“well, now i can say i fucked santa, right?” you joked, pressing your back against his bare chest, loving the soft sweaty skin sticking to your back.

“that’s right baby” kissing the side of your face and rubbing his face against yours.

“it tickles stop ittt.” you tried to squirm away from his stubbly face but he hugged you tight so you couldn’t get away.

“i love you fucking so much, my girl…my wife…still can’t believe how lucky i got” he confessed.

“i love you forevermore.”

a/n: merry christmas i guess! i literally wrote this impulsively at the christmas family dinner…yeah. enjoy!

tags: @4chaos @picturezonthewall @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @whitepontiac @ohladymoon @rentsturner

[franticvampirereads]

This was so soft and sweet and cozy. I loved that Charlie got to come out of his grumpy, gloomy shell and that Thomas was the one to do it, with his bright sunshiny self. I loved the way their relationship developed from delivering mislabeled packages to friends to lovers. It was just so sweet and it’s getting four out of five stars!

[assiraphales]

Blanc should meet Shawn. I think it'd be fun. I think he'd become Shawn's reluctant uncle.

benoit blanc, trying to enjoy a vacation in sunny california, stepping aside to avoid two men sprinting by him: pardon me!

shawn spencer, stopping in his tracks: gus, spot me *immediately falls back into gus' arms*

gus: shawn

shawn, stage whispering: does that bone structure and blazing blue eyes not ring a bell? that is benoit blanc. only my idol since forever 

shawn, throwing himself up: mr blanc. it is an honor. I have a framed photo of you in my bathroom.

benoit: oh. very nice. what's the time? dear me, it seems i'm running late for--

shawn: WAIT. my name's shawn spencer, detective working freelance for the santa barbara pd. and my partner james bond the seventh and I are on a case right now. like, right now. care to join?

benoit, who was honestly getting kind of bored, not realizing he’s making a life altering decision: .....alright. i don’t see why not

[zooone]

FREE ... (I GUESS) ... ?!

aka. reluctant trick-or-treating with toji fushiguro.

words ?! - 553

content ?! - no warnings!

an ?! - i really hate this but i feel bad for not doing day 4... im sorry guys ... im sooo tired ,. also his wife could be you or mamaguro, up to u ..

#znfspooktober mlist

"this is dumb.”

“toji!”

“i dont get it.”

“its free candy."

“... okay fine.”

famous last words. to toji, at least.

he was never one for holidays. during christmas, he would sit just sit there and enjoy the food that was provided. if one were lucky, he would be wearing a santa hat. maybe.

but now that his kids were old enough to actually trick-or-treat without crying and bailing out after two houses, he very reluctantly decided to come with. it was definitely not because his wife very politely asked him to and of course, he could never say no to her. totally.

he stood there, carrying all the coats and bags that no one else wanted to carry. the most he did costume-wise was let his wife draw faux scars and stitches and he pretended he was a zombie. megumi insisted on being a dog, and tsumiki a cat.

“can we go to this house next?” tsumiki asked, tugging on toji’s sweatpant leg.

“‘course we can. cmon megs.” he guided both of his kids to the house, snorting at the decorations. weird pumpkins and skeletons and witches, it made him roll his eyes.

little did he know that his wife was behind them, holding up her phone and recording the way that he gently rested his big hand against his kids’ backs. it was a domestic action that somehow came naturally to him.

“honey?” he turned around, one eyebrow lifted in a sort of confusion when his eyes locked with the camera. “what do you think you're doing.”

“nothing!” she giggled, placing the phone behind her back and batting her eyelashes in a fake innocence. toji glared.

“come. here.”

and she jogged up right next to megumi, who was already prepared in holding up his little bucket to receive his candy. he had barely spoken the entire night, but his lips were slightly curled upwards and he hadn’t complained much. tsumiki on the other hand was a chatterbox, telling stories that they already heard, but no one stopped her from telling them.

“you’re so cute, honey,” she giggled towards her husband, reaching up to pinch his cheek right up against a drawn-on stitch. she spoke in a mocking tone that made his eyebrows furrow.

“you’re overdoing it.” he groaned, but he held back a grin. he loved how enthusiastic she was. and if that came at the cost of his dignity, it was a price he was willing to pay. “this house better have some good candy.”

“my friends told me it doesn’t..” tsumiki chimed in, nodding her head matter-of-factly. her ponytail bobbed as she did so.

“what? then why the heck are we here?” his face curled up in a scowl as he tapped his foot on the house’s porch.

“i wanted to see the pumpkins..” she pouted, mastering the wide eyed look that made it impossible for toji to ever say no. not that he would to begin with.

toji turned around to see what tsumiki was talking about, and he scrunched the space on his nose. “the pumpkins are ugly.”

megumi didn’t have to speak, he just lifted his hand and pointed. and everyone saw the house owner in the doorway, crossing his arms and expecting a sort of apology or acknowledgment. but all he got was a,

“what. its true.”

10.25.24

SPOOKTOBER MLIST!

regular mlist

[tinned-beef]

UMBRELLA ACADEMY S4 EP 1 SPOILERS

the text under the read more has spoilers for the first episode of season 4! it’s a summary of everything i can remember from the premiere. please don’t click if you do not want spoilers!

first scene is gene and jean playing cards with santa baby in the background

they leave the card game to negotiate for two copies of love on loan- one starring allison hargreeves (and tom holland lmao) and the other starring a different actor

gene kills the dealer and they take the copies

luther is a stripper- although a very awkward one. there’s only one lady in the crowd that seems invested

diego is a mailman. he’s tired of his in laws (who are alive in this timeline!), tired of parenting, and even more tired of lila’s lies and secrets

allison is trying to work her way back up into acting. she’s currently stuck doing detergent commercials. she clashes with claire’s teenage attitude

klaus lives in allison’s basement and helps her with claire. he’s been sober for three years

five is investigating the keepers, although the cia wants him to put an end to his search as they deem it unnecessary

ben just got let out of prison (after 3-4 years?) he calls luther to pick him up

viktor gets dumped by his girlfriend and owns a bar. he seems to have a lot of friends there

lila goes to the keeper meetings with the alibi of having a book club

it’s lila and diego’s daughters birthday. her name is grace! she’s turning six

luther brings ben along

five says it’s good to have ben back

allison drops off claire and klaus but refuses to come at first. she has an audition tomorrow and knows nobody will want her there

lila goes out for a breath of fresh air and wrangles allison inside with her

things are very awkward with allison. especially between her and luther

luther tells diego that people would kill to have what he has. he says sloane and him wished for a life like diego’s

luther breaks the piñata and messes up the birthday cake in the process

luther reminds viktor of the party, and while he is reluctant to come he eventually does. however he gets kidnapped before he can enter lol

lila and five run into each other at the keeper (keepers??) meeting and find out gene and jean are waiting for the cleanse. when they ask for clarification they get threatened

lila and five go out for dinner after to talk over their findings. lila swipes at fives face like ‘ugh all you hargreeves boys eat the same.’ diego sees through the restaurant windows. he thinks lila is sneaking out with five during her ‘book club’ meetings

luther takes ben back to where he’s living. it’s the umbrella academy building- now an abandoned home for wayward boys

there’s a message left for him that viktor has been kidnapped

luther calls the family over to rescue viktor

the kidnapper reveals himself as jennifer’s dad. she attended the keeper meetings for years and eventually stopped talking to him. he wants to get her back and gives the siblings the box of umbrella academy artifacts that jennifer had

five agrees after seeing that the box has a jar of marigolds in it

the siblings go out for teppanyaki

they agree to not drink the jar- nobody really wants their powers back

ben swipes the jar

ben tells them to have one last drink for old times sake, his treat. all the siblings drink

it’s revealed that ben put the marigolds in their shots

all in all a really incredible episode! the family bonding is STRONG in this one guys. they’re closer than they’ve ever been. definitely hyped up for the remaining episodes

[sapphireicecream]

Merry Christmas (for those who celebrate it at least lol)/Happy Holidays!

I offer a reluctant Santa Unknown :) 🎄❄️☃️🎅💖

[armysantiny]

Perfect Little Pet – KHJ

P: Hongjoong x afab gender neutral reader | G: smut, oneshot | Inc: cruella!au, cruella!hongjoong, assistant!reader, 'Captain', 'pet', Felix mention, journalist!Wooyoung, Yunho mention, Wooyoung/Yunho mention, set in the UK, Trafalgar Square, flaring tempers i.e. Hongjoong's, fashion studio, cruella movie-esque fashion show, Hongjoong occasionally abusing his power, wet dreams, fwb ending, a lot of British references and general mannerisms, two smut scenes | Wc: 5.9k

W: d/s tones, 'Captain' used during sex, bent over the desk, dom!Joong, sub!reader, overstim, begging, wet dreams, blowjob, cumshot on face, backshot during sex, one/two uses of the word slut, 'pet' used during sex (please let me know if I've forgotten anything, I'm writing this post up at 1 am)| R: 18+ mdni

Summary: Captain. Anyone who’s anyone knows who that is; none other but the rising name in fashion and making a name for himself for his eye-catching and punk-inspired shows. And right there in the back, is obedient little y/n, the childhood friend. The assistant to the Captain and one of the few to know Hongjoong for who he is behind the scenes, uptight and frantic and so achingly desperate to be perfect. Good thing they’re the Captain’s perfect little pet.

Min's notes: We're starting the year off strong! And you may have figured it out already, but @hee0soo, I'm your secret santa! I had so so so much fun writing this, you have no idea. When I tell you I was giggling like an idiot when you answered my question in the server, it was perfect. I hope you like reading this! And this happens to be my longest fic <33 also, 'on the dole' = on benefits hehe

There’s graphite on his hands, smudged all over the sketchbook, and Hongjoong takes another look at the plain mannequin standing by its lonesome in his office. Something’s missing, he knows it. Is it the hem? The length of the sleeves? Whatever it is, Hongjoong can’t bloody tell and it’s driving him up the wall. The designer groans, dissatisfied with own progress and discards the sketchbook on his desk. He gets up with just as much frustration, boots stomping across the floor in the direction of the balcony. His production facility looms below him, hard at work.

Almost taunting him.

“Just one more…” he mutters, taking a reluctant step back into his seat, “one more of the bloody things and I’ll be ready for runway…” Sure, it is self-imposed encouragement, but it is encouragement. Hongjoong isn’t a beggar. He’ll take what he can get. And take, of course. Until his pencil simply drags along the paper with no real goal and he snaps the dastardly thing between his sleek fingers, throwing its remains against the closest wall. It clatters to the floor just as the frustrated designer storms towards the door to his office, opening it and unleashing a powerful tension upon the production floor.

“Bring y/n up here!”

Y/n shivers from where they stand, helping move a box of supplies into the stock room. No matter how long they’ve stood by Hongjoong’s side, there is nothing that will help them get used to the sound of him barking out a command like that. A frustrated Hongjoong is a live wire – temperamental, snappy, and not someone to be approached without caution. They freeze with the box for just a moment before it’s taken out of their hands by one of the new starters.

“Captain sounds pretty miffed,” they say, pulling on the sleeve of their hoodie, “go on, I’ve got this!”

“If you’re sure…”

“Course I am luv, go on already~” And y/n is all but gently shoved out of the stock room, left to face their employer. And childhood friend.

All eyes are on y/n as they walk through the building towards those ever-familiar stairs, trying to ignore the weight of everyone’s gaze. It’s just Hongjoong, our Joongie, there’s nothing to be anxious over, their mind repeats, heels clicking along the wooden panelling amongst the unusual human silence. Seconds go by excruciatingly slowly, and finally, y/n stands in front of Hongjoong’s office. One steadying breath, and then another.

The door opens before they have a chance to knock, Hongjoong all but yanking his assistant inside and locking the door behind them both. There’s an impatient energy in the room, furthered even more by the fact y/n watches their friend pull them along to the mannequin and frantically go about putting his prized mannequin back by the window where it overlooks the production floor.

“Lean against the wall for me, will ya?” Hongjoong asks, reaching for his sketchbook once again, certain he’s found a muse in y/n. They have this gait around them that would work just so well with his new line, it would be criminal if he doesn’t capture it on paper at least once. Well, perhaps a few times, because the creativity comes back with a vengeance. His pencil glides along the cartridge paper with ease, framing y/’s silhouette perfectly and a grin erupts on his face.

Finally. Finally, he can make a start on creating the showstopper piece.

Time is but an illusion as Hongjoong works on his piece, occasionally looking up to really solidify the vision he’s got in mind. Y/n’s holding themselves just the way he needs them to, providing just the right amount of feedback and silence he needs, and Hongjoong might as well be inside a creative paradise of his own making. He’s found the right formula. He’s found his new muse, perfectly shaped in the image of y/n, his little assistant. The outfit seems to come together all on its own as he draws, each stroke of the pencil working in tandem with each other to create a look he knows will absolutely shock the viewing public in Trafalgar Square.

It’s around an hour later when the design is finally complete, Hongjoong’s mind at ease as he does one last look over everything. He’s done it. The look is perfect. There is just one thing…

He’s rather hungry now.

“Right,” he starts, setting his sketchbook down, “that’s us done here y/n, thanks again pet~”

“O-oh, it’s no prob—”

“But do get us a spot of lunch, would you? I’ve been dying to try out that new brunch café. I want either a chicken alfredo or a chicken Caesar salad, understood?” He tosses y/n his wallet as they begin to leave, turning on his heel and collapsing into his office chair with a yawn.

“Your regular coffee too, Captain?” Y/n asks. Oh, what a darling they are.

“You know me too well~ of course I want my coffee. I want them both here by the half hour.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Checking the time as they leave the café, y/n breathes a sigh of relief: they’ve got at least another fifteen minutes to make it back to the factory if they can get to Hongjoong’s favourite coffee spot before the lunchtime rush, otherwise they’ll be late. So, they make a break for it, taking extra care to leave their Captain’s lunch flat in their bag lest they have alfredo decorate the inside of the gifted Nevada Leather Weekender slung over their shoulder. The coffee spot itself is only a few metres away, less than a few minutes to run, but every second counts in the world of the Captain.

Lady Fate is on their side it seems, because there absolutely no sign of a queue, or even the beginnings of one, when y/n makes it to the coffee shop. Aurora, a quaint little place y/n remembers Hongjoong spending almost every free minute in before they watched their friend shoot to success, when they were still just two friends with a dream. Their running slows to a brisk walk as they enter, greeting the barista with a smile and getting a card ready as soon as they confirm they’re after the usual iced latte with two extra shots of espresso and a shot of vanilla. Once payment goes through and the coffee is in their hands, y/n is out of there in a heartbeat, eager to make it back in time.

“Look at you~ exactly two minutes early,” Hongjoong muses as he sees y/n walk into his office. He pockets his stopwatch, hangs his custom-made coat on the coatrack and takes his coffee. “If there’s anyone I trust to make coffee the way I like it, it’s that pretty one with the deep voice. Face of an angel, but, God, that voice?”

 Oh. His lunch is on the desk, but y/n is still here.

Strange.

“Well, are you waiting for me to say something? Run along now, pet, go… oh, I don’t know, busy yourself until I need you.” He chuckles, shooing them away and waving with his fingers once y/n is finally out of the door and Hongjoong can eat his lunch in private, just the way he likes.

Y/n’s bag slides down their arm and onto the floor of their studio flat as they step inside, well-earned exhaustion lacing their bones and pulling a yawn out of their mouth as they fall onto their sofa. They’re used to running all over London for Hongjoong, sure – hell, their daily step count always passes ten thousand – but it’s the weeks leading up to one of his planned fashion event-hijackings that y/n truly feels the burn. Where they truly feel pushed to their tether.

 But it’s always worth it in the end, they remind themselves in between making themselves a cup of tea, watching the kettle boil. Together, they will achieve worldwide success, their brand – Silver Light – will be in every boutique and everyone will know who the Captain is. Y/n spoons a teaspoon of sugar into the mug, pops in the teabag and pours the boiling water and milk, huffing at the connection their mind puts together.

They’re the teaspoon of sugar. Not the main event, no, but an addition to make things sweeter. To make Hongjoong’s plans sweeter.

“New sources and evidence have since come to light regarding the hijacking of Oxford Circus last week. The impromptu fashion show was caused by the organisation called Silver Light, headed by someone calling themselves the ‘Captain’, who witnesses say was armed with a cane, yet no one has been harmed. Following an insider comment…”

The rest of the news story plays on tv, y/n’s interest piqued when they recognise the journalist behind it all. One of Hongjoong’s newer friends, a trusted insider working for the BBC that y/n’s met a good few times. They grab their phone from its charger, unplugging it and dialling the number they’re looking for. It’s a few seconds before they hear the call pick up on the other end of the line.

“Can it be~?” Wooyoung’s voice sings through the phone, “the Captain’s assistant is calling little ol’ me~?”

“Good evening to you too, Wooyoung.” Y/n laughs, ever fond of the charming journalist. “I’m watching your news report tonight, my… you know just how to create the right kind of excitement. A master with words, one would say. Just how do you it~?”

“Y/n, darling,” y/n can almost see the playful rolling of the journalist’s eyes, “you’re flattering me, you know? But flattery gets you everywhere with me, so thank you ever so much.”

The conversation goes on for another half hour, y/n giving Wooyoung all the subtle information he needs to create the next buzz around Silver Light’s next big show. There needs to be a sizable crowd for Trafalgar next week, and Wooyoung is just the right person to weave his words and create that buzz y/n knows Hongjoong is looking for. All manner of press and paparazzi should be there; Silver Light needs to be on the front cover of every broadsheet and tabloid in England.

And when they switch to video call so Wooyoung can jot everything down, y/n chooses to ignore the knowing glance sent their way. They’ve had this conversation before, plenty of times even – concern that all of y/n’s efforts aren’t their own will, that Hongjoong’s somehow forcing them to be his assistant. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

They make themselves another cup of tea, and sigh when Wooyoung still refuses to back down.

“Woo, I know that look,” they sigh, already knowing what comes next. The concern, the lecturing. The you’re being his servant, y/n, you deserve more than that. “This isn’t something Hongjoong is making me do, I really do want Silver Light to succeed. This is my dream too, even if it doesn't look like I want it as much as he does, or it looks like he’s forcing me.”

“Y/n…”

“Have a little faith in me, hm?” They bargain. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“If you say so—” Wooyoung’s gaze snaps to something above the camera, “oh, Yunho’s home, he brought food! See you soon y/n~”

“See you soon, say hi to Yunho for me.”

The call ends, and y/n is left with their thoughts, a hot cup of tea, and a muted news channel playing on their tv. Rather than let themselves succumb to the impeding thoughts on the horizon, y/n sips on their tea, unmutes their tv and scrolls through BBC iPlayer until they find the most recent unwatched episode of MasterChef and hits play. The thought manages to persist, though.

Are they just Hongjoong’s errand runner? A simple cog in the machine that Hongjoong pays just that bit more attention to than the others?

Hongjoong’s footsteps echo along the floor as he walks through the production floor, inspecting every station as he passes them by. The Trafalgar show is but days away and he cannot afford a single error whatsoever. He’s counting on this one to be a success; Wooyoung’s articles have created the right kind of stir he needs, y/n’s been busting their ass helping him with the finer details, the last thing Hongjoong needs is his plan falling apart.

So why the fuck can he see someone stitching a button incorrectly?

“You!” He barks, storming over to the unsuspecting employee, fury lining his brows. It stuns the rest of the room into silence, terror in their eyes as they watch. “Are you trying to ruin this week’s show?! Just what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!”

They shiver, the poor thing, watching as Hongjoong furiously inspects the garment for any more errors. It’s a simple mistake really, a small oversight but they know better. Everyone at Silver Light knows better:

Captain doesn’t give second chances.

But then Hongjoong smiles. Not a genuine one by any means, no, but something that’s a little too sweet.

“What’s your name, darling?”

“M-my name is Felix, Captain—” whatever Felix tries to say is cut off by a heart-attack inducing bang, Hongjoong’s cane slamming down on their workstation in the blink of an eye. The shock sends Felix tumbling, and they prick their thumb on a fashion pin, droplets of blood staining the floor where they stand.

“Oh, just get out!”

“Captain, wait! P-please!”

“You’re fired, get out!”

A pin-drop silence echoes through the building, Hongjoong’s frustration palpable to everyone watching. The workstation is unmanned now, no one remaining to take the task, yet the buttons still need to be taken out and resewn on. Properly, this time. Exhaling, Hongjoong slips his cap off in favour of brushing his hand through his hair, the black and white split-dye messing up and framing his face.

What he needs right now, is y/n to make his problem go away. To be his reliable ally and fix the problem in his way.

He pats his coat down, looking for his phone and almost wants to cry out in relief when he finds the infernal device in his back pocket. A deep breath slips past his lips, and he calls y/n.

And like the angel they are, y/n picks up.

“…Joong?” They rasp out, clearly still tired. “It’s my day off, is everything alright over there?”

No, everything is not alright, Hongjoong wants to rant, the stress itching away at under his skin.

“I really, really wish it was, pet. How fast can you get here?” He asks, praying that the rustling he hears from the other end is y/n changing into their usual work outfit.

“Y/n? Pet?”

“Still here!” They call out, and Hongjoong has half the mind to kiss them when they arrive. “Just checked the traffic, I can make it in twenty?”

“Make it fifteen and I’ll get you that pretty gem of a car you’ve had your eye on.” Hongjoong offers, huffing out a laugh when y/n readily agrees, and the line goes dead seconds later. They’re on their way to Silver Light, and all his problems will be solved. For whom else can Kim Hongjoong rely on other than his y/n?

The clock ticks by agonisingly slowly, teasing Captain with every second that y/n is still on their way. Sure, he can fix this specific coat that Felix so wonderfully fucked up, but there’s a whole line of these that need to be done, and the designer is only human. He can’t do this alone. But he can relax because as soon as Captain resigns himself to hand-stitching every coat, y/n comes in through the door, hurrying over to the workstation and shoo-ing Captain away.

“And you fired him?! Over a button?!” Y/n asks, completely baffled as they listen to Hongjoong rant while they’re stitching the buttons properly. “You really have lost your marbles, Kim Hongjoong.”

“But you still came to my aid! Y/n, you know I couldn’t do all of this without you~” They deadpan, scoffing with smile they can’t control when Hongjoong latches himself onto their back in gratitude. “You’ll be able to handle doing the rest of the coat buttons, right?

Y/n rolls their eyes. They can handle it.

“Bring Felix back, and I’ll stay until the end of the day,” they bargain.

“Deal!”

Y/n doesn’t regret offering to help Hongjoong, really, they don’t, but they have a day off in the middle of the week for a reason. Exhaustion nips away them as they finish the last of the coat buttons, hanging the last one on the rack and patting the sleep out of their face as best they can. Felix is back inside, replacing y/n at his workstation with a meek smile and y/n doesn’t know whether to be happy the young man is back or give the split-dyed designer running the entire outfit a piece of their mind—

And Hongjoong’s calling them into his office.

There’s a corkboard standing when they enter, Hongjoong pinning post-its with various last-minute details. It’s chaotic — more so than usual. Y/n takes a few steps towards the board, reading Hongjoong’s ideas and avoiding the eccentric designer running circles around them.

“Why the last-second rush around?” They ask, still obediently helping Hongjoong sort out his mismatch of written thoughts. “I thought we figured all the details? You’re going to smash the event, Joong, I know what you’re capable of.”

“Awe, thanks y/n~” Hongjoong pats their shoulder. “Your unwavering faith in me is awe inspiring~”

“Oh, shut up,” y/n laughs, then yawns. Bloody hell, they’re tired. “I know I said I was going to stay for the rest of the day, but I’m asleep on my feet here... I can come in tomorrow?” It’s a risky bargain trying to convince Hongjoong like this, but it’s worth a try.

“Y/n, pet... You’re just fine, just sit in here for a bit,” and there goes their chance at rest as Hongjoong admonishes them. “And I need that brilliant mind of yours for later; can’t have you sitting at home, now can we~?”

 No, no he can’t apparently. So, y/n stays, because of course they do.

But now it’s a day before the big hijack, at the god-awful time of one in the morning and Hongjoong is still deliberating over what to wear for the event, lovingly dubbed Project Trafalgar by his darling y/n. Y/n, who answered his messages only half an hour before and watches Hongjoong run around from their spot on his bed, legs crossed and looking oh so cute.

So easily corruptible. But he stores that thought away.

Hongjoong holds up one of his favourite blazers for y/n, a navy cropped piece he’s admittedly worn far too many times. It’s supposed to go with the rest of his outfit that’s already spent a good few hours working on, one that’s going to blow people’s minds away when he reveals himself once Project Trafalgar finishes successfully. Y/n tilts their head, examining the clothing and giving a sleepy thumbs up, nodding their head as they approve of his choices.

“You know~” Hongjoong sings as he goes to hang the blazer up in preparation for tomorrow. “Sometimes I think you’re the true genius behind our success, you always know just how to make everything look absolutely perfect.”

Y/n laughs, and Hongjoong wants to hear more of it.

“Is that Kim Hongjoong appreciating me I hear?” They tease, and Hongjoong gets to hear more of that endearing laugh when he mock-glares in their direction. “I’m just taking the mick, relax. I appreciate what you said, this is important to me. Silver Light and yourself.”

“You’re important me to me too, pet.” And it’s true.

His outfit hung up and decided, Hongjoong finally starts to feel the pull of exhaustion himself. Y/n really wasn’t lying when they said the designer was going to crash from his adrenaline high. He stretches, lithe and cat-like, and disappears into his ensuite to change into something a bit more… suitable for sleeping after an all-nighter putting together his outfit. His cleanser and other nighttime hygiene products are on the shelf above the sink, and Hongjoong figures that he might as well get started removing the stress of the day from his face.

“Y/n, darling,” he starts, “do you think that—”

Hongjoong stops talking when he gets no answering noise in return, and he pokes his head out of his bathroom. Y/n is asleep. He chuckles; of course, y/n is asleep because unlike himself, y/n actually has a normal sleep schedule.

So, he forgoes the question was going to ask them in favour of heading to his bed, lifting’s y/n’s head and resting it on his lap after he sits down. Their hair is soft, he finds, loosely getting his fingers tangled as he finds a strange comfort in the moment he's found himself in. The silence doesn’t help either; letting Hongjoong’s mind spill out words of gratitude he knows his pride would never let him say. It’s better that way, anyway.

But Captain isn’t entirely devoid of basic human empathy.

“Get some rest, pet,” he mutters, “you earned it, my busy little assistant.”

Hongjoong shivers, his head thrown back on the sofa of his flat as he watches y/n through near-shut eyes. They’ve got the head of his cock in their mouth, swirling their tongue around the tip and good lord does Hongjoong want to just buck his hips into y/n’s warm, pretty mouth and—

Not yet. Not if he wants to stretch this out and enjoy it just that little bit longer.

But apparently, he isn’t the only impatient one in the room because y/n wastes no time in getting more of his length inside their mouth, hand wrapping around the remainder. Cold hands and a warm mouth are a killer combination, and Hongjoong shivers with a groan, bucking his hips forward and enjoying the sound of y/n’s muffled surprise.

“Don’t you start acting like that, pet,” he says, reaching down to grab their hair. He gives a few testing thrusts and fuck does he want more. “You’re just as eager as I am, you and I both bloody well know that.”

A rhythm develops, one that has sinful noises bouncing around Hongjoong’s flat and a coil of heat building in his abdomen, his orgasm drawing closer by the minute. Y/n’s moans send vibrations up his cock, and it’s really not all that fair. Not when he’s trying so hard not to just shoot his load down y/n’s pretty throat.

But fuck if y/n isn’t trying to suck his soul out, their criminally talented tongue making his cock twitch. Higher and higher his voice climbs, until his hips are twitching, breaking his rhythm and Hongjoong wraps his legs around y/n’s back, gently forcing them to look him in the eye.

“Where do you want it, pet?” He’s met with y/n’s questioning blink before they tap their face and their chest. “Fucking tease, want me to paint you in my cum? That right, baby?”

They nod, pulling themselves of Hongjoong and yanking off their top in record time. His cock is in their mouth again, twitching as the coil builds and builds, until Hongjoong pulls out, pulling y/n’s face back and coming with a shout of their name.

“Fuck, darling...that was—"

Y/n’s startled awake when Hongjoong shoots up out of bed, watching through tired eyes as the frazzled man looks around the bedroom. They do the same, deciding under the cloud of sleep to not question how and why they ended up in the same bed, but whatever time it is, is no humane time to be awake. So, y/n pads around for their phone, checks the time, and groans.

It’s three in the morning.

“Joong...everything okay?” They ask, shrugging the cover over their face, eager to return to sleep.

“Hm? Oh— yes, yes... everything’s fine, just have Trafalgar on my mind.” Of course, he does. They roll their eyes, an affectionate chuckle and reach over to yank him back down, filing away the sound of Hongjoong’s squeak in the depths of their mind.

“Go back to sleep, love…it’s too early for you to fret.” Y/n says, the comfort of their words wrapped in the inviting warmth of sleep. They fall back asleep just as well, quickly enough that they miss the tint on Hongjoong’s face and his mumbled agreement.

There is all but one precious hour until Project Trafalgar is underway, and Captain has been fidgeting with his hands for the last half of it. He goes through every step of the process once, twice and he’s about to go through it a third time when Captain feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s y/n, and he takes a few deep breaths as per their instructions as his mind hits the breaks on his fretting.

“Captain, you’re doing it again.” They admonish. He blinks; he’s doing what? “Bloody hell, you’re the greatest fashion visionary in British history, this will go perfectly. Ok?”

“Ok.” Captain nods, maintaining eye contact. Reliable little y/n, always by his side. He keeps up with the eye contact, looking into the eyes watching him with so much confidence and unbridled trust that he can feel the confidence resurface under his own skin.

And then y/n leans forward to peck his lips, and his heart does a thing.

“Go on, show them all who Silver Light’s captain is.” Y/n chuckles.

“Are you saying they forgot, pet?” Hongjoong counters, the need to fret over last minute details gone entirely. “Tonight, will be unforgettable, I can promise you that much pet. Make sure you’re watching, hm?”

And watch, y/n does, as they stay hidden away from the obvious police presence Silver Light seems to attract and watch as Captain’s show begins. The music is loud, attention-grabbing and y/n feels excitement light up every nerve in their body. Months. Months and months of sweat, blood and tears has gone into every moment, and they watch the models come into view, each wearing an individual piece from Captain’s new line. It’s gorgeous. Utterly stunning, and y/n can’t help but snap a few pictures and record a quick video.

They’re going to need material to send to Wooyoung, after all.

The next half of the models make their appearance, and y/n very much joins the crowd’s cheering, clapping as each piece is given its moment and basking in the theatrics of it all. Everything sings with Hongjoong’s personal touch. It’s dramatic and elegant and everything that y/n knows to be the essence of Hongjoong’s taste and the Silver Light brand. The crowds are loud, and y/n uses the opportunity to slip away unnoticed from the police and the general public, back into the safehouse Silver Light had so kindly borrowed for tonight’s event. Sure, they’re going to miss when Hongjoong reveals himself and scatters leaflets inviting everyone to purchase an item from his collection, but they’ve seen that all before.

And then they fall asleep on the closest sofa.

Hongjoong bounces in with excitement as he pushes the door of the safehouse wide open, the leftover adrenaline coursing through his veins. He laughs, victorious and gleeful before yanking a now wide-awake y/n.

“Someone looks happy~” they comment, and Hongjoong stops outside his makeshift office, letting his adrenaline take the lead and planting a kiss on their lips.

“Oh, y/n,” he exclaims, pushing open the door and pulling y/n inside. “You have no idea! My darling pet, I~ will be making good on that promise I made.”

And almost immediately he has y/n pressed against the wall as he captures their lips in a kiss, eager and finally getting to act on that bundle of unspoken desire in his chest. A hand is cupping their cheek, tilting y/n’s head as Hongjoong’s tongue pushes past their bottom lip, demanding entry in the only way he can. He explores the warmth he had dreamt about, a chuckle sounding in his throat as y/n’s mouths feels just as good as he had imagined.

“Perfect…” he whispers, a trail of saliva connecting their mouths as he pulls away. “my perfect, perfect y/n…”

Hongjoong gasps in pleasant surprise when y/n makes the move to attack his neck, kissing and sucking on his skin with vigour. He relents, exposing his neck for his darling y/n and busies himself with the task of removing their clothes. By simply ripping them clean off, enjoying the surprised whimper that vibrates against his neck. He pulls them back just that little bit, running his gaze across their exposed body and—

Oh, how pretty his y/n is.

The hairs on the back of y/n’s neck stand up under Hongjoong’s eyes as heavy breaths leave their lips. This is happening now, and they want it, no matter what tonight will do to their friendship with the man in front of them. Whatever lingering hesitations they’ve ever had go out the window, and y/n wastes no time themselves in removing Hongjoong’s clothes, just that bit gentler about it than him.

“Pretty little pet,” they shiver as Hongjoong whispers in their ear. “Want to be good for me, don’t you?”

And they do. They really, really do.

Somewhere in between heated touches and the new hickeys being made on their skin, y/n watches as Hongjoong sinks to his knees, grabbing the inside of their thighs and getting dangerously close to their cunt. He’s taking his time, kissing just close enough to their folds, making y/n twitch in anticipation, but it’s not enough. They want more. Y/n needs more. So, they buck their hips, chasing the feeling but whimper the moment Hongjoong pulls himself away and holds them still.

“You said you’d be good for me, pet, didn’t you?” They nod.

“Then beg. Beg for me to get my mouth on that gorgeous little cunt like the good little slut we both know you are for me.”

So, y/n begs. Pleads with Hongjoong to shove his face in between their legs and eat them out until their knees buckle, for him to push his lithe fingers inside and wring cries out of their mouth. For Hongjoong to fuck them.

Satisfied, Hongjoong digs his fingers into y/n’s thighs as he pulls their legs apart, tutting as his favourite little pet tries closing their legs, suddenly shy. What, did they think he was joking?

“Still or I leave you like this, understand?”

“Yes, yes Captain…” And Hongjoong likes that.

“You keep calling me that, pet.” He says, and wastes no time in pulling himself closer, licking a fat stripe along y/n’s folds. They’re wet, and Hongjoong goes to town, indulging himself and sucking on the sensitive flesh until his nose is buried in y/n’s cunt, drinking up the sounds of his pet’s gasps and whines, his title a song on their lips. He keeps going, bringing his fingers to y/n’s untouched clit, rubbing against the bud in achingly slow circles.

He spends minutes like this, slipping two of his fingers inside y/n’s sopping cunt and sparing little mercy as he coaxes them closer and closer to orgasm. Hongjoong’s cock is stiff in his dress pants, straining against the fabric and the taste on y/n on his tongue is going to make him fucking come if he isn’t careful. He peers up from where he’s kneeling between their legs, hooded eyes making contact with the desperation looking back at him.

“Hong— Captain! Please!” Y/n cries when Hongjoong slips a third finger inside them, hands scrambling for purchase against the wall of the office. They’re close, so achingly close and fucking dammit they need to come so badly. But Hongjoong doesn’t relent, raising a brow and watching them writhe where they stand.

“Please, what, pet?” He taunts. “Use your words like the good pet you are.”

“I— I want to come! Please, Captain, I’m so— fuck, fuck— so close, I need—” Whatever words they want to say are stolen out of their throat, replaced instead by an overwhelming pleasure that has them squeezing their eyes shut, at the mercy of Hongjoong’s will. It’s unrelenting, and soon enough their orgasm is crashing through them, shooting stars through their vision all the while Hongjoong makes them ride it out on his fingers, the man getting off his knees and pulling them into a heated kiss. They can taste themselves on his lips, and it only spurs on another wave of desire.

They’re bent over the desk when the last of the first aftershocks leave their systems, head held back by neck as Hongjoong whispers dirty promises and slides his cock into their inviting – and only a little sensitive – cunt. A second goes by, the designer allowing y/n to only just get used to it before he starts thrusting, a leisurely quick pace.

“All this time, darling,” Hongjoong groans from above them,” all this time I could have had this perfect body of yours bent over my desk. Made for me, you were, absolutely made for me.”

And fuck, aren’t they just?

Hongjoong can’t hold back anymore, and he presses his chest against y/n’s back, pounding away into their tight hole and groping their chest in his hands, nipples caught in between thumb and index finger. Y/n’s cries are only motivation, and in the few seconds it takes for him to figure out the best angle, Hongjoong decides he’s allowed to chase his own high, giving into the devil on his shoulder and biting on the soft flesh of y/n shoulder.

“It’s so much, oh god—”

“Fuck- just a little longer pet, c’mon,” he rasps, his own orgasm well within reach. “Where do you want it, hm? You can answer that much, can’t you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck— on my back, I want it on my back!” And what else is Hongjoong to do, but oblige? He fucks them into them with the slightest hint of abandon, holding y/n impossibly closer and the orgasm builds, and builds, until he’s pulling out and coming onto their back with a drawn-out moan, his hips stuttering as the waves of pleasure begin to die down.

Exhaustion makes its way into the room, but it’s welcome this time, as Hongjoong very graciously helps y/n rest on the sofa he’d luckily had moved inside the office. There’s some wipes and a towel, and he makes quick work of cleaning the both of them up, ruffling up y/n’s hair when they watch him, almost surprised.

“And what’s that look for?” He huffs, tossing the used wipes away and patting them both dry. “I’m not that bad.”

Y/n simply laughs and shakes their head. They’re rather cute sometimes.

“Just,” they gesture to the office and between the two of them, “all of this; the event, the sex, the… us, I guess? I’m going to be sore tomorrow but fuck, that was amazing.”

Hongjoong nods along as he heads over to his desk and pulls out two water bottles, handing one to y/n as he sits down beside them, the pair donning robes. Nothing but the finest cotton, of course. There’s a silence that overcomes the rooms, and Hongjoong welcomes it – y/n too, sinking into the plush cushions and eying the evidence of sex in the room.

And then Hongjoong breaks the three minutes of silence, because his mind suddenly craves an answer.

“Y/n, pet… do you think this will change anything?”

“Between us, you mean?” He nods.

“Well, you’re treating me the same way you normally do, I don’t exactly want to date you…seems pretty same-y to me.” Y/n reasons, but then they pause. “Though, the sex continuing would be a pretty nice bonus~”

Hongjoong laughs, “so our little relationship is on the dole then, is it?”

“Oh shut up, you.”

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