#i don’t like drama so seeing my name there is like OH NO what did i do!!!!
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batfossil-fr · 5 months ago
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nothing triggers a heart attack like doing my quarterly AR scroll through and suddenly seeing my name there
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hamilando · 13 days ago
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ੈ✩ 4K video (smau) ੈ✩
pairing : lando norris x fem reader
summary: some things are better kept quiet about
tw : angst, fluff
fc : ester expostio
a/n : thank you so much to @evasmlp for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻 THIS FIC CONTAINS SENSITIVE TOPICS ( leaked videos, hate, s!ut shaming) please understand that I don’t mean to harm anyone with this fic, but kind of reflects on the recent Seunghan Scandal in the Kpop industry. ( he was a member of a boyband riize, and got kicked out and people sent death wreaths to him because his photos of kissing his girlfriend got leaked) #riizeis7, let the celebs live a normal life please
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
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liked by landonorris, aron.piper and 3,568,297 others
ynpapi did I just graduate high school at the age of 24!?
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user1 NETFLIX RELEASE IT
user2 can't wait to have a crush on everyone
manurios babygirl 👄
ynpapi aren't you like gay?
manurios babydick 😒
ynpapi your management will be calling you in another 2 mins
user3 I am also gay for you yn 😔
aron.piper oh god, you really took your spanish roots seriously
ynpapi bow down to your papi ����🤭
aron.piper please don't be high on set
user4 I just follow her to see her friend group drama
landonorris Aron, Danna, please make sure my girlfriend doesn't die by flushing herself down the toilet
aron.piper got it boss 💪🏻
danna you don't even have to say it
mariapedraza even I exist!! I can also take care of her!
manurios you just took a bottle of vodka from my cupboard
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liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmieux and 3,987,267 others
ynpapi can't believe my f1 champion is 26
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georgerussell I think I skipped a century worth of f1
charlesleclerc when did this short kid become the champion?
carlossainz that too before me!?
francolapinto in a Williams? Highly unlikely
carlossainz you don't even have a seat kid
ynpapi STOP BULLYING MY LANDO AND I CAN SAY WHATEVER I WANT
ynpapi lando baby, I love you and they are just jealous of you
landonorris I love you
landonorris GOING TO ZAC
landonorris I AM SO WINNING THE WDC
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 452,937 others
hollywoodlife BREAKING! Y/N Expostio’s ex boyfriend ( non-celeb) has been arrested for leaking their private videos from when she was just 19. Y/N Expostio is currently dating F1 driver, Lando Norris.
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user1 that’s fucking sick
user2 SHE WAS 19!?
user3 if he wanted to ruin her career, he should have just blackmailed for money
user4 DOING ANYTHING TO RUIN A CAREER IS SICK !
user5 we love you y/n, stay strong 💪🏻
user6 I can’t imagine how tolling it must be for yn and lando
user7 but glad she got what she deserved, her fault for even making that video
user8 EXCUSE ME !?
user9 that’s just straight up bs
user10 PARDON HER FOR ENJOYING LIFE WITH HER BOYFRIEND !?
user11 now get her out of elite, didn’t like her acting anyways
user12 exactly! replace her !
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liked by manurios, aron.piper and 2,267,176 others
ynexpostio with the recent speculations going on, I would like to announce that me and Lando have decided to take a break after 3 years. It was a mutual and amiable decision and I wish him all the best!
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 345,388 others
f1wags BREAKING! Lando Norris revealed the reason of their break up with Y/N Expostio!
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user1 and you all are still hating on that poor girl !
user2 she literally sacrificed her love just so he doesn’t get any hate!
user3 but lando should have declined!
user4 like always they have posted half the stuff
user4 Lando said after that line that he didn’t want to do that but Y/N was struggling mentally and so he decided he to respect her desicion.
user5 I swear being a celebrity means living your life on the edge
user6 you know it's bad when she changes her username back to her own name 😭
user7 they have not broken up! they are on a break !
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liked by landonorris, aron.piper and 1,376,346 others
ynexpostio my d1 ♥️
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 538,368 others
f1wags Alexandra and Y/N were seen in the Ferrari paddock for the Mexican GP!
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user1 umm, she is going after Carlos now ?
user2 both Ferrari drivers are dating
user3 first a slut and then a cheater ?
user4 this lady is messed up
user5 YOU BREAK WITH LANDO FOR THIS !?
user6 can't even defend her anymore
user7 SHE IS FRIENDS WITH ALEX AND CHARLES! she can go there as a friend too !
user8 imagine her cheating with Charles
user9 READ THE DAMN NEWS, HER EX BOYFRIEND HAD ESCAPED POLICE CUSTODY AND WAS STALKING HER, ALEX AND CHARLES ARE HELPING HER !
user10 he better stay in jail for the next few centuries
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liked by landonorris, aron.piper, charlesleclerc and 2,268,286 others
ynpapi break over, the movie resumes 🎬
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user1 SHE IS BACK !!
user2 WE LOVE YOU !!!
user3 don't scare us like that ever again
user4 what happened to the ex ?
user5 killed off from the movie
user6 he is in jail ☺️
tg: @sainzzreputaticn
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6okuto · 1 year ago
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FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS
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gn!reader | timeskip kenma, hinata, sakusa, suna
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KENMA’s chat has never moved faster than now as you sit together and watch edits that fans have made of him, and the two of you. you jokingly coo and hug him when you find an edit about ���how he looks at you.” “ken! oh my god, you’re so—” “shut up, scroll away already.” “no, i’m sending this to myself, stop—give me the phone!” kenma turns away, forcing you to wrap yourself around him in a desperate attempt to grab the phone while it’s still on the video. the both of you are laughing when you yell, “chat, chat, somebody send that edit to me!” “chat, don’t listen to them. we aren’t even dating. this relationship was fake the whole time.” “shut the fuck up, kenma.” you say in mock annoyance—a grin still on your face—and hit his arm. he snickers as you stop to rest your head on his shoulder and frown. "please?" a beat passes before he huffs. “fine. i’ll send it to you after.” it was an inevitable outcome, but you still cheer and turn back to the stream to see everyone’s reaction, not catching the loving gaze he has on his face watching you again.
HINATA, despite his usual energy, finds his eyes drooping as he watches the live chat scroll past him. it was late, and he decided to talk to fans before going to bed—about upcoming games, a new restaurant he visited that he thinks might become a favourite, how he’s been looking for new shoes. it’s been maybe an hour when his responses are filled with more hums than sentences, and he decides to rest his head. by the time you find him, he’s been asleep for 10 minutes. “hi guys, i’m gonna end the live and get this guy to bed now,” you whisper with an amused smile. shoyo shuffles at the sound of your voice, and his comes out muffled against the pillow. “babe?” “sorry, sho, did i wake you?” “mm, ‘s okay. are you coming t’bed soon?” “yeah, just ending your live.” “...oh. goodnight everybody,” he murmurs and raises his fingers in what’s supposed to be a wave. his fans watch as he reaches for you, eyes still closed, and make sure to take screenshots of the sleepy, lovesick smile on his face after you kiss his forehead before the live ends.
SAKUSA’s always been teased about how little he posts on his social media outside of things related to his career. it’s not a shock that your relationship isn’t something he posts casually. after an interviewer jokes about how fans might think he’s single, or that you’ve broken up by this point, kiyoomi decides to make a photo dump encompassing the last few months with you. it has a photo of you tucked in bed and sleeping the first night at the new apartment, a video of you singing where he can be heard softly laughing in the background, a photo of you smiling at the birthday gifts and dinner you enjoyed together, a blurry selfie with the two of you kissing, and one where kiyoomi, known for his stoic face and attitude, is a little tipsy and smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck from behind. fans pour out words of support and excitement below his caption of “i love you. happy anniversary, and thank you for letting me be yours.”
SUNA and you are chatting with some fans when one asks if you’ve been watching anything lately. you both say the name of the drama you’re watching together without hesitation, the most recent episode still on your mind. “the way he like, turned her to face him and they were so close before finally kissing—” you cut yourself off with a grin, flustered at the thought as everyone excitedly agrees. “has suna ever done something like that?” someone asks. rintarou turns to you the same time you look at him, cocking his head to the side with a teasing smile. “yeah, have i ever done anything like that?” “no,” you lie, staring right at him. his fans team up, “ooooh”’s thrown his way. you’re not sure what anyone was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to take it as a challenge and step closer. the crowd is suddenly quiet as he leans in, eyes flickering from looking into yours down to your lips. “are you sure?” he murmurs. your breath hitches as he moves in even closer, lips barely an inch from yours. before you realize it, your eyes are fluttering closed as his hand comes to cup your face and lips meet yours. it’s barely a few days later until a video of you kissing goes viral, and rintarou is saving it to his gallery.
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@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist
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hiiikiko · 2 months ago
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001: ‘She’s in a band’
TW: Light smut, Ellie being a jerk tbh. (Not proofread bc I took my meds and I’m feeling lazy :P)
Moving to Seattle wasn’t your first choice, I mean, you were perfectly happy in Arizona. You had friends, family, and most importantly, a band but some drama happened and you wanted to get away from it all. Your first choice was going to California but you had no money, no stable job, and no place to crash so, you reluctantly went to Seattle. At least you’d be closer to the music scene and you haven’t seen your favourite cousin in awhile..
Gazing out the window as the amtrak came to a halt you see Jesse sitting on a bench, legs obnoxiously sprawled out and a toothpick hanging on his lips.
“Can take the boy outta the country but can’t take the country outta the boy,” you chuckle as you gather your luggage and make your way off the bus
“Hey, y/n/n,” Jesse drawls, grabbing your luggage with ease and slinging his arm around you.
“Ugh, get off me you reek of axe and cigarettes,” you tease with a smile playing on your lips as Jesse ruffles your hair and throws your things into the back of his truck.
Jesse’s place was a lot nicer than you though, I guess being a welder does pay off. It was a little messy and could use a homey touch but it was rather nice but you would never admit that to him. Your room was nice too, a little small, but had a great view and even had access to the balcony. The room was bare, plain white walls with a red brick wall on one side, a bed and one singular lamp sitting in the middle of the room.
You settle in while Jesse rifles through your things and rants about his current situationship, “She’s just insane like who asks for your credit score on the first date? Don’t get me wrong, my credit score is so good that it would make ANY girls parties drop.”
You scrunch your nose and throw a hoodie at him as he continues “Hey, I’m just say—“ he begins before hes abruptly interrupted by a call, “Yeah?.. right now?… Alright, alright, alright… on my way, doll.”
“Hmmm, I wonder who that could be,” sarcasm practically oozes off your words.
“It’s Dina,” Jesse winks as he rushes to put his boots on, “Don’t expect me to come back tonight,” he winks.
“Oh, come on,” you trail after him, “It’s my first night! Can’t you stay? We can, like, get dinner and maybe go to a bar?”
‘Nah, I’d rather get laid than hang out with my dorky little cousin,” He says, the door cutting off his voice.
Asshole.
And that’s how you find yourself all alone, sitting at a bar and cheering on the local bands when two girls sit next to you. The girl with short hair remarks, “Those guys were so ass, ‘The Serpahites?’ What the fuck kinda name is that,” her friend laugh at her joke.
“Sounds like a cult,” you mutter under your breath, not meaning for them to hear you but the girl with auburn hair laughs, “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop—“ you begin but are quickly interrupted by the girl resting a hand on your shoulder.
“It’s okay, dude,” a soft smile on her lips.
Fuck, she’s so cute. The way the dim bar lights dance over her facial features and the way her short hair falls softly over her green eyes. She was wearing a flannel but you could tell she had one hell of a body.
“Sorry,” you say again.
“It’s all good,” she smirks, crap, did she notice the way you were staring?
As you’re debating on whether or not you should call it a night or get on your knees and start apologizing profusely for ever thinking lewd thoughts in the presence of an angel, she gets up, grabbing her friends hand and heads into the back.
Crap, I should’ve asked for her number..
Just as you take another sip from the fruity drink you ordered, you hear the announcer introduce another band called “the Infected.” Sounds pretty cool, you think as you get up from your seat and make your way into the crowd of people.
Must be a popular band.
The curtains are pulled back to reveal the girl you met at the bar earlier, she’s taken off her flannel and is now wearing a form fitting black tank top, low rise jeans, and a pair of worn converse, on her shoulder rests a beautiful black guitar littered with stickers of stars and planets, cute. Along side her is a girl with piercings, long black hair, looks like the lead singer, and oh. my. god. IS THAT JESSE?? He’s no longer wearing a flannel but a plain black tee, denim jeans, and of course, his boots, he’s on drums.
“Jesse!” you cheer as his head whips around and shoots daggers at you, you’ll never let him live this down.
The band plays a wonderful set and gets a lot of cheers from the crowd. Some fans, mostly girls, approach the band afterwards to gush over them, the girl with the auburn hair seems to have the most fans.
You make your way towards the stage to find Jesse, hoping to tease him about what you just witnessed.
“He’s in the back changing,” a voice rasps from behind. “Ah, I see,” turning around, you see the bassist towering over you.
“Heyyy, I know you, we met at the bar, yeah?” She says while looking you up and down.
“Yeah, at the bar,” you manage to get out.
“You’re Jesse’s cousin? Huh, didn’t know you were coming out tonight, if I had known, I would’ve put on a better show,” she smirks as a light blush sweeps over your face. How could such a small comment illicit this small reaction from you? Maybe it was the way she said it, her voice raspy from singing on backup.
“That show was really great, I enjoyed it a lot. Seems like y’all are popular,” you glance over at a small crowd of girls shooting glares in your direction for talking to their bassist.
The auburnette chuckles and glances back, winking at the girls, “Yeah, we got a few.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes at the faux humility, unfortunately, she catches this.
“What was that?” She laughs, studying your face.
“I can tell already, you’re such a cliche, right? I bet you sleep with all your little fangirls, give them the night of their lives then leave them in the dust, right? Just so you can feed your ego and make yourself feel better for whatever attachment issues you got going on.”
She looks awestricken. You knew her type all too well, I mean you were in a band and you’ve encountered A LOT of band mates are like that. Hell, even rock’s beloved dad, Dave Grohl, did something similar.
“Touché,” she smirks and leans up against the stage, her green eyes hungrily taking you in, “You’re interesting, let me buy you a drink.”
About half an hour later, you’re in the back of her van, panting with her lips on your neck and her knee pressing up against your aching cunt. She’s whispering sweet things into your ear which causes your hips to involuntarily buck up against her hand.
“So fuckin’ needy f’me, aren’t ya?” She mumbles against your neck, “All that talk just for you to melt into my touch,” you can feel her smirking against your neck.
“Shut up,” you say, barely getting it out through desperate whimpers and pants.
The next morning, you wake up in her apartment, alone and half naked, only wearing your panties and a shirt you didn’t recognize. You groan as you stumble out of bed, this hangover might actually be the death of you. You make your way over to the kitchen for some water only to find a sticky note next to some tylenol and water, it reads ‘Don’t forget to lock the door on your way out.’
What the actual fuck. Not even a good morning or at least a hi?
You crumple up the note, leaving it on the counter to hopefully get the message across.
“Typical bassist,” you mutter before leaving.
Later that evening, you facetime your friend, Lila.
“So… she basically told you to get out? What the fuck! You should’ve totally wrecked everything, stolen her shampoos, bleach wash her clothes, pour glitter all ov—“
Laughing you say, “Okay, okay, Lils, I get it but seriously? Glitter is going a little too far.”
“Not far enough, I’d say,” she mutters, “So…. was it good, at least?
“Good? It was total ecstasy but I mean, that’s to be expected.”
Lila cocks her head to the side, obviously confused, “Wha?”
“She’s in a band, meaning, she obviously has a lot of experience.”
“SHE’S IN A BAND???????” Lila’s eyes are practically bulging out of her head, “Wait, nah, girl, this is all on you. Rule number one, never sleep with a girl in a band, they will totally ruin your life. They’re good at giving head because they have to hide how evil they are somehow.”
You groan, “Ugh, I know., I know!” but your mind goes back to last night, the sight of her between your legs, the feeling of her hot breath against your ear, the sight of her on top with your legs draped over her shoulders, the way—
Fuck.
(A/n: This is my first fic since I was like 16 so be nice lol next one will be better, I promise, I just really suck at writing intros)
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kaleidohscopic · 6 days ago
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TRY AGAIN — JJH
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PAIRING: jaehyun x female reader SUMMARY: if you could have it your way, you'd never have to see, hear, or even think about jeong jaehyun ever again. a fortuitous blind date, and that same dimpled smile after all those years, is somehow enough to make you reconsider. maybe he was always meant to be by your side. GENRE: exes to lovers! au, slight coworkers! au, romance, angst, slow burn, humour, some pining, a touch of smut WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, too many descriptions of coffee and wine, mentions of sex, general mature content and themes, reader is not good at talking about her feelings, joy x doyoung, i try to write about the complexity of relationships and personal growth (i fail miserably) WORD COUNT: 32.4k NOTE: oh. my god. it's finally here! there's certainly something different about writing for your ult. office scenes inspired by the internship i did at a big 4 firm that ended up rejecting everyone from my department (yes i'm still bitter). i actually wanted to get this out back in august to celebrate jolo but alas, Life. i guess this is a parting gift? (jaehyun i am nothing and nobody without you.) i poured a lot of heart into this fic and posting it feels like letting my child go out into the world alone... be safe my darling xx
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You should’ve brought an umbrella. 
The early evening sky was darkening faster than usual, ominous grey clouds hovering between the skyscrapers like an unspoken but imminent threat. Though the ground was still dry, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be for long. Your haste to leave your apartment this morning had robbed you of the good sense to check the weather forecast, mind too preoccupied with tonight’s agenda to spare a thought for the possible torrential downpour that summer seemed to be so fond of. 
A glance down at your feet sent a twinge of annoyance through you. Of course you picked the black pumps to wear today. They were pretty, which was why you had slipped them on in the first place, wanting to make a good impression even if you told yourself you didn’t really care that much, but they were also expensive, and you did not want to get them wet. You said a silent prayer. Hopefully the impending rain would be kind to the leather.
“You better not be flaking,” Joy warned, voice crackling through your phone speaker. “I don’t really care what he thinks of you for not showing up, but it’ll reflect badly on me, and I can’t have that.”
You suppressed a smile. Ever the drama queen.
“I am literally walking out of the station right now. The Italian place, right?” you asked, pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs to gather your surroundings. The restaurant she had picked out wasn’t exactly an unknown location to you, but it had been a while since you last visited, and the buildings seemed to look back at you with a dazed unfamiliarity.
She gave an affirmative hum. “Two streets down from the exit. The reservation is under my name, but I think he might be there already.”
“Yippee. How exciting.”
There was a loud sigh from the other end of the line, and you could almost hear her rolling her eyes at you. “You do know I set this up with your best interests at heart, right?”
“Are you sure it’s not because you were bored and needed to use some poor soul for your own entertainment?”
“Hey, I’m not the one who put three packets of salt in Jungwoo’s coffee,” she fired back. 
Okay, maybe that one was on you. But it had been pretty funny seeing him spit it out all over the office kitchen counter and then meticulously clean up the mess with paper towels, all the while eyeing everyone on your floor with suspicion.
“I’m just saying,” she continued, “give him a chance. I think you guys could really like each other.” There was a pause. “Plus, he’s super fucking hot. Like if I wasn’t happily taken I would be climbing him like a tree.”
“Gross. I’m filing a complaint with HR.”
“Reporting me to my own department? I’ll make sure that file never even makes it through the portal,” she cackled at your empty threat, and you joined in with her. “Seriously though, just give him a chance. At least stay until the mains come out.”
“Fine,” you acquiesced, though you made sure she heard the huff that accompanied it. “But if he starts talking about cryptocurrency I am leaving.” 
Joy only laughed, assuring you he probably wouldn’t, and bid you goodbye with a parting command for you to enjoy yourself. 
On days like these, you couldn’t decide whether you were grateful or unlucky to have been placed on a team with her for your first project at the company. Technically speaking, Joy was your senior by almost two years, but even at that first daily stand-up half a year ago, filled with nervous smiles and clumsy introductions, you had the feeling the two of you would gel. By the time that first project wrapped up, the two of you had long progressed past mere co-workers, having bonded over 8-hour days of Powerpoint formatting and your mutual dislike of olives. You had never been more thankful for someone so vivacious to show you the ropes, and help you settle into the new environment with such ease.
However, Joy was a meddler.
Her meddling was what had you currently navigating the crumbly asphalt in your nicest shoes to meet the apparent hunk she had set you up with. You didn’t know much about the guy since she refused to give you his name, afraid you’d search him up on social media and then make up some excuse to back out once you had seen his face — like you had done with the previous two that she’d picked out for you.
Apparently, this one was from the Digital department, and had been at the company for a little over a year. Those were two out of the three pieces of information that she had deigned to bestow upon you, the third being that he had dimples, which she thought you’d appreciate.
Oh, and now the fourth one being that he was ‘super fucking hot’.
Who knew? Maybe you would enjoy yourself. Getting back into the dating scene was pretty low on your priorities, with your career and trying to stick to a consistent gym routine taking up the majority of your time, but you were never opposed to a bit of fun. 
Maybe Mr Super-Fucking-Hot could be a bit of fun. 
Just take it easy, you thought to yourself, spotting the glass windows of the restaurant as you rounded the corner. Il Giardino, read the sign that hung above the door. Cute.
Hastily, you shifted your bag and cardigan to the other arm and smoothed out the creases in your black trousers. You had tried for something a little dressy, but also office-appropriate since you were coming straight from work, and not like you had tried too hard and spent an unnecessary number of hours thinking about what to wear on this stupid blind date. Another quick glance at your reflection in the window, just to make sure there was no food or lipstick in your teeth, and you pushed past the door.
Soft jazz filtered through your ears as you stepped inside. The restaurant was nicely decorated, a few vintage Italian posters hanging on the exposed brick walls, and an overall rustic feel that paired well with the warm, earthy ambience. Judging by the patrons already seated, this place was a popular date night location, with all but one table occupied by couples sharing soft touches and flirty smiles over half-filled glasses of red wine.
Joy certainly knew how to pick a spot.
You gave the smiling hostess Joy’s name for the reservation, managing a weak smile of your own when she informed you that the other half of your party had already arrived, and followed her through the tables further into the restaurant. Outside, the first few raindrops had begun to splatter against the asphalt, slowly darkening the road with wet patches that were sure to grow into puddles. It seemed you had arrived just in time to escape the rain.
The hostess stopped at a more private table towards the back, and gestured towards the empty seat with that same welcoming smile. Mystery man, aka Mr Super-Fucking-Hot, was sat with his back to you, leafing through what you assumed to be the drinks menu. His silhouette from behind was alright-looking, you supposed, if you really had to put a label to it, but there was something vaguely familiar about the shape of his head. Perhaps you had crossed paths in the office lobby before?
You approached the table, trying to sneak a peek of him out of the corner of your eye, just to see if he lived up to Joy’s oh-so-generous description, without being so painfully obvious—
And froze.
“Is everything alright?” the hostess asked, still beaming at you. 
You barely heard her through the cotton wool that seemed to suddenly fill your ears, hands instantly clamming up as you took in the man in front of you. His warm eyes widened a fraction of a millimetre with recognition, quickly followed by something else you couldn’t place.
This was not happening.
“Is everything okay?” the hostess tried again. The corners of her mouth were beginning to slip, and she cast you a mildly concerned glance.
How strange you must have looked, standing stock-still beside your reserved table like a statue. The only things that could dispel the notion you had suddenly turned into stone were the light flush to your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your own heart that you were sure the whole restaurant could hear.
“Everything’s fine, just give us a minute please,” Jaehyun finally said, flashing the hostess a kind smile. She took her cue to leave, but not without another curious look between the two of you, hurriedly brushing away the waiter who was approaching the table and preparing to rattle off the specials. 
Hearing his voice seemed to break the spell that had rendered you so immobile. You straightened, shifting your bag higher up your shoulder, and turned to leave. Whatever this was, you were not entertaining it.
Chair legs screeched abruptly against the floor. 
“Wait,” he pleaded. 
Your eyes landed on his hand latched around your wrist first, before they moved to his face again. Slowly, his fingers loosened, but he kept you in his hold. 
“Will you sit, please?” he asked softly. 
You looked at him. Really looked at him, taking in his full, straight brows, the slope of his nose, the pinkness of his lips. His cheeks had slimmed since you had last seen him, allowing the sharpness of his jaw to really come through. Breathtakingly handsome as he always had been. A little older, a little more masculine, and yet somehow still the same.
And maybe because you still saw him, the boy that you loved, the first and likely only boy you had ever truly loved, you did sit, sliding into your chair like it was made of ice.
“It’s been a while,” he began, lowering back into his seat. You gave no indication that you had heard him at all, eyes focused on the flickering tealight candle at the centre of the table. The wax was a pinkish red colour, and the light scent coming from it was sweet, with a touch of tartness. Pomegranate, maybe. At your silence, he cleared his throat and tried again. “How have you—”
“Did you plan this?”
He pulled back a bit, as if in genuine shock. “No, I swear, I had no idea it was you. Joy only told me it was someone from her department, and that you were pretty, and she thought you’d be my type.” A pause. “Did you?”
Your reply was icy. “Why would I plan to see you?”
He looked away at that, sucking in a breath through his teeth. You were probably mistaken, but something akin to hurt flashed in those eyes as he gave a short nod at your words. Likely a trick of the light. It was a little too dim in here. What reason would he have to be hurt? Why would he be bleeding when you were the one with cuts all over your hands from picking up the glass shards of your own broken heart?
An uncomfortable beat passed. “Well, I’d say it was nice to see you, but you know I’m not good at lying,” you said. Shouldn’t have sat down in the first place.
Grabbing your bag and cardigan, you made to stand up again, regretting your decision to come here, regretting giving in to Joy so easily, regretting leaving the house this morning without a stupid fucking umbrella. The drizzle outside had turned into a downpour in no time, and the street drains were definitely going to clog up tonight. 
Seoul and its fucking summer monsoon season.
“Can we just—please, can you—fuck. Can we have dinner and just talk? As friends?” His hand shot out across the table, as if itching to grab yours again, but thought better of it, letting his fingertips rest against the edges of the linen napkin you hadn’t even bothered to unfold. 
A refraction of light from his sleeve caught your eye. His cufflinks. He was wearing the cufflinks you had gotten him for your high school graduation all those years ago. 
They had been expensive. Four months of pay from your part-time job at the ice-cream parlour was just enough for the pale pearls set in sterling silver. You supposed it would have been silly of him to throw them away when they were so valuable. It wasn’t like you had thrown away the gold pendant he had given you either. That necklace hadn’t hung around your neck for a long time, but it still sat somewhere in the depths of your jewellery box, underneath all the newer ones you had bought for yourself or received from friends over the years.
“Fine,” you found yourself saying. “Sure. As friends. Why not?” 
Sinking back into your seat, you reached for the wine menu immediately. Enduring the next hour in the company of your ex-boyfriend without a drink? Unbearable. As much as you liked to convince yourself you were over him, from your behaviour tonight it was clear you most certainly were not, and only alcohol could soothe that blow to your pride.
Your eyes flitted down the page of reds, then the whites, then the sparklings. Christ, the prices in this place were not pretty. Joy would have to be in a completely separate tax bracket from you if these were the kinds of establishments she frequented. 
For a brief moment, you thought about ordering the most expensive bottle on the list — a Penfold’s 2018 Shiraz — just to be spiteful, but decided against it. If you were really going to be sharing a meal ‘as friends’, he would not be footing the entire bill. You wouldn’t let him.
The waiter, under the impression that things had somewhat cooled down, finally approached your table, albeit a bit cautiously. Hearing but not really listening, you let him sing praises about the wild mushroom ravioli, ordering it just to save yourself the effort of reading through the rest of the menu. When he reached the beverages portion of his spiel, you settled for a more reasonable bottle, a 2021 merlot.
It was only once he had left to put your orders in that you realised that you had not even checked if Jaehyun was driving tonight.
“I’ll pay for the wine, if you’re not drinking,” you said, fiddling with your napkin. You could probably finish the whole bottle yourself anyway. Maybe that would make it easier to look him in the eye.
“You really don’t need to do that,” he replied, voice soft but firm. The weight of his eyes on you was almost a tangible thing. “I’ll have a glass.”
Your waiter returned, making a show of uncorking the bottle before pouring it out into both your glasses. You couldn’t down the first one fast enough, draining half the contents in one long mouthful like it was your first taste of water after finishing a marathon. Jaehyun was more deliberate with his glass, taking only a few small sips before he set it down on the table again. If he noticed the speed at which you emptied yours, which it was pretty hard not to with the way you were gulping the wine down, he said nothing.
God, this was fucking awkward.
“So,” he began, trying to mask the crack of his voice with a cough, “what made you agree to this thing?”
You reached for the bottle. “Felt like I owed it to Joy,” you said, pouring yourself another glass. “I flaked out of the last two she organised.” 
Maybe you should have just gone on that first one with Taehyung, or Taehyun, or whatever his name was. Then you could have avoided this situation altogether. 
“So you do this kind of thing a lot, then?” came his careful question.
You were curt. “No.” 
He blinked a few times, the movements slow with confusion at the abruptness of your answer. You knew you were being difficult. You wanted to be. Five years could heal most things, but unspoken words could linger like splinters under your fingernails, festering below the surface. Calluses had hardened over the splinters of your breakup, tough and protective, but now it was as if they were pushing through to the surface again, your fingers newly tender at the sight of him after all those years. 
A small part of you wanted to give him a taste of your hurt, wanted him to feel the prick of tiny wood chips in the flesh behind his nail beds. The larger part, however, knew malice would do no good for you. You had survived the pain. There was no reason to survive poison as well.
“No, I don’t,” you tried again, a little softer, a little less jagged around the edges. “I think she just likes to set them up for fun. This is my first time on one of these blind uh…” The word date sat heavy on the tip of your tongue but refused to budge. “One of these things.” Maybe another mouthful of wine would wash it down.
“Her definition of fun can be rather interesting,” he said, politely filling the silence.
You hummed in agreement, raising the freshly filled wine glass to your mouth again as you scrambled around in your head for something, anything to say. It had been a while since you had last been out on the dating scene, and you were well aware of it, but good grief, it was like your conversational skills had evaporated into thin air.
“How do you know Joy?” was what you decided on after a deliberately slow sip.
Thankfully, Jaehyun seemed to still know how to carry a conversation. “She’s one of the HR reps for Digital, so we’ve spoken a few times before. And her boyfriend is a friend from university.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “Have you met him?”
You shook your head lightly. “No, not yet. Hoping to, soon.” 
“You’ll like him. Doyoung’s a great guy. Patience of a saint.”
“He’d have to be to keep up with her,” you said, hints of a chuckle sprinkled in your voice. 
Something about the fact that he was already privy to more of Joy’s personal life than you were had a sliver of jealousy wriggling in your stomach. She was supposed to be your friend, and yet you knew very little about Doyoung besides his name, while your ex-boyfriend across from you had been buddy-buddy with him for probably years and years. Not that it was a competition to see who held more information about their coworker outside the office, but the feeling that you were somewhat losing didn’t sit well.
“It’s actually my first time on a blind date as well,” he said, allowing himself a tentative smile. “You know how convincing she can be. I mean, I don’t think I’d ever go on one if she hadn’t roped me in. It feels a bit silly meeting up with a complete stranger, you know?” He turned his smile to you, still tentative but coloured with a tinge of hopefulness, like he wanted you to understand, like he knew you would. 
How could you not? There had once been a time where you believed that you and Jaehyun had been two halves of the same soul, carved into existence from the same stone. There had once been a time where you knew him almost better than he knew himself. 
A time rather distant from now.
You kept your answer non-committal. “Sure,” you murmured, wishing his pretty face wouldn’t fall so quickly at your nonchalance, wishing you hadn’t caught the slightest droop to the curve of his mouth. Everything about him was still too familiar. “I’m just a bit surprised to hear that, I guess. You were so desperate to meet new people back then.”
Three seconds passed in silence. 
His eyes dropped to his lap, as did yours to your own. This previously reasonable bottle of merlot was loosening your lips rather unreasonably.
“Sorry, that was—” Unnecessary? Mean? 
True? 
“I didn’t mean to say that,” you finally managed, the words spilling out of your mouth in a tumbled rush. 
Or maybe you had. 
Jaehyun could only flash you a weak smile. “It’s fine,” he said, though you both knew it wasn’t really.
Frigidity returned to the air between you, stopped just short of freezing over by the reappearance of your waiter, along with a plate of goat’s cheese arancini. Jaehyun politely gestured for you to eat first, watching as you speared the crusty surface with your fork and moved it over to your own plate. For a few seconds, the only noises that could be heard from the table were the clinks and clanks of stainless steel utensils against ceramic plates. The arancini could not have come at a better time, affording both of you the opportunity to hide behind the guise of eating, and put off the need to make strained conversation, even if the time it bought you was fleeting.
Meet new people. Those were the exact words he had said to you all those years ago. Han River on a Tuesday night, cherry blossom petals fluttering through the balmy April air, the iciness of winter finally melting away into a distant memory to reveal fresh green carpets and vivid blooms — few things could have been more romantic. Spring is the season of love, they said. 
But for you, spring was the season of loss. It was the season when love ended, when love could be taken back and snatched away in the blink of an eye. On a Tuesday night in April, you learned that your love was not just not enough, but that it was a burden, an obstacle between Jaehyun and living his life to the fullest. That time spent with you was time squandered. That you were robbing him of the complete university experience, and to an extent, his youth.
Jaehyun had always been a wanter. He wanted boldly and he wanted freely, never dwelling too long on how his wanting could appear in the eyes of others, never shy about his desires. When he was ten years old, he wanted a dog, despite the reddening of his nose and the watering of his eyes whenever he’d get within arm’s distance of the bichon frisé. In tenth grade, he wanted you, with cans of peach soda and sweet little notes in your locker until you finally said yes to being his girlfriend after three days of public pursuit. 
(You had arguably wanted him more, and for longer, though nobody had been none the wiser — you were rather good at hiding your feelings.)
Two months into your first year at university, his wants changed. He wanted more space and more freedom to meet new people. He wanted to be able to attend club social outings, and get to know his seniors, and play drinking games with his new roommates, instead of trekking to the other side of Seoul every week to see you, his girlfriend, who had now become his obligation.
It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed a shift in his behaviour in the months leading up to that fateful night. Smiles had become a little wearier. Texts had become sparser. You had chalked it up to the challenges of settling into the new routine and rigorous coursework, and the distance between your schools that occupied opposite sides of the city. Sure, the hour-long subway ride from his campus to yours wasn’t the greatest asset to your relationship, but 18-year-old you had remained optimistic it would endure whatever curveballs your first year of university and the beginnings of real adulthood would throw at you. 
You had survived the CSAT together and emerged in one piece. What else could be harder than that?
“You’re right though,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on his own piece of fried goat’s cheese. “I guess I was.”
You let your fork drop with a soft clang. “Let’s not, uh—we don’t have to talk about that.” Pink petals were swimming at the edges of your vision. 
Please, let’s not talk about that.
A flicker of something behind his eyes could almost convince you he wanted exactly the opposite of your unspoken plea. Maybe this was a conversation he didn’t actually want to avoid the way you so desperately did. 
And maybe he would have said something too, if not for the waiter who returned at that precise moment. 
“The mushroom ravioli,” the waiter announced, setting the plate down in front of you, “and the amatriciana spaghetti. Enjoy.” 
Four pieces of pasta covered in sage butter looked back up at you. 
You made a mental note to never order ravioli at an Italian restaurant ever again. 
The sound of scraping utensils returned to your table, lightly blanketing the stilted pause in conversation with idle noise. Without much enthusiasm, you sliced at one of the four pieces of your ravioli, throwing what you hoped were sneaky glances at the full plate of spaghetti sitting in an appetising red sauce laid out before your ex-boyfriend. 
“Do you want to try mine?”
Sneakiness had never been your forte.
Your polite refusal came quickly, even if it was rather weak to your own ears, but Jaehyun was already twirling a portion out onto the share plate the waiter had kindly provided a few minutes earlier. He made sure to scoop some sauce and pancetta bits on top as well, before gently pushing the plate towards you. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, though you made no move to dig in.
Everything wasn’t supposed to feel this familiar. You weren’t supposed to soften so easily at the sight of his dimpled smile. You weren’t supposed to feel that strange tug in your chest at his thoughtfulness, at the way he could still pick up the slightest change in your expression. And maybe the bar was too low, and here you were fawning over nothing more than the bare minimum, because what guy would see his date enviously looking at his food instead of her own and blatantly ignore it?
But with Jaehyun, it was different. You knew it was. Within every action, there was familiarity and practice, there was thought and care, there were years of history that were unerasable, even with the passage of time. You weren’t the same wide-eyed teenagers now as you had been then, and yet scenes from the rest of that excruciating first semester flickered in your mind. 
A silent breakdown during a business administration lecture. Your roommate’s concerned expression when you decided to skip dinner again.
The tug in your chest was leading you back into dangerous territory. 
For the third time tonight, you debated grabbing your things and walking straight out. You had only promised Joy that you would stay until the mains came out. If you were going to leave now, technically, you would still have fulfilled your end of the promise. Arguably, this wasn’t the best time to make an exit — fifteen minutes earlier would have been much better so that the kitchen would have time to cancel your stupid ravioli before they started preparing it. Leaving now wouldn’t be the most optimal, but it was still an option. A tad heavy on the dramatics, but you could live with that. You’d just never be able to step foot in this establishment again.
A shame. The spaghetti looked good. You’d have to search up if this place did delivery.
“You can go if you really want to, I won’t hold it against you,” Jaehyun said quietly. His eyes were fixed on the fork he was twirling through his dish. You supposed you should’ve been surprised at the way he could read your mind without even looking at you, but you couldn’t find the energy in you to pretend.
“But,” he continued at your silence, “if you’re willing to stay, I’d really like it if we could just catch up?” At this, he finally met your eyes and offered a small smile. “It has been a while, after all.”
Maybe it was the sincerity contained in those soft brown eyes. Maybe it was because you really did want to try the amatriciana spaghetti while it was hot and fresh off the stove. Whatever it was, you found yourself resolving to stay, despite all the reasons not to, despite the sound of them loud and clear in your head, ready at your disposal. Allowing yourself to indulge in nostalgia once in a while couldn’t be that bad for you. Right? 
So you stayed. And you ate (his spicy amatriciana scored a landslide victory over your mushroom ravioli). And you talked. As two friends would do, catching each other up on the things that had shaped your lives since you had gone on your separate ways. 
Conversation was clunky at first, that was to be expected. Even the closest of friendships would encounter some choppy waters when reconnecting for the first time after five years. But conversation with Jaehyun gave way to smooth sailing much quicker than you would have expected. He still wore the face of the boy who would sneak an extra serving of fried sweet potato from the cafeteria because he knew you liked them, but he wasn’t quite the same. Older, certainly. Maturity wasn’t something that went hand-in-hand with age like you had thought when you were younger, but he was more mature too. Surer of himself, and his place in the world.
You heard of the summer he spent in the UK after graduation, visiting his uncle and their family, appreciating classical architecture and the leisure inherent to rolling green hills that he hadn’t been able to find in the metropolis he had grown up in. (The food, however, was an entirely different story. He had never been so overjoyed to see a bowl of rice that wasn’t covered in mushy peas or sitting in a puddle of questionable-looking curry.)
He learned of your semester exchange in Amsterdam, including the unfortunate incident involving you, a runaway bicycle, and the freezing water of the Dutch canals. Fortunately, a nasty cold and two weeks in bed over the Christmas break were the worst things that came of it. Those few months had been eye-opening, to say the least. Stepping outside of your own bubble had made you realise how much more there was to the world, and how little you knew of it.
Yes, Jaehyun had changed, but then again so had you. The realisation dawned halfway through dessert, slowly settling over you as you spooned at the tiramisu in the centre of the table. Perhaps it hadn’t been fair to him that you had been harbouring this seed of antagonism towards him for all these years. He, so afflicted by youth, as you both had been back then, was only doing what he thought was right and necessary. Could you really fault him for that? You had seen enough of life now to know that sometimes, nobody was to blame.
There was a comfortable lull in the conversation before he spoke again. The sound of his voice drew you away from the window, where you could see that the rain had slowed from the earlier dramatic downpour to a lighter shower. 
“I know I probably wasn’t who you were expecting today,” he said, a little hesitant and gauging your expression.
“You definitely were not.” You gave him an amused half-smile over the rim of your barely-filled glass, which he returned. The bottle of merlot sat tall and empty on the table.
“I just wanted to say,” he began, taking in a breath, “I’m glad it was you. It was really nice to see you again. And I’m sorry if you were disappointed that it was me.” 
There was something sad in the curve of his mouth, you thought. It tempered the warmth in his eyes.
“I’m not disappointed,” you heard yourself say. “Really.”
It was the truth. You knew he could see it written across your face. Dishonesty and insincere flattery were not familiar weapons you wielded. He knew that. He knew you.
Jaehyun sat back, bringing his own glass to his lips and draining the lingering contents. Perhaps to hide the private smile that broke out across his handsome face, which you pretended not to see, turning your attention back to the raindrops pattering against the window. 
The evening air was cool on your bare arms when you stepped out, taking shelter under the awning in front of the restaurant. You weren’t the only one who had forgone a weather app consultation today. Jaehyun stood beside you, hands tucked neatly in the pockets of his slacks, a not unwelcome companion while you waited for your taxi to arrive. He’d call one later, after he made sure you had gotten in the car and were on the way home.
“I guess I’ll see you around?” he asked, tone light. 
You cast a sidelong glance at him. His profile was backlit by the warm light emanating from inside the restaurant, carving out the straight bridge of his nose, a soft shadow cupping the fullness of his bottom lip. Would there ever be a time the sight of him wouldn’t take your breath away?
“Maybe,” you breathed. Letting him back into your life wasn’t a decision you felt ready to make yet, and you had no intention of promising him anything you couldn’t be sure you’d be able to deliver. Even if you would only be promising him friendship.
He didn’t push it further and hummed in understanding. Then your taxi was pulling up in front of the restaurant, the splash from the tyres just missing the hem of your trousers, and you were bidding him goodbye, staring a second too long at the dimples that appeared, and trying not to step in a pothole puddle as you clambered rather ungracefully into the car. 
But because realisation was never punctual, it was only when you arrived home, carefully kicking off the black pumps and patting them dry with a microfibre cloth, that you realised two things. 
First, you had left your cardigan at the Italian restaurant.
And second, Jaehyun had footed the whole bill.
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There was a reason the seventh floor was your favourite floor in the building.
It wasn’t because of the little in-office cafe with the cute but ridiculously overpriced pastries that tasted even better than they looked, or the deceptively comfortable bean bag chairs by the far window that would always tempt you with a mid-afternoon nap every time you sank into one of them.
No. The seventh floor was your favourite because it had a Nespresso machine. Free use. Company-funded.
A seventh floor coffee was one of the only things that could get you to leave the comfort of your desk and willingly walk up two flights of stairs. (The elevators always took too long.) On Monday afternoons like these, after an entire morning swimming through attendance and sick leave reports from the last quarter, the promise of a smooth and velvety cappuccino felt like your only hope for humanity. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like everybody else had the same idea, if the line in front of the coffee machine was anything to judge by. 
“You should have told me!”
You gave Joy an incredulous look. “Right. Because I definitely knew exactly who he was.”
“Well, you could have worked it out. You’re a smart girl.”
“You said a total of three sentences about him.”
She paused, fixing you with a contemplative stare. Her eyebrows were doing that weird lifting thing when she was running something through her head. “Five sentences,” she finally managed, tapping around the rim of her empty mug. 
Why she came up with you at all when she wasn’t a coffee person, would probably take two sips of the espresso, and then complain it was too bitter, was beyond you. Sometimes you wondered if she was really that good at her job, or if her workload was just so non-existent that she could take five coffee breaks a day. It couldn’t be the latter, because you had seen that her calendar was full for the entire morning.
“Let’s not spend the next fifteen minutes talking about last Friday,” you sighed, already pushing thoughts of dimpled smiles and warm eyes to the far corner of your mind. Hopefully not to be revisited for a while. “I want my head outrageously blank while I enjoy this cappuccino. Swear to god Junmyeon is trying to drown me with those leave reports.”
“You know he only assigns them to you because you’ve never told him you hate doing it.”
“He assigns them to me because I’m the only one available who can get it done properly. You’re always blocked out, and Jungwoo has that weekly coaching session. Jisung tried to help me do it this morning, and he didn’t even separate paid from unpaid leave. The numbers looked like we were bleeding PTO.”
She gave you a sly smile. “You know you can block yourself out too,” she said off-handedly. 
“You can what?”
This was new information.
“You’re telling me someone else could be sifting through that 70-page file if I just schedule in a random meeting with myself?” you asked again, to which she nodded.
“Has yet to fail me. But make sure you name it something that makes sense, and don’t do it all the time, otherwise it’ll look suspicious.”
Corporate bullshitting was a fine art, and you were beginning to realise you were still but a novice at it. 
“And lay off the intern,” she added. “He’s just a child.” “He’s taller than Junmyeon.”
“A child in spirit, then. You know what I mean. He sort of reminds me of a cute little mouse,” she mused, trailing off. If her apartment complex didn’t have a pet ban, you had a feeling she would be taking in every stray animal off the street.
However, she was right. Jisung had been a bigger help than you had expected of a second-year commerce student. Even if it was just skimming through a finished presentation pack to fix up any typos and align text boxes, you couldn’t deny that having an extra pair of eyes and hands had made your life a little bit easier. Maybe you would even miss him once his summer placement came to an end and the semester rolled back around. As long as there weren’t too many more incidents like the one from this morning.
Speaking of this morning…
“Hey, does that mean you’ve been making yourself unavailable so you don’t have to read the—”
“Oh look! The line’s getting shorter. You should move up before someone cuts in.”
You shuffled forward, but not without throwing her a displeased look along with a grumble or two. Next time the quarterly attendance analysis rolled around, you were definitely making use of the trick she had just told you about. A quick glance up ahead. There were now three people in front of you in the line, but only one green capsule left on the rack. 
Please, caffeine gods be willing, let that last one be yours.  
“I can’t believe I told you that I thought your ex-boyfriend was super fucking hot. I feel so icky, like I’ve betrayed you somehow,” Joy said, making a face. The dimpled smile fought its way back into your consciousness, and you suppressed the twist in your stomach that seemed to accompany every recollection of it. 
“It’s honestly fine. There’s no way you could have known.” You shrugged, partly to reassure her it wasn’t a big deal, and partly to shake off that funny feeling in the pit of your stomach.
The better part of your weekend had been spent trying to make sense of the night, after battling a merlot-induced migraine for most of Saturday morning and early afternoon. Three glasses had been a necessity to get through dinner, but it was ultimately overkill. You were no longer the girl from two years ago who took advantage of her afternoon class the next day by destroying a few soju bottles with your roommates. On a weeknight, too.
Joy gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Still, I’m sorry I put you through that. Hopefully it wasn’t completely awful?”
Completely awful, it was not. Awful at some parts? Maybe. 
Truthfully, you hadn’t been prepared to see Jaehyun again. Not to say that you had never thought about it — you definitely had, running simulations through your head about how you would run into him on the street, ignore his greeting and walk past him like he didn’t even exist. But those were the musings of a heart-broken teenager, turning to spite and cheap endeavours at revenge to cope with the loss of her first love. Last Friday did have spite rearing its ugly head, but that spite was short-lived, and only one aspect that made up the whirlwind of emotions that came with seeing him again after all those years. 
“No, it wasn’t all bad,” you were about to say, when your eye was suddenly caught by a movement up ahead. 
A slender, veiny hand reached out to grab the last green pod from the coffee rack. You watched as the thief’s fingers closed around the capsule and slotted it into the machine. He pressed the lever down — because of course, it was a man. Not only was he on the better side of the gender wage gap, but he also had to be ahead of you in the caffeine race as well.
The sound of the capsule being punctured was the final blow. 
“My coffee,” you lamented under your breath.
“Have some patience,” Joy chided. “We’re nearly there. You’re like a zombie when you don’t have your little cup of bean juice.”
You shook your head glumly. “The last Peruvian. I waited for so long. It was supposed to be mine, and he took it.” 
“Who did?”
“The guy at the front.” 
Your eyes were still glued on the hand as it wrapped around the mug filled with your favourite blend, completely unaware that it had just robbed you of the only small pocket of joy you had been looking forward to all afternoon. Peering around the two people still ahead, your gaze travelled up his exposed forearm and the sleeve of the white dress shirt cuffed there. If only you could catch a glimpse of the face that had stomped all over your hopes and dreams… 
The lady in front of you shuffled closer to the coffee machine and finally cleared your line of sight. Coffee stealer’s ear came into view before his face did, and he was—
“Jaehyun?”
His name fell out of Joy’s mouth before you could even get your own to start working again and beg her not to call out to him. For a moment you were afraid you had conjured him out of thin air from the uninvited thoughts of him circling the outskirts of your mind. At least now you knew he wasn’t a hallucination.
Jaehyun’s eyebrows pinched in confusion first, then surprise, before finally smoothing over with recognition. He offered a small wave, eyes flitting from Joy over to you, and then he was walking over, and you were fighting for your life trying to mask the panic that was bubbling away inside your chest.
You shot Joy a frantic look. Why did you do that?
I don’t know! Sorry, said her returning one. The corners of her mouth were turned down in an apologetic frown, but she quickly schooled it into a smile at Jaehyun’s approach.
“I’ve never seen you on seven before,” Joy said, the spitting image of friendliness, nevermind that you were beside her and desperately looking for an exit out of the incoming conversation. “You’re always holed up somewhere on ten.”
You supposed you should have known this would happen sooner or later. Six months without running into each other when you worked at the same company, in the same building, was the exception, not the rule. You were just grateful Joy didn’t try to bring up her clever little dinner setup that had been plaguing you the entire weekend, or try and rope the two of you into awkward and unnecessary introductions.
“Someone told me I should come down and try the Nespresso machine. Apparently it’s really good,” he said, gesturing at the mug you had been staring at for the past three minutes.
“It is,” were the first two words you managed. Both pairs of eyes shifted towards you, waiting for the rest of your comment to come, but you could only disappoint, the syllables hanging thick and dumb in the air. 
There appeared to be some sort of blockage in your mouth-to-brain pipeline.
Joy cleared her throat lightly, throwing you a sideways glance. “Which one did you try? They all taste the same to me, but she only drinks the green ones,” she said, ignoring the panicked twitch of your mouth. She knew full well that he was the one you’d been staring daggers into ever since he grabbed that stupid capsule. Your stupid capsule.
Jaehyun’s eyes flicked between your face and the steaming drink in his hand a few times.
“Do you want mine? I think I might have taken the last green one.” He offered the mug to you. “I didn’t really know what to press, so it’s just a cappuccino. Regular milk. I haven’t had any yet.”
“It’s fine, you should have yours. I’ll get another one,” you politely declined. No matter how much you liked the Peruvian blend, it was not worth the charity from your ex-boyfriend. Even if it was the only thing that could get you through the rest of the afternoon. Even if he was holding the exact thing that you had been planning on getting. 
Hopefully the kitchen staff would restock those capsules by tomorrow.
The look he gave you was not a convinced one, but he didn’t push further. With your dismissal of his offer, the three of you lapsed into a sticky silence. Even Joy, who was so adept at making topics of conversation out of nothing, had little to add, passing up the challenge of pulling meaningful sentences out of your mouth. The stifling tension between you and Jaehyun must have been more powerful than you thought. 
“Shoot, I think I’m getting a Teams call,” Joy suddenly said, making a show of pulling her phone out and tapping the screen. 
Liar. She didn’t even have the app notifications turned on. 
“I should probably take this, but I’ll see the both of you later.” She flashed a contrite smile, and then she was off, almost speed-walking her way down the stairs you had come up together, all the while pressing her phone to her ear with a little too much urgency for a mid-afternoon cold call. By the look on Jaehyun’s face, he hadn’t been all that impressed by her impromptu theatrics either.
“Are you still in the line?”
“Sorry, yes,” you muttered at the woman behind you. Clearly, you were not the only one impatient for their caffeine fix. 
Finally, you were at the counter. You stared blankly at the rack of capsules. The empty space where the green ones were usually stored was glaringly obvious, jumping out at you while you skimmed through the other blends for a passable alternative. After many more seconds than would have been necessary to pick one flavour out of the remaining three, your fingers closed around a gold one. It would have to do for today. 
Jaehyun watched as you dropped the capsule into its slot and made your selections. Why he was still here with you was somewhat of a mystery. You would’ve thought that Joy’s hasty exit would have prompted him to do the same, saving the both of you from having to make bumbling small talk about the weather, or the weekend, or whatever else that two people working at the same company, with no other relational history, could talk about to fill in the silence.
Maybe he wanted to talk about the dinner bill. The fact that he had settled it, without you even noticing, had been weighing on your mind. It was less of a money thing — though you were pretty sure the total hadn’t been a modest number — than a pride thing. Being indebted to others always left a smear on your conscience. 
Being indebted to your ex-boyfriend was like someone had shit all over it.
Whatever. If he didn’t bring it up first, you would. This was the 21st century. You were both financially independent adults. Splitting the bill on a first date didn’t have to be such a contentious thing. 
Although technically, it was far from your first. And it wasn’t a date either, because you had refused to label it as such in your head.
The last few drops of milk and espresso trickled into the mug, before the machine stopped whirring altogether. You knew he was still there. You could feel his presence behind you. He had probably been waiting for the noise to stop so that you’d be able to hear him speak. Taking your mug off the stand, you turned to face him. 
“Your cardigan,” he said.
“Huh?”
Confusion splashed over you. You weren’t even wearing one today.
“I have your cardigan,” he amended. “From Friday. You left it inside the restaurant. One of the waiters brought it out, but you had left already, so I took it with me.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I have it now, if you want it back.”
“You do?” 
“I mean, it’s at my desk. I brought it in today,” he added quickly, seeing the way you were looking about his person like you were expecting it to materialise into his hands.
You blinked a few times, trying to clear the brain fog that had decided now was the perfect time to strike. “Yes, I—thank you, um, for that. I can take it off you…?” 
Had you meant to have it sound so much like a question? It seemed like your capacity for human speech was always afflicted by some sort of malfunction in his presence.
“Okay, uh, do you want to come up to my desk? I’ve got it there.”
The elevator ride up to the tenth floor was a short one. You could have taken the stairs just to get the extra steps in, but with both of you holding uncovered drinks, three flights of stairs combined with your clumsy fingers were a slip hazard just waiting to happen. Still, despite the short journey, the seconds inside the elevator seemed to drag on for much longer.
Before you could lose your nerve, you opened your mouth to crack the silence. 
“Let me pay you back for dinner.” 
Good. It sounded good. Firm, but not overbearing. Hell yeah, you were getting the hang of this conversation-with-your-ex-boyfriend thing. 
Jaehyun seemed a bit taken aback by that, turning to you slightly with surprise woven into the crease of his brow. “You really don’t need to do that,” he said after a beat.
The elevator dinged, and he stepped out through the sliding doors before you could form a coherent response. It took a second for you to follow, the coffee inside your mug almost making a dangerous appearance all over the elevator floor as you caught up with his strides. 
“Think of it as me taking care of a junior colleague. I am your senior, you know,” he said over his shoulder, a smile gracing his features at the latter part.
“Only by half a year,” you grumbled. “That doesn’t even count.” The light shake of his broad shoulders let you know he had heard your gripes over his attempts at enforcing seniority. His accompanying laugh was a soft one. You barely caught it above the noise of the tenth floor office.
The mellowed cosiness of the fifth floor HR department was hard to be found here. You were used to some chatter, with the occasional high-pitched laugh from Joy punctuating the air. On days he was feeling particularly jovial, Junmyeon could be heard humming from whichever desk he had decided to park at for the day (such was the beauty of hot-desking and hotelling). The few occasions you shared a table with him had allowed you to recognise the melody of The Beatles’ Strawberry Fields Forever — always the same song, and he hummed everything except for the words ‘strawberry fields’, which he insisted on singing, albeit softly.
Nothing about Digital was soft or cosy. Except maybe the sofa in one of the open creative spaces. The floor buzzed with activity, from the influx of incoming call ringtones to agenda-packed meetings in conference rooms. A group of people were clustered around a floor-to-ceiling whiteboard covered in diagrams that were undecipherable to you, engaged in animated conversation while pointing at various parts of the board. Some of them greeted Jaehyun as he walked past with you in tow.
“I had no idea Digital was this busy,” you mused out loud, following him as he weaved through the desks.
He chuckled lightly. “We like to talk a lot. And some of us can get a bit loud,” he said. The joking undercurrent to his voice had you thinking that the second part was said with someone in mind. “But it’s more hectic than usual. We’ve just won a really big bid and Johnny’s excited about his first time leading one of the streams.” He paused to wave and give a thumbs-up at the man standing at the very front of the whiteboard group (you assumed this was Johnny), who returned the greetings with just as much enthusiasm. 
Jaehyun had always been a people person. That was one thing that would likely never change.
The two of you arrived at his desk, a quieter one next to the windows offering an almost unobstructed view of the city. He dug around his workspace, pulling out a Jo Malone gift bag. 
“Ignore the bag,” he said, catching your wary expression. “I didn’t want to stuff it in my duffel with the rest of my gym stuff.” 
You took it from his outstretched hand, with a quick glance to check that it was in fact your cardigan. The ribbed black fabric sat inside, folded neatly over itself. 
“It got rained on quite a bit, so I washed it. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course, that’s kind of you, Jaehyun. You didn’t have to.” For a moment, you wondered if he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent. The smell of it used to cling to his school uniform, a burst of freshness you always sought during the muggy summer days.
“Thank you,” you said, giving him a grateful smile. “I thought I lost it for good.” In your mind, you had already made peace with the fact that you would probably see the thing ever again. Yet all weekend, it had been taking up space in Jaehyun’s hamper, uncertain as to when it would finally be able to reunite with your closet.
You gave him a careful look. 
“Did you plan on seeing me today?” you asked. 
“No. Yes. I mean—” The tips of his ears took on the faintest hint of a pink flush. “I didn’t know if I would run into you, so I’m glad I did. But otherwise, I was just going to give it to Joy and get her to pass it along to you,” he trailed off, gaze shifting sideways to the cityscape posted on the other side of the glass windows. 
Neither of you had bothered with exchanging contact details after dinner, an oversight that was more deliberate than not on your part. His re-entry into your life was something you hadn’t felt quite ready for. And yet—
“Do you want my number?”
Stupid mouth. The words were out before you even registered that you had spoken. You prayed he wouldn’t pick up on the unintended suggestion of the question, though judging by the quick raise of his left eyebrow, you weren’t the only one who realised the other possible interpretations of your words. 
“I mean, just in case something like this happens again. So you can contact me directly,” you added quickly. Heat slowly crept its way up to your cheeks. You hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“Sure,” he said, lips curling into a smile. “If that’s okay with you.” 
Considering you were the one who had said it out loud in the first place, it would have been strange if you suddenly decided it was not okay with you.
There was some fumbling with each other’s phones, before you were typing your number to add into his contacts, and he was doing the same to yours. Would he realise yours was still the same string of digits as it had been five years ago?
“Well, I’d better get going,” you said, handing back his phone. Now was as good a time to make an easy exit as any. You had planned on gossiping with Joy in the level seven kitchen for the rest of the hour, but back to your desk appeared to be the more likely destination this afternoon. 70-page files didn’t read themselves. “Thanks for the cardigan. I’ll see you later, then?”
Jaehyun looked like he had more to say, but you were already turning around, ready to leave the hubbub of the tenth floor. Ready to leave the presence of your ex-boyfriend-turned-friend? Acquaintance? You shook your head lightly. A drink was needed to unpack that box of worms.
A call of your name had you pausing mid-step.
“Your coffee,” Jaehyun said, tapping you on the shoulder to hand you your mug. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking it from his grasp. You hadn’t even bothered to take a sip of the non-Peruvian cappuccino, the surface still untouched. It was probably cold now. Maybe you’d pass it off to Jungwoo, this time sans the salt.
“You know, if the dinner bill thing bothers you that much, you can just make it up to me later.”
You blinked at him a few times. “Make it up to you how?”
“Ah, that’s for me to decide,” he replied, a boyish glint to his smiling eyes. Both his dimples popped out, and you found yourself unable to choose which one to focus on. 
Then he was moving, and you were left staring at the broad expanse of his back as he walked away. Head full of thoughts wondering what the hell kind of favour he would now hold over your head, you almost walked straight into Jungwoo as you came out of the elevator.
“Hey, I got a Nespresso from seven. You want it?” you asked, offering him the coffee you stopped yourself from spilling all over him. He eyed the mug apprehensively.
“You put salt in it again, didn’t you?”
“No? Where did you even get that from? Hang on, how do you know it was me?”
Jungwoo sucked in a breath through his teeth. “So it was you! I knew it! You know, you really are a scary woman,” he grumbled. “Who ever would have thought an evil spirit lurked behind such a kind face?”
“So that’s a no to the coffee?”
“I don’t trust you anymore, so no.”
“Suit yourself,” you shrugged, making your way back to your desk. The attendance reports stared back at you as you logged into the monitor, drawing a sigh out of you. You took a sip of the coffee.
And frowned.
You brought the mug to your mouth again. Like the first sip, the second was also lukewarm. But like the first sip, the second also tasted exactly the same as your usual Peruvian blend. Maybe there really was no difference between all the different coloured capsules, you thought, skimming through page 33 of the file.
That thing about realisation never being on time? Still true.
On the subway ride home, gripping the handle with all your might while sandwiched between two middle-aged men in stuffy suits, it dawned on you.
Jaehyun had given you his coffee instead.
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“Thanks everyone for dialling in today. We’ll chat soon.”
The screen reverted back to its default background as the call ended, and you let out a sound somewhere in between a groan and a whimper. Junmyeon did not look to be faring any better, head in his hands while his elbows rested on the meeting room table.
“Can somebody please tell Jackson and the rest of the Marketing heads that Summer Fridays doesn’t mean they can just take Fridays completely off?” he groaned, the sounds escaping through the gaps in his fingers. “Our absenteeism looks like it’s at an all time high. Nayeon, you’re friendly with him, aren’t you?”
The girl pressed at her temples. “I mean, we were in the same advertising and PR club back in university, if that counts for anything. But yeah, I’ll schedule some time with him and go over it.”
“Great, thank you,” Junmyeon sighed, throwing his head back. “Alright, I’ll send around a debrief email later this afternoon. Thanks everyone for your time.”
You didn’t have to be told twice. A second later and you were out of the eighth floor Marketing meeting room, already on your way to the Nespresso machine downstairs. Another coffee at 4pm was slightly pushing it, but you needed a pick-me-up urgently to wash away the gruelling two hours spent going through company policy with Marketing.
The buzz of your phone was a momentary distraction from your mission. 
It was a message from Jaehyun. Something silly in response to a text you had sent earlier in the day. 
jaehyun [04:07 pm]: in dire need of a fake mango right now jaehyun [04:07 pm]: mmm fake mango milkshake
The smile that crept up onto your face was almost like a reflex in the way it couldn’t be helped.
Now that you were acquainted again, it was like you saw him everywhere. How you had managed to completely avoid each other for the last half a year or so was a fascinating mystery. Some mornings you’d run into him in the building lobby. He’d hold the elevator doors open for you, and you’d exchange pleasantries on the ride up to the fifth floor, where you’d get off and bid him goodbye, or see you later. And see him later you did. Whether it was at the seventh floor coffee machine, or in line at the cafeteria on twelve, the sight of his face had become a nice interruption to the hours spent at a monitor, or in a call like the one you had just escaped.
He would come down to the fifth floor sometimes, stopping by Joy’s desk or yours to say hello and have a chat if you weren’t busy. You found yourself wishing he would spend less time with Joy than he did with you — not because you wanted to see him more (because that was absolutely not the reason at all), but because he was steadily gaining a lead over you in the Joy friendship competition. The three of you had spent a few lunch breaks at the cafeteria together, granted that your schedules matched, with an odd appearance from Jungwoo every now and again.
You saw more of Johnny (loud) and Mark (louder), Jaehyun’s friends from Digital who you’d normally hear before you’d see them. Johnny was his “beloved coffee mate” (Jaehyun’s exact words) and possibly the only other person in the building who cared about the green Peruvian capsules as much as you did. Mark was… Mark, for lack of a better description. There was nobody the boy couldn’t strike a conversation with. If he really needed to, you suspected he could probably get along with a wet paper towel. 
You had been offered an invitation to join the three of them for one of their weekly lunches outside the company building. Johnny was more than happy to let you know he was somewhat of an expert at finding the hottest eats in the area, having put half his floor onto the cold noodle place he had sought out at the start of the month. And laugh as you had when he proudly told you about it, Johnny’s influence was no joke. News of the restaurant had somehow trickled its way down to HR, with Junmyeon just the other day asking around the team if anyone had tried the place before. 
Perhaps you’d join them next week. It was always nice to be ahead of the trend. 
You arrived at the seventh floor kitchen and sighed. The rack was out of green capsules again. Although, maybe that was to be expected. It was nearing the end of the day, and the gold capsules were finished too. So much for a 4pm pick-me-up, you thought, though it might have been for the better — too much caffeine in one day always made you a bit antsy and had your resting heart rate up in the high 80s. 
With empty hands and a pout on your lips, you made your way back to the fifth floor. 
Joy’s eyes were glued to her screen when you walked past her. “Jaehyun stopped by while you were in that Marketing call,” she said without looking at you, squinting at a spreadsheet. 
“Did he?” you replied, trying your best at nonchalance despite the little flip of your stomach. 
“Are you talking about her handsome friend from Digital?” Jungwoo peered around the table with a playful grin on his face. 
You were back on good terms now, thanks to your promise to pay for his lunch from the cafeteria for a whole week to make up for the coffee incident. The look in his eyes right now had you thinking life was better that week where he had been afraid of you.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Joy said distractedly in between clicks of her keyboard. “Jisung, can you just double check these numbers for me? I’m in the second tab of the Excel file.” 
The intern was quick to comply. You had a feeling she was his favourite senior. 
“Anyways, I think he left you something.”
You made your way over to your desk, ignoring Jungwoo’s oohs and ahs. Sure enough, there was something sitting next to your diary and the three empty glasses you hadn’t had the chance to rinse out yet.
It was a coffee capsule. Specifically, it was a green coffee capsule. 
There was a sticky note stuck to the back of it, which you turned around to read. His handwriting was still identical to that of the silly little notes he used to leave in the margins of your home economics workbook. 
saved this last one from johnny’s clutches. enjoy ^.^
Despite the jitters from the end-of-day caffeine fix, you smiled the whole way home.
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“I’ve found a way you can make it up to me.”
You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the screen. 9:34 am. The Saturday morning still had you in its clutches, and it took a few seconds to process the sounds you were hearing. 
“Who is this?” you croaked, sleep lacing your voice. 
“It’s Jaehyun.” 
You sat up a little straighter against the pillows. “Jaehyun?” you echoed. 
“Yes, it’s me. Do you not check the caller ID before you answer?”
You grumbled something about it being too early on the weekend to have your head screwed on properly, to which he laughed, a vivid sound even through the phone. 
“Do you have plans later today?”
You hesitated. Technically, no, unless a hot date with Netflix and whatever leftover snacks you could find in your pantry counted as plans. You were due for a grocery trip soon. The three eggs and single sprig of spring onion in your fridge would not last for long. Cooking had never been something you enjoyed, especially not after a full work day, and yet living alone required so much of it. You didn’t want to make up a non-existent dinner reservation, partly because you knew he’d be able to tell the untruth just by listening to your voice, and partly because something unpleasant niggled at your insides at the thought of lying just to avoid him.  
“Why, what’s up?” you asked instead.
“Well, you know that jazz festival?” You gave an affirmative hum. “I have tickets for today. Mark and I were supposed to go together, but he just called me saying he can’t make it. Something about a leak in his apartment from all the rain. So…”
You stifled a yawn. “So?” Your brain was still trying to catch up with the land of the awake and living. 
“Come with me?”
The words took a while and a few blinks to register. When they did, your first instinct was to say no. Jaehyun was fine in small doses. A quick chat over coffee, sporadic texts throughout the day, conversation within the safety of a group setting — these were all fine. Manageable. Nice, even. But Jaehyun in the flesh, outside of the office, with nobody else around to buffer the strange sort of tension that seemed to always thrum between the two of you — that was an entirely different ball game altogether. Sometimes, a mere run-in was enough to have your heart going a little faster than usual, nerves lighting up at the unexpected sight of his face. 
“I am not above begging. Please don’t make me go to this thing by myself.”
And yet, there was a flicker of something pleasant and sweet, something akin to excitement that curbed the nervous flutter in your gut. You were fifteen again, waiting outside the movie theatre, a little too giddy at the thought of spending time with the boy whose sweet smile had become the cause of your stomach somersaults. And that was before you had even admitted to yourself that you liked him, as more than a friend. 
“What time is it?” you found yourself asking.
So maybe you were seriously considering it. You had been meaning to put that new film camera to use. The thing had been collecting dust in one of your drawers ever since you bought it on a whim one night scrolling through Pinterest. Somehow, the rows of tables and monitors in the office didn’t seem like the most interesting camera subjects compared to the scenes of concerts and beach bonfires that had driven your impulsive purchase. 
“Well, the doors open at 11, but the first performer is at 12. And Lauv’s set isn’t until later in the evening.”
“Lauv is performing?” Your voice had gone up almost an octave, but you couldn’t care enough to be embarrassed. This was a crucial piece of information. Now you had to be there. 
He laughed. “So is that a yes?”
“Yes. Yes, it’s a yes.” The covers were flipped off your legs in an instant.
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It wasn’t that Jaehyun looked bad in slacks and a dress shirt. That was not the case at all. But you had grown used to them on him over the last few weeks, and the sight of his long legs in a pair of well-fitting trousers no longer caused a spike in your heart rate. 
Jaehyun in casual clothes outside the office was uncharted territory. 
The midday sun was strong outside the subway station. Clad in a black graphic tee over a pair of baggy green cargos, Jaehyun stood idly at the entrance, face hidden by the brown baseball cap on his head and eyes trained on his phone. How someone could look so gorgeous in something so ordinary was a secret only he knew the truth of. He caught sight of you from across the road, waiting for the pedestrian light, and raised his hand in a wave. 
“It’s different seeing you out of your work clothes,” he said. 
“Different good or different bad?”
A soft smile grazed his lips. “Just different. You look younger.”
“So do you,” you replied. 
You look like the boy I was in love with all those years ago. 
“Did you taxi?”
“No, I took the bus. There’s one that goes straight from my building. I didn’t know you lived around here,” you mused to yourself.
“My place is really close.” He pointed somewhere behind him. “Five minutes that way, tops. You should come over sometime.”
A slight pause. Jaehyun’s eyes flitted down to the pavement. You weren’t sure if the heat in your cheeks was from the sun or something else entirely. 
“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “we should probably go. It takes 40 minutes to get there, so if we leave now we should be able to catch the 1pm.”
The subway on the weekend was nowhere near as awful as it usually was during the weekday rush hours, but packed nonetheless. You definitely preferred being stuck in a carriage full of bright-eyed and chattering teenagers than the usual crowd of solemn-faced office workers. When a seat finally freed up, Jaehyun was quick to offer it to you, manoeuvring himself so that he could stand in front of you as you sat down. Toe to toe, the tips of his shoes grazed yours, and you were suddenly reminded of study periods at the library. The two of you could never agree on who first started the game of footsie under the desk.
“See those girls over there?” you asked quietly, nodding towards a group of likely high schoolers down the other end of the carriage. Jaehyun turned his head to follow your gaze, catching sight of the girls who immediately erupted in whispers and giggles upon making eye contact with him. “They’ve been staring at you for the last two stops.”
He was quick to turn back towards you, nose scrunching and slightly embarrassed. “Kids these days are so weird,” he said with a soft groan. “Why are they doing that?”
“You know they’re only staring because you’re handsome.” 
Despite the pinkness of his ears, he was smiling wide. “You think I’m handsome?”
You blinked up at him. “I didn’t say that.” Did I? “I meant they probably think you’re handsome. Which is why they’re staring. You know. It’s nice to look at good-looking people.” 
The rushed explanations did nothing to shake the feeling that you had slipped-up somehow, and he had caught it. Jaehyun’s dimples only deepened at your backtracking.
“You know what I mean,” you finally huffed, biting back a smile at the deep sound of his responding laugh. “Whatever. I think this is our stop.”
The festival couldn’t have picked a better day to be held. The skies were clear and blue, and the air carried a light breeze that provided a welcome relief from the heavy stickiness of midsummer. It was a nice change from the sporadic rainstorms that had plagued the city over the last two weeks or so. Mark’s leaking apartment was proof of the temperamental weather. If you had one bone to pick, the sun was a tad strong, but that was to be expected. You had come prepared, tugging the bucket hat down further to cover your face. 
Alaina Castillo’s set was well underway by the time you and Jaehyun made your way into the venue grounds. A decent amount of people had already arrived, trickling in to fill up the gated area in front of the main stage. The two of you filed in with the rest, finding a place towards the back of the growing crowd where there was ample room to breathe without inhaling someone else’s breath. 
You had never been one for being stuck in a swarm of people. A harsh reminder of why that was the case appeared when, out of nowhere, a stranger’s elbow dug into your arm, knocking you sideways in their determined path towards the barricade. 
The steadying hand around your shoulder was instantaneous. 
“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked, and you mumbled something affirmative in reply, trying not to dwell too much on the warmth of his skin on your bare arm. His eyes followed the stranger who was still pushing on through the crowd in front. “People really need to watch where they’re going,” he muttered, brows drawn together in a frown.
The rest of the afternoon proceeded more smoothly. It was a little unsettling how normal and nice everything felt. Jaehyun kept close to you for the sets that followed, the distance between the two of you gradually shrinking as the crowd grew in size. The occasional brush of your forearms as you moved to the music was no longer something to jump at like you had the first time it had happened. You managed to snap a few pictures on your almost-new film camera, mostly of the artist performing, but there was one of you in there somewhere amidst the stage shots, taken by an insistent and smiley Jaehyun during one of the set breaks. 
“So this is why you wanted someone to come with you,” you said, sliding onto the bench and passing him one of the burgers from the food truck.
“It’s so much more efficient when you can line up for two things at once. If I was by myself, I’d either wait for the beer and let my burger get soggy, or wait for the burger and let my beer get warm and flat. This way the food is fresh, and our drinks are ice cold out of the fridge.”
You cracked a smile. “And here I thought you called me because you enjoyed my company.”
“I do enjoy your company,” he said without missing a beat. “The other stuff is just an added plus.”
You took a sip of the cold beer, hoping it would stave off the quick flush of your cheeks. Jaehyun said things so easily. Too easily. It was harder and harder to adhere to that invisible boundary you had been so adamant on protecting. 
Why were you so reluctant to let him back in? Why all the walls? He made it too easy for thoughts like that to creep in and loiter in the back of your mind. 
Evening had begun to settle, the brightness of the midday sky fading away to a twinkling twilight blue over your heads. The music was quieter at the picnic tables by the tents, where festival-goers sought respite from the main stage crowds with a cold beverage and something greasy. Between mouthfuls of an early makeshift dinner, you and Jaehyun sat in your own bubble, comfortably falling into conversation about the performances throughout the day, or whatever else happened to be on your minds.  
“Your mouth opens so wide,” you said, watching as he all but inhaled half the burger in one go. His nose scrunched up as he tried to take the massive bite, and the sight of it was such a far cry from his usual cool guy image that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to snap a picture of it. The click of the shutter had him looking up at you mid-chew with a dismayed expression.
“That’s not fair. You attacked when I wasn’t ready!”
“I’d hardly call that an attack,” you said, not without a smile. “I was just getting a candid.”
He wiped his fingers on the napkin. “Okay, my turn then,” he said, gesturing for you to hand the camera over. You obliged, letting him point the lens at you and fiddle with the knobs along the top. His slender fingers navigated the controls with a practised ease.
“Relax,” he added softly, noticing your fidgeting. Twenty-something years, and you had made little progress in mastering the art of posing for photos. “Pretend the camera’s not here, and it’s just you and me.”
Right. Like that was supposed to make you loosen up.
“I actually used to be really into photography. Got pretty good at it too,” he said.
“Really? I don’t remember that.”
“Picked it up in uni,” he explained. “Had all this free time on my hands and didn’t know what to do with it. Besides drinking.” A pause. “Honestly, first year second semester was pretty rough after… you know.”
The last part caught you somewhat off-guard. After that fateful April night, you had always assumed Jaehyun was off living his best life, blowing through society events with the new friends he had made, maybe even letting a few of them warm his bed now that you weren’t around. It wouldn’t have been the biggest surprise. Even at nineteen, Jaehyun’s good looks were uncontested. His sweet and attentive personality was the cherry on top of an already delectable cake. Whatever he got up to when the sun set, you were none the wiser, having completely wiped his existence from your phone by the time your first semester exam period rolled around. 
Though you didn’t go as far as to block his number, he never reached out, and so Jeong Jaehyun became a relic of the past, embracing his newfound freedom now that he had shed himself of you, his unwanted baggage.
Or so you thought.
“But yeah,” he continued, “I started getting into photography. Burnt a hole in my wallet trying out a bunch of different cameras,” he said with a chuckle. “I liked film the most though, I think. It’s the only one I still use now.” 
“What do you like about it?”
He took a moment, pausing in thought. “The colours, mostly. How it’s a bit muted, it has that vintage feeling.” You hummed in agreement. “Selfies on a film camera are fun as well.”
“You must really like looking at yourself,” you teased, enjoying the sight of his ears flushing with colour from where they poked out above the camera.
“Not like that,” he said in reply to the raise of your eyebrows. “It’s more like… when you take a selfie on film, you can’t see yourself, right? Whether the focus is focusing, or if the angle is right.
“Or if your whole face is actually in the shot, not just your right eye.”
“Exactly. But then taking the picture anyway. That’s what I like.” He pulled away from the camera to flash you a small smile. “Isn’t it funny, the way we try so hard to capture moments of time?”
Jaehyun’s attention returned to the viewfinder, leaving you to quietly dwell on his words. How else could one keep a piece of time stored away if not through photos? And yet, photography would never be able to capture the entirety of a moment the way a memory could. The sound of the band’s bass guitar from the side stage in the adjacent garden. The smell of summer carried by the evening breeze as it ruffled through his hair.
The warm feeling in your chest as you sat across from him at this wooden picnic bench, surrounded by people, sharing wistful conversation and a basket of fries. 
The feeling of coming home.
The shutter clicked.
“Got it. That last one is going to turn out so nice.” Jaehyun smiled triumphantly, cheeks dimpling. “If you make this your profile picture you have to add the ‘photo by’. I need my credits.”
You blinked away the precarious thoughts. “Alright, mister photographer man, give it back now. Don’t use up all my film before Lauv.”
He handed the camera back to you, looking very pleased with himself. The light from the nearby tents cast a dusky glow over his face. Jaehyun from Digital was sharp and polished. The Jaehyun before you now, with his hair dishevelled from taking off the cap earlier, was softer, more open, and more subtle in the way he had slipped under your defences and picked the locks chained around your heart. 
The question now was whether you’d let him in further than you already had.
He tugged at his collar. “God, it’s still muggy at night, isn’t it?” 
“You stay here, I’ll get us some more beers,” you said, already standing up.
If anything, you were grateful for the errand, a welcome distraction from the tumultuous battle between your heart and your head that always forged on at any thought of him. The line for the bar was no shorter than it had been half an hour ago, to nobody’s surprise (this was a festival in Seoul, of course the queues would be severe) and it was a while before the two cold plastic cups were in your hands. 
The short time away from him had given you the space to steer your mindset back onto the charted platonic course. A little voice in the back of your mind objected, and was making a damn convincing argument about why you should be more inclined to go beyond plain friendship with Jaehyun, but you chose to ignore it, suppressing the nagging with a deep breath and a smile that you hoped looked less conflicted than how you felt. Beers in hand, you carefully made your way back to the picnic table — only to be met with a rather interesting sight.
Jaehyun was still where you had left him, thankfully. But the two girls that now stood around him were a new addition. 
“Hey,” you greeted, tapping him on the shoulder to pass him one of the beers. The taller girl visibly deflated when he flashed you a grateful smile, taking the plastic cup from your hand. The shorter one, however, ran her eyes up and down your figure with an almost calculating gaze.
“Is this your friend?” the shorter one asked, question directed at Jaehyun.
“Uh, yeah, um—hi,” you answered very eloquently, introducing yourself. You tossed a glance between Jaehyun and the two girls. “Do you um—are you guys friends?”
“Well, no, not really. Minjeong and Jimin just came—”
“We were actually going to ask if you guys wanted to join us up closer to the main stage?” the shorter one (Minjeong perhaps?) asked, flashing a sweet smile you suspected was more for Jaehyun’s benefit than yours. “We have a blanket and a few chairs set up, so you can sit and watch the closing set. It’s much more comfortable than standing inside the barricade.”
“Jaehyun looked a little lonely by himself,” the taller one added.
Lonely because you left him for ten minutes to go get some cold drinks? These girls were unbelievable.
“What do you say? Want to join us?”
Maybe you should’ve taken the group of highschoolers on the subway earlier more seriously as a forewarning. Not that you had any say in what Jaehyun could and could not do — he was his own person, and the closest thing you had to a claim on him had disintegrated years ago. If he wanted to go hang out with pretty strangers, he could go and do exactly that, and you didn’t have to follow him either. The invitation had clearly been meant for him more than it had been for you.
So what if you had been looking forward to enjoying the last set together? You were a big girl. You could brave the main stage crowds by yourself if you had to.
Jaehyun glanced at you, searching your eyes while you tried your best to keep your face neutral and devoid of the uneasy thoughts bubbling away beneath your skin. He was his own person. He could make his own choices. 
After a second or two, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and turned back to the two expectant girls with a polite smile. “We’ll take our chances with the pit,” he answered. “But thank you for the offer. That’s kind of you guys.”
The two girls made their exit shortly afterwards, but not without a final look at him, and a decidedly less enthusiastic one at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the two of you sipping on your beers without a word, waiting for the other to speak.
“You could have gone with them if you wanted to,” you finally mumbled, eyes fixed on the contents of your cup.
To your surprise, Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m pretty sure Minjeong had an engagement ring on her finger.”
“Oh, what?” 
You definitely had not noticed, too occupied by the saccharine looks she was throwing his way.
“Yeah. It was a pretty big diamond too. I think she must have forgotten to take it off today.”
You turned to look at him then. Jaehyun already had his eyes on you, sporting a lazy grin. “Come on, you can’t think I’m the type to mess around with married women?”
“That’s not what I—I didn’t know—”
“Don’t worry,” he interjected. “You’re still cute when you’re jealous.”
The quick heat rising to your face dispelled any of the remaining nonchalance in your expression. “I wasn’t—I’m not jealous,” you spluttered. “I was just worried—I mean, not worried,” you paused, sighing. “I thought you’d leave me.”
His eyes sought out yours, keeping them captive once they grabbed a hold. 
“I wouldn’t leave you.”
The teasing brevity to his voice had disappeared. Somehow, you had the feeling he wasn’t simply talking about the jazz festival. The sincerity in his gaze made it hard to look away, but you had to, in the name of self preservation. Too long staring into those brown eyes was an unnecessary test of the upper limits of your heart rate. 
“Maybe she came with her husband. He could be up there on that picnic mat, waiting for her.”
He laughed, throwing his head back. “Trust me, if her husband was here, she would not have been looking at me like that.”
To their credit though, finding a spot to watch the main stage proved to be rather difficult now that everyone had arrived to catch the final act. For a moment you considered leaving the pit to take the two girls up on their offer. But with Jaehyun by your side, you were able to navigate the crowds with a bit more peace of mind, his presence a solid and comforting anchor within the sea of people. A few rogue pushes here and there had you stumbling — and perhaps the two beers on a rather empty stomach were coming on faster than you had expected — but he was there, steadying you with a gentle hand around your arm, or the light press of his firm chest against your back.
And maybe you leaned into him for longer than necessary to regain your balance, but was that really a crime? To enjoy the touch of a friend? Was it a crime for warmth to pool in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him swaying along to Lauv’s Enemies?
No, the little voice in your head denied forcefully. Jaehyun grooving to the music had always been one of your weaknesses. 
As the closing chords of Paris in the Rain sounded out across the venue, you pulled out your film camera.
“Walking down an empty street.”
A gentle nudge of Jaehyun’s shoulder had him turning towards you, nose scrunched in a happy half-laugh from watching the performance. You moved to face the back of the crowd and raised the camera high, pointing it towards the two of you. 
Was the stage in the shot? Was Lauv? 
Were you?
“Puddles underneath our feet.”
Call it courage, or liquid courage, or just plain recklessness on your part. Rising up on your tiptoes, you pressed your cheek to his, and clicked the shutter button. 
The final chord of the song struck, softly, like an afterthought, and the crowd burst into appreciative hoots and applause, marking the end of the performance.
You were beaming as you turned back towards him. “Do you think I got that one?”
Jaehyun simply stared at you, lips parted and turned up slightly at the corners. He looked more caught off-guard than he had when you had told him you thought all the Cigarettes After Sex songs sounded the same. You felt the glowing smile on your face slip, little by little, as you let his eyes roam your features, gaze indecipherable. They flitted to your lips, and for a second you were sure you stopped breathing.
Just do it! Just fucking do it! screamed that little voice in the back of your mind.
And perhaps you would’ve done it too, whatever it was, if it weren’t for the shove from behind that sent you almost face-planting into his chest.
“What the hell?” you yelped, whipping your head around. 
What was with the people here today? You never thought jazz lovers could be so aggressive and insensitive to others’ personal space. Trying to find the perpetrator was a futile task, since the crowd had started to disperse following the end of the performance, moving in all directions.
Jaehyun looked over you with concern, the earlier expression on his face now gone. 
“Come on,” he finally said, fingers gently circling around your wrist. “Let’s get out of here before we get trampled by the crowd.”
Overhead, the blue-black sky that had been so cooperative for the whole day emitted a low rumble, as if to emphasise Jaehyun’s words. Sure enough, by the time the two of you arrived at the station, it had started to sprinkle. Perhaps the clouds had been holding back the rain until the very end of the festival. How considerate of them, you thought.
The ride back into the city felt shorter than the one to the venue, though it couldn’t have been. Saturday nights were even busier than the weekday rush hour, with people young and old out and about, ready to tame the weekend with sheer determination and a bottle of soju in the stomach. This time, there were no free seats in your carriage, but you didn’t mind. Standing with Jaehyun, your heads pressed together to go through the videos in his camera roll, made the time pass faster. There was something to his photos, you decided. Something in the angle, or the light, or the composition, that made them look nicer than the ones on your phone. Maybe you ought to take a photography course too.
The clouds may have been considerate enough for the festival to hold off dumping their contents during the day, but they certainly were not for the two of you tonight. Standing under cover at the subway station exit, you watched as the torrential deluge only seemed to worsen. Thunder cracked angrily through the air. It wasn’t July without the threat of flash flooding. 
“Any drivers around?” Jaehyun asked.
You gave a sad shake of your head. “Nobody’s picking up my request. Must be because of the rain,” you muttered. Overhead, the sky split open with a strike of lightning, startling you, and you jumped back a bit, further into the covered area of the exit.
“How about the bus?”
“I think I just missed one,” you answered, checking the timetable on your phone. “It says the next isn’t for another twenty minutes. But with the rain, it might be delayed even longer.”
You flicked through the taxi app, then the bus timetable app, and then finally back to the weather app, which you always seemed to forget to check on days like this. Three consecutive 100% signs stared back at you, and you let out a sigh. The sky would not be clearing up anytime soon.
“My apartment is only two streets down, if you want somewhere to wait out the rain,” he said.
You looked up at him. The smile on his face was guileless, but at the same time, there was something guarded about it, like he was expecting your rejection. Perhaps you had studied his face for too long, because then he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and averting his eyes to the ground.
“Or you don’t have to, we could just—”
“Okay,” you said.
His head shot back up. “Okay?”
You shrugged, a smile finding its way to your lips. “I’d rather not be soaking wet on the bus.”
“Okay,” he repeated, corners of his mouth turning upwards to mirror yours. “To my place, then.”
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The usual five minute walk to Jaehyun’s apartment from the subway station turned into a two-and-a-half minute mad dash under the downpour. Despite your attempts at keeping to storefront shelters and ducking under the cover of big trees, the short trip had ended up with the both of you drenched to the bone, teeth chattering as you dripped rainwater all over his lobby.
You said a silent apology to the building cleaners. 
It was a relief to be dry again. Jaehyun’s sweats swamped you, the French terry fabric pooling around your feet as you sat on the couch in his living room. The top was no better, reaching almost to your knees, with the sleeves completely covering your fingertips. His clothes weren’t always this big on you. At least he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent. 
The sound of the running shower blended smoothly with the raindrops pelting violently against the balcony window. You wrung your hands, unsure of what to do while you waited for him to come out of the bathroom. It was easy to feel out of place in a home foreign to you. The sleek furniture and minimalist colour palette of the apartment looked nothing like Jaehyun’s childhood bedroom. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to come to his place. While you were pretty sure he hadn’t invited you up with any ulterior motives in mind, there was still something ambiguous about being in your ex-boyfriend’s home and wearing his clothes. And only his clothes. 
You would have liked to keep your undergarments on, but they had also been soaked through. Going bare in these too-big sweats had seemed the less questionable option, compared to sitting with a wet patch around your butt and crotch. Heat flooded your face as you thought about your underwear and bra hanging on the heated towel rack in the bathroom. 
Whatever. It wasn’t like they were things he’d never seen before. And as for his clothes, of course you’d wash them before giving them back to him. 
It was then that you decided that you had enough of sitting around in a puddle of fabric and your own thoughts. Jaehyun’s living room wasn’t all that big, even if it felt roomier than your own, with enough space to fit a decently-sized couch and small coffee table. The tv on the far wall sat atop a rather large entertainment unit that, upon further inspection, also housed a record player and an impressive collection of vinyls. 
You padded over, eyes flicking through the various titles printed on the covers. One of them had been taken out from the shelf and sat splayed on top of the cabinet. Maybe he had meant to play it, or just forgotten to put it away. Slowly, you let a finger trace around the edge of the jacket and over the black lettering of the title. You’d recognise that white album cover anywhere.
Only you knew how much effort it had taken to source the thing, scouring auction sites and dodgy online stores until you finally bit the bullet and ordered it from a reasonable-looking seller with a 4.7 star rating. But it had all been worth it. The unadulterated joy on Jaehyun’s face as he undid the wrapping paper to reveal Frank Ocean’s Blonde was not something you could easily forget. Later, you found out that it had probably been a bootleg, since the official Blonde vinyls were a limited release, but he had hardly batted an eye when you broke the news.
“Still my favourite birthday present that anyone’s gotten me,” Jaehyun said. 
Dressed in a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweatpants, he leant against the bathroom door, surveying you with an easy smile. You must not have heard the shower turn off, the noise drowned out by the storm raging outside. His hair, still damp from the shower, hung over his eyes, and you watched as he brushed it back with his right hand, arm flexing with the movement.
The sudden flare in your lower belly was something you’d rather not feel, alone in these four walls with him, with nobody else around to witness or put a stop to whatever might follow. You’d like to think self control was something you had a firm grip on, but it seemed Jaehyun was made to put you to the test.
“Actually think it might be my favourite present ever,” he added, pushing off the door frame. He reached you in a few strides, maintaining a polite distance between your bodies.
“I didn’t even realise you still had this,” you murmured, letting him take the record from your hands. You tried not to flinch at the brush of his fingers against yours. “You didn’t even have one of these back then,” you said, lightly tapping the case of the record player.
“I changed my mind, actually. The turntable is my favourite present.”
An unfamiliar twinge of dread zipped through you. “Who gave it to you?” 
Could it be an ex-lover’s gift sitting on display in his living room? That did not sit nicely in your stomach.
“Myself.” 
He was holding back a laugh, eyes squeezed into crescent moons and too busy appreciating his own joke to catch the quick roll of your eyes. Instantly, your chest felt a little lighter, and the dread vanished as quickly as it had come on.
“Here, let me put it on,” he said, shuffling over towards you to lift up the case on the record player. With gentle fingers and a delicateness you didn’t see often, he unsleeved the record and carefully placed it on the turntable. A few fiddles with the side knobs and a precise adjustment of the needle arm later, the opening bars of Frank Ocean’s Pink and White filled the air of his living room.
For a minute, there were no words exchanged, the two of you simply content to enjoy the music as it filtered through the speakers. There was a quiet smile on Jaehyun’s face. You wondered if he, like you, was thinking of the last time you had listened to this album together.
The image of the two of you, sprawled out on his bed, sharing a pair of wired earphones, was hard to shake. It had been early evening, or nearly twilight. Sometime before sunset. The reflection on the ceiling of his childhood bedroom had changed along with the sky, until the only light left in the room was the dim blue glow from the laptop on his desk. At his mother’s call for dinner, he had gently shaken you awake, fingers light on your shoulder and against your cheek. 
Jaehyun was undoubtedly handsome in the light. But there was something about dusk and the softness of the shadows on his face that made him all the more compelling. You usually weren’t one to initiate, so the kiss you pressed to his mouth in the barely-lit room had surprised you both. 
Even now, the thought strangely sent a flood of heat to your cheeks.
“Sorry, did you want something to eat? I haven’t been a very good host.”
The grumble of your stomach answered before you could. You bit back an embarrassed smile, but Jaehyun was not so frugal with his amusement, letting out a short chuckle. Your feet followed him as he made his way to the kitchen. Perched on the marble countertop, you watched as he rummaged through the fridge.
“I have eggs, yesterday’s leftovers, and a shit ton of beer cans,” he announced. 
You exchanged a glance.
“Let’s do ramen, actually. That sounds better.” He bent down to dig through the pantry, pulling out two red packets, before moving back to the fridge and getting two eggs. “I can crack these in too, and—why are you looking at me like that?”
It was your turn to laugh, the wide grin on your face a contrast to the cautious smile on his.
“Are we having ramen?”
His brow creased a little. “I thought you liked ramen?” The innocent tilt of his head made him all the more endearing to look at.
“I do, but… did you really invite me back to your place… to have ramen?”
It took a few seconds for the ball to drop. You held back giggles as his ears flushed hotly, as they always seemed to do on the occasions you decided to indulge yourself and tease him.
“Come on, that’s not—you’re doing it on purpose,” he said, bottom lip jutting out with the suggestion of a pout. Despite his grumbles, the shape of his mouth slowly settled into a defeated smile at your visible glee of having flustered him. 
Jaehyun, soft-spoken and easy-going, was not the type to be easily ruffled. You excelled and enjoyed the challenge of it more than most.
“No,” he said once your laughter had somewhat subsided, voice low and velvety. “But I wouldn’t be opposed.”
And suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore.
The silence that followed was a loud one. It was hard to ignore the way your mouth dried up at his words. Something warm and tingly spread from your stomach all the way down to your toes as you stood there under his level gaze, eyes drawn to his like magnets. He had to know. The effect his words had on you were surely plastered all over your face, obvious in the tight grip of your fingers against the countertop and the shortening of your breaths.
Jaehyun leaned in a little closer and you felt the inhale stick in the back of your throat. Then he cracked a crooked smile, pretty teeth all on display. 
“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”
He moved away then, busying himself with pouring water into a pot and bringing it to a boil while you tried to blink yourself out of the daze. “Ramen okay?” he asked over his shoulder.
You cleared your dry throat, somehow finding your voice again. “Ramen is fine. Thank you,” you added after a beat. You took a deep breath, waiting for the rush of blood to drain from your face. 
Something sour settled in your chest — something akin to disappointment, though surely it couldn’t be. Disappointed that what? Jaehyun wasn’t actually sexually attracted to you? When you were obviously still attracted to him, despite all your attempts at convincing yourself you weren’t?
You scoffed to yourself. As if.
A quick shake of your head was almost enough to clear your mind, save for the remnants of that sour feeling that lingered. You asked if there was anything you could do to help, not wanting to simply sit around on your thumbs and wait to be fed. He had insisted you do exactly that, warning you there was only enough space in the kitchen for one, and assuring that there was nothing he needed from you besides patience and faith in his cooking. 
Patience you could give him. Faith was a little harder to muster, given your memories of the kitchen disaster from when he had tried to make okonomiyaki. 
The questionable, half-burnt half-uncooked taste was one thing. You finding random pieces of cabbage on the tiled floor for days afterwards was another thing entirely.
However, it seemed Jaehyun had improved from his old ways. The steaming pot he brought over to the coffee table not only smelled delicious, but looked the part too. You helped carry over the small bowls and chopsticks, along with two cans of beer, despite his requests for you to just sit and be ready to eat.
You took the first bite, blowing on the noodles to cool them down before slurping them into your mouth. All the while, he watched you, an expectant expression painting his face. 
“Wow. You’ve grown up, Jeong Jaehyun. Who would’ve guessed you’d become such a whiz in the kitchen?” 
He smiled, a bashful one at your compliment. “Being able to cook ramen is nothing impressive,” he said, digging in with his own chopsticks.
“There was no way you could have made this for me when we were 17. Look at this egg!” The centre was perfectly soft, not too runny, but not rock hard either. Just the way you liked them. 
You took another mouthful. “You’re a changed man,” you said. “Honestly, your place is a lot cleaner than I expected it to be.”
“That’s what living with four other guys will do to you. I had to learn how to clean out of pure survival,” he chuckled. 
“Was it really that bad?”
He grimaced. “You should’ve seen my dorm room. Basically a biological hazard.”
“They didn’t let non-students into the building. Your building RA was crazy scary, remember?” Even now you could remember the perpetual scowl of the law major when Jaehyun brought you into the dorm lobby.
“It was probably for the best. You would’ve broken up with me on the spot the second you walked through the door.”
You shared a laugh. Strangely, jokes about your break-up were light-hearted in their landing, the words leaving much less of a prickly uncomfortableness than you had been expecting. Perhaps it was still an event of importance in your life, but that cloudy unpleasantness you had come to associate it with had dissipated. It was a turning point, certainly. But so was graduation, and moving out, and travelling overseas for the first time. 
Your feelings about those things weren’t all bad. As you shared the pot of ramen and sipped on your beers, you realised, neither were your feelings about Jaehyun.
“I’m telling you, I was drinking Taeyong under the table. And I do mean that literally. He was passed out and laid across the stools.” He grinned, proud at the memory of beating his senior even five years later. You couldn’t help but grin too, amused by the sincerity of his expression and the way his shoulders set in accomplishment.
“Okay, okay. So now you’re a better drinker, you’ve gotten good at cooking, and you’re cleaner too.”
“And funnier,” he added.
“That one is still up for debate,” you joked, and his eyebrows furrowed together in mock offence. Digs at his sense of humour were not taken lightly. 
“Just because you don’t get my high quality gags,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re missing out.”
You nodded, making a noise of agreement if only to appease him. 
“What about me? How am I different?” you asked, voice curious. 
Jaehyun didn’t miss a beat. “Hmm, I think you got older?”
“Come on, I’m being serious!”
His laughter subdued then, surveying you thoughtfully. A quiet smile tugged at his lips when he spoke again. 
“You’re more outspoken than you used to be.” He paused, taking a sip from his can while trying to find the right words, all the while keeping his eyes on you. “You prioritise yourself more. And you’re more sure of who you are. You shine brighter, I think.”
Strange, how a person’s gaze could strip you down and make you feel so naked. There was nothing but earnestness in his eyes, plain and absolute, and the intensity of it was almost too much for you to bear. After all your time apart, Jaehyun could still see you, and see through you. 
I think you still know me inside out, and that scares me, you wanted to tell him.
Instead, you looked away first, tearing your eyes away from his with considerable effort. The pot of ramen on the coffee table, lukewarm now, was almost finished. The music had also stopped playing a while ago. Neither you or Jaehyun had bothered to get up and flip the vinyl to the other side, too busy eating. All that was left was the rain, and even that had faded to a soft pattering against the glass, following its own rhythm. 
Hastily, you stuffed a piece of kimchi into your mouth, for lack of anything better to do. The crunch of it in your mouth was loud, and you fought back a cringe.
“Did your mother make this?” you asked, hoping your attempt at diverting the conversation wasn’t so obvious.
If Jaehyun noticed, he didn’t show it, only nodding in confirmation. 
“She dropped some off last month,” he replied. “Remember how you told me her’s was better than your own mother’s?”
You let out a scandalised gasp. “As if I would ever say such a thing! Don’t let my mother ever hear something so blasphemous about her favourite daughter.”
“You’re her only daughter.”
“And you care too much about technicalities. Just because I’m the only one doesn’t mean I can’t still be the favourite.”
The crisp crunch of another piece of kimchi punctuated the end of your sentence. There was certainly something different about Mama Jeong’s recipes. If there was one thing you missed besides Jaehyun himself, it would have been his mother’s cooking. The woman knew her way around a stovetop better than a Michelin chef, at least in your eyes. 
You thought of her warm smile, and her even warmer embrace. Jaehyun had inherited many things from her, kindness being the greatest of them. Back then, she had been so sure of your future place in their family, welcoming you into her home as if you were her own daughter. You wondered where she stood on that now.
Still clinging onto that idea, perhaps, or were her sights now set on someone else?
“You’ve got something…”  Jaehyun murmured.
He reached across the table, over the pot and the small bowls, the movement quick and almost instinctive. Soft fingers found purchase on your left cheek. His thumb was gentle as it brushed away the stray chilli flake from the corner of your mouth.
Just the lightest touch against your bottom lip. And the warmth of his hand cradling your face.
Then he froze, as if to catch himself, but the damage was already done.
Jaehyun pulled his hand back with a start, an inscrutable expression across his face. He spilled a quick apology that you smiled away, putting on a composed front. At least, you assumed it was an apology. It was hard to hear anything above the buzzing chaos of your mind. The air filled with idle noise as the two of you shuffled in your seats.
“I should um—I should probably get going,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. The meal had long been finished. Your hands were already beginning to gather up the bowls and utensils into a stack for easy carrying. 
Jaehyun hummed, something akin to resignation in the noise. “Yeah, uh… I guess so.”
“Let me help you clean up first, and then I’ll be on my way.”
Despite his protests against you assisting with any kind of housework, there you were at the sink, helping him scrub everything nice and clean within the small space of his kitchen. Maybe he was right about there only being enough space for one person behind the counter. The aluminium beer cans went into their designated bins, and you made sure to wipe down the coffee table too.
This time, your half-damp, half-dried clothes found their way into a Byredo shopping bag — Jaehyun would rather die than not smell good — though your shoes still squelched rather uncomfortably when you slipped your bare feet in. By luck, you were able to book a taxi and could pass on the wet walk to the bus stop.
You thanked him again for bringing you along, noting that you probably got more out of the alleged ‘favour’ than he did. 
“Trust me, going with you made the whole thing so much better,” he said, both cheeks dimpling in your favourite smile of his. “And let me know if you need to get the film on your camera developed. I know a place.”
The ride home was flavoured by a sudden loneliness. Maybe it was the view of the city at night, or the absence of people out on the rainy streets, that had an empty feeling settle in your chest. 
Perhaps you should have delayed leaving his apartment. Perhaps you shouldn’t have left at all, and instead weathered the night away with Jaehyun on the couch, some slasher flick playing on the television while you shook under the blankets and tried not to scream at the jumpscares, like you used to. You never did understand why he liked horror films as much as he did.
Perhaps he’d slot his fingers between your own and give them a reassuring squeeze, and gaze at you with the kind of amused fondness he only ever reserved for you.
Heat flooded your face. As if you were entertaining the thought of spending the night at your ex-boyfriend’s place. And getting butterflies at the thought of holding hands? 
How embarrassing.
One thing was for certain. The walls you had put up were cracking, and there seemed to be little hope of patching them up.
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“Will you stop messing with that thing?”
Jungwoo clicked his tongue against his teeth, fingers still fiddling with the ribbon on the gift bag. 
“It’s not straight,” he grumbled, pulling at the bow.
“You’re so pedantic.”
“It’s called being detail-oriented,” he fired back, leaning against the backseat of the taxi with a sigh.
You raised an eyebrow. “You say that like I’m not.”
“Well,” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. His mouth formed the shape of a smirk. 
You flicked a glance towards the rearview mirror, checking to see if the driver was paying attention to the two of you in the back. After verifying he was not, you landed a few (soft…ish) punches on Jungwoo’s upper arm, revelling in the shocked little noises he made, along with a few mumbles of ‘that actually hurts’ and ‘crazy woman’. 
How nice it was to let your hands fly without the threat of some other fifth floor witness reporting you for physical harassment. 
“I’m telling Joy the present is entirely from me,” you warned, turning around to face the front again.
“Right, except the card inside says my name too. So that’s not going to work.”
You reached into the gift bag, pulling out said card before rolling down the window. “Let me just throw this out.”
It was Jungwoo’s turn to deliver a light smack to your wrist. You dropped the envelope back in the bag, not without tossing an eye-roll his way. He knew just as well as you did that there was no real substance behind the threats — banter with Jungwoo was more for amusement than anything else. Deep down, you were quite fond of him, even if your actions tended to say otherwise, and you’d like to wager he quite enjoyed your company too. 
You couldn’t wait to get a few shots in him later tonight. Word had it he was a notorious lightweight. 
“Hopefully nobody vomits. I’d hate to be cleaning that up in my own house.” He shuddered at the thought. 
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” you smiled sweetly, patting him on the shoulder. “You just focus on sticking to your limit, okay? I heard what happened at last year’s wrap up event.”
He bristled. “Nothing happened! It honestly wasn’t even that bad. I’m getting unfairly slandered,” he sulked. “I think you should stop hanging out with Joy so much.”
“Yeah, alright. Should we just skip her birthday party and turn the car around then?”
“Shut up.”
The taxi pulled up in front of Joy’s apartment complex, a tall modern thing with much bigger windows than your own building. And so much more glass, too. After splitting the taxi fare with Jungwoo, the two of you stood at the entrance, waiting for the intercom to connect. 
“Are you sure you pressed the right buttons?” Jungwoo asked, peering over your shoulder.
“Yes, of course. Apartment 814.”
“Maybe you should let me try.”
You let out a sigh. “It’s three numbers, Jungwoo. How is it going to be any different if it’s you pressing them instead of me? Do you think the keypad is going to magically—”
“Hello?” 
An unfamiliar male voice crackled through the intercom. “Are you here for Joy?” 
“Yes,” you and Jungwoo answered in unison. 
“Great, I’ll come down to get you guys now. Will only be a minute!” and then the line disconnected.
You and Jungwoo exchanged a glance. “Is he going to let us in?” you asked. 
“He literally said he’d come down to get us,” he answered flatly. “Do you not listen?”
“It was hard to hear him clearly with all the noise in the background,” you grumbled in defence. Hopefully Joy’s walls were thicker than your own, and her neighbours would not lodge a complaint halfway through the night.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal the face of the intercom answerer. It wasn’t detective work to match up the real thing to the pictures Joy would sometimes show you, though he looked taller in real life than he did in the photos from their weekend Jeju trip.
“Sorry about the wait, it was a bit hard to hear the doorbell,” he greeted, ushering you both inside with a warm smile. “I’m Doyoung, by the way.”
You and Jungwoo both introduced yourselves as you stepped into the elevator after him, to which he responded with a hum in recognition, and a knowing grin.
“Are you on door duty for the night?” Jungwoo asked.
Doyoung nodded, pressing on the button for the eighth floor. “It appears I am. She has her hands full with guests to entertain, so,” he trailed off, eyes glazing over for a split second, “you’ll see what I mean when we get up there.”
You had never imagined that a 2-bedroom apartment could fit so many people. Granted, it was nothing compared to the kind of parties you frequented during your university days where cheap spirits and green soju bottles lined the counter, but it was quite a distant cry from the gathering you thought it would be. Judging by the look on Jungwoo’s face, he had not been expecting this either. 
There had to be at least forty people. It almost made you wonder why she didn’t just book out a space instead of letting everyone invade her and her boyfriend’s shared home.
Doyoung made his exit rather quickly after letting you in, probably off to tend to one of his many other duties as unofficial host — poor guy was likely in for a very busy night — leaving you and Jungwoo to fend for yourselves in the entryway of the apartment. There was barely any room left in the tiled space for you to put your shoes.
How did Joy even know this many people? was the thought at the forefront of your mind as you helped Jungwoo stack his sneakers next to yours on a rack further down the hallway. Her present was left on a table near the entry piled with gift bags and wrapped boxes that you assumed was the designated drop-off area. 
Speaking of the birthday girl, you spotted her mingling in the living room and pointed her out to Jungwoo, though it was no easy feat finding her. The number of people, coupled with the dim ambient lighting, made it a challenge to recognise familiar faces. Joy, champagne glass in hand, was swept away in conversation with one of the most beautiful women you had ever laid eyes on. The gorgeous lady held a matching champagne flute in one hand, while the other was wrapped around the arm of—
“Junmyeon? What the hell is he doing here with that beautiful woman?” 
Jungwoo took the words right out of your mouth, a somewhat displeased noise making its way past his lips. You couldn’t help but echo the sentiment.
“Can’t believe this turned into a work function the moment we stepped through the door,” you all but groaned. “And here I thought having you around was bad enough already.”
You expertly dodged the elbow he jabbed into your side.
Joy spotted the two of you then, lingering by the kitchen, and quickly excused herself from the conversation to rush over. The champagne wobbled precariously in her glass as she approached, engulfing the two of you in a sweet-smelling hug.
“My little children! I’m so glad you could make it!” she cried, resting her chin in the space between your shoulder and Jungwoo’s. You exchanged a glance with the boy amidst the chorus of ‘happy birthday’s. 
There was a 77% chance she was drunk already.
“Had a little too much fun tonight?” you asked, helping to prop her upright again.
Joy only beamed in response. “All the more fun now that you two are here. My favourite fifth floor prisoners.” She gave your cheek a soft pinch.
“Quick question,” Jungwoo began, “why is our manager in your house?”
“With his arm around a beautiful woman way out of his league?” you added, swatting her fingers away from your face.
“That’s my sister Irene,” she said, like it was common knowledge. 
You raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you have a sister?”
“Okay, well not my real sister,” she amended, hurriedly waving off your words. “She was a senior in my department. I was really close with her back in university, so, basically my sister. I think we look pretty alike, honestly.”
“And her relation to Junmyeon is…?”
Joy threw a conspiratorial glance around before leaning in, beckoning the two of you closer. This time, a few drops of the champagne did manage to escape via the side of her glass, narrowly missing Jungwoo’s white socks.
“I set them up. On a date!” she whispered, eyes glinting with pride. Why she chose to whisper when it was already hard enough to hear her above the noise at her normal speaking level was beyond you.
You blinked at her a few times. “You set up a goddess like that… with our manager?”
Joy waved another hand dismissively. “Oh, please. Like Junmyeon’s not handsome too. You only think that because you’re too used to seeing him frown and squint at a monitor.” 
You cast a glance in his direction. Maybe she was right. Junmyeon did look somewhat more like a human without his glasses and the semi-permanent lines etched into his forehead. He even looked (dare you say it) quite nice. But maybe it was the poor lighting that made it seem that way.
“Anyways, it’s been about… two months now? I think they look pretty good together,” she mused, following your gaze. 
Junmyeon must have said something funny — a rather loose use of the word by your standards — because Irene had her lovely face scrunched up in a laugh, the pitched sound of it ringing out clearly above the noise of the apartment. In her amusement, she even threw a hand out to slap him lightly on the arm, which he appeared very pleased by.
Sure, you laughed at his jokes too, but it was more out of corporate self-preservation than actual amusement. 
“He kind of has been in a better mood recently,” Jungwoo said thoughtfully.
Joy grabbed his hand with fervour. “Yes, exactly! See? Thanks to my sacrifice, we can all enjoy a nicer, much more pleasant office environment.”
“I’d hardly call that a sacrifice,” you chuckled. “You take too much pleasure in playing matchmaker.” Joy’s response was nothing more than a guilty smile, followed by her emptying the rest of the glass.
It was then that you heard it — the deep, reverberating laugh that always bordered a little bit on breathlessness. It was slightly unnerving how quickly you could pinpoint the sound of his voice without even seeing him, or knowing that he had entered the room. 
You turned around first, eyes drawn to the entry hallway in search of the face to which the laugh belonged. Of course he was going to be here. You knew that. He had said as much two days ago, bidding you farewell across the cafeteria table with a promise to ‘see you on the weekend at Joy’s’.
Lunch with Jaehyun had recently become a rarer occurrence. From what he told you, and the bits of information you gleaned from Joy about Digital, Johnny had pulled Jaehyun onto his team to try and get a firmer grip on the reins not even two weeks ago. Already, the intensity of the new workload was obvious.
You certainly saw him less, much to your disappointment — you could admit that to yourself now.
Jaehyun emerged from the hallway then, midway through another laugh with an arm slung around Doyoung’s shoulders. Funny, how all the other faces were so murky and hard to identify under the dim lighting. And yet, the shape of his dimpled smile was unmistakable to you, as bright as the beacon of a lighthouse on the midnight sea. 
Doyoung scanned the room, catching sight of Joy with you and Jungwoo. He gestured at his girlfriend, and Jaehyun obediently turned in your direction, likely wanting to give his greetings to the birthday girl.
Your eyes locked, and your heart gave a woeful little squeeze in your chest.
“I’m just going to do a quick check on the drink inventory,” Doyoung said as they approached, “I’ll be right back. And please take care of my favourite guest.” With a final friendly pat on Jaehyun’s shoulder, he was off, ducking into the kitchen. 
“Happy birthday!” Jaehyun beamed, arms circling around Joy in a hug which she enthusiastically returned. He grabbed Jungwoo’s hand, pulling him in for one of those man greetings. (Since when were they close?) Their apparent friendship was an unexpected development. 
And then it was your turn. You wondered if it was as easy for others to find solace in a mere gaze as you did with Jaehyun. His eyes did not stray far, wandering around your face, something tender and comforting in his appraisal of your features. A hand came up to brush against your lower back, a gentle and quiet greeting against the excitement of the previous two. His lips pulled into a soft smile as he called your name in greeting. 
“You two are ridiculous,” Joy scoffed.
You inhaled sharply. Was it really that easy to tell? The depth of your attachment?
“You planned this, right? I mean seriously, matching outfits?” she asked, gesturing at you and Jaehyun.
You blinked a few times, looking down blankly at yourself. The dark wash denim and white silk that you had picked out yesterday looked back at you familiarly. Then you glanced at Jaehyun, taking in his white t-shirt, half tucked into a pair of jeans that were exactly the same wash as yours. 
The coordination was completely unintentional — you had no idea what you were going to wear tonight the last time you had spoken to him — but the look on Joy’s face told you there was no use in trying to convince her of the truth. 
(You would’ve argued that the cowl neck of your white silk top elevated your outfit above Jaehyun’s plain white tee, but you digressed.)
“Okay. I’m done with this,” Jungwoo said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’m going to do what single people do, and that is to get a goddamn drink.”
“Me too, another bubbly,” Joy chimed, grasping onto Jungwoo’s arm as he turned to leave for the kitchen. “See my success rate? Let me set you up with someone. My hairdresser’s daughter went to Korea University Business School and graduated not too long ago.” 
The rest of her appeal to play matchmaker for Jungwoo was swallowed up by the music and chatter of her guests. And then it was just you, and Jaehyun, and the thirty other people filling up the living room. 
The two of you shared a glance before dissolving into a few light giggles. 
“I do think I pull it off better,” you teased, giving Jaehyun another once-over. He was as handsome as always, the white cotton draped picturesquely across his lean frame while the dark jeans made his mile-long legs look even longer. He could wear a garbage bag and make it look couture. 
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he said with a crooked smile. 
He raised his arm to reveal the denim jacket draped across his arm that you hadn’t noticed before, too busy making sad little googly eyes at him that you hoped other people couldn’t see. The jacket was coloured in the same wash as his jeans, and your own. 
You gave a scandalised gasp. “No, a matching set? How am I supposed to beat that?”
“You can’t. You can only admit defeat to the double denim. I out-Justin-Timberlaked you.”
“Justin Timberlake is not a verb.”
He only grinned in response, teeth pearly and eyes sparkling as he took in the slight pout of your mouth. 
“Whatever,” you conceded with a wave of your hand, though a smile crept its way onto your face. “You win. Let’s get something to drink.”
Jungwoo and Joy were nowhere to be found when the two of you made your way to the kitchen. What you did find was an impressive selection of bottles atop the marble counter, a selection that easily outdid the ones from your university days in both quality and variety. 
At least one thing was the same. Green soju bottles were always a dependable presence. 
“Shall we go for your favourite?” Jaehyun asked, holding up what looked to be a bottle of wine. You moved a little closer, peering at the label through his fingers.
“I do enjoy a good red,” you replied, accepting the glass he offered you with a quiet ‘thank you’. You took a small sip — because tonight, you felt no need to gulp down alcohol like a camel to ease your nerves — before adding, “Merlot is far from my favourite though.”
“Really?’ He raised an eyebrow. “I do seem to remember how you pretty much finished a whole bottle by yourself. At dinner, that time at the Italian place.”
You held back a wince at the recollection of that fated blind date. Of course he’d remember that. It would be hard to forget the way you all but sculled down three full glasses in the time it took him to finish one. A quick sideways glance revealed the slight upturn to the corners of his mouth, paired with a telling glint in his eyes. Jaehyun was teasing.
“It was honestly quite impressive,” he said, lips curling into a full-blown smile now.
“That was different,” you said. The next sip went down a little faster than you would have liked. “That was out of necessity.” 
There was no way I could’ve made it through that night without alcohol in my system, you almost said, but caught yourself just in time. 
A few seconds passed before either of you spoke again.
“Were you really upset to see me?”
Gone was the playful lilt to his voice. This question was asked softly, carefully, the sound of it so delicate you were afraid it would shatter in the air at your clumsy reply. Slowly, you turned to look at him, seeking the reassurance you were sure you could find in his eyes, but they had moved to the contents of his own glass. You followed their path, watching as he gave the liquid a few absent-minded swirls.
“Maybe. A little, I think,” you admitted. “I don’t know. There was a lot going on in my head that day. When I realised it was you.”
A pair of giggling women — Joy’s guests who you didn’t know — approached the counter, one of them tentatively reaching for something in front of you. Noticing her struggle, you shuffled slightly towards Jaehyun, trying to make some space around the counter. The one with her hand outstretched flashed you a grateful smile, which you politely returned, although with far less vigour. 
Perhaps the bustling kitchen in the centre of all the foot traffic wasn’t the best place for a conversation like this.
There was some fussing with the bottle cap, or whatever it was that they couldn’t quite get to work, followed by a considerably clean pour for two people who were clearly not quite sober. Then they were gone, giggling the entire way out of the kitchen and freeing up the space around you.
If you wanted to, you could have stepped back and returned to your original spot before their arrival. Put some more distance between you and Jaehyun again. Not that you were seriously encroaching on his personal space, but it was enough for you to recognise the proximity.
Instead, you took the smallest of steps closer and placed a hand on his forearm. His eyes flitted down at the touch, taking in the way your fingers lay feather-light on his skin, just above the ridge of his wrist. 
“I’m glad it was you,” you said. The words were true, but the honesty of them still tasted odd on your tongue, and you fought back a cringe. Jaehyun finally turned to meet your eyes, some semblance of hope, or maybe it was relief that coloured his expression. “And I’m glad we’re here, now,” you added.
You hoped he knew you weren’t talking about the far right corner of Joy’s kitchen.
Jaehyun smiled, and it was like the sun had finally risen up over the stark mountain peak, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. It was the kind of warmth you didn’t realise you craved until the full force of it spilled over you, washing away the blue and the cold. 
“Me too,” he said softly.
Even if you hadn’t fallen victim to Joy’s schemes, you would like to think the two of you would still end up here, only via longer and slightly different routes. Perhaps an unexpected run-in in the lobby on a Tuesday morning, or the eventual and excruciatingly awkward introduction through Joy. Whatever it may have been, you’d like to think you would’ve found your way to each other again eventually. 
Curiosity tickled your mind. “What about you?”
“Hmm?”
He was still smiling, the lines by his nose just visible, and he had his eyes on you, though there was a faraway look about them. Something about his gaze reminded you of the way you’d regard a painting, framed and hung up on a wall in some art museum — carefully examining the details of the brushstrokes against the canvas, yet all the while trying to hold the whole piece in your mind’s eye, and let it touch the surface of that primal emotion somewhere inside of you. The depth of his gaze was enough to make you self-conscious, and you quickly averted your eyes, taking another sip from your glass. It was a good excuse to school your features before you spoke again.
“How did you feel when you saw me? Were you upset?”
Jaehyun regarded his own glass wistfully. “Not exactly upset, no,” he began, though a movement in his peripheral had him trailing off. 
Another of Joy’s guests had appeared, hovering beside the two of you with his eyes set on the bottle of whiskey directly in front of you. Politely, Jaehyun side-stepped away from the counter and wrapped a gentle hand around the bend of your elbow, guiding you out of the hectic buzz of the kitchen. It stayed there, warm and comforting, until you found your way back to the open space of the living room, and even then he was slow to let you go, fingertips lingering a just second too long before they retreated back to his side. 
“I think I was surprised, more than anything,” he continued. “Didn’t really know what to expect, not that I was expecting much. I never even thought I’d get to see you again after university. Thought you were gone for good.”
He paused, one side of his mouth quirking up slightly. The movement was small, and you wondered if you were supposed to have caught it at all.
“You stood there, with your bag in one hand and your cardigan in the other, looking like you were waiting for me to spontaneously combust—”
“Okay, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“—and all I could think about was how you were even prettier than I remembered. And back then I already thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.”
At that, you were quiet. Whatever silly rebuttal or attempt to defend yourself died quickly on your tongue as you let his confession settle beneath your skin, warming it from the inside out. Jaehyun was not even one bit fazed, looking like he had just said something trivial about the weather, or stated some objective fact like ‘grass is green’. For him, honesty had never been the heavy, cumbersome challenge it was for you. Judging by the resigned smile on his face, he wasn’t expecting some grand response from you either, which was all the better, because god, what were you supposed to say to something like that?
“Oh, there you are,” came a voice from behind you, followed by a hand on your shoulder. 
Joy’s timing was impeccable, as always.
“Sorry, this one is coming with me,” she said to Jaehyun, looping her arm around yours with half-drunken determination. “Us fifth-floors have some business to settle. With darts.”
Your eyes followed the direction of her outstretched arm, where sure enough, there was a dartboard hanging on the wall by the balcony. Jungwoo was there, standing obediently with his hands crossed in front of his stomach as he politely nodded along to whatever Junmyeon was animatedly saying. The beer bottle Jungwoo cradled, now forgotten, seemed more like an accessory than an actual beverage. He caught your eye and sent you a frantic look.
You whipped your head back to Jaehyun. “Please don’t let her take me.” 
Surely, he could see the pleading, the desperation in your eyes.
Jaehyun, having witnessed the whole exchange between you and Jungwoo, only grinned. “It does sound like some serious business,” he said, cheeks dimpling. Joy made a noise of agreement and gave your arm a little tug.
“You’re more than welcome to come and spectate, Jaehyun,” she called out over her shoulder as she herded you towards her destination. His only response was a hearty laugh. You stared at him in despair as you were towed away by the birthday girl. Next time you’d invite his boss to the function.
The game of darts (or seven games, if you were being precise) was decidedly less awful than you had expected. Junmyeon had promised not to speak about work and by some miracle, actually stuck to his word. Maybe you even got to know the guy a little better, outside of his office habits like the specific order in which he drank his three teas everyday (yuja, then chamomile, and lastly peppermint). Like you, he was somewhat of a wine enthusiast, though his knowledge of French vineyards was far superior to yours. 
By the third round, the game had clearly left your little work circle. Jaehyun joined in at one point, competitiveness getting the better of him. Doyoung tried his hand too, and he was honestly abysmal, but smiled the whole time and seemed to be enjoying himself, even if he had to pick the darts off the floor on every turn. Out of all the players over the course of the seven games, Junmyeon’s date Irene had been the most unexpected hidden card, scoring three bullseyes in a row. 
Oh, to be a goddess and have perfect hand-eye coordination. 
“You feeling okay?” you asked a rather blank-looking Jungwoo. His eyes were beginning to droop, and so was the rest of his body, long limbs sprawled out against the leather. You could swear he only had his initial bottle of beer and the two celebratory soju shots Joy had forced him to take (from which you were not exempt either), and yet here he was, half-asleep on the couch.
“Hmm,” was his eloquent reply.
The party was slowly drawing to a close, the living room much emptier now than it had been when you first walked in. Junmyeon and Irene had made their departure some twenty minutes ago, and there were only a handful of guests left, most of them getting ready to leave as well. Grown adults didn’t gamble with their sleep schedules. 
Doyoung emerged from the hallway, running a hand through the mess of hair on top of his head, already tousled from the fifty or so times he had repeated the action throughout the night.
“Okay, she’s knocked out,” he sighed. On his face, you glimpsed the first sign of relief you had seen all night. “I don’t think she’s going to puke, but I left a bucket by the bed just in case.”
You flashed him a grateful smile. “Thank you for tonight. I can’t imagine it was easy having to wrangle all these people for so long.”
“Oh, it’s no big deal. As long as Joy’s happy and had a good time.” 
Even though he was clearly exhausted, Doyoung smiled, and the fondness held within it felt like a private thing you shouldn’t have witnessed. Your mind went, now as it always did, to a certain dimpled smile.
“I’d better get this one home,” you said instead, gesturing at Jungwoo slumped on the couch. You turned towards the boy, patting his shoulder gently. “Come on, time to go.”
“Mmffh.” 
Another brilliant and enlightening response.
The owner of your favourite dimpled smile stepped out from the bathroom to the sight of you struggling to get Jungwoo upright enough to loop an arm around your shoulders. The half-asleep boy was lean, but definitely heavier than he looked, or perhaps the few glasses of wine over the course of the night had sapped some of the strength from your body. Jaehyun was at your side in an instant, shouldering most of Jungwoo’s weight as the two of you dragged him to a standing position.
“I’ll come with you,” he said, no room for discussion in his tone. You had no mind to protest anyway. 
Doyoung was already busying himself with clearing plates and glasses from the living area when Jaehyun bid him farewell. The guy seemed to have formulated a detailed plan of attack to get his apartment back to the no-doubt spotless state it had been prior to tonight.
“I sorted out most of the empty bottles so you should be able to just throw them out in the morning,” Jaehyun said over his shoulder. He crouched on the ground, guiding Jungwoo’s disobedient left foot into the correct shoe, carefully doing up the laces once both feet were inside their corresponding sneakers. 
You tossed a glance back at Doyoung whizzing around the place like a Roomba, feeling a pang of guilt for not having done much to help him clean up. Even though you had been a much more gracious and tidy guest than other people in Joy’s company, you couldn’t help but feel like there was more you could’ve done, apart from babysitting a very not-sober Jungwoo and making sure he didn’t crack his head open on the corner of the coffee table. 
“It’s fine,” Jaehyun said softly. You turned to look at him, half-surprised, and he only flashed you a small smile. “Doyoung likes to clean. I think he finds comfort in it.”
He was fluent as ever in your micro-expressions. Maybe one day you’d learn to stop being surprised by it. 
The taxi back to Jungwoo’s place was shorter than you had expected. His head lolled between your shoulder and Jaehyun’s in the backseat, before finally finding a home in Jaehyun’s lap. Even when you finally tucked the younger boy safely into his own bed — after going to great lengths to extract his building code which involved a series of profuse apologies to his neighbours who you had mistakenly rung in the middle of the night — there was an impressive imprint on his right cheek that exactly matched the side seam on Jaehyun’s jeans. You could’ve sworn there was a small, wet patch of drool left behind on the denim, and you were sure Jaehyun himself had noticed it too, but he gave no indication of complaint.
“Are you far from here?” Jaehyun asked once the elevator had brought the both of you back down to Jungwoo’s lobby.
“I’m actually just a fifteen minute walk away,” you answered.
The invitation in your voice was silent, and you knew he would’ve accompanied you home even if you lived on the other side of the city. Still, some achingly pleasant emotion settled over you when you heard his footsteps fall in with yours against the pavement. He took his place between you and the open street, shielding you from the bustle of late night delivery bikes and club bound taxis.
Though the days still resembled summer, nights were when the beginnings of autumn could reveal itself. The slight chill in the air was not unbearable, but still noticeable against your bare arms, and just enough for goosebumps to spring up on the skin there. Before you could even bring your hands up to wrap them around yourself, Jaehyun shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, drawing the collar close around your neck. The stiff denim was a little rough, but warm from his body heat all the same, with faint traces of his woody scent lingering on the fabric.
Jaehyun thrust his hands in his pockets and grinned. “Now you out-Justin-Timberlake me.”
“Still not a real word.”
You supposed there was something about night-time that made it feel all the more forgiving to the emotional afflictions of the human condition. Perhaps it was only against the muted palette of the midnight blue sky and the dimly lit city streets that you felt brave enough to face the truth of your feelings, without agonising over the consequences of acknowledging them. Even so, you found yourself wishing the night would stretch on for just a little longer. Honesty always seemed to wear off faster than it came on.
“You’ve been crazy busy lately.”
Jaehyun’s responding laugh contained little amusement. “Crazy busy is one way to put it. I can’t believe Johnny has had to deal with all of this the whole time. This client is so,” he paused, trying to find the right word, before finally settling on “demanding.” The look in his eyes gave you the feeling there were many other more colourful adjectives he wanted to use instead.
The two of you passed the convenience store corner of your street. Your place was not too far up ahead, the glass building doors almost visible if you squinted. The night was coming to an end, and something cold and heavy settled in your chest to accompany the realisation.
“They want us in New York working on the new client site as soon as possible, so we’ve been running around trying to get visas and everything sorted,” he sighed. 
Your footsteps faltered. 
“You’re going to New York?” you asked. 
He nodded. 
“When?”
“Within the next week, if everything comes back approved.”
You hadn’t even noticed that you had come to a standstill until Jaehyun’s footsteps also slowed to a stop. The both of you stood like that, under the dim glow from the streetlights, in the middle of the sidewalk. 
“We’ll probably be there until the end of the year, at least until the design piece is done,” he said. 
Did your face betray the sudden drop of your stomach? Did the sound of a fissure cracking through your chest escape through the slight parting of your lips?
It was silly, really. That one small piece of information could turn your entire world on its head. International travel on a project wasn’t a rare occurrence. And you supposed you would’ve found out sooner or later, even if he hadn’t told you, because he had no obligation to update you about every development in his life, even if they involved crossing continents. Even if you wanted to know every little detail. 
Jaehyun’s eyes moved from his shoes to your face. The shadows cast by the streetlights made it hard to decipher his expression, but you thought there was a pleading look to his handsome face. What he was pleading for, you weren’t entirely sure. 
You cleared your throat and finally found your voice again. “That’s really exciting, Jaehyun,” you managed, trying to keep your tone light. “I hear New York is gorgeous this time of year.”
The smile you pasted on your face was a flimsy one, and you could feel your top lip begin to tremble when he didn’t quite return it. Before it could turn into a grimace, you let the corners of your mouth fall. There had never been any use in putting on an act in front of him. Unsure what else to say without sounding insincere — though you were excited for him, truly, this little fit of sadness was a silly thing that would pass surely and quickly — you turned and resumed your steps towards your apartment. 
Another few minutes and you’d be in the safety of your own home. Free to let your top lip tremble and quiver, and let the inexplicable lump in your throat force its way out, rather than try to swallow it down.
It only took a few steps for you to realise that Jaehyun had not followed. You looked over your shoulder to find him standing there by the streetlight, eyes fixed on the ground again. 
“I don’t want to go,” he said, toeing at a crack in the concrete. “If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t. I don’t want to leave…”
You.
He may not have said that last word, but you heard it all the same. Your chest squeezed with emotion you couldn’t quite place.
“But you have to,” you said softly. A gentle breeze blew through the early autumn air and you briefly wondered if your words had been carried adrift.
He looked up at you then, eyes burning into yours with unspoken sentiments. A thousand words were conveyed with that one look, those few seconds in which you understood everything he wanted to say, and nothing he wanted to say, because he hadn’t said much at all. Just like how he could read your emotions with a simple glance at your face, you saw his reluctance. You saw the irresolution in his resolve, and how it wavered as he turned over in his mind the things he wanted to say to you, and how much of his heart he was willing to risk. 
“But I have to,” he agreed. 
Jaehyun still knew you inside out, yes, but you knew him too.
Your feet dragged over the last few hundred metres to your apartment complex, until you finally reached the door and there was nothing left you could do to delay the inevitable.
“Here,” you said, handing his jacket back to him. “Thank you for walking me home.”
He took it from your outstretched hand, fingers just brushing your knuckles. “Of course.”
And maybe Jaehyun was just as unwilling to let you go. His feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete pavement in front of your building, even though you were pretty sure no harm would befall you across the five steps into the lobby. The two of you stood there for a while, neither quite knowing what to say, or how to ward off the odd melancholy you knew he felt too.
There were so few guarantees of forever in life. You knew that. And even if you had never really gotten him back in the first place, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing him again. Except this time, he wouldn’t just be a 67-minute subway ride away. This time, he’d be a 14-hour flight away, on the other side of not the city but the world, with 7,000 miles and the entire Pacific Ocean separating you. 
And yes, he’d come back eventually, but who could promise that the feelings between the two of you now would be the same upon his return? You knew that you were in no position to demand he refrain from exploring other romantic pursuits, to deter him from making new connections in the diverse metropolis that was New York City, and all the excitement and energy that came with it. 
You had unknowingly gotten in the way of that once.
“Well, I’d better get inside,” you said quietly, gesturing at the building behind you. Jaehyun only nodded.
This was it. All things must come to an end, you thought as you walked up to the lobby door. Even if they never really started. Perhaps you and your hesitance to let him in had played the biggest part of all, and whatever it was between you and Jaehyun wouldn’t be ending before it began if you had only been more forgiving at the start. Less pointy and disagreeable. Perhaps then you would be parting now on more certain terms, and you’d carry some peace of mind knowing he’d be coming back to you, instead of the crushing weight of disappointment currently lodged underneath your sternum.
And yet, what difference did it make? You’d be losing him anyway, no matter what you did. In two weeks’ time, he’d be sitting in a conference room on a different continent, regardless of whether you said nothing or cussed him out to his face right now.
Your hand froze on the steel handle for only a second before you turned around to face him again. Three determined strides was all it took to close the distance between you. 
“What is it?” he asked.
There had been few occasions where you had seen Jaehyun drunk, or at least not sober, in the years you had known him. Your split early on in university had not afforded you many chances to witness his supposedly high tolerance in action at weekend benders. Nothing more than a few underage sips snuck from his dad’s glass at the dinner table. You took a second now to look at him, really look at him, taking in all the details of the face you knew almost as well as your own. 
Pink. Everything about him was so pink, from the slight tinge around the whites of his eyes, to the lingering flush in the apples of his cheeks.
To the pretty colour of his soft, full lips. 
They parted with confusion when you approached. Carefully, you reached out a hand and placed it against his cheek, feeling the way he leaned into your touch almost immediately. His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of moments before they were searching your face again, almost fervently. 
“I just…” you whispered, trying to commit this picture of him to memory. 
What difference did it make?
It was hard to tell who moved first. You’d like to believe it didn’t matter.
The rhythm of your lips against his was unfamiliar at first, clumsy from years of disuse. Through slow and careful movements, you reacquainted yourself with the shape of Jaehyun’s mouth, the pillowy swell of his bottom lip as it gently slid in between your own. It fit there perfectly, like it always did. His hands came up to graze the curve of your waist, resting lightly on your skin as if he was afraid you’d crumble like sand in his grasp. 
You tilted your head, parting your mouth ever so slightly to let the tip of your tongue brush against the underside of his top lip. The kiss changed immediately. You felt his surprise in the small puff of air that escaped through his nose and landed softly against your cheek. His fingers gripped at you with a newfound strength, pulling you flush against him. Even through the fabric of your shirts, the outline of his toned chest was unmistakable. Your hands found their home in the softness of hair at the nape of his neck, revelling in the throaty sound that left him as you ran your hands through it. 
How had you denied yourself of this for so long?
Jaehyun must have pulled away first, because suddenly you could breathe again, shaky gasps coming in and out through your mouth. He fared no better, pressing his forehead gently against yours while he tried to catch his breath.
You couldn’t think. You felt electrified, as if every nerve ending in your body was simultaneously firing, as if your blood was laced with dynamite. Hell, you had half a mind to invite him up to your room and finish off what you had so brazenly started.
“It’s late,” he finally managed, voice rough. “You should head in.” His hands, however, stayed firmly in place around your waist. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with each swallow.
Right. Perhaps it was best to let the night end here, before you could do anything else that you might regret. 
“Yeah, I should probably,” you murmured, catching the way his eyes followed each movement of your mouth as you spoke. The sound of your voice seemed to break the daze he was in, and you felt his grip on you loosen, slowly and reluctantly. The arms you had looped around his neck made their way back to your sides. You were released from his warmth far too quickly.
Impulsive decisions (like inviting your ex-boyfriend to spend the night in your one-bedroom apartment with nowhere to sleep except in your bed) seldom ended well. You should’ve known better than to make those rookie mistakes.
You had barely turned around to walk up to your building doors when Jaehyun wrapped a warm hand around your wrist and pulled you back into him. He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing the small noise of surprise that left your mouth. This time, his kiss was softer, surer, and in it you tasted the sweetness of unspoken promises he was determined to keep. 
“I’ll see you when I get back,” he said, dark eyes fixed on you with conviction. Your lip colour had smudged by the side of his mouth, leaving behind a faint pink stain that only added to the pretty hue of his now kiss-swollen lips. 
He was still the most gorgeous person you had ever seen. 
“See you when you’re back, then,” you echoed. 
Some odd emotion, neither happy nor sad, settled in your chest as you pushed open the door to the emptiness of your home. You had rushed to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun before he left, only to find he had gone already, and the sidewalk outside your building was as vacant as to be expected for this hour of the night.
No matter. You’d wait for him to come back. 
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“One more prosecco before he disappears to the bathroom for the rest of the night.”
You cast a glance at the catering table and clicked your tongue against your teeth.
“Half a prosecco,” you concluded, taking a sip from your own glass. 
Joy raised a shapely eyebrow at you. “You know it doesn’t hit until at least twenty minutes after he gets the munchies.”
“True, but he specifically told me he skipped lunch today so it would hit earlier, and he’d have the energy to mingle.”
“Well,” she shrugged, “I guess that’d do it.”
The two of you turned your gazes back to the catering table, where Jungwoo was doing some serious damage to the salmon ceviche tostadas. The glass in his hand was empty, and you watched as he asked for a refill from one of the waitstaff.
“Someone should really stop him,” Joy sighed. “Before we get a repeat of last year.”
“Someone should,” you agreed.
Neither of you made a move.
As far as year-end wrap-up events went, this one wasn’t too bad, even if it was your first at the company. This year, HR had managed to book one of the smaller function rooms at an upscale hotel, with an open bar and hors d’oeuvres menu to match. It was a nice chance to celebrate the year’s achievements, and get to know the other people in the department a little better. Already a year in this place, and you’d be lying if you said you knew the name of every person on your floor.
September to November had flown by in a blur. Recruitment for the company’s graduate program next year had been an intensive few months of screening, interviewing, reviewing, and then interviewing again. As hectic as it had been, the fruits of your team’s efforts had been warmly recognised with smiles and praises from the senior managers and higher-ups you’d had the chance to speak with tonight. 
Traditionally, each department hosted their own event, though from what you gathered, HR and Marketing were the only ones that put in any real effort. While HR liked to keep things classy, Marketing liked to go all out.
“Do you think it’s true that Marketing rented out a yacht this year?” you asked. Surely their budget wasn’t that excessive.
Joy made a face. “God, I hope not. It’s the middle of December. I’d be surprised if the Han River wasn’t all frozen over.”
Winter had come early this year, sinking its cold fingers into November and staking its claim. Yet, there had been no snow, even though it was only a few days out from the holidays. Though it was nice that your clothes stayed relatively dry all day from the lack of precipitation, you couldn’t help but miss the sight of the city covered in a blanket of white softness. 
“There he goes,” Joy said, nudging your arm. You turned to see Jungwoo excuse himself from the conversation, setting down a barely-touched glass on the tablecloth. He made a beeline for the men’s restrooms, or as close to a beeline as he could manage in his current state, face flushed and a little queasy.
It was a good thing the company’s holiday closure started tomorrow.
“Okay, you win. Want to come and get a refill with me?” she asked. “We can say hi to a few of the directors over there.”
The thought of having to network with more seniors, when you had already spent the last hour and a half donning bright smiles and laughing politely at their lacklustre jokes, was not a pleasant one. You knew it would be a good thing for you to go and introduce yourself, but your battery for social interaction had long since been depleted. Perhaps you should’ve taken a page out of Jungwoo’s book.
Still, you flashed Joy a grateful smile. “You go ahead. I might grab some air, actually.”
“Okay,” she replied, eyes warm with understanding. “But make sure you put your coat on. It’s freezing out there.”
She was right, of course. The toasty interior of the function room was a completely different world from the frigid gust of wind that greeted you as soon as you pulled the sliding door open. An upscale hotel needed to have a matching upscale view of the city. You leaned against the balcony railing, blocking out the icy sting of the metal against your hands, and took in the sight of the not-quite-frozen Han River below, and the sparkling Seoul Tower further away on the skyline.
You’d only be out here for a little bit, you told yourself. Just a few minutes, and then you’d head home.
Truthfully, you could have left half an hour ago when your reserves for socialising had just run out, and be within the warm and familiar confines of your own bed right now, doom-scrolling to your heart’s content. But these days, the solitude of your apartment that you had once found comforting had evolved into a loneliness that you’d rather avoid. 
The empty echoes of your own footsteps across the tiled floors didn’t bounce against the walls like deep laughter did.
Absent-mindedly, you thumbed at the pendant sitting at the hollow of your throat. You had turned your jewellery box inside out, almost fully convinced that you had lost the thing entirely until you finally spotted the milky pearl set in white gold, underneath all the other chains. It was gorgeous when you had first opened the velvet box all those years ago, and it still was now, even if you hadn’t seen it for quite some time. Jaehyun always had an eye for beautiful things.
You weren’t the only one who endured a few packed and chaotic months. Johnny’s team had flown out of the country the Wednesday after Joy’s birthday and had been sequestered in New York ever since. Between your swamped schedules and the 14 hour time difference, conversations with Jaehyun were intermittent at best, and sparse and uncoordinated at worst. Sometimes he’d message with silly little things, like the time he sent you a picture of a doll sitting in the window of an antique shop.
this reminded me of you, the accompanying text had said.
He was due back soon, and there was still much left to be said, but above all, you only hoped that he was well, and that the New York winter was much more forgiving than it was here at home.
The cloudy wisps of air formed by your breath floated upwards before they dissipated into the night sky. No wonder the balcony was empty — who would want to be out here when there were mozzarella stuffed mushrooms and central heating on the other side of the glass?
You heard the doors slide open behind you as someone else equally as crazy decided to step out into the cold. Just as well. It was time for you to head back anyways. You turned to make your way inside, only to freeze in your tracks.
“They told me I’d find you out here. You really know how to pick a spot, huh?”
A soft gasp left your mouth.
“Jaehyun?”
He gave you a smile, your favourite smile, where his dimples were only just visible, and there was the hint of a pout to the shape of his lips. He was here, and he was in front of you, looking at you like you were the most wonderful thing in the world that he would ever have the good fortune of knowing. Your chest swelled almost painfully at the sight of him.
“When did you get back? How did you even get in here?”
“We landed in Incheon earlier this afternoon. I had to pay the door guy outside a hundred bucks for him to let me in.”
Your eyes widened. “He can’t make you do that!”
“Just kidding,” Jaehyun chuckled. “I only had to show him my company ID.”
He walked over to where you stood by the railing and rested his arms against the metal. His profile was sharp against the darkness of the night sky, and you took a moment to study the details while he took in the view. 
“Are you tired?” you asked. “It can’t be easy adjusting to the time difference.”
“A little,” he admitted. The bags under his eyes were dark and purple now that you could see his face up close. He must have been exhausted. Nobody ever slept well on long haul flights. “You should see Johnny though. He would have come tonight, but jet lag is seriously kicking his ass.”
You shared a laugh, traces of your breaths mingling in the air. Beside him, you settled back into your original spot, mirroring the way he leaned against the metal railing. Jaehyun was close, but not too close, your elbows only a few centimetres apart. A mellow silence settled over the balcony as you gazed out at the river, watching the never-ending stream of cars as they circled the waterfront. 
With even this, you were content. His mere presence next to you was a remedy in itself, regardless of the words shared or touches exchanged. You felt more at home in this moment now than you had in over 3 months.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, still gazing out into the distance. The gravity in his voice hinted at circumstances beyond the recent season he had spent on the other side of the world. And yet, he had said it so simply, as if the words were an immovable truth that would withstand the corrosion of time.
“I’ve missed you too,” you replied.
Maybe it was just that simple, because it was the truth. The nights weathered away in your own apartment were only lonely because there had been an absence of him, an absence that was known to you, even if you had not felt it for many years.
He turned to you, taking in a shaky breath. “I should never have let you go.”
“Oh, Jaehyun—”
“I was young, and foolish, and I thought I knew what I wanted. And I had you, but I thought I wanted more, because I wanted everything. I wanted the whole damn world.”
Something sharp pricked behind your eyes as you listened to the honesty pouring out of him.
“And then I lost you, and it was—god, it was… like someone had sucked all the colour out of my life. And I had no one to blame, because I was the one who did that to myself. To us.”
It was so hard to not notice the pain etched into his beautiful features. The tight set of his jaw. The redness that rimmed his eyes. Your fingers ached to reach over and smooth out the crease between his brows.
“There were so many things I could have done to make things right between us again. Even if you wouldn’t have me back. But my pride, and my ego… I did nothing—”
“You can’t pin it all on yourself, Jaehyun,” you said, shaking your head. “I had no idea what I wanted. And even when I did, I never acted—I never stood up for myself. I could’ve fought for us, but I didn’t. I just accepted everything. Hell, I never even told you how I felt.”
You flashed him a watery smile. “We needed the time away from each other, don’t you think?” 
There was a moment where the two of you simply stared at each other. A hurricane of repressed emotions swirled in your chest, finally breaking the surface five years on. Jaehyun must have felt the same, reliving all those memories now. You could see it on his face.
Youth was so beautiful, and precious — even the heartbreak, and all the other foolish things that came along with it. 
“I let you go once, and maybe that was meant to happen.” He took a step closer. “But we’re not dumb teenagers anymore. I’m not… I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
His eyes locked on yours as he gazed at you with reverence. “Don’t you still feel the same? Even after all these years?”
I do, you wanted to say. 
You would have too, if it weren’t for the small speck of white that landed in Jaehyun’s dark hair. It was visible for only a few seconds before melting away. You looked up and sure enough, the night sky was dotted with white.
“First snow,” you breathed, watching as the snowflakes fell from the sky. “Do you know what that means?”
Jaehyun gave you a small shake of his head. Of course. He never believed in superstitions.
You reached for his hand, feeling his fingers respond to yours immediately. He was so warm, and his touch breathed life back into your frozen body.
“If you see the first snow with someone you love, it means that your love will be true and long-lasting.”
A few seconds passed as he took in your words, trying to make sense of them.
“You… love me?”
“I do,” you admitted. A teardrop finally spilled out from your waterline, leaving behind a wet track on your cheek that stung in the cold. “Even when I thought I hated you, deep down, I think I still loved you.”
One of his hands came up to wipe away the trail of moisture from the escaped tear. The action sent a shiver through your entire body.
“I never stopped loving you,” he confessed softly, stroking your cheek. You felt it then, that deep, aching feeling that had threaded itself into the very marrow of your bones. 
Longing. You longed for his presence, his smile, his touch. You longed to hold his heart in your hands again, and give him yours in exchange. You had missed him more than you could bear, and here he was, telling you his heart was where it had always been, sitting in the centre of your palm. 
Perfect moments didn’t exist, but damn did this one come close.
“Come here,” Jaehyun whispered, pulling you into him. 
His mouth was just as sweet as you remembered. His lips were a little rougher, slightly chapped from the cold. His kiss was slow and patient, taking his time to explore the shape of your mouth and mould to it again. You felt his smile, the slight tension in his bottom lip giving him away, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, a quiet giggle bubbling in your chest before escaping through your lips. 
“I really fucking missed you,” you mumbled against his mouth, another giggle accompanying the words. “You kissed me and then you were on a plane to the other side of the world.” 
“I told you I’d see you when I was back, didn’t I?” he reminded, giving your waist a small squeeze. “And for the record, you kissed me. Not that it matters.”
You swatted a hand against his chest. “I see you still care too much about technicalities.”
Jaehyun only laughed, that deep and familiar sound you had craved to hear for the last 3 months. He pulled your hands into his warm ones, and pressed his lips to your knuckles. 
“Your hands are cold,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around yours. 
“Well, I was about to head back inside when you found me. It’s nice and toasty in there.”
“Do you want to go in now?”
You looped your arms around his neck and buried your head into the crook of it. “Let’s just stay out here for a little bit longer,” you said, words muffled by the fabric of his coat. “You always run hot in the colder months anyways. Enough to keep me warm.”
He hummed in agreement, holding you flush against him as the snow fell around you. In his arms, you were the most at ease you had been in years, and the thought was almost enough to bring a fresh new wave of moisture to your eyes. 
“What is that—something’s digging in,” he suddenly said, pulling away from you. His eyes landed on the pendant that had slipped out from underneath the lapels of your coat. Wordlessly, he reached for it, running his thumb across the pale pearl that hung from your neck. 
“You kept this?” 
“Of course,” you answered. “You kept yours.”
He smiled, a big one, dimples marking his cheeks. “Of course,” he repeated. 
“We’re lucky, aren’t we? To have found each other again after all this time?”
Jaehyun’s reply took the form of another sweet and unhurried kiss. It warmed you from the inside out, all the way down to the tips of your toes.
“So we’re really doing this, right?” he asked. “We’re giving us a second chance?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you said all that earlier just for shits and giggles?”
“Of course not,” he chuckled, squeezing your sides again. “I just wanted to make sure. I think I might lose faith in the world if you tell me you don’t want to be with me.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” you reassured. The snow was sticking to his hair, and you took a second to run your hands through it, brushing off the half-melted pieces. His eyes fondly followed your every movement.
“Good, because I plan on keeping you for a long time.”
You returned inside shortly after. The snow had picked up and it was clear that you couldn’t stay out for much longer (unless you wanted hypothermia, which neither of you did). The function hall was much emptier now than it had been when you stepped out, and of the remaining faces, none of them were familiar. 
A quick glance at your phone showed a few unread messages from Joy. 
joy [08:32 pm]: hey, had to leave, doyoung’s still working tomorrow so it’s an early night for me joy [08:33 pm]: hope you and jaehyun work things out joy [08:33 pm]: i’m rooting for you guys!!
joy [08:37 pm]: also can you see if jungwoo is okay joy [08:38 pm]: i don’t think he’s come out yet
“Can I ask a favour, just before we go?”
Jaehyun smiled back at you sweetly, devotion written in his eyes. “Anything.”
“Pop into the men’s room and check if Jungwoo’s still alive?”
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Life was a funny thing. 
“There are so few things in life that are guaranteed. Death, for one, and taxes, for another. Sorry if that was a bit dark and killed the mood. You can laugh, by the way. But I think everyone here would agree, neither of those two are all that conducive to happiness.”
Roundabout. 
“So when the girl you’ve been chasing, for what feels like an eternity, finally gives you a second chance, you absolutely cannot take it for granted. You grab onto that chance with both hands, and even your teeth if you have to. It’s no guarantee for happiness, but it’s your best bet.”
Unpredictable. 
“I’m not a God-fearing man, but I’m a God-believing man. I thank God everyday for bringing such a magnificent woman into my life.”
He raised his glass. 
“Joy, you make me the happiest person in the world, and I can’t wait to be married to you.”
The crowd broke into warm applause as Doyoung finished off his impromptu speech by planting a kiss on his bride-to-be.
“He’s so good at talking,” you mused, wrapping your arm around Jaehyun’s. “If that’s his toast for this, I wonder what his vows will be like.”
A year ago, you would never have believed that you’d be attending your co-worker’s engagement party, much less with your ex-boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years. Spring had well and truly arrived, and with it came promises of love and new beginnings. The last rays of the April afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of the riverside art centre. The venue was gorgeous, floating on the edge of the river with unobstructed views of the skyline and where it met the water — as always, Joy knew how to pick a spot.
“I didn’t know she rejected him before they got together. He must have really liked her.”
Jaehyun gave you a crooked smile. “Four years of university, and he never gave up. Even when she started dating that blockhead from liberal arts.”
“I bet he would’ve felt like the luckiest guy in the world when she finally said yes to a date,” you said, watching as the happy couple shared a moment, giggling about something nobody else was privy to. Jaehyun followed your gaze and made a small noise of agreement.
“Not as lucky as I am to have found you again.”
He ran his thumb across your knuckles. You could’ve sworn there was stardust sprinkled into those pretty brown eyes of his.
Life was a funny thing, for sure. It had a funny way of bringing back things you once thought you had lost forever. You knew now that you had to seize them before they passed by. Who knew if they’d ever turn up again?
“Okay, that’s enough.”
Jungwoo set his glass down on the table with a loud thunk, lightly startling you.
“I’m right here. You guys know that, right? I am right in front of you.”
A sheepish smile was thrown his way. “Sorry.” You patted his hand once, softly. “Your time will come, I’m sure of it,” you reassured. “How did the date with the KU Business girl go?”
“I flaked,” Jungwoo said simply.
“No! Why?”
He sighed. “Blind dates are really not my thing. It’s too awkward. And it feels so superficial. Like, what if you have nothing in common, or there’s no physical attraction, or—” 
Jungwoo paused, cutting himself off. “Actually, I’m not talking about this with you people. I’m going to get another drink.” With that, he turned and headed straight for the cocktail bar. You and Jaehyun gazed at him from behind as he walked off.
“I’m gonna be babysitting him again tonight, aren’t I?” Jaehyun asked, the question directed at nobody in particular.
“People are going to start wondering if you’re dating me or him.”
His mouth curled into a smirk. “Should I give them a reminder?”
“My boss is standing right over there, so no.”
Junmyeon and Irene were still going steady, to your surprise. You’d probably be seeing more and more of him, since Joy and the rest of the Parks genuinely treated Irene like one of their own. The thought wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but not awful either. Maybe you were warming up to him.
“Also, you should probably be careful about who you call blockhead,” you said to Jaehyun, holding back a smile.
He fixed you with a suspicious stare. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know,” you trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his head. The smile broke through, your cheeks lifting as you tried to keep the laughter from coming out. He, on the other hand, was thoroughly unimpressed.
“You should really watch your mouth,” he said lowly, though he was smiling. There was a look in his eyes that sent a jolt straight to the pit of your stomach.
“Or what?”
His hands were all over you before you even made it through the door.
“My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy girlfriend,” he mumbled, peppering your neck with kisses between each adjective. The keypad finally beeped and you pushed down on the handle, letting the door swing open as you pulled him in by the collar.
“Stop talking and just kiss me,” you sighed, dragging his face back up to yours. He was all too eager to comply, mouth slotting over yours with practised ease. His tongue brushed along yours in the way he knew you liked, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure. Fire licked at your insides as he drew a light moan from you.
Four months in, the second time around, and everything with Jaehyun was still electrifying.  
Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally succeeding with undoing the top one after a few tries. Hands came up around the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto his kitchen countertop. The marble was cool to the touch, and you felt it through the silk of your dress, a soft gasp of surprise flying from your mouth into his awaiting one.
“Been wanting to do this all day, ever since you put this thing on,” Jaehyun rasped. The heat of his body radiated into you from where he stood between your parted legs. He was so warm up against you, and he smelled so good, you were positively light-headed with desire.
His mouth ghosted over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “You look so fucking good,” he said, teeth gently grazing the skin of your neck. “My pretty girl.” The quick press of his hips into yours pulled another moan out of you, and you braced a hand against the marble countertop.
Your fingers knocked against the edge of something sharp and sent it tumbling to the floor, where it landed with a heavier thud than you were expecting.
“What was that?” you forced out in between gasps. Jaehyun’s teeth nipped at your collarbone, showing no signs of letting up. “Wait, Jae, something fell on the floor.”
You had smashed a mug in your apartment in the midst of it once. Better safe than sorry.
Reluctantly, Jaehyun detached himself from you and bent down to retrieve the fallen item. He was breathing hard as he picked up a thick, padded envelope, and flipped it over to read the details.
“Photos,” he finally managed, tossing the package back onto the counter. “We can look at them later.”
His mouth was on you again, working at the spot between your neck and shoulder that always had your knees weak and toes curling. 
“Wait,” you giggled, “my film photos? I want to see.” He had sent the camera off almost two weeks ago, and you had been (im)patiently waiting for the developed pictures to be sent back. 
Jaehyun looked up at you with hooded eyes. “Really? You want to look at them now?”
You nodded. 
A beat passed before his face broke into a lazy smile. 
“Okay,” he chuckled softly, reaching for the envelope again. 
There was a good stack in there. The ones on top were more recent, with a few shots from his birthday that had recently passed. You had taken him ice skating at the outdoor rink atop Namsan Mountain. The twinkling lights that hung from the trees surrounding the rink were still beautiful, even through photos. Jaehyun was good at so many things that it was unfair — how could he be so talented and have a face like that? — but on that day, you discovered that ice skating was not one of his strengths, and the bruises on his tailbone could attest to that. 
“The colouring on these is really nice,” you murmured, flicking through the photos.
He hummed. “They are. This place doesn’t over-saturate the images, which is why I like them.”
A few more pictures from Christmas, where the two of you had set up a pillow fort — it had always been a childhood dream of yours — and stayed in watching movies for three whole days because it was too cold to do anything that required leaving the house. Funnily enough though, you had spent New Year’s Eve out in the cold with a few thousand others, waiting for the annual fireworks. There were a few shots of those as well. 
You neared the bottom of the stack, recognising the blur of colours that formed the crowd of the jazz festival from last year.
“All of these are out of focus,” you complained, a pout adorning your lips. The shots of the stage, of the artists, even the one of Jaehyun and the cute face he made trying to fit the burger in his mouth. Only the two pictures of you were crisply defined, because he had taken them. 
You flipped to the last photo. It was the one you took at the end of the show, during the closing bars of Lauv’s set. Miraculously, this one was in focus. You could see the press of your cheek against Jaehyun’s, and the slight surprise in his eyes as you had clicked the shutter. Lauv was nowhere to be seen, but maybe a clear shot of him as well would have been asking for too much. 
“Can I say something cheesy?” Jaehyun asked softly. 
“You’ll say it anyway.”
“I really wanted to kiss you. On this day.”
Strange, that it was these words which brought heat to your cheeks. Surely there were other things that would be more appropriate to blush about, instead of a months-late admission that was degrees more innocent than your current situation, where Jaehyun’s shirt was half undone, and the fabric of your dress was bunched up around your hips. 
“I wanted to kiss you right there, in the crowd. And then I wanted to kiss you again, here, when you made that stupid ramen joke. And when you had that chilli flake stuck on the corner of your mouth.”
You set the last photo down on the counter and turned back to Jaehyun, who was still standing between your knees. 
“And how about now?” you asked, the corners of your mouth lifting in a teasing smile. 
He cradled your chin, tilting your face towards his, and let the pad of his thumb brush over the swell of your bottom lip. 
“I think you already know the answer to that.”
The crescent moon was high and luminescent in the sky when you caught your breath again, the last few waves of euphoria ebbing away through your body. Jaehyun always indulged you.
Maybe a little too much. 
You turned to him, nestling your face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of soap and his skin. A finger lazily traced over the ridges of his stomach. 
“That tickles,” he mumbled into your hair. It must’ve still been damp from the shower, but he didn’t seem to mind. Fatigue was already tugging away at him. 
“Do you want me to stop?” you asked softly, looking up at him. 
He shook his head, just slightly. “I like knowing you’re there.”
You resumed your movements, but it was only a few seconds before Jaehyun was shifting, soft laughs filling the intimate space of his bedroom.  
“That really does tickle,” he said, smile threaded into his voice. One of his hands reached for yours, pulling it up to rest against his chest. The gentle press of his lips on your forehead was a delicate thing. 
You fell asleep like that, feeling the steady beat of his heart, quiet and sure beneath your fingertips. It was warm in his hold, and safe. There was no other home you needed to know.
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adrienneleclerc · 5 months ago
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Heyy can you write an oneshot of charles dating andrea (his personal trainer) daughter and how andrea would react
Ooh YES!! Imagine the drama, I love it. I hope this is what you wanted and if I wasn’t, hope you liked it anyway!
My Trainer’s Daughter
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari! Reader
Summary: Charles is dating Y/N Ferrari, the daughter of Andrea, in secret
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors.
A/N: i have loved getting requests from everyone, feel free to request any more ideas. And yes, the title is unoriginal, I know, I couldn’t think of anything.
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The day Charles met Y/N Ferrari was a day he would never forget. It was when he was doing his winter training for the 2023 F1 season. He was supposed to meet Andrea at the training camp so he was surprised when he saw a woman he has never seen before on the treadmill.
“Excuse me, did you know you are trespassing?” Charles asked, Y/N stopped her treadmill and took off her headphones.
“Che cosa?” Y/N asked
“Stai sconfinando, vattene prima che chiami la sicurezza.” Charles threatened in Italian. The woman rolled her eyes and when Charles was about to say something, Andrea appeared.
“Ah Charles, i see you have met my daughter, Y/N.” Andrea said, gesturing at Y/N who smiled like she has won.
“I didn’t know you had a daughter. What is she doing here?” Charles asked.
“She was in Italy, I haven’t seen her since she moved out so I invited her. I hope you don’t mind.” Andrea said.
“But I’m supposed to film some shots for my blog.” Charles said.
“Calmati, bambola, i promise not to get in the way. You could always crop me out if that’s what you want.” Y/N said.
“Oh so you do speak English.” Charles said.
“Yeah I do,” Y/N said.
“Okay, let’s focus on your training, Charles. You’re doing great, cuore, ti amo.” Andrea said.
“Ti amo anch’io papà.” Y/N said, before she put on her headphones and continued to run on the treadmill.
Charles was staring at the woman, she was as fiery as she was beautiful. There were moments where he had to stop himself from staring too much because he was positive that Andrea would kill him. Y/N didn’t fall far behind, she was also staring at Charles during certain exercises, who wouldn’t stare at the beautiful monegasque? Both finished their exercises after 2 hours (I’m assuming)
“Great work, Charles. Y/N, you want to go grab food?” Andrea asked.
“Sure, papà, let me just pack my things. They have a shower her?” Y/N asked.
“Yes. Charles, show her please, I have to change and get my wallet from my room.” Andrea left the hotel gym which just leaves Charles and Y/N.
“Sorry about threatening you. It’s just this gym was booked for my session so when I saw you here, I thought you were a fan.” Charles explained.
“A fan on the treadmill? Why the hell would a fan be on the treadmill if they so desperately wanted to meet you?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t know, to appear normal. Anyway, I’m sorry, I had no idea Andrea was your father.” Charles said.
“Don’t worry about it, bambola.” Y/N said.
“Why do you call me bambola?” Charles asked.
“Because you have a pretty face like a doll, hence the name bambola. These are the showers?” Y/N asked, pointing to the door.
“Yep, these are the showers.” Charles said,
“Alright, thank you, I’ll see you around Charles.” Y/N said, before entering the shower room.
“See you around, Y/N.” Charles said.
From that moment on, every time Charles had a training session with Andrea, Y/N would always be there. There were moments where Y/N and Charles would hang out alone and one of those hang outs led to a very important question.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked as Y/N was eating her pasta. She finished chewing and swallowed.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Y/N asked.
“Would you like to go on a date with me? A proper date.” Charles clarified.
“Oh bambola, my dad would kill you. His top client going out with his daughter? Can you imagine the drama that would ensue?” Y/N asked.
“Which is why it will be a secret.” Charles said.
“A secret? Oh yeah, because that always turns out so well,” Y/N commented sarcastically.
“Think about it, we can go out on a few date, if it doesn’t work out, we never have to tell Andrea.” Charles said.
“Okay, I can live with that, my dad would never have to know.” Y/N said.
“What do you mean he would never have to know? Are you saying you’re positive this won’t work out?” Charles asked.
“You literally said the same thing!” Y/N exclaimed.
“I was convincing you to go out with me!” Charles exclaimed back.
“Fine, we’ll go out. Tomorrow night sound alright for you?” Y/N asked.
“Yes it does.” Charles said.
Well that first date turned out to be such a success that they have actually been dating for 4 months which means it was time to tell Andrea. They were in the gym, Andrea was sitting down, scrolling on his phone.
“Good morning, Andrea, are you ready?” Charles asked.
“I am but i have one question.” Andrea stated. Charles nodded for him to continue. “Why the hell were you on a yacht with my daughter?” Andrea asked and shoved the phone in Charles’s face. “Care to explain?”
“That’s what we are here to tell you. Charles and I have been dating for 4 months.” Y/N said.
“Four months?!? And you’re telling me now?!?” Andrea exclaimed.
“I wanted to know if we would work first, he’s not really my type.” Y/N said.
“Excuse me, I’m not your type?” Charles asked offendedly.
“I’m trying to make him feel better, chill out bambola.” Y/N said turning to face Charles. She then faces her dad. “But charles has been a perfect gentleman. He holds the door open for me, he carries my bags when we go shopping, picks me up with flowers when we go on dates, he’s a great guy, papà.” Y/N said. Andrea stands up and goes over to Charles.
“If you hurt my little girl..” Andrea started
“I won’t, sir, I swear, I would rather quit Ferrari than hurt Y/N.” Charles said.
“Good answer. Now let’s get to training.” Andrea said
The moment Andrea found out they were dating, it was hilarious. Charles’s training sessions became more difficult.
“Can’t have my princess dating a weak man, now can i?” Andrea says and Y/N just watches as her father tortures her boyfriend. After Charles’s workout, Y/N goes to him.
“How you feeling, bambola?” Y/N asked him, rubbing his back.
“I’m fine, ma belle, your father is right, if I’m going to be your boyfriend and protect you, i can’t be weak.” Charles said,
“Ha ha, get up so we can get some food.” Y/N said,
When they travelled together, Andrea would give them a curfew, not just because of the race events Charles had, but because he’s such a protective dad.
“I want you two back here by midnight.” Andrea said.
“Yes papà.” Y/N said,
“Yes sir.” Charles said before the two left the hotel to go somewhere. “Your dad took us dating way better that I thought.”
“Tell me about it. I guess it comes with you two knowing each other for a long time since you started F1.” Y/N said.
“You’re right. So Mon ange, am I your type now?” Charles asked and Y/N laughed.
“My god, bambola, let that go already.” Y/N said, charles laughed with her until she placed her hands on the back of his neck. “You have always been my type, I like boy with brown fluffy hair and blue green eyes.”
“And I like girls with (your color) hair and (your color) eyes.” Charles said before they kissed. “Can’t believe I’m dating my trainer’s daughter.”
“And I can’t believe I’m dating an F1 driver. I am wishing you luck on tomorrow’s qualifying session.” Y/N said,
“As long as your there, my good luck charm, I’m sure quali will go well.” Charles said, they kissed again before walking to a little bar near the hotel.
The End
Hope y’all liked it. I thought it turned out well
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starlightandfairies · 7 months ago
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Hiii 🫶🏼 I hope you're still up for doing an Elijah request! 🤗 I can't get this man out of my head haha
Soo it would be an idea where they met somewhere in Mystic Falls and immediately felt some bond between them, so it happens that they start falling in love (she's human but knows about vampires) but she's too afraid to get hurt so she also tries not to get too close to Elijah. One night he sees some stranger following her home from the Grill and even starts attacking her, Elijah is immediately there saving her and taking her home with him to treat her wounds (mostly some scratches) and he's just super worried. There she realizes that Elijah would never be the one hurting her and they finally share their feelings with a lot of kissing and cuddles afterwards and he holds her, telling how much she means to him.
Oh I hope this is not too weird at all 🙈❤️
Description: Upon meeting Elijah Mikaelson, the feelings start to come but in fear of being hurt, the reader decides to keep her walls up to protect herself. This changes after Elijah protects her after being attacked.
Warnings: fluff, small angst, physical assault (mild), she/her pronouns, maybe swearing?
*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*
Thanks so much for making this request! I can never get sick of Elijah, this man is always on my mind and please feel free to request again if you wish :) I really enjoyed writing this, thank you again :D
Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view
Word Count: 2,125
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First Person's POV
Tonight at the Grill was a ‘live acoustics’ night, some of the performers were good and others were quite frankly not that great. Bonnie, Elena and Caroline were off on the next big adventure for the vampiric save-the-day business and while I knew about all the vampires, witches, werewolves and all that extra fun stuff. Besides Matt, I was the only human in the group and somehow I was pushed aside to be kept ‘safe; despite Matt always being dragged into the whirlpool of drama even if he didn’t want to be. 
“The music is wonderful for the atmosphere tonight, don’t you agree?” That voice would haunt my dreams, haunt my every thought, I couldn’t fathom how gentle and warm a voice could sound. I glanced to the side, shooting a polite smile to the impeccably dressed man and nodded in agreement. 
“I do agree, I feel like I’m in like a cute little romance story, the warm lighting and the music-“ I cut myself short, realising I was babbling to a random stranger who more than likely did not care for my ideas and thoughts. 
“I can see how you would see that.” Oh, gosh- those eyes! That smile! This man would haunt me forever, picture perfect and everything I would want in a man. I continued to share a polite smile with the man, fiddling with the straw in my chocolate milkshake and turned myself slightly to face the man a little better. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you…?” Realising that he was waiting for my name, I placed my drink down and took his hand. 
“Y/N L/N” He softly cupped my hand, shaking it and proceeded to share his name.
“Elijah Mikaelson.” I wish I could’ve hidden my reaction better, my eyes went wide, and my smile flattened for a moment before I quickly made sure to continue to be nice and polite. Elijah carefully rested my head on the bar, took a small sip of whatever his drink was and gazed at me with a quizzical look. 
“You know who I am…” His tone was neither harsh nor hurt, Elijah seemed to have suspected my knowledge of his name and he even seemed curious by the idea of my knowledge. 
“I know of your brother Niklaus… Elena told me about you, I think she might have exaggerated a bit. You don’t seem like the antagonist she kinda painted you out to be. From what I’ve heard, you’re the nicer brother… the noble one and I'm sure first glances can be deceiving but… I don’t know- you don’t seem like a bad man.”  He briefly licked his lips, eyes shooting up to the ceiling and seemed to be contemplating his next moves. 
“I suppose you know-“ 
“That you’re a…” I leaned closer to whisper so people passing by wouldn’t hear. 
“An Original.” 
“You don’t seem to be phased.”
“Team doppelgänger has built up my immunity to supernatural beings.” I let out a weak chuckle, cringing internally and turned my focus back on my drink. I wanted to keep speaking with him, I really did want to keep speaking with him but I knew the world that I happened to live in and I didn’t fancy the idea of being bait or hurt as collateral damage. 
“It was really nice to meet you Elijah but I have to go.” He nodded, that handsome smile appearing once more, his actions made me gush and brought butterflies into my belly as he grabbed my jacket and assisted in placing it back on. 
“I hope that you have a good evening, Y/N” 
“Same to you Elijah.” He seemed to have a thought pop into his head, I stopped in my tracks, allowing for him to have the benefit of the doubt and give him the chance to speak his mind. 
“May I have the pleasure of seeing you again?” 
“Maybe… There’s always tomorrow.” I knew I had given myself away, I could feel my heart skip a beat, I’m sure he could hear it, his facial expression didn’t change but I could feel that he knew what I was feeling. 
“Have a good evening,” I whispered, brushing past him to carry on my way. 
+++++++
I had seen Elijah a couple of times since our first meeting, we had small conversations and I tried my best to conceal my heart, I didn't want to get close to this man despite enjoying his presence, his voice and the true appearance of his gentlemanly ways made me fall into a daydream greater than any story or dream I could ever have or read. 
The next time I saw Elijah was three months after our first meeting, as I said we had multiple different meetings and they were all the greatest moments of my life despite how much I tried to protect my fragile heart. I had left my home for the park, I wanted to read outside of my home and get some fresh air away from the stuffiness of my bedroom. I rested the picnic blanket underneath a large tree, I read three chapters of my book before I felt a presence looming nearby, I placed the book to the side and stood up, surveying the area for a figure and jumped in my skin seeing Elijah approaching me. 
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, may I join you?" I nodded, smiling at the man, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt and sat down with me on the picnic blanket. He gently picked my book up, staring at the cover with intrigue, I observed him with butterflies growing in my stomach, a blush wanting to form on my cheeks as I continued to drown in what was possibly a huge crush for the Original Vampire. 
"Ignite Me by Tahereh Mafi... I'm not sure I've heard of this one before." 
"I doubt you would've, I don't exactly picture you reading a book like this?" He smiled, tilting his head slightly, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth and he handed me back the book. 
"Why is that?" 
"Well... I don't know, I picture you reading older books nothing from the late 20th century to the early 21st century." Elijah briefly nodded in agreement, I smiled proudly at my guess and fiddled with the tassels hanging off of my bookmark. The vampire took off his suit jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his button-up, I bit the inside of my cheek, begging myself to remain calm and avoid giving away any kind of emotions being revealed. 
"Enlighten me, will you though, please? What's it about?" I cleared my throat, leaning closer to him with joy forming, giddy that he was showing interest in something that I liked and enjoyed. 
"It's the third book in the series, I've read it before, and this one is one of my favourites. Essentially the series is all about control some people have these powers and the leaders are trying to control these people. The relationship of the main characters is what I happen to enjoy the most about it, I love how Tahereh created their bond from..." 
"Why did you stop?" Elijah gently questioned, his face furrowing in concern, I wanted to cringe but I forced the words out before I could let that show. Taking a deep breath, I turned my gaze back to him, scrunching my face up briefly and proceeded to explain to Elijah what was going through my head. 
"Whenever I ramble on to the Salvatores and all that, it's clear that they don't care and I'm not wanting to force that onto you. I'm sorry." Elijah tutted, shaking his head and holding out his hand for me to take. Hesitating for a moment, I finally rested my hand in his, holding my breath for a moment and kept my eyes focused on him as he rested his other hand on top of mine. 
"You do that too often, Y/N, I can see you trying to protect your heart and you have a wide range of information waiting to come out and you shut yourself down because you expect everyone else to do that. I hope you find someone... someone who makes you realise you don't need to do that." 
"Could possibly end up being you, Elijah," I whispered.
+++++
When someone unknown came into Mystic Falls, it was always a concerning event, the vampires were always the most suspicious of strangers and most of the time they were typically right for not trusting the stranger. It was late when I left the grill tonight, Elijah was growing on my mind more and more, and I would be hit with a wave of memories at random moments. 
"Up ahead, there's an alley to your right, walk down it. Try anything-" 
"Okay... I understand." I whispered, complying as I walked a little quicker and turned down the alleyway. I cried out as I was instantly shoved against the wall, my head ached and the world spun around me, I bit back a sob as I hit the ground and hissed as the gravel bit into my skin. I kicked off my heels, not fancying a broken ankle and lept to my feet running towards the street but missed as the man tackled me to the ground and which resulted in blood slightly trickling down my forehead and more cuts forming against my skin. 
It felt like something out of a vampire movie, I heard a whoosh and then a light thud. Elijah appeared, holding the man against the wall effortlessly with one hand and easily compelled the man to walk off and not commit any sort of crime again. I let out a few sobs as the pain sunk in and the adrenaline started to fade away.
Elijah swooped me into his arms, effortlessly taking me to his mansion and rested me down on his obnoxiously large bed. He crouched down, gently cupping my face in his hands, observing my facial features and swiftly disappeared somewhere before running back. 
"Are you okay?" He questioned, focusing on grabbing the things from the first-aid kit to treat my wounds. 
"I'm okay..." I whispered, hissing as he wiped an alcohol wipe across the graze on my palm and watched as he apologised profusely for inflicting any added pain onto me. Elijah was so attentive to my needs, he cleaned the blood and dirt away from my cuts and grazes. Covering them with bandaids, doing what he could to assist in caring for me. It was as he was lingering for a moment, observing my form that I realised that Elijah Mikaelson would never hurt me. He would never cause any harm to me, Elijah Mikaelson would protect me and I knew that I wouldn't need to worry any longer. 
"You wouldn't hurt me..." I whispered, staring at the vampire as he grasped my face and held eye contact with me. 
"Y/N L/N I would never dream of hurting you, you... you're perfect... Y/N you are the epitome of perfect, I haven't met someone as intelligent, kind, sweet, and funny in a long time. Y/N I love you and I hope that you'll allow-" I pushed myself closer to him, carefully cupping his face to kiss the man who had possessed my dreams too often. 
"Elijah, please, never let me go, I can't keep guarding myself-" 
"Shhh, I've got you." He kissed my forehead, pulling me into his arms and pushing himself to lay against the headboard of his bed. I inhaled, holding onto the warm and mesmerising smell of his cologne, I curled into his chest and hummed gently as he rested another kiss on my forehead. 
I felt protected, Elijah was my guardian angel, and he made me feel warm and gooey. Made me giddy and the butterflies a constant swarm in my belly, I fiddled with his hands, staring at the family ring that rested on his finger and glanced to him as he pulled my face to meet his. I hummed as he rested a kiss against my lips, sucking in another deep breath and curling in closer as he strokes my hair, his touch comforting and loving. 
"Can I stay here? Just in your arms? Where I'm safe and with you, you Elijah who looks after me and takes the time to listen and know me?" Elijah's smile made the butterflies come to life, my cheeks flushed red and his simple words reassured me for an infinity of time. 
"Always and forever." 
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sanyu-thewitch05 · 5 months ago
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What if F! Yuu's dad got transported to Twisted Wonderland with her headcanons
Pt. 2 Pt.3 Pt.4
I thought of this concept after watching those Fantasy Dad comedy reels.
When your dad woke up from the coffin before you, lemme just say it was pure drama.
🦀:"Yuu, get back in the coffin! We're surrounded by weird men and boys in cult clothes!"
He was even more distressed when you came out holding Grim in your arms.
That's when Crowley explains you and your father's predicament.
🦀: So you're telling me we're stuck in a twisted Disney universe at an all-boys school, and you expect my daughter and I to stay here? Ain't no way that's happening! Yuu, come on! We're finding a hotel!
Somehow you and your father end up staying because Crowley convinced him that ya'll should stay in case he finds a way home.
Y’all still end up at Ramshackle.
But where the path differs is with the overblots and Malleus.
Your dad saw Malleus and you in the garden and put a stop to it. Hank Hill style.
🦀: Yuu, who are you talking to in the garden, in the dead of night?
🦐: Just a friend, dad!
🐉: So this must be the father everyone is talking about.
🦀: Who are you and why do you look like a demon?
🦐: Dad!
🐉: Ahaha, mortals think of such creative names for us.
🦀: Yuu, get back inside this guy is weird.
🦐: Don’t be rude, dad! He’s my new friend!
🦀: Oh really? Then what’s his name?
🦐: Tsunotaro/Hornton.
🦀: And did he tell you that?
🦐: Well….he wouldn’t tell me his real name so he asked me to give him a nickname.
🦀:I’m going to give your pale thin haired creepy self five minutes to leave before I kick your ass!
🦐: Dad!
During the Riddle Overblot arc, when Ace comes to stay with you, your dad is just onto his tactics.
♥️: Please, can I sleep in your bed? I swear I won’t take up much space!
🦀: Listen here boy, she may not be able to catch onto your tactics, but I can. I was once a teenage boy too. You’re not sharing a bed with her.
🦐:….ha….yeah…..to the couch you go. I’ll see you in the morning.
🦀: Yuu, lock your door before you go to sleep.
He pays Grim in tuna to make sure he keeps the boys in line when it comes to Yuu.
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thestarrynightslover · 1 year ago
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Discreet Not Detached
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1,397
Warnings: None, really.
Summary: Mike goes to Harvey's apartment to deliver some files only to be proved wrong about his boss being a lonely workaholic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.
A/N: My first Harvey fic in a while, I had the idea based on an episode (I don't remember exactly which) and tried to elucidate to it here. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck and feedback is appreciated as usual!
(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)
| masterlist |
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Another day in the office, another drama for Harvey Specter: this time it was his associate, Mike Ross, wanting to tell his girlfriend the whole truth about the terms of his employment and Harvey couldn’t let him do it, for obvious reasons. But, as you’d expect, namecallings happened and it all ended with Mike throwing in Harvey’s face his being an alleged workaholic in lack of a personal 一 and, in this case, love 一 life. Emphasis on alleged, cause what Mike didn’t know was that his boss actually did have someone to go home to…
It had been a long day but at least you got to go home to your excentric puddle of comfort of a boyfriend: New York City’s best closer, Harvey Specter. Once you got to your place, where the two of you lived together, you were welcomed with the smell and the view of a freshly cooked dinner that Harvey probably had someone making for the two of you.
As you started taking off your coat and shoes by the door, Harvey came out of your shared bedroom wearing nothing but sweatpants and looking like he’d just taken a shower. “Oh, hey, honey!” He greeted you with a smile on his face. “Sorry I didn’t wait for you to shower but I mingled too much with people of dubious hygiene today, so I kinda really needed to get clean.”
“Ah, that’s okay,” you said while pouting cutely at the same time. “At least dinner is ready, 'cause I am starving!”
“Ha! You say it like it’s cutting-edge news!” He tells you, as he puts on a shirt 一 much to your disappointment. 
“What is that supposed to mean?!” You ask feigning offense while putting away your bag, shoes, and coat.
“It means that you’re always starving, sweetheart,” Harvey answers nonchalantly like it’s nothing.
“That is not true! Or at least it’s not entirely true: I’m always starving if it’s past mealtime and I haven’t eaten!”
“Sure, whatever you say, baby!” He says it already knowing that your hunger and all the pet names will only soften you.
“You know what? After today I don’t even have the energy to bicker with you…”
“That bad, huh?”
“The ED was a complete chaos today, apparently all hospitals were swamped, which is why they called more surgeons downstairs to help out. I’ve been on my feet the entire day! I’m basically dead.”
“Dramatic… But I’m sorry you had a shitty day, baby.” He said coming to hug you from behind in your bathroom. Looking at your reflex in the mirror 一 both of you, together like that 一 filled your heart with love and your mind with peace. Harvey was definitely your happy place.
Some time later, after you’d had your dinner, gotten ready for bed, and watched a sappy rom-com you chose, you and Harvey were already cuddling, almost asleep when you heard insistent knocking on the door.
“Stay here, honey, I’ll go see what that’s all about.” You sorta heard Harvey say to you as you lost your personal space heater.
Out in the living, Harvey opened the door only to find his associate Mike Ross standing there looking all tired and disheveled. Before his boss could even say anything, he went ahead entering the apartment mumbling about the case they were currently addressing in the office.
“Harvey, you’re not gonna believe what I found about our not-so-innocent school teacher!” He said to the older man with such energy that sounded like he had had a few too many energetics.
“What the hell, Mike?! Why are you showing up on my doorstep this late at night?”
“Because I knew you’d wanna see this as soon as possible, besides, it’s not like you’d have anything important going here, would you?” Mike asked sorta mocking Harvey.
Ignoring his employee’s last comment, he took the papers Mike was offering and said: “This better be good, Ross, otherwise you’re gonna meet a whole different side of me.
As Harvey started reading all the documents, Mike started having a look around, cause when would he have another chance at taking a peek at his boss’s house like that again? And he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing, he would definitely be making a few thousand jokes about it in the near future: there was a romance novel lying on the table, one of those with drawings on the cover that were becoming so popular then.
“Oh my God, Harvey, when were you gonna tell me about your love for reading?” He asked while pointing at the book with his head. 
As Harvey’s eyes emerged from the papers in his hands with a confused look to them, Mike continued: “You know you could have told me, in fact after seeing the kinda genre you like I might actually ask for some recommendations, you know, to get my grandmother a few as presents.” The younger man said already starting to laugh loudly.
“That’s not mine…” Harvey began to answer with his mind still on the documents at hand.
“Oh no? You know there’s no need to lie to me, I promise I’ll try not to judge!”
“Funny. But that’s actually-”
“Mine!” You said as you came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but one of Harvey’s expensive dress shirts. “I don’t think we’ve met yet!” You exclaimed, already extending your hand to shake Mike’s. “I’m (y/n), Harvey’s girlfriend.”
“Girl- g- girlfriend?” Mike looked so shocked he almost choked on his laughter.
“Yes, but it’s doctor (y/l/n) for you.” He answered instinctively moving to your side. “What are you doing out of bed, sweetheart?”
“Sweetheart?” Mike murmured to himself in disbelief of the version of Harvey he was seeing, especially after their argument in the office and the things he’d said to Harvey.
“Well, I assumed it was something work-related when I noticed how long it was taking you to come back and came to drag you back to bed!” You announced to your boyfriend entangling your bodies with certain disregard for the other man standing there in shock.
Only then did Mike notice a framed picture on the sideboard behind him and it displayed both you and Harvey looking at each other with love in your eyes as he carried you bridal style into the water on a beach. Which was another surprise to the young attorney since he didn’t even know that Harvey was a fan of beaches.
“So you’re the famous Mike Ross, then?” You asked, catching his attention again. “You know, it’s very rare for someone to impress Mr. Specter here like you did!”
“Oh, honey, don’t do that, or he’ll spend an entire month finding new ways to subtly bring up in every conversation-”
“Oh, there won’t be anything subtle about it, Mr. Specter,” Mike said mockingly, finally coming out of the shock he had been on. “But I’m curious now, how long have you two been together?”
“About three years, isn’t it, babe?” You answered quickly not paying any mind to the mockery on Mike’s voice.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Wow, I never would’ve guessed it. Harvey never talks about you. Like ever.” Mike impolitely announced. “I mean, I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend and it’s been months since we started working together.”
“Well, that sounds about right since we don’t like to display our personal lives at work.” You said nonchalantly.
“But do Jessica and Donna know?”
“Of course they do. Must I remind you that you’re not a Donna or a Jessica, Mike?”
“Ouch. But do Lewis and Rachel know?”
“No, and no. And as interesting as your findings were, it’s time for you to leave. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow at the office.”
“But-”
“Mike. Now!”
“Oh, Harvey, don’t be like that.” 
“He needs to go now and we need to go back to bed, so bye, Mike!” Harvey said while shoving Mike out the door.
And after he was gone, just like in the picture, Harvey picked you up from the floor and started carrying you back to the bedroom.
“Harvey!” You squealed out. But he didn’t mind it as he tossed you on the bed, got on top of you, and started kissing you. Apparently, Mike’s visit had put him in a good mood. And, apparently, it was going to be a long night.                                                                 
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noemilivv · 9 months ago
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I need drama. what if their s/o is an angel who is in hell "illegally". they decided to help Charlie after her visiting Heavens. they have wings and a halo, and can easily move between heaven and hell. One evening they hurriedly leave the hotel, saying that it was "a very important meeting up there. I need to come so they don't suspect anything" and that they would be back in a couple of hours. and fled away. they have been gone for few days. Arriving at the hotel at night, they accidentally run into a character, and let's just say, their s/o is not in the best condition. Everything is beaten and covered in blood, but the worst thing is that golden blood is flowing from their backs and their wings are missing. holding the injuries, where the blood comes from, barely standing on feet, they whisper with a smile "They found out everything. Very soon they will start an attack. I'm so sorry."
For Alastor, Husk and platonic!Charlie
WTFF THAT IS ACTUALLY SO COOL !!
but yes, I will write that for you, rn ;)
Although, due to the fact that this is a bit lengthy, I’m only gonna do Husk and platonic!Charlie (assuming you want them separate) So I hope that’s okay!! But I could always do an Alastor version in the future :)
(pssst… there will be a part 2… you didn’t hear it from me…)
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“Bad Little Angel” Pt. 1
Husk x Seraphim!Angel!Reader
Warnings: Swear words, S1E6 spoilers, alcohol mentions, use of (Y/N)
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“I can’t believe Lucifer’s little cunt thinks, not only, that she can bring sinners up here, but also bitch to my manager? Like just say you’re a slutty, lesbian Karen and move the fuck on.” Adam whined as he walked with Lute out of the courtroom, “I couldn’t agree more, sir.” Lute said with a nod, taking off her mask and shaking her hair slightly.
This wasn’t right, and you knew that. None of it. But you knew, you had to do something.
A true Angel wouldn’t continue to let human souls die off, whether they be Hellbound or not.
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“Sooo, how’d it go?” Lucifer asked enthusiastically as Charlie walked through the door, only for her to walk right past him, his face slightly falling as she did so, she fell face forward into one of the couches before mumbling some incoherent words into the pillow.
“Eh, wha?” Angel asked, as he turned to look at her from the bar, “Fine.” she mumbled, lifting her head up, simply to be audible, before slamming it back into the pillow. “Wow.” Angel remarked, before shutting up after Vaggie gave him the eyes.
Before more words could be exchanged there was a knock at the door, Charlie sluggishly walked to swing it open, and there you stood, one of the three Seraphim’s that were at the meeting, although it was hard to notice due to the white cloak that hung over your body and face.
“— Can I come in before we begin this? I just don’t want anyone to see me.” You said sheepishly, as Charlie stepped aside to let you in without uttering a word, slightly stunned by your presence.
You walked in, and neatly put your cloak on a nearby coatrack, your wings and hall now on display, and now it felt like everyone in the hotel had eyes on you…
Most of which you had either remembered from the meeting or the live video of ‘The Porn Demon’ — or as Lute said ‘Some crackwhore’
“Hello!” You said with a bashful wave. “I’m-”
“Smiles? What are you doing here?”
Smiles? Only people in Heaven called you that. You turn to see Vagi looking, almost confusion? Shock? Perhaps undecided for now.
“Ah yes, hi, Vagi-”
“It’s pronounced ‘Vaggie’”
“Oh. My apologies!”
Vaggie. Noted.
“As I was saying, I’m one of the Seraphims, Ms. Morningstar was in Heaven earlier this afternoon, and I must say, I’m invested in this hotel of yours.”
Charlie’s face lit up instantly, but you could feel the Porn Demon (for a lack of his name) and Vaggie eyeing you suspiciously.
“I… I know we’re different, but I really want to help, this whole hotel is about putting others together despite their differences, so, y’know.. well, I didn’t really think through what I was going to say before I came here.” You said, chuckling under your breath as you looked down bashfully and played with the tip of your shoe.
“Fine.” Vaggie said, before coming up to you, “But know everything is confidential, you don’t get to spill all our shit because you feel like it, I don’t care who’s in charge who’s telling you to do this, if you don’t follow our rules, you don’t get to be here.” Vaggie finished, looking to a deer-like demon, who has a big grin on his face as he comes up to you, and offers to shake his hand.
You hesitate, but shake it, a green light swirls around the room and flickers away the moment your and the deer’s hands lose contact.
You turn to Vaggie, your face serious about the promise just made, “You have yourself a deal.”
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“So this is Angel! You saw him from the video! That is Alastor, he’s the one you made the deal with! Ooh oh! And that’s Pentious and Niffty — Niffty’s the one cleaning, by the way!” Charlie said pointing to a small cyclops girl sweeping and a snake man who followed behind her — he seemed to be a.. you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but you settled with magician.
“That’s Husk, the bartender!” Charlie said with a point, and the cat man gave a small nod — now that was a magician, but if he was a magician, what the hell was the snake supposed to be? Eh, it doesn’t matter.
“And this is… Oh, well you already know Vaggie! From.. er…” Charlie trailed off, it was obvious she was referring to what Adam had announced in the courtroom.
“So is, ‘Smiles’ like your real name? ‘Cus I’ve never met a damn person in my whole afterlife who’d wanna be named that…well, maybe except for him.” Angel asked from the bar, gesturing to Alastor for his last reference.
“No no.” You said with a chuckle, approaching Angel slightly to talk to him more efficiently. “Smiles is a nickname that Vaggie knows me as from… past social circles..” You explained, trailing off, “But anywho, you can call me smiles, or (Y/N), whatever you want!”
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“You want a drink?” Husk asked, as he finished up cleaning Angel’s cup, as he just went to bed for the night, “No, I don’t drink.” you explained as Husker chuckled. “I just… never really got to know you.” You added.
“There’s only so much to know.” He said, “And didn’t Charlie say something about a ‘live video’ from that meeting? See, you know enough about me, new kid.”
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It had been about a week since you made it to the hotel, you had been in Heaven for about half of that time though, but everyone was nice so far!
Charlie was amazingly kind and understanding during shared planning periods, you were starting to build a friendship with Vaggie again, Angel was turning into your bestfriend, you loved the chaotic energy with Pentious and Niffty, Alastor was creepy…but he was okay, and Husk was so soothing and understanding — you have to admit, that maybe something a little special was going on.
It was late, you had just been out on a walk around the block with Husk and Angel, and you were in your peejays, ready to clock out, simply scrolling on your phone, you see a text pop up, and you click to view it.
Lute : There’s a meeting on Sunday. Don’t miss it.
A meeting? For what? We just had a meeting..
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“Is everything okay?” Charlie asked as you rushed to get your cloak and clip it below your chin. Angel, Vaggie, and Alastor also watched you scramble around the lobby of the hotel.
“Look, Heaven really needs me, and I need to leave now if I wanna make it there when I need to, I’ll be back, I promise.” You explained quickly and sternly, Charlie and Angel exchanged concerned looks, Vaggie looked a bit suspicious and you couldn’t help but feel awful, and Alastor had his signature grin.
“You’ll be back, right?” Charlie asks with a hopeful smile.
You hesitate to answer, but give a smile back to her that has the same hope within your eyes, “Of course.”
And then, you flew off.
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doitforbangchan · 9 months ago
Text
All Bark and No Bite 05
We're finally getting into some drama in this one (Yes i know it took forever) please enjoy!
Masterlist
Series masterlist
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe
Previous - Next
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Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader,  cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 
Chapter warnings: Suggestive, ABO, reader in heat, cursing, pet names, manipulation?
WC: 3k
MDNI 18+
Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please. 
There was an intense warmth covering your back when you awoke the next morning. It was so comforting you almost lulled back to sleep. That is until you heard a raspy voice in your ear,
“Good morning, Omega.” 
Chan 
“Mmm” you grumbled, too caught up in his warmth. 
He smiled into your hair and pressed a kiss to the back of your head. You felt tingles all over your body at his affection. 
It was still hard to believe yesterday even happened. It feels like a fever dream, one you never wanted to wake from. You dug yourself further into the alpha's embrace, wanting to be as close to him as possible. 
You feel weird today. Still so, so happy, but there's an oddness you can’t quite place your finger on. All you know is that Chan being here is so comforting to you.  
“How did you sleep, baby?” He kept his voice low, he himself still riddled with sleep. 
You yawned, “Wonderful, Chan. I don’t think I have ever slept that good in my life.”
He hummed, “I’m so glad, omega. You needed your rest after all the stress you’ve been through the last few days.” He brushes the hair from you face and turns your body over to be underneath him now. “And you’ll need your energy for what's in store for you today.”  He smirked at seeing your face turn full red with blush. Did he mean we are gonna…
He planted a quick kiss to your lips before he spoke again “We’re going into town today to get you new clothes and toiletries.” He rolled off the bed. 
‘Oh, get your mind out of the gutter y/n.’ You scolded yourself mentally. Propping yourself up on your elbows you admired your alpha as he slipped his pj pants back over his hips. He must have taken them off to be more comfortable in the night. The thought of being in bed with him, when he has no clothes on, makes you wanna drool. Made you wish you knew, then maybe you could have done something about it. ‘Y/N what the fuck calm down’
Chan could feel your eyes on him, so he pulled up his bottoms extra slowly, being sure to give you a good look at his ass. He smirked when he turned around to you staring right at him. 
“Come on, Baby. You gotta get ready, I’m sure the boys are almost ready to head out.” He walked to the door, opening it to find your clothes from yesterday neatly folded and waiting. “Seungmin washed these for you last night, so you had something to wear today.” He set them on the bed for you. 
“Wow, that was so thoughtful of him!” You beamed. 
If only you knew how many times Seungmin pressed your dirty underwear to his nose, drinking in the pure scent of you. 
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Chan left you to get ready for the day while he went and did the same. After you fell asleep last night him and the pack texted about today's agenda. A few of them needed to go to town so it was the perfect time to take you shopping. Chan was confident no one in their small town would try anything with you, especially if they saw the pack around. 
There was a stack of bagels on the table waiting for you when you walked down the stairs about 15 minutes later. Jisung was seated there munching on his own when he noticed you and pulled out the chair next to him. “Hey my Baby! Wanna bagel?” 
“Good morning Jisung,” You giggled. It was literal music to his ears. “I would love one, thank you. “ 
You took a seat next to him as he plated one up for you, with a side of cream cheese and butter. 
“Are you ready to go shopping?” He asked with cheeks full of food. 
You took your own bite, “Yes! Are you coming with us today?” 
It was at that moment Chan entered the room, “Ah yes, actually Hannie is going to be the one to take you to get clothes. I have a few other matters to attend to in town.” He pressed a kiss to your head and lowered his voice when he sensed your anxiety “Alpha has some important things he needs to do, you’ll be a good omega and go shopping with Jisung, right?” He was pumping out pheromones to appease you and make you listen. It was certainly working. 
You nodded along with his words “Yes alpha.” 
He gave you a devilish grin “That's a good omega.” His words sent a deep shiver down your spine. 
Jisung watched your interaction with interest. So far you were everything he’d heard about omegas. Sweet, respectful, beautiful. You really were a good omega. It made him want to take care of you. 
“Who are we waiting on, Channie-hyung?” The beta asked after gulping down his bagel. 
Chan pulled out your chair for you when you were finished, “Seungmin and Felix, they are probably already in the car waiting for us. Bin and Hyun are already in town, they took Changbins car. Bin wanted to get some gym time and Hyunjin is teaching his weekly art class.” 
‘Aww Hyunjin really couldn’t get any more attractive’ You signed dreamily. 
“Are Minho and Jeongin not coming with us?” You asked Chan. 
“Nah Jeongin wasn’t feelin’ to well and Minho wants to get some house work in” You nodded. 
“Seungmin will yell at me if we make him wait any longer so let’s go!” Jisung bolted for the door and you both followed right behind him hand in hand. 
--------------------------------------------------------------
The ride to town took about 20 minutes, but it felt like it went by much quicker. You were sat shotgun while Chan drove, his hand resting on your thigh the entire time. His touch calmed the nerves you felt, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You still can’t shake this odd feeling. 
The 3 betas sat in the back, Seungmin bullying Jisung about making him wait and Felix laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. 
“It’s not my fault Seung! Channie is the one who came down last, Baby and i were ready!” His eyes found yours when you looked back at him, “right baby?!” 
“Hmmmmm” you pretended to think, Chan giving you an amused side eye, Jisung pleading with you to agree. “I don’t remember.” You gave him a cheeky smile. “Oh wait , I remember now! It’s all Alphas fault!” You pointed at Chan and Jisung let out a cheer. 
Seungmin was not as amused, “Don’t cover for him y/n, he’s always the late one.” 
A loud “Hey!” then a thumping sound was barely heard over all the laughter in the car. 
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In town Chan had Jisung change spots with him to take you to the boutique, while Chan and the other two boys attended to their own business. Your alpha gave you a deep kiss before departing, his smirk on display at your flustered state. 
You and Jisung arrived a few minutes later at this small but very fashionable clothing store. 
The door chimed as you opened it, a voice from behind a counter calling to you “Be right with you dearies!”
Jisung held onto your hand as you walked a little further in. 
‘Wow there are so many options here!’ you thought, mouth wide open at the gorgeous selections. 
“What can I help you -“ an older woman approached but paused at the sight of you. 
You gave her a polite wave “Hello. I need some new
clothes please.” 
She was an old beta woman, probably around late 60s, with graying hair and a green boho dress. She was a very pretty woman. 
“Eun, this is y/n.” The woman only then seemed to notice Jisung with you. “She’s Chans mate.” 
That seemed to snap her out of her daze, a bright smile gracing her features, “That sly dog went and got himself an omega huh? And a gorgeous one at that!” She approached you and grabbed your face, getting a good look at you. The blush returned to your face and you made eyes at Jisung next to you. 
Jisung laughed and released your hand pulling you back slightly. “ Yes Eun, she’s new in our pack and needs a whole new wardrobe!” 
The elder beta clapped her hands excitedly. “You’ve come to the right place then! I’ve got quite the collection for you to try my dear.” She disappeared into the back once again. 
Jisung put both hands on your shoulders, giving them a rub to calm you. 
“Don’t mind Eun, Baby. She’s a little eccentric. She’s an old friend Chans family. Watched him and his family grow up, so she’s a little excited.” Ah that makes sense. 
Eun came rushing out with her arms full of clothes. She set them on a moving rack before shuffling it over to the fitting room in the corner. “I picked out a few things that I think you’ll love!” 
She grabbed your hand and hurried you to the fitting room, chucking a few outfits into the room with you, then taking a seat outside with Jisung, both waiting for you to model all the clothes for them. 
It took about 2 hours before you decided you had enough to last a lifetime. Actually you were done after picking one outfit, but Jisung just waved a credit card at you and told you to keep shopping. That he knew if you didn’t buy a lot then Chan would be mad at both of you. That made it easier to pick out stuff, knowing your alpha would be pleased. 
It was when you were checking out with Eun that you started to feel the ache in your lower belly. And the fire in your veins. You clutched your stomach with one arm, the other holding onto Jisung so you didn’t collapse. 
When Jisung went to ask you what was wrong, the most incredible scent he had ever smelled wafted out of you. His pupils were blown and his body went rigid. 
He used both hands to ground you and keep you from falling. “y/n.. w-what is happening?” He managed to get out. 
“She’s going into heat! You have to get her home now!” Eun had seen this before, she grew up with omegas. 
“Me?! Shouldn’t we go pick up Channie-hyung first?” The boy asked in pure panic. 
“No you need to take her straight home there is no time, don’t forget you're in a town with other alphas that can smell her just as well as you can.” 
That seemed to snap him out of it, hauling you up and wrapping his arms around you. 
“Eun, can you call Chan for me please? Just tell him I'm taking her straight home.”
Eun opened the door and helped Jisung load you into the car. “Will do! I’ll have someone fetch these clothes for her later. Be safe.” She shut you in and watched you drive off. 
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Chan had paid a visit to the police station to speak with the sheriff while you were out shopping. Now was the perfect time to see what could be done about your missing persons status. 
He was assured by the sheriff that if you made a report that you're not missing, they can send the information over to the original sector and have you filed as not missing and end the investigation. Plus your current location would legally remain anonymous. 
Chan felt relieved by that, one less thing to worry about. That is, he was feeling relief until he received a very panicked call from Eun. 
“You need to get home right now Christopher!” She hollered as he answered the phone. 
He winced at her loud voice, “Ah, Eun what's going on?” 
“Your omega is in heat, that’s what the fuck is going on. She started right in the middle of checking out! Had to leave all the bags here!” 
Chan felt his heart stop and gut wrench. His omega was in heat . “Where is she now?”
“Han took her home, I told him not to stop for you and go straight there to avoid any trouble.” 
 “Thanks for letting me know. I gotta make a call.” With that he hung up on her. He would apologize later. First he had to get a ride home. 
The line rang a few times before Changbins voice answered, sounding out of breath. 
“What’s up bro? Finally wanna come join me in a workout?” His voice was teasing. 
“Changbin” Chans voice was hard, Alpha mode activated. “I need you to come get me from the police department right now. It’s y/n, she's in heat.” 
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Your senses were on overload. You could smell everything. Every trace of the boy’s previously in the car, every trace of Chan. And you could especially smell Jisung. Your hands kept finding his shirt, trying to tug him closer as he drove but he (regretfully) had to keep pushing you away. You’re gonna be the death of me he had said to you when the tugging began. 
You hadn’t had a heat in years, not since you presented as an omega for the first time. After that you had been on high quality suppressants, causing you to not have a heat while taking them. That must be why this one came on so quickly. It had been days since you’ve taken any. Being in a house full of men, with your alpha, your body is going into overdrive. It was so bad, you felt as though you had no control over your body or urges. It was acting on its own at this point.  It was making you delirious and feral.
Jisung sped as quickly as possible, while still keeping you safe, to get home. He made it there in record time, tires screeching to a stop outside the door. Even with you grabbing at him he managed to slip out of the driver's seat, bolting around the vehicle to open your door and gently guide you out. When his hands made contact with the skin on your waist when you shirt rode up, you let out a whimpering moan. You would be humiliated about that later. 
Jisung felt his boner grow in his pants. 
‘what the fuck what the fuck’ He was screaming internally, wanting to just take you there on the ground outside. He knew he couldn’t do that though. You were Chans first and foremost. His alpha. He would never disrespect him or you that way. 
“Come on my baby, we gotta get you to your room.” At the mention of him taking you to your room you found your footing and let him lead you inside. 
Stepping through the threshold the first thing you could sense was an alpha. 
Jeongin made his way into the entry to see what the commotion was about , when he stopped right in his tracks. He didn’t know what was happening to him but he raced to your side. 
“No no no no!” Jisung saw the young alpha coming at you and tried to stop him. “Jeongin wait, don’t!” 
He didn’t hear a word though, pushing Jisung off of you and cornering you into the wall beside him. 
At the presence of the alpha in front of you, you let out a long whine, hands reaching out and grasping his shirt. 
Jeongin presses his nose into the gland on your neck where your aroma was emanating from the heaviest. 
“Innie! You have to stop!!” Jisung yelled in his panic, but was only answered by the younger man’s deep growl. 
“Omega….” Jeongin inhaled you, wanting to devour you whole. Never in his life had he wanted something more. He could almost taste you on his tongue.
“Jeongin!” Jisung screamed out again, “You have to st-“ 
“Stop!” Came a loud bellow, then strong hands ripped Jeongin from your body, tossing him to Changbin. 
It was Chan. It was your Alpha. 
Tears leaked from you at the sight of him. He was furious, not at you, but at the situation. At the sight of your dizzy appearance he hoisted you over his shoulder and headed up the stairs. Just in time for Minho to come running from his room upstairs. 
“What the fuck is going on?” He demanded, but one look at the situation told him all he needed to know. 
Chan yelled back to Minho “Help changbin get Jeongin out of here! In fact all of you need to stay out for a few days! We can’t have any repeats of what just happened.” 
Minho nodded in agreement, “You're right. I'll make sure everyone stays away.”  
Changbin was trying to force the younger alpha outside, into the fresh air away from you. It took all his will power to resist you himself, so it was a real struggle to try and reel in Jeongin. Changbin was lucky he had the self control he had, or he would be just like Jeongin. That's not to say it was easy for the alpha, no no, his body was aching for a taste of you.
Minho was herding them both along, Jisung following behind. “Come on guys, it’s alright. Let’s just get out of here and clear our minds huh?” He won’t deny he was affected by you as well. The tastiest thing he had ever experienced. It pissed him off that this ordeal was even happening, though. ‘I knew she would cause fucking problems’ he thought bitterly. Being the ever so responsible one, Min loaded everyone in the van and went to fetch the other remaining members. Time to find a place to crash for a few days. This blows.
A/N; Finallllyyy a little bit of drama! As always, I would love to hear what yall think!
Please do not copy or steal my writing and content! Reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated tho!
doitforbangchan©
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jeoncasino · 3 months ago
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Prospects
⋆ †₊ 0.1
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Tired of life and all it had to bring for you, things take a turn when you find out two of your friends start to take a liking to you. With newfound emotions and a whole lot of drama, what happens when they start competing for your love?
Pairings: JJK x fem! reader [x KNJ]
Genre: college au, love triangle, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, eventual smut.
Tags: rich! jjk, law student! jjk, dark hair! jjk, sweet! jjk, jealous! jjk, needy! jjk, obsessed! jjk, but also dom! jjk, slightly toxic! jjk, english major! knj, boy bsf! knj, co-worker! knj, husband material! knj, brown hair! knj, sweet! knj, jealous! knj, sad knj:(, pet names, everything’s so complicated and everyone’s in denial, jk's love language is physical touch and acts of service, jk has mommy issues so he's too attached to oc, joonie is so sweet i feel bad for him, gguk will try everything in his power to make oc his, ggukkie lowkey hates joonie lol, this is an actual slow burn yay!
Warnings: mentions of drug use.
⋆ †₊ Series Masterlist
Minors do not interact.
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Smoke surrounds you. For a moment, the noises and lights from the party, once a chaotic blend, seperate distinctly. Each sound creates its own frequency, each beam of light cutting through the haze in sharp lines. Everything around you slows down, the moment captivating you in a trance that would otherwise not been achieved without smoking a certain plant.
Elaine, your best friend, who was sitting to your left, seems to be talking to you. You can't quite grasp what she's saying, but she leaves shortly afterward, leaving you alone in the beautiful backyard of this otherwise dirty frat house. You really were avoiding going inside—the floors were sticky, and it smells funky. Honestly, you didn’t even want to be there. Frat parties aren’t your thing. But Elaine, in apparent need of de-stressing (though later confessing she just wanted to see her latest infatuation, Zia), had dragged you out on a Thursday night. You thought about getting mad and leaving, but she’s your best friend—and every guy here looks like they’d spike her drink—so you stayed. Plus, she bought you a blunt, so it evened out.
As you gazed at the dark-glowing canvas of the night sky, you felt a presence beside you. Skeptically, you glanced to your right, only to find a man staring at you. You jumped.
“Oh my god?” you gasp, eyes wide, hand over your heart.
The guy laughs, clearly amused by your reacton. Trying to figure him out, you took a look at him. He wore a loose white shirt and baggy jeans. Dark hair framed his face. Two rings pierced the right side of his mouth, his right arm covered in tattoos. Honestly, you felt intimidated—frat parties drew all kinds of people, you know? But when you finally met his eyes, the softness of his gaze made him seem far more approachable then you originally thought.
“Will you quit staring?” He teased.
Your cheeks burned. “Oh please, I’m on drugs,” you muttered, looking away, “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Oh, I know. Thought I’d join you on your trip.”
Confused, and extremely thirsty, you asked, “Who are you?”
“Seriously?” He replied, somewhat annoyed. “Jeon Jeongguk. We share a class—U.S History with Mrs. Webster,” He paused, anticipating an answer. He met silence. “No?”
You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m too high to remember anyone from that class.” Thinking it over, you added, “Seriously, though, I don’t think I’ve ever talked to you.”
And that’s because you hadn’t. Jeongguk, though quite popular, found himself completely partner-less tonight. He didn’t like being alone, so when he spotted you, high and alone, he thought he’d try his usual trick with you—pretending he knew you from somewhere. It usually worked.
Not today though. At your response, he was utterly offended. Did you seriously not know who the Jeon Jeongguk was? Even he recognized you—the sharing a class part not being a lie—so it made no sense. Although, he didn’t know your name either, so maybe you did know him, just not his name, and the drugs are clouding him from your memory.
Yeah, he thought, it’s definitely the drugs. “Did you know marijuana causes memory issues?”
You snorted. “Just say you’re offended.”
He shrugged. “What’s got you all alone out here?”
“My horny friend, I guess.” You turn to face him. “You?”
“I was taught to never leave a pretty girl like you alone,”
“Okay, Mr. Charming, please be serious.”
He laughed. “My friends ditched me too.”
“Hm,” You didn’t know what else to say. Usually, you were good at small talk, but you were literally in cloud nine and too thirsty to properly think. “Do you mind getting me some water? I’ve got cotton mouth and don’t want to go inside.”
“It smells wierd doesn’t it?” He scrunched his nose as he replied. You nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
Many chit-chat’s and half a bottle of wine later—Jeongguk found it somewhere in the frat—you both bid goodbye with teary eyes and warm embraces, somehow convinced you’d never see each other again after this party. Both of you not letting go, Elaine and his friends have to literally pry you guys apart, causing everyone to fall comically like dominoes.
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Attempting to open your eyes you rubbed them, immediately closing them as the morning sun assaults your vision. What even happened yesterday? Your head pounded, nausea swirled in your gut. You felt horrible. Trying to go back to sleep, you turned in your bed, feeling the dreaded build-up of saliva once you layed on your side. Uh-oh.
You rushed to your bathroom just in time.
“Elaine?” you half-yelled, wiping your mouth with your hand muffling your voice.
No response. You stumble out of your room and head for the kitchen. There, your find an already-ready best friend cooking god-knows-what.
Looking up at you, she said, “Good morning, Mrs. Jeon,” her tone dripping with mockery.
“What? Mrs. Jeon?” Confused, you try to piece together last night’s events, but it’s no use. Panicking, you exclaimed, “Oh my God, Elaine, what happened yesterday?!”
She looked at you unimpressed. “Oh, nothing much. Just that you and Jeongguk were all over each other yesterday!”
“Jeon who?” You asked.
“Be so serious right now,” She couldn’t believe you. “Y/n, he’s like, super well-known around campus. Rich as hell and a jerk.” She added, “Cheated on Jayla, rejected me when you bet me to hit on him for five dollars.” Elaine huffed with her arms crossed.
Recalling how hilarious that day was, you laughed so hard your headache worsened tenfold. “I might die if I keep laughing,” you stuttered, gripping the kitchen counter for dear life. “Is that why you don’t like him?”
“This isn’t funny! You guys made fools of yourselves last night. I genuinely thought he laced your drink.”
Drink. The word triggers flashes of last night—Jeongguk approaching you, him bringing you water, a bottle of wine somehow appearing in your hands. Blood drained from your face as you remembered how you parted ways—throwing yourself into his arms, him not letting go, literally shedding tears as Elaine dragged you out of the frat’s backyard.
You’ll make sure to never drink again after this.
“Elaine, did I really—”
“Yes, Y/n, you did! Do you know how embarrassing that was? Don’t even get me started on the reputation you just gained yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“All his closest friends were there,” she said, serving her plate with freshly cooked eggs. “They thought you guys fucked or something.”
“Ew?”
“Did you really?” The question almost offended you.
“Stop! God, no, obviously not,” you shuddered. “Just because we hugged?”
“No, because Jeon fucks everything he touches,” she replies matter-of-factly. “He also got a little possessive, he wouldn’t let go.”
“Of me?”
“Yeah, we all fell to the ground because y’all wouldn’t budge. My biceps are sore, no joke.”
You slumped against the counter, hiding your face in disbelief. “Wait so, now people think I’m easy?”
“Yes. Now let’s just hope the rumor didn’t spread outside the frats,” she said, walking out of the kitchen with her plate full of eggs. “People were watching, you know? I almost left you there with that whore. Anyway, you better get ready—your first class starts in 20.”
You sprint to your room.
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“Thanks for saving me a spot.”
Namjoon lifted his backpack from the seat next to him as you slid into it, placing your own bag on the floor.
“No worries, buns,” he said, noticing your wet hair immediately. “Were you in a rush this morning?”
“Tell me about it,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.
“Did you have a night shift yesterday? I don’t recall scheduling you late this week.”
“No, it’s just that Elaine dragged me to this party and I—” You stopped yourself. Were you really going to expose your half-secret to Joonie out in the open? Nuh-uh. “I’m just so hungover. Let’s talk later. Focus on class.”
Although curious as to what happened last night that got you this flustered, Namjoon chose to not push the subject, both of you focusing now on whatever the professor was droning about.
You liked that he always walked you to class. Obviously if his class was far or if he got busy he wouldn’t, but for the most part he did. You found it chivalrous, a trait that most men nowadays lacked. That’s why you liked Namjoon—he was friendly but polite, not shy to ask about your personal life but never stepping any boundaries. Not to mention his other great qualities, like how intelligent or hard working he is. You both had gotten originally close through Yeyo’s café—he trained and guided you along the harsh path of being a first-time barista—and having worked most shifts together, you became each other’s favorite co-worker, mingling whenever and hanging outside of work at times. At these occasional dates, the both of you learnt you shared similar struggles, like not having anyone support you financially or having complicated relationships with your families. All these things made relating to him easier. He never failed to make you laugh or help you see the good in the bad, and for him you were grateful.
Now you’re here—two months later, at the same university—him walking you to class while you complained about the workload your professor just assigned.
“I mean is he kidding? Not everyone has free time like him. I’ve got work!”
“I think his wife’s divorcing him or something,”
You gasp. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled at your reaction. “You know the professor’s assistant?”
“Oh, the one who wants you?” you teased with a grin, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.
Namjoon elbowed you gently. “Stop it,” he muttered. You laughed at his flustered expression.
“Anyway,” he continued, eager to change the subject, “the other day, I stayed after class to ask her for some extra points, but she got off track and started telling me all sorts of things about him.”
“Like what?” you asked, leaning into him with interest.
“Why do you sound excited?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t act like you don’t indulge in professor drama,” you retorted, crossing your arms.
Namjoon chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad,” you shot back, avoiding his gaze.
“Then why won’t you look at me?” he teased.
“Okay, fine! Just tell me what she said, please,” you pouted, grabbing onto his arm, feeling the firmness of his muscles. You knew that whenever you did this, he’d give in—like that one time at the fair when you’d been so thirsty you begged for a water bottle that cost him twenty bucks.
He sighed, giving in as expected. “Well, according to her, his wife wanted a Chanel bag, but the professor wouldn’t buy it for her. Then, she thought he was having an affair, so she looked through his things, but she found out he lied about how much money he’d inherited, so now she’s filing for divorce.”
“Gosh, I almost feel bad for him,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting. “Almost.”
“Meanie,” Namjoon grinned and squeezed your nose.
“Hey! Stop, you’re—” About to punch him for ruining your makeup, he darted away as fast as he could.
“I’ll kill that motherfucker,” you muttered, opening the door of your next class.
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“And I was like, are you dumb?” Elaine exclaimed through the phone.
After your last class, you decided you’d stop by the nurse’s office to get something that would soothe your headache, when you recieved a call from your best friend. Though spontaneous calls weren’t surprising, what she had just informed you was.
Apparently, she met up earlier with Zia, who had the audacity to ask her if she found it embarrassing to have a friend who had slept with Jeongguk. And obviously, her being the bestest, most protective friend ever, denied the rumors going around the frats in attempt of clearing your name.
As you walked out of the nurse’s office and into the bustling campus, she continued, “And I swear, in that moment, I was about to punch her. I mean, I always knew Zia was a little dense, but this? Ugh, it’s infuriating! I don’t even know why we fucked anymore.” She sighed heavily.
You found a bench under a large oak tree and sat down, needing to process everything. You’d been too busy with classes to think much about the previous night’s events, but now, with the day’s tasks behind you, the anxiety started creeping back in.
“Did you guys actually fuck yesterday?” you asked, leaning back against the bench.
“No, we had literally just fucked at the sorority, when she started asking dumb ass questions,” Elaine huffed. “I think I’m never finding love.”
“Don’t say that, E,” you replied, rubbing your temples. “You’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”
Elaine’s voice softened. “How are you holding up, though? I’m sorry for everything. I can’t help but feel responsible,” she added, and you could practically see her pouting on the other end of the line.
You took a deep breath. “Honestly, I was too busy this morning to even care, but now that I have time to think, I kind of just want to hide from everyone.”
“I’m sorry. I love you, okay? Don’t forget that.”
“I love you more.”
“Well I got to go, I’ll see you back at the apartment.”
Listening to the ring which notified the call was over, you finally had some time to process everything. Trying to find where you went wrong, the most controversial thing that happened all night was the fact that you were hanging out with… Jeongyeo? Or was it Jeongyu? Uh, you’ll make sure to ask Elaine later. Anyways, you saw no harm from having an innocent chat with him. All you did was drink with a rich frat college guy— and basically cry to each other but that was too embarrassing to even think about—so your ever crumbling reputation made no sense. You guys didn’t fuck, most certainly didn’t kiss, and by now the guy should’ve cleared the rumors, so why were they making such a fuss over it?
It was all so childish. Yet, despite your attempts to rationalize it, your stomach churned, your hands grew clammy, and your mind raced with anxiety. Every passerby seemed to stare at you with judgmental eyes.
You sighed deeply. This felt like high school all over again. You had to pull yourself together. If these people wanted to make a fuss over nothing and use you as their entertainment, then so be it. You had bigger things to worry about—like paying your bills or pursuing a career. So, with that, you decided to push the drama to the back of your head and refocus on what really mattered, finally finding peace once again in your mind.
And at peace you were.
At least that was the case until you got back home, because as soon as you walked into the apartment, Elaine rushed over, breaking the news to you. “Y/n, you won’t believe this. That miserable old landlord is raising our rent!”
You blinked, trying to process the new discovery. “What? Why?”
“I don’t know,” Elaine threw her hands up in frustration. “I begged him to exclude us from the raise, but he wouldn’t budge. He said it’s either pay up or move out.”
Trying your hardest not to kill him right now, you paused. What were you going to do now?
Trying to keep an optimistic outlook, you replied, “Look, I know it’ll be hard, but we can do this. Let’s just take extra shifts at work and start looking for an affordable place to stay at.”
She wasn’t sure about your proposition. You both worked long hours as is, not to mention how time consuming and disrupting it was for school.
“Y/n, we barely get to sleep some days,” Elaine said so lowly it was almost a whisper. Finding the situation impossible, she added, “I’m dropping out.”
You scoffed, “Are you crazy? You’re not doing that,”
“What else is there to do Y/n?” She frowned.
Lips pursed, you racked your brain trying to come up with a solution. Dropping out was not an option, and if keeping your education meant being homeless, then so be it. You both had a car, so maybe you guys could sleep there until you found a new place. And if you had to shower, you could probably just ask Namjoon if-
“Oh my god! Namjoon!” You yelled as you reached for your phone.
“What? Y/n what are you doing?”
Dialing Namjoon’s number, you replied with a smile on your face, “Pack your stuff, we’re crashing Joonies place.”
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Author: pls this took me long enough to post and im not sure i even like it lmfoaoaoa. nobody told me how hard and time consuming this was. anyways yall if it sucks LMK ! i’ll make sure to burn this post down if it sucks ass. shout out to anyone who finished reading the first chapter of this series ! omm ilysm. i’ll also try to comment the people who wanted to be added to my taglist, hopefully it works. bye !
This is a work of fiction. The scenes, characters and events depicted are purely fictional and not intended to represent real-life procedures or individuals. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Do not use this story as your own.
@jeoncasino 2024 ©
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twst-drabbles · 2 months ago
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Jamil 17
Summary: You and Jamil lay in his bed in his dorm room. While you’re very tired, you’re visibly not bothered by the social implications of being in the bed of another. Jamil, on the other hand, is a little too aware.
(I saw the birthday card and went “eh, why not?” and wrote this.)
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Was this something common in your world? Where, out of nowhere, people will just casually ask their friends if they can sleep with them in their bed? Because that’s what you did to Jamil. You approached him, luckily out of earshot from anyone important, and asked that very question with zero shame.
“Hey Jamil? Mind if I sleep with you in your bed tonight?”
Jamil will admit, it took him a good five seconds for him to register the words. And, he will also admit that he banged his knee against the table he was cleaning. Hit it so hard actually that he curled up into a ball, and practically retreated into his hoodie because why would you ask that?! In broad daylight?!
But you know what’s the worst part about all this? Jamil actually got excited. Giddy even! When the hot flush flooding through his body finally settled, all that was left was this glowing feeling.
At the time, he thought that his charms have finally got to you. That all his efforts to be in your good graces have begun to bear fruit.
And so he said, “You know what? Yes, let’s do that. Setting aside the way you asked that, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive that.”
Past him’s an idiot. For all those times he thought himself above the hormonal college students, turns out Jamil was no better. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he was humbled.
And so here Jamil lays on his side of the bed, dressed in his best pajamas, surrounded by the best sheets and pillows he uses for special occasions, and you laying on your stomach, reading the next chapter for one of your classes.
You came in with a tired wave, bag at hand, and flopped over in his bed. And you’ve been in that pose since.
“So, this was what you meant.” Jamil said. Now that his judgment is clear again after an hour of doing nothing, he really should’ve known you didn’t mean anything special by what you asked. Shame on him for expecting an extra meaning to them.
“Hmm? Oh, was the way I asked weird?” You glanced towards him. Jamil recognizes that exhausted look weighing in your eyes. Perhaps, through the rose-tinted glasses, Jamil didn’t notice. Once again, shame on him. Jamil should suffocate himself with these pillows. “Sorry about that. I just really want one good night of sleep. Just one.”
The urge to hit himself with the pillows lessened. Jamil moved onto his stomach, and copied your position, propping his chin on the pile. “Is there something wrong with your bed?”
You put your phone down. “Weather’s getting hotter and I still don’t have a working air con. It gets so humid at night that I sweat through the night. Can barely get more than three hours of sleep at a time.”
…of course the headmage would neglect to give you something as simple as a stable heating and cooling. Leave it to him to ignore your problems while he goes off doing whatever else. Probably binge watching an old drama that’s not even any good.
“I can’t imagine it’s been easy to deal with. Though, I have to ask, why my bed? You have others that you’re closer to, don’t you?”
Others such as Ace and Deuce, but Jamil didn’t want to say their names. It’s childish but he doesn’t want to see if your eyes light up at their mere mention.
You stretched your spine and settled down. “Yeah I know other people, but–how do I say this–they’ll make it weird.”
Weird? Like how Jamil preparing everything from the lights, to the blankets and even stuffing his drawer with extra wipes just in case wasn’t weird? What?
“Wait, what you mean by weird?” Now Jamil’s worried. Did something happen for you to say that? Did someone do something to you?
You waved off his concern. “Well, see, originally I was just going to ask Rook since he doesn’t mind sharing spaces with anyone, but he’s also very into cuddling and I’m not in the mood for that.”
“That’s true, he’s very open about that kind of thin–wait you cuddled him before?” Since when?
“Cuddled him plenty of times. Rook gives the best hugs without trying to flirt with me. Anyways, Rook wasn’t an option, and neither are Ace and Deuce since there’s no room to spare. There was Leona but after that whole ordeal with Azul, I really don’t want to go back there. And as for asking Azul himself… I feel like he’d charge me for that. So, here I am.”
Oh. Well, when putting it like that, it does make sense doesn’t it? So long as you don’t figure out exactly what went through his head when you asked. He’ll just keep quiet about that.
Jamil sighed into his pillow. “While I want to ask why you didn’t ask Kalim, but I know him too well. A peaceful rest isn’t something he can give, not with the way he sleeps.”
You patted his shoulder and it took everything in Jamil to not jump out of his skin. “You get it. So, yeah, thanks Jamil, for not saying no. Honestly, I was ready to find an empty classroom and just sleeping in there.”
Jamil narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that. You’ll get in trouble. Just sleep here for the time being. When I have time, I’ll see about pestering Crowley into getting everything in order.”
“You do too much for me, Jamil. Really.”
While things didn’t play out the way he wanted to, the warmth flooding in his chest has not once went away. If anything, from the sight of your smile, it threatened to overflow.
This is nice, that you trust him like this.
“…alright, this is still bothering me. How did you and Rook even start cuddling in the first place?”
And can he add himself onto that list of people you cuddle with?
“Hahaha, yeah that is strange, right? Alright, may as well tell you.”
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firemenenthusiast · 2 months ago
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hi hi! I wanna say I love your writing and love that you’re on the Archie train rn - I do have a lil request so I know most people think Farleigh is like submissive but I would love one where he’s like super dominant and for smut he’s like basically leaves you crying from overstimulation and makes you come a lot but like in a fun way not necessarily toxic (which isn’t bad either but yeah) (((: idk I feel like he’s a switch and could be both dominant and submissive
oh my god dom!farleigh finally out ! thank you so so SO very much anon for being so patient with me and i am incredibly sorry for making you wait this long :’(
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—“casual”
dom!farleigh x fem!reader
summary: there’s a reason why you should never talk about farleigh behind his back
warning: 18+, smut, pwp, unprotected sex, rough sex (dom!farleigh), brat tamer! farleigh, free use, degradation kink, farleigh and reader sounds like fuckbuddies, cunnilingus, slapping, name calling (slut & whore) (sorry) (not sorry), praise kink, petnames (baby, sweetheart & doll) oral fixation, face-fucking, mirror sex, cock-slapping, spitting, making out, overstimulation, blowjobs, dacryphilia, throat fucking, mating press, teabagging, facial, cum eating, creampie, cervix fucking, ruined orgasm, foul language, humiliation, aftercare, fluff at the end
a/n: i really hope this is okay with what you’ve imagined anon, as writing dom!farleigh is by far my hardest work yet. literally pondered on this piece for months. enjoy ! teehee <3 also keep reading, it gets better
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“can you believe it ? like— im not even asking for much but he’s just so, ugh” the girl sitting over at the end of the couch complains. you’re sitting in a circle, well not quite a circle, but it’s a bunch of girls just lounging, sitting and talking about what’s currently bothering them. and this time, the topic is boyfriends. cliché, but they can really be a pain in the ass according to these girls. you’re not sure if you can relate, given that you do not have a boyfriend. but you do have farleigh, whatever you’re calling him. he’s never bothered to put a label on it, and certainly never bothered to ask you to be his girlfriend. “oh my god yes” you hear one of the girls agreeing, followed by the others nodding and grabbing at each others thighs
“what about you ? i mean, we certainly heard a lot about farleigh” one of the girls asks you, snickering at the end of her sentence. everyone around campus is familiar with how farleigh’s relationships never end peacefully. they always end with a series of drama that apparently everyone is tuned in on. it’s like a ‘what did farleigh do this time ?’ show, that airs every couple of months. the common hall massacre from farleigh’s last hook up is still being talked about till this day and it’s been like what, six months ? you don’t know why even after seeing those messy events where farleigh always looked like he couldn’t care less, you still ended up in his bed at the end of the very party where he first laid his eyes on you. i guess when thee farleigh start shows you even the slightest of interest, you have no other option but to give in. it’s like a once in a lifetime opportunity, and one must be strong enough to resist the temptation of getting with the tall, golden skinned brunette. you— ? you just don’t have it in you.
pursing your lips, you quietly force an awkward smile to yourself, practically eye rolling. ofcourse they would be interested. you shut your eyes for a moment before blinking to every eyes focusing on you. truth be told, you dont like talking about farleigh to people, especially to answer invasive questions like this. you already feel so insecure with whatever kind of relationship you have with farleigh, so having people try to peek into it puts you in a very uncomfortable position. “what about him ?” you raise your eyebrows with your question-response in a desperate attempt to push farleigh off the topic. “girl how’s your boyfriend ? is he great or…” one of the girls tease, flipping her hair over her shoulder, trying her best to provoke an answer from you, preferrably a piece of gossip that she could spread to her girlfriends at uni.
“he’s not my boyfriend” you let out quietly, head low, correcting their assumptions that it’s an established relationship, earning a swarm of mutter from throughout the group. some of them already exhanging knowing looks and giggling to each other. well isn’t this just humiliating. “how come ?” the blonde serves you with yet another question, tone obvious that she’s just mongering for gossip. the sudden light dust prickling at your eyeballs are being wiped away by a heavy blink from you. all these questions evoke a sudden rage from within. she’s right. yeah, how come ? how come you’ve been letting farleigh fuck you anytime he wants when he doesn’t ever bother to make you his girlfriend. you’ve realised a long ago that it’s unlikely that you’re gonna be a couple but everyone seems to think the two of you are exclusive by the way none of you have been caught fucking anyone else.
noticing your expression, she decides to spare you the humiliation and just move on to her next question even though the former hasn’t been answered. the situation is making you awfully quiet, and it’s not just because you barely knew any of these girls, you just thought sitting with them in this mild get-together at farleigh’s mansion might offer you some sort of entertainment. never have you thought that you’re the one who’s gonna be the entertainment. the thick buzz at the top of your head confuses you between the exhaustion of talking to obnoxious young adults invited tonight or the weariness of knowing that you’re just a toy to farleigh. at first you didn’t really care, but after a while the boy’s starting to grow on you. sometimes he does care, the way he always walk you back to your dorm after a long night of doing your activities. but most of the times you tell yourself that it’s just common courtesy, and he could be doing that to any girl he wants.
“ah fuck that, how’s the sex ?” was her other question, which was followed by daunting whoops of teasings from the girls. still, every pair of eyes is set on you and it’s gotta be on the top list of your most uncomfortable situation. however the unusual bitterness towards farleigh at the moment gags your desire to shit talk about him to these girls. as you search for something bad to say, you realise that you don’t have anything to complain. guess you’d just have to lie then. straightening your shoulders and throwing your neck back, you lean your back on your propped up arms against the floor.
“have you ever heard that he’s good in bed from anyone ?” you start, which earns eager head shakes from the girls.
“well that’s because he fucking sucks. cums too fast, and guess what ? you’d think he’d atleast bother to make the girl-“ you gesture to yourself, “-cum first, but that’s none of his business it seems” the small piece of information being sought out to the public like that leaves the girls wide-eyed, with some of them dramatically placing their palms against their chest. you feel horrible for lying, and it just registered in your head that this will go terribly wrong knowing that it’ll spread around like an infection. “oh my god. really ?” the blonde attempts to fuel to the fire mid-burning the whole place down, her blue eyes almost popping out of her head, gouging for more info from you.
nodding, you catch yourself feeding her with yet another lie. “fucking sloppy, is what he is. moans like a bitch too. i should’ve been fucking his cousin by now, which, i don’t even know why i haven’t” the last part of this whole unbased shit talk feels too much for you, as you mentally wince at how untrue just all the things you said. the whole room is filled with various sounds of gasping, giggling and overall indefinable mutters. if you were being honest, you’re still not going to tell them how you’re willing to beg for his cock, telling him to make you his cum dump, as long as you get to be fucked by him. you raise your head to examine each of their faces, subtly biting on your bottom lips at their reactions.
it was a small get-together afterall, so you wouldn’t be suprised that some of the hallways in the house are ominously empty at this hour. you could still hear a distinct chatter and music from behind the other walls but as you briskly walk towards the left wing of the mansion, your wrist is suddenly being grabbed from behind, before your whole body is being caged against the wooden wainscot on the wall, pair of huge palms snaking themselves across your forearms. “farleigh—“ you huff out, neck craned to give access to the pair of lips trailing hot, wet kisses across your skin. the tall figure caging and pressing against your body is making you whimper out a small moan, to which he lets out a chuckle. you always make it so easy for him.
wrapping his fingers around your wrist in a firm grab, he brings them above your head before moving his lips towards your soft ones, a string of saliva shining on the flesh with each breath the both of you are taking. his touches grazes your skin delicately, dragging you into becoming an addict. you suck in a deep breath through your nose as you return the kiss, tongue darting to lick on his bottom ones, earning a smile from him. “i’ve missed you” he teases, while running his fingertips along your waistband, knowing the two of you only parted ways when his friendgroup approached him, which later lead you to the wrongful confessions with the girls earlier. words like these makes you long for his affection, spending your sleepless nights thinking about the feelings you may or may not have caught for him. he huffs out against your face, forehead resting against each other as you feel his hot breath on your skin. he leans down to chase your lips for yet another kiss, your noses nudging against each other only for him to hover over your lips with a teasing grin, making you grow desperate from the phantom kiss.
his large hands rest on the curve of your waist when you push him back by his broad chest, both your fingers sprawled over the fabric of his linen. he’s ridiculously good at maintaining his balance all while being pushed back with his head leaning down, still kissing you, his pretty curls grazing the skin on your cheeks. he’s so pretty, the type of pretty that makes you want to look at him all day, the type of pretty that you’d fall for. the way he kisses you could make anyone believe that he’s in love, yet he never cared to let you know, or tell you that this is just a fling for him. you already know where this is going, as you were on your way to find him in his room anyways. you let out a small giggle when he almost toppled back over a bump on the carpet, before he joins you with a low chuckle against your lips.
“c’mon, farleigh—“ whining, you’re half begging for him to just pick you up and carry you to his bed, which, like he could read you mind, he does. “i know, baby”. you’re clinging onto him with your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands cupping his face to deepen the kiss as you feel the growing bulge poking at your thighs. humming into the kiss, he pulls away momentarily to lean you against the wooden door of his room, turning the both of you to hold you against the door, forcing it to shut, all while his tongue licks your taste off yours.
you could feel his desperation grow from his kiss as your fingers work eagerly unbuttoning his shirt. he fumbles with the back of your dress, reaching to undo the string, heavy pants escaping both your lips, practically clawing at each other. after peeling the linen off his shoulder and pulling it down to throw it on the floor, you watch him move recklessly. “fucking get this off” he groans, as you reach to the back to help him. everything is moving so fast, and you glad it does as it seems to be impossible to remain patient with each of farleigh’s touch against your skin. it’s like a craving, an addiction, as desperation fills the thick air inside the room more then the hot breath puffing from your lips.
as soon as you’re left only with the matching set of underwear, farleigh wastes no time picking you back up to throw you on the bed, his body flush against yours as his kisses down your body are starting to get wet. between his fingers raking around your waist and his mouth sucking on the skin of your collarbone leaving wet bruises all across it, you feel yourself getting lost in the haziness, unable to mutter a single coherent sentence. all that could be let out past your lips are whines and moans, as your fingertips graze against his scalp, pulling at the root of his curls. you feel helpless, exposed and needy for him and only him, to do something. once you feel his lips kissing dangerously close to your cunt, sucking and licking especially hard on the flesh of your inner thighs, you find yourself reaching for his face. “farleigh please,,” you let out pleas after pleas, begging for his lips to be where you need him the most. paying no mind to you, he continues placing his marks across your inner thigh and the spot closest to the hem of your panties with his palms smoothing over the skin on your torso.
he’s humming in between kisses, his eyes rips themselves from focusing on marking your skin to look directly into yours, maintaining eye contact. if it wasn’t for the growing bulge in his pants, he’d be willing to spend the rest of his time just looking into your eyes. tilting his head down, he pushes the crotch of your panties to the side, breaking eye contact for a moment to look at the dripping mess in front of him, grinning at how soaked your folds are, making your eyebrows knit. the way your pussy glisten with your wetness gotta be one of his favourite views ever. feeling the ache down your core starts to throb, you can’t help the pitchy moan slipping past your lips and the sudden bucking of your hips into his face. “don’t make me beg farleigh, please” the words coming out of your mouth contradicting each other. before you could add to your complaints, you feel his swollen lips smashing against your folds, his tongue hot, licking away all the wetness collecting and dripping towards your hole. he has one hand holding you down by your waist, and another rubbing on your pussy, spreading the folds apart so his tongue could have better access. the fingers on your pussy roam down to your hole, pushing your clit upwards so he could settle his whole face in between your thighs, his nose repeatedly nudging against your clit. driving his face into your pussy, it’s like he’s stuffing his face with your essence, eager to lick away every drop of wetness dripping down your folds as he feels like nothing tastes better. he hums, sending vibrations through the sensitive nerves, fishing out another whine from you.
“gonna cum, farleigh. please make me cum” the words come out of your mouth like water, without you even having time to think it before. as the knot in your lower stomach begins to get tighter with each sucking of his lips on your folds, he knows you’re seconds away from cumming. you could feel the wave of pleasure threatening to wash down over you, as you’re willing to give up everything to chase after it, even your dignity. shutting your eyes, your fingers harshly grab at the sheets beneath you, as farleigh suddenly rips his mouth away from your pussy, moving over to stand at the edge of the bed, his eyes busy eyeing his hands that are unbuckling his belt. “what the fuck—?!” you almost yelled, anger and dissatisfaction tearing through your voice as you look at farleigh in disbelief. the orgasm that you were chasing is washing away, leaving your pussy feeling so raw and swollen.
he throws you an unbothered look with an eyebrow quirked, his lips shiny from eating you out. “sorry, apparently i’m just not bothered to let the girl cum first” the coy expression on his face obvious, the slight curl at the side of his lips quickly being stripped away. “—isn’t that right ?” he continues, leaning over with his knee dipping into the mattress, his propped arm settling beside your temple, his face inches away from your muted one. the furrowed eyebrows that were accompanying your anger dropped down, as your glossy eyes now being forced to look into his intimidating ones. you could feel that he’s not happy, but none of his expressions tell that, except that you’re fucked.
you hear him let out a chuckle as he leans back, both his knees on either side of your body, resting his weight on your torso. “you should see the look on your face sweetheart” he tsks, shaking his head at you heavy breathing, still affected by the orgasm that he just ripped off from your core. no words could be lolled out of your tongue and you could only shake your head as an attempt to save yourself. he cocks his head to the side before his eyes widen,
“no, i mean it”
moving his knee over your body, farleigh moves to the side of the bed before reaching over to cup the back of your neck, pulling you up to push you off the bed by your neck, forcing you to sit infront of the body sized mirror by his nightstand. you’re kneeling, your hands are forced to prop yourself up from face planting on the hard floor, ass is sticking out on full display giving him the perfect view. oh how he loves when you’re exposed like this for him and no one else.
before you could even react to being pulled off the bed, his fingers already curl themselves across your skin, wrapped around your neck, pulling you upstraight so you could only look at your reflection in the mirror, and his smug face while he crouches down. “look at yourself, such a pretty face-“ he starts, fingers moving to push your cheeks together, his arms pressing down your chest so you’re resting against his shoulder.
“-but so. fucking. dumb.” he says, tapping roughly on your cheek after each words.
the last part of his sentence heavy, emphasizing on how stupid you are that you couldn’t even think before going off telling people such lies. “you know what i love to do with a pretty face that doesn’t know when to shut up ?” he trails off, letting go off your face to continue unbuckling his belt, the metal of the buckle clinking, before unbuttoning and pulling the zipper down.
“as if you know when to shut up” you spit out, trying to retaliate against his words.
he offers you an amused look before shaking his head and smile. “i love when you prove me right“ farleigh chuckles as he looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, before pulling down his pants, along with his boxers, making his now fully hard length that was straining in his pants spring up, hitting the trail of hair on his lower belly. no matter how many times you’ve seen and been fucked by him, you still think he’s huge. he’s perfectly girthy, his tip always flushes a deep shade of pink and his cock’s just as pretty as him.
he steps closer towards you, reaching down to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pulling you up, forcing you to stand on your knees. he looks at you with that grin you could never crack the meaning of, as you watch his other hand move to grab the base of his cock. his firm grip pulling at your scalp leaves you quiet, as you could only glance between his face, and the leaking cock in his hand. with your head in his one hand and his heavy length in the other, your eyes are on the same level of his waist where you could hear the loud sound of him spitting into his hand, as it lands on his length. the lewd, loud squelching sound of him stroking saliva all over his cock right beside your face makes you clench around nothing
sighing, he pulls your face towards his crotch before starting to slap his hard cock against your cheek. you’re starting to feel degraded to a mere sextoy with the way he’s smearing his cock all over your face, the sensitive tip tapping at your swollen lips. his long digits wrapped around the base serves a great purpose of aiming his slick length so it slaps heavy against your face, bouncing against the skin again and again, omitting loud slapping sounds. “i don’t even know what i’ve ever done to you-“ he starts, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.
“-but you don’t talk about me that way, baby”
he stops the slapping of his cock to wipe it all over your face instead, repeatedly moving his shaft over your nose as it makes him groan in pleasure. your pretty face is covered with the slick of saliva and precum, you hair a mess and sticking all over your face. as soon as he finishes his sentence, your entire reflection on the mirror is being blocked by his legs stepping in front of you, so he could roughly shove his hard cock past your lips, pushing it down your throat. the sudden pressure at the back of your tongue makes you gag, as tears start forming on your waterline. you’re starting to regret the things you said just for the one minute of validation. farleigh has never done anything like this to you, but you know this is not going to end anytime soon.
“shh…shh- it’s okay, im just gonna fuck this mouth slow and nice. is that good ?” he coos, his hips begins thrusting into your mouth, starting nice and slow before quickly changing to a rapid pace in a split second, not allowing you to adjust at all. he’s now properly fucking your mouth, and if you didn’t already feel like a cocksleeve, you certainly do now.
“there you go, you’ve always been so good at sucking my cock. you’re a proper slut you know that ?” he mutters through gritted teeth, both his large hands cradling your head, slamming your face down his cock, heavy balls slapping against your slicked chin from all the drool dripping down your lips. looking up at him, you try to blink away the glossiness of your eyes as you give him an obeying look, seeking for his approval. “oh that’s cute, you’re my little slut aren’t you ?” the whiny moans you’re letting out sends vibrations, further stimulating his cock. “aww mouth too full of cock you can’t even answer” giving you a fake pout on his lips, he pulls out for a moment to let you answer, yet you’re keeping your mouth shut. “i said-“ he yanks your hair as he leans down close to your face, “-you’re my little slut aren’t you ?” you almost topple back before nodding vigorously,
“yes, yes—“
“yes what ?”
“yes i am, farleigh”
your quick response earns a satisfied grin from him before your mouth is back to being stuffed by his hard cock. you try your best not to gag too hard on his length as you know farleigh wouldn’t appreciate that. even with him treating you like you’re worthless, you’re still eager to please him. maybe you are indeed a slut. his slut.
the rapid movements of your head bobbing down his shaft and his hips thrusting into your mouth makes your hands roam up his thighs for leverage, as you look up at him through your lashes. he thinks you look so cute like this, so he offers you a smile from above, the tip of your nose hitting into his lower belly repeatedly. you could feel his thrust getting even faster before one last throw of his head and he’s pushing your mouth off his cock, messy strings of saliva connecting from your lips to his swollen tip, his balls dripping with sticky translucent substance that you couldn’t even tell. could be drool, or precum, or a mixture of both of your fluids. his cock is now resting against his navel, as it bounces with every move farleigh makes. he’s now pulling you up by your arms, the state of you so pathetic that if it were to be described, you’re nothing short of fucked and cockdrunk.
“c’mon sweetheart, hands and knees. need to fuck your pussy” his instructions loud and clear, as your body is being thrown like a doll onto the mattress. and like it’s instinct you immediately crawl onto the bed and prop your ass up, your legs apart, back arching with your face dropped down between the sheets. “i know you’re a good girl” he smiles, hands roaming across the smooth skin of your ass before swiftly pulling down your panties, revealing your soaking wet puffy lips, practically begging to be fucked. “well that’s a sight felix is certainly missing out on” the sight before him makes his cock twitch, a drop of precum forming at the tip before he catches it in his fingers to spread it along his length. getting onto the mattress, his pants already discarded and pooling beside the bed.
he crawls over you to rub his length against your folds, collecting the wetness that’s practically drenching his cock, before thrusting into your hole without warning. a cracked loud moan from your lips grazes both your ears as you give up against the sheets, your sobs being muffled by the soft fabric underneath you. he’s not in the mood of making you feel good as he’s only focused on fucking the dumb out of you and letting his anger out. he’s making you take his cock like a good girl he knows you are, as you struggle to adjust to the stretch of his size. he’s angry, well more like irritated, when he walked by the living room looking for you, only to hear you talking shit about him, and telling pathetic lies with no substance. there hasn’t been one fuck where farleigh doesn’t make you cum first, and he certainly fucks you like nobody else. so when you went off feeding those plastic blondes fake gossip just to appeal to them, of course he’s mad.
his large chest is now pushing down against your back, his large hand found it’s way at the back of your neck, holding your head down that your face is being mushed against the sheets. his harsh thrusts push your body back and forth, your face pressed down so hard to the point that the only sound you could let out are heavy cries and sobs, incoherent mumbles of pleads of his name as you’re being brought to your orgasm while he’s still rapidly fucking into you. “farleigh— mngh,, ohmygod“ in a way you sound like you’re worshipping him, while he’s ball deep inside your cunt, the tip of his cock bruising your cervix.
normally he would help you chase your high down but he doesn’t care. “i’ve never made you cum huh ? you can cum all you want now baby” his words are starting to get to you, as your pussy’s starting to feel so raw. another wave of orgasm come crashing down, leaving you a lightheaded babbling mess. you’re now actually crying for him, tears streaming down your face, shoulders bobbing, as both tears and drool wet the sheets underneath. “no more,, please. s’too much” you manage to let out weakly, your fingers gripping at the poor fabric desperately. suddenly you feel like he’s grown much larger than he usually does.
looking at your fucked up state, he let out a chuckle. “but i thought you wanted this ?” he mocks, he knows that you’re just too fucked up to even make up your mind. you feel so stretched out by his girth, and the position grants him the perfect access to fully fuck his cock into your pussy, thrusting forward in a rough rapid pace into the mattress. “you think felix could fuck you like this ?” he groans, making you shake your head desperately almost like you’re being hypnotised. “n-no,,no- hm“ you let out in response, your voice bumpy from his thrusts that are making your whole body shake. the whole situation is feeding the primal urge in him, as he grunts while biting down the skin at the back of your neck, his hand grabbing at your hair, pulling your head back to lift your face off the drool-drenched sheets. his other hand is holding you close by your stomach, lowering his hand to feel the moving bulge on your lower belly.
“feel that ? that’s my cock- so… fucking deep inside you. so maybe next time you wanna talk shit, fuck-“ he half whispers into your ear through gritted teeth, as his thrusts are starting to falter. both your hot cheeks are being pressed together as he talks right into your ear. “-remember how pathetic you look right now” he finishes off his sentence with one hard thrust, his hot body pressing down against yours before warm sticky substance fills up your hole, drops of it threatening to spill from the brim. you feel his chest resting on your back, he’s catching his breath as he pants into your ear with his hand wrapped around your neck.
“oh fuck,,” he lets out, voice thick with his remaining pants as he watch the cum oozing out of your cunt when he pull his softening cock out. he’s leaning back on his heels, admiring his work, ropes of white leaking down your puffy swollen lips, a low groan escapes his lips when he notices your hole clenching around nothing, pushing out more of his cum. smiling, he reaches over to squeeze your thigh, grabbing at the soft flesh. “such a filthy whore, letting me use this pussy like a toy” he lets out, his words making you feel so dirty. “aren’t you, baby ?” he coos, running his fingers across your chin. letting out a huge content sigh before hearing you mumble out a string out words. “what’s that, hm ?” leaning down, he moves closer to your lolled out face to hear you.
“you came too quick” you struggled to let out those words, yet still determined to try and piss him off.
raising his eyebrows, he seems surprised by your little protest before you feel his fingers slowly smooth over your hair, petting your head.
“i know. and that’s your job to get me hard again”
hearing his words, instant remorse washing over you as you feel him flip you over, that you’re now lying on your back, facing him. he looks even bigger, shoulders broad and glistening in sweat, making you feel like he could cage you in any moment now. his cheeks look flushed and red, his lips pink and swollen yet he never looked prettier. your hands immediately move up to hold onto his thighs, now being on either side of your upper body as his cock is hanging right in front of your face. the remainder of his cum that is clinging onto his tip drips down, landing onto your lips before his fingers push your cheeks open, shoving his cock into your mouth as he tries to fit the whole length inside.
his limp cock feels odd on your tongue at first, but you immediately start sucking on his length. “come on, doll” he urges you, eager to be able to fuck you again. you mentally flinch at the name he’s calling you, as it really makes you feel filthy. deep down you absolutely love filling your mouth full, and sucking on his cock. anything to please farleigh. he’s thrusting his hips down to your face, circling it so now it’s his balls turn to be shoved into your mouth, before being absolutely slobbered with saliva. in no time he’s getting hard again, making it easier for him to fuck into your mouth, only to pull it out and replace it with his balls again, and doing so repeatedly until he feels just. you have your eyes closed, your lips busy fondling and kissing at each of his sack, your tongue covering them with drool.
farleigh is holding onto the headboard, grunts spilling from his mouth from how good you’re worshipping his cock. as he tilt his head down, he can’t help the moan slipping past his lips at you sucking at the underside of his balls. now that he’s fully hard again, he reaches down to grab at the base of his shaft before putting the entire heavy weight of it onto your face, rubbing his length all over your soft skin, like he did earlier.
too weak to form coherent sentences to him, you manage to drag out a mumbled “please…farleigh”. you hear him let out a satisfied hum as you close your eyes, letting the feeling of his wet cock sliding on your face takes control. the length of his cock almost covering your face as he’s contemplating just fucking his cock against the skin of your face into nothing. everything’s just so wet now, his sweaty body against yours, your face warm and sticky with sweat, tears and his cum, with his balls dripping with your drool. you’re too cockdrunk to even protest, letting him use you like a cum rag, wiping the cum off his cock on your skin, your pussy throbbing from another orgasm you just had undone just from how lewd this is.
“you make such a good whore, y’know ? im gonna need to fuck your pussy again” almost immediately after saying that, he’s lifting your upper body up, making you sit while he moves behind you to let your frail body rest against his. “let me have one last fuck okay ?” he whispers into your ear, your eyelids heavy as you slowly nod. his fingers tap at your thigh, signalling you to raise your hips. he has one arm wrapped around you, pulling you up onto his lap as you feel the tip of his hard cock slip back into your cunt with the guide of his other hand. you’re now sitting on his lap, legs bent and all spread out to give access to him. he could feel the stickiness of his cum left inside you engulfing his length, that is reaching deeper, bumping into your cervix. ”fuck, could feel my cum inside you—” the stretch of his cock against your wall is squeezing his cum back out of your hole as low moans escape both of your lips. he begins thrusting at a continued pace, much like before, making your body bounce on his lap. you let out a high pitched moan, your folds still swollen as you mumble out “m’too much farleigh- no more,, please” he ignores your whines and moans, fucking up into you like he’s been starved of it.
he reaches up to grope your tits, that have fallen out of your bra when he was ramming into you earlier. this is the first time tonight that farleigh’s even bothered to touch your nipples as he normally would’ve been too attached to sucking on your mounds by now. the lack of attention to your hard nipples got them too sensitive as you feel like screaming when farleigh tweaks one of them in between his fingers. he’s cupping one of your tits in his large hand while the other one bounces hard with each of his rapid thrusts up your sensitive walls. the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs fills the room as you start to feel your maybe 5th orgasm coming, having lost count- as his thrusts suddenly stop. “nooo,, no- please don’t make me” you start whining at the sudden stop of his movements, shaking your head helplessly to try to get him to change his mind. you know this move so well, he always make you do it when you’re on his lap.
he’s gonna make you fuck yourself on his cock.
“you know the drill pretty girl” his voice firm, not leaving any space for your antics. your head resting against his shoulder feels too heavy to be lifted off, but that’s just you being a brat. you show no signs of moving, with your arms flailing weakly in his embrace. you hear him let out a sigh before being followed by a low groan, lifting you off his lap and flipping you over. you’re now sprawled open in front of him, cold air grazing across your pussy makes you shiver. he pushes his weight down against your thighs with his hands, putting you in a mating press. all you got to do was let out a gasp before a harsh slap from his large hand stings across your face. “i gave you plenty of chances-” he lets out as you feel another slap lands on your cheek
“-but you never seem to appreciate them”
another slap. and another.
you’re moaning, enjoying being treated so harshly by him. as your tears stained cheeks turn red and a new stream of tears are threatening to spill, you try begging for mercy with a weak attempt, “mmh- please, farleigh,,”. your final whiny plea is immediately being cut short by another slap, this one stings especially hard, making you think that he hates you. he’s now grabbing at the flesh at the back of your thighs, fully pressing your thighs against your tits, before his hips start thrusting into your pussy again. wet, squelching sound bouncing off the walls as your wetness start splattering all over the sheets. the shame and humiliation makes you start sobbing again, your breathing heavy as you struggle to take his cock that’s protruding against your walls.
he notices your heavy breathing, yet he has no intentions of slowing down. “you’re breathing like you’re doing all the work, fuck— “ you hear him say. his thrusts after doesn’t last long before he immediately pulls out, his hand quickly reaching down to continue the pressure on his cock. “oh fuck. fuck, fuck—“, strings of curses leave his mouth. stroking his shaft with a tight fist, his pace rapid, desperate and sloppy before his hips begin to fuck into his fist, his balls slapping against his knuckles. “fffuck, fuck yes-” staggering moans spill out of his mouth, making him look pathetic. his voice almost cracks before he’s moving up your body, his hand still pumping his cock rapidly before he’s cumming, spurting warm seed all over your pretty face. it’s not as much as before, but your face’s still covered by his cum, your tongue licking away the drops landing on your lips. you hear him let out a deep sigh, heavy panting before collapsing onto your body.
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inspecting his actions closely, your mind still hazy, your face messy with tear stained cheeks, with some still clinging onto your lashes. farleigh had wiped the remnants of his cum off your face, it was the first thing he did after coming back with a bowl of warm fresh water and a piece of cloth. he’s already dressed in his comfy clothes, carefully cleaning your skin with the warm soft cloth. he’s meticulous, like he always is with everything. you look to the side to see a glass of water and a mini chocolate bar that he’d fetched when he left the room which to be honest, you thought he was gonna leave you, all alone and still fragile. looking out the window, the sky’s already starting to gain its light as it’s starting to look a lighter shade of blue. he’s quiet, eyes focused as only his fingers are moving carefully, cleaning off every inch of your body. just as he makes sure you’re all clean and comfortable, you’re surprised when he crawls up closely beside you, snuggling down as he reaches for the soft comforter to wrap the both of you underneath it.
“i thought you were gonna leave”
“not gonna leave my girlfriend alone”
the name hits you like a boulder making you perk up, eyebrows knitted as you realised that you were never his girlfriend. you turn to face him who’s already near dozing off,
“please go to sleep” he mutters out his last words before dozing off for real, pulling you closer into his arms.
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taglist: @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @farleighlover @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @inglourious-imagines
dividers by: @rookthornesartistry
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spookysteddie · 10 months ago
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That Friday Night
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Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader
read part one here
18+ MINORSDNI
cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)
wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)
a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!
...
You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 
But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 
Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’
They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 
However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 
Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 
“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 
You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 
Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 
Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 
“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 
… 
You should’ve changed your mind. 
You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 
You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 
Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 
“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 
God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 
You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 
“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 
“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 
Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 
Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 
“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 
You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 
You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 
Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 
It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.
Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 
Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 
“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 
“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 
His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 
Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 
He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 
You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 
Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 
“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 
Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 
He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 
Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 
“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 
God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   
A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 
“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 
Photos are fine. 
Everyone must be tagged. 
Nothing negative. 
Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 
That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 
You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 
You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 
Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 
He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 
But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 
… 
By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 
Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 
“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 
Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 
“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 
Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 
And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?
Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 
You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 
“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 
“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 
“‘Precious babies?’” 
You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 
“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 
It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 
He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 
“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 
You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  
He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 
Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 
“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 
You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 
“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 
“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 
“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 
You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 
He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 
The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 
So, you do. 
The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 
From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 
So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 
“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 
You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 
The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 
Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 
You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 
“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 
He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 
“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 
It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 
The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 
“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 
You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 
He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 
That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 
His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 
Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 
He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 
You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 
“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 
But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 
“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 
You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 
He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 
In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 
“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 
You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 
You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 
But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 
“V-very.” 
That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 
He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 
You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 
His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  
You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 
“Fuck, Eddie.” 
Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 
He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 
He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 
“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 
You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 
He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 
“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 
You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 
The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 
“Oh god! Please.” 
“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 
And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 
Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 
You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.
“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 
“And now… we wait.”
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twobluejeans · 1 year ago
Text
HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!
charles leclerc x famous!reader
summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.
part 4: emo ponytail girl part 3: DUPEE, part 2: wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start
faceclaim: madison beer
ally’s radio 📻: PART 3! thank u guys so much for the love on part 1 & 2. IM SORRY FOR LEAVING YOU ALL IN SUSPENSE BUT IM BACK AND buckle up for some more drama (YASS) and a lot of tswift references 🫶
INSTAGRAM, (july 3)
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liked by honeybagerdr, karmaleclerc, and 244,523 others
c16daily Charles seen entering and leaving a restaurant with mysterious girl last night in monaco via @legrandprixclub
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gaslyleclerc WHO THE FUCK
judeslvr i’m so confused it hasn’t even been a full week??
sharlleclerc i can’t keep defending u man if you keep doing bs like this😭😭
ctrly/n oh wow
s1ut4formula1 copy of y/n
bejeweled.y/n @s1ut4formula1 don’t do y/n like that.
veerstappenmaxemilian someone give me her @ right NEOWW
bbynoriss @veerstappenmaxemilian ON IT
TWITTER,
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INSTAGRAM, (stories)
yourinstagram 37m
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viewed by chrisevans, sabrinacarpenter, and 567,431 others
yourinstagram (story) 25m
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INSTAGRAM,
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y/nflorals MORE OF Y/N AND FATHER NANDO EATING DINNER AT A RESTAURANT LAST NIGHT IN LONDON.
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444mercedes Y/N’S FERNANDO ALONSO’S DAUGHTER???? WHAT SINCE WHEN??
jpgmacvesstap @444mercedes babe ur so late 😭
lance.strollll no wonder why y/n is so pretty 💀
eversincey/n @444mercedes their relationship is v private. y/n took in her mothers maiden name so that the media wouldn’t connect the two. it’s rare when we see them together bc of their busy lives but yeah i was shocked when i found out too
voguey/n IN FATHER NANDO WE TRUST 🛐
alonsof1 judging by his face ik she dropped some really good tea
missamericanay/n id honestly be shitting my pants if i was charles knowing my ex’s father is essentially my coworker 😭
INSTAGRAM, (stories)
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f1paddlockupdates carlos, lando, and daniel have unfollowed charles on instagram.
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ferraribabe i just checked and lance stroll, george russell, and fernando unfollowed him as well 🧍🏽‍♀️
suffering_ferrarifan damn what did homeboy do 😭😭
y/nsredscarf @suffering_ferrarifan cheat obviously
suffering_ferrarifan @y/nsredscarf we literally don’t know that. not believing anything until it comes from y/n or charles themselves 🤷‍♀️
INSTAGRAM,
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ally’s radio 📻: SO YEAH. this was a little filler but might be dropping part 4 later on today to make up for the time i’ve been gone! thanks so much for the love! so fascinating n cool to hear ur ideas and feedback, v much appreciated. what r our thoughts??
taglist🦢🪩: @incoherenciass @dakotali @405rry @topaz125 @sassyheroneckgiant @hevburn @itsmytimetoodream @ivegotparticulartaste @crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010 @scenesofobx @christinabae @magical-spit @dessxoxsworld @myareadsbooks @honethatty12 @hopefulinlove @diasnohibng @gentlemonsterjennie1 @hummusxx @eugene-emt-roe @taestrwbrry @pejarma @cxcewg @chimchimjiminie16 @glow-ish
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