#like I have a scene that’s literally this

[dalishious]

Would you care to elaborate on how Taash's gender was handled? I don't have a way of playing the game myself, and also don't really understand your settler comment. (This is genuine, I want to understand it, but do not think I could if I just looked up the game content myself.)

I mean Weekes very clearly wrote Taash through their lens as a settler (a white person living on stolen land), and did so with ZERO consideration for the cultural aspects of Taash's story.

Like, Rook literally is forced to choose "Encourage Taash to pursue their Rivaini culture" or "Encourage Taash to pursue their Qunari heritage" in one scene for example. And the dialogue is this: "Did your mother want you to be a Qunari who happened to live in Rivain, or a Rivaini person who happened to be Qunari?" And that is such a western colonial mindset! Taash doesn't have to choose shit, Taash can have both!

But yay, Taash is non-binary, so we're supposed to pretend their gender means more than their culture, because of course the two are always separate, right? //sarcasm

[erinwantstowrite]

erin i need you to lock the fuck in with chapter 17 bc i am pretty sure i have read all 97 works in Dick Grayson is Peter Parker’s Biological Parent and i am going clinically insane. foaming at the mouth for content. with love pls lock in

or give a snippet i literally on my knees BEGGING.

i've been locked in since yesterday (wrote the 5000 yesterday), and now im hoping to get to at least 17000 today. much easier since i FINALLY figured out what i disliked about a scene that was making it hard to write + i'm writing the conversation with dick and peter about peter's life story and i know this kid's trauma like the back of my hand

[chrissv4mp]

Hiii so I thought of something that could maybe be good and thought I’d send a request for it. I was thinking something about what happens after the chicken shop date and how Amelia goes on her other date after and Billie is super jealous but the date sucks so she ends up texting Billie the whole time and Billie is still mad but Amelia begs her for another chance and talks her into meeting up after because she realizes she should have just stuck with Billie instead of going on another date and then they hook up. You could make it the reader instead of Amelia if you want I just love the storyline and how flirty and hot Billie was in that interview. For the sex I’d like dom Billie/strap/choking/orgasm denial/squirting if possible but just do your thing hahaha thank youuuh😘

𝜗𝜚 SHE CAN'T COMPARE

WARNINGS: SMUT, sorta angst(?), strap-on sex, choking, orgasm denial, degradation, squirting, dom/sub dynamics, meandom!billie, brattysub!reader.

NOTES: okay woah guys i actually finished this quite fast..

WORDS: 6.2k

SUMMARY: During your "date" with Billie, you accidently let it slip that you have another date after this. However, you can't get the argument out of your head, leading you right back to Billie.

TAGS: @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @cannibalsclass @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @meliciousmel13 @zayluvss @hrtsdollie

BILLIE EILISH × F!READER

"I'm actually going on a date after this." You blurt with a smile on your face as you take a sip of your drink. When you see Billie's face drop, you almost choke on the liquid, "Sorry."

Billie just crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair as she stares at you with those intimidating eyes of hers, "What the hell?" She chuckles, glancing at the camera. She didn't look irritated, but you knew damn well that she was.

With all the playful flirting behind the scenes and the soft, quick touches, it wasn't hard to miss that she had at least some interest in you. And it wasn't weird because you've been friends for quite some time before you finally had the courage to ask her to be on the show.

For a few moments, all that consumed the room was silence. Tense silence, to be exact. Billie's gaze spoke to you like nobody's ever did, and somehow, you knew exactly how she was feeling. You bite your lip nervously, eyes moving away from hers as it becomes too much.

"That—it—I didn't mean to say that." You stutter awkwardly, a coy smile on your face for the camera. The whole crew was still here, and you really hoped they didn't notice what was going on between the two of you, "Just a thought I didn't mean to blurt out."

Billie nods her head, "Well, you sure did." She scoffs, sounding more as a laugh to distract the camera crew and the people who would see this when it came out. She tilted her head as you took another sip of your drink to wash away the dryness of your throat.

"Right—shit—Sorry?" You mutter in an apologetic tone, leaning back in your chair to make a little more distance between your bodies. The table didn't even seem to create distance at this point. Her eyes were trained on yours, but yours were nervously tracing the pattern on the tablecloth.

Billie rolls her eyes playfully at your response, fixing her posture and sitting up straight, "So—You're goin' on an actual date after this?" She asks, both literally and just for the cameras. More literally, but nobody has to know.

"No—Billie, it's—This is a real date." You smile, trying to lighten the mood as you giggle softly at her jealousy. She was intimidating, but God, was she childish when she got like this, "I meant like a friend... date. With my girlfriends." You mutter, watching as an amused smile comes to Billie's face.

"Oh, so now you have girlfriends?" She scoffs, tone playful, shaking her head softly as she licks her lips. She adjusts her hat, muttering something too quiet for the microphone to pick up as she reaches for a fry.

You just stay silent, thinking of anything you could say that would change the topic. She was only teasing you now, clearly, "I'm actually just going home right after this. Maybe with you, even." You smile, watching as Billie raises an eyebrow at your harmless flirting.

"But you don't wanna stand up the lucky girl, do ya?" Billie questions, seemingly a joke to the camera, but hitting you very hard in reality. She shifts in her seat again, eyes dragging along your body and silently praying that it wouldn't be caught on camera.

You shake your head as you hopelessly stutter your reply, "I—no—there's no date after this. It was a joke." You play it off terribly, mentally cursing yourself for even blurting the stupid words in the first place, "Y'know, you're really hitting me hard and soft with these replies."

Billie's lips part at your word play on her new album, nodding her head as she chuckles, "Well, maybe next time, don't bring up your other date." She teases. When you glance into her eyes, you can tell exactly what she's thinking. And it's anything but sweet.

"Billie, there's no—I don't have a date, forget I even said that!" You shush, rolling your eyes at her as you take the last sip of your drink. Billie just shrugs nonchalantly, hiding her true emotions as she bites her lip, "Okay."

The camera equipment is slowly getting put away and hauled into the back of some moving van. But, you and Billie are still sitting at the same table you were in the interview. It was getting dark, and you did, in fact, have a real date that you had to be at soon.

Billie stays quiet, finishing up her food and stealing glances at you every now and then. Her thoughts are all over the place, jealousy pumping through her veins as the hand in her lap grips her jeans roughly. Her eyes snap up to yours right when you decide to finally look at her.

"What's her name?" Billie mutters, face even more stern than before when you were both being recorded. Now, she could finally express herself with words that didn't sound light-hearted, "Your date, I mean." She states, taking the last fry into her mouth and waiting for your reply.

You stay silent, almost dumbfounded, that she was still stuck on that topic. It'd been almost an hour and a half since you had that conversation, and yet it was still lingering in the air. A forced chuckle emits from your throat as you sit up straight, "Ms. None-of-your-concern."

Billie perks up at your response, cocking an eyebrow at your words. She'd never seen this side of you, and you really should've known that right now was not the time nor place for you to show her it, "Don't gimme that shit right now. You're acting like a child."

"Yeah, well, were you not acting the same while the cameras were rolling?" You retort, furrowing your eyebrows as the smile on your face slowly fades. She just scoffs in response, rolling her eyes she breathes out some stupid argument.

Your leg bounces beneath the table, mind racing as you check the time. You only had about an hour before your real date, and God, did you want to get away from Billie sooner. You can still feel her eyes burning holes through you, but you pay her no mind, huffing quietly in exasperation.

Billie notices the way you check your phone every few minutes, and it only annoys her further each time she catches you, "Better hurry up. Bet she wants to take you home later tonight, maybe even fuck—"

"Fuck you." You scoff, moving back in the chair as the screeching noise reverberates around the small, empty restaurant. You swiftly grab your jacket before storming out, leaving Billie alone in her seat, fuming.

"But your date's already gonna do that!" She calls angrily, hands clenched into fists as she watches the door slam behind you loudly. Her eyes stay on the glass for a moment longer, almost waiting for you to come back. But, you never do, so she just sits in silence.

Her head lolls back as she closes her eyes, sucking in a deep breath before she huffs out in frustration. Sure, maybe she was in the wrong, but who's to say you weren't as well? You knew how jealous she got. Each time she had a crush, she'd always run to you to complain about their ex's, never hiding her jealousy. And she was sure you didn't forget, you just knew how to push her buttons.

Quiet footsteps caught her attention, head turning in the direction of the kitchen, only to find the owner of the small restaurant approaching her, "We're closing soon, ma'am." He says, the tiredness clear in his tone and eyes. Billie just nods, humming quietly as she grabs her stuff and throws it away on her way out.

The lights hanging above you dimly lit the table and the girl across the table from you, highlighting her ocean blue eyes, quite like Billie's mesmerizing ones—No.

You shift in your seat as you listen to her, nodding at almost each word she says in an effort to seem like you were really listening. But, in reality, all you could hear was the chatter of other people seated around you. All you could even think about was what happened earlier that evening, at the restaurant with Billie.

Maybe that was the one thing that was distracting you, the one thing that made you think this date was going horribly. The girl wasn't even boring or an asshole. She was sweet and genuinely interesting. You just didn't know what was wrong with yourself.

You smile softly as you notice she's stopped talking, toying with the food on your plate, your fork twirling the pasta around it but not exactly bringing it to your lips to eat it. You'd lost your appetite, and you knew it wasn't from the food you ate a few hours prior to this.

"You okay?" She asks, and that's the one thing that pulls you out of your thoughts, eyes snapping to hers. They were swelling with concern, and so was her facial expression. God, you were really blowing it. Maybe you were the asshole.

The fork leaves your hand, clattering against the plate softly as you nod in response, "Yeah, I'm sorry. I just—Need to use the restroom real quick." You mutter, an apologetic look in your eyes as you stare into hers. You knew yourself that you wouldn't come back, so you didn't even bother promising it, instead just smiling at her before quickly rushing to the restrooms.

When you're out of her sight, you grab your phone from your bag, unlocking it as you open the door to the women's bathroom, making your way down to the furthest stall from the door and locking yourself in.

You click the first pinned contact, not even needing to look at who it is before you begin typing, leaning against the tiles of the bathroom wall.

y/n: hey

You bite your lip as you patiently wait for her response, muttering something along the lines of, "Please don't be mad at me, please don't be mad at me, please—."

When the three little dots show up, you let out a breath you hadn't even known you were holding, gripping your phone tighter as your eyes dart all around the screen.

billie: thought u were at ur date?

y/n: bored

y/n: cant stop thinking about our fight

y/n: you keep distracting me. idiot

You can almost feel her own emotions through the device. That sexy chuckle of hers imprinted in your mind. She gives your last text a thumbs down, and then the three little dots begin to bounce again.

billie: good to know im still on your mind tho

billie: also thats not even my fault??? js stop thinking of me then youll be okay 🤷‍♀️

y/n: kinda hard when you teased me the entire fucking interview

y/n: even off camera dude like wtf

Billie shifts on her couch, your words making her heart swell with pride. Even if you did piss her off, she was still happy she was on your mind. But, really, when wasn't she floating around somewhere in there?

billie: sorry for being me, damn

billie: also wtf why are you skipping over that shit that you did at the restaurant?

billie: like ok tell me you have another date after i was clearly flirting with you fr the entire interview

Her lip was tucked between her teeth harshly, biting down almost hard enough to draw blood as she watched the dots begin to bounce in the small grey bubble again.

When you finally sent the text, her facial expression softened.

y/n: im really sorry billie. i didnt know it would hurt you, it wasnt my intention

billie: huh

billie: well it sure as hell seemed like it was

You sigh quietly as your eyes scan over her texts over and over again. Fuck, why did she have to be stubborn?

Your thumbs quickly begin to work on the screen, typing out an almost pathetic apology. No—It wasn't even an apology—It was more of a stupid text begging her to forgive you.

y/n: im really sorry bills

y/n: i dont want us to fight. please

y/n: i didnt even want to come here after it

y/n: you know i hate when ur mad at me

y/n: ill apologize to u a million times more if thats what u want

Her heart beats faster, and she swears it might pop out of her chest any moment now. Her thumbs quickly type out a response, a stupid smile coming onto her face.

billie: dont

y/n: well can you at least pick me up cus u were being an asshole too

y/n: pls can you pick me up i really dont wanna see the look on the poor girls face when she finds me in this bathroom stall texting u

billie: idk i might js make you wait 30 mins so she can find u in there

Your eyes roll at her texts, scoffing at her responses. She was so difficult, and you hated her for it.

billie: hurry to the front im omw dummy

A smile quickly comes onto your face as you read the last text, almost squealing until you remember that she wouldn't be easy when you got in the car. Fuck, this was gonna be a long night.

The car pulls up slowly in the front of the restaurant, and you glance back one final time at the windows before scurrying off the sidewalk and jumping into the passenger seat of Billie's car.

She doesn't even wait for you to put your seatbelt on, quickly driving forward to exit the parking lot of the place. Her eyes trace your side profile as she waits for cars to pass, her gaze going unnoticed as you buckle your seatbelt.

"Have fun?" She mutters quietly, jealousy bubbling underneath her skin and seeping through in her tone as her eyes avert back to the road. You turn your head at her words, sighing in annoyance. She was still going on about it.

Your cross your arms over your chest as you look out of the windshield at the cars passing by, feeling her car jolt forward as she gets onto the main road, "If I did, I wouldn't have texted you, idiot."

Billie scoffs at your name-calling, rolling her eyes as she presses on the breaks at a red light. She takes the chance to look at you again, eyes traveling lower this time and catching onto your change of clothes.

You were wearing a short black dress, the neck cutting low and exposing some of your cleavage. She would've pounced on you right then and there if it wasn't for the traffic behind her. And also if she wasn't still so fucking furious at you.

Her own choice of clothing was the complete opposite of whatever slutty piece of cloth you were wearing, her sweatpants hanging low on her waist and exposing the waistband of her 'HIT ME HARD AND SOFT' boxers.

When the light turned green, it was your turn to admire stare. On her top half, she was wearing a little white tank, the straps thin and almost slipping off her shoulders each time she moved her arms to turn the wheel.

Her nipples were poking through the thin tank, and it felt almost impossible to look away. Until she spoke and you got too nervous to keep staring, "Well, I still wanna know how it went."

Liar. She was only talking about it so that you wouldn't forget the deep shit you were in when you got to your house. Or maybe her house? You didn't know, and you honestly didn't want to. You wouldn't bother asking, either, not wanting to hear the whole, 'why did you change the topic?' rant.

"It was good, actually." You murmur, an idea sparking in your head as you glance at her face again. You can practically see the way her eyes twitches in annoyance, and it only spurs you on to say your next words, "She was so sweet, and she cared a lot. I could tell just by her pretty eyes."

Billie has to stop herself from slamming on the breaks in the middle of the road, instead deciding to breathe in deeply and bite her lip. Her grip on the steering wheel increases in tightness, tilting her head to the side like she always did when she was infuriated.

"Yeah?" She seethes, cocking an eyebrow as she takes another quick glance at you. She catches a glimpse of that stupid smile on your face, and it only makes her angrier. You hum in response.

"Yeah." You reply, giggling quietly as you watch her knuckles turn white from the grip she has on the wheel. She presses down on the gas harder, and the car only accelerates faster down the route to her house, "Flirted with me the entire time, asked me if I needed anything. She even pulled out my chair for me."

Billie nods almost robotically, like she's being forced to listen to you brag about the girl. Because she is. She can't just jump out of the car into the road, even if she really did want to in that moment.

"That's—Yeah, that's nice." She mutters, jaw clenched. Even if you had only said a few sentences about no-name-girl, she was tired of it already. She only started the conversation to maybe undermine you? She didn't even know anymore, all she knew was that she was going to die if you kept talking about this girl.

"And—" Billie couldn't turn onto the street to her house fast enough, speeding down the road as she tried to drown you out. Her eyes burned holes through you, specifically your chest. She didn't understand why you chose to wear that revealing dress for that stupid girl and not for her.

She pulled into the driveway quickly, turning her key and pulling it out after putting the car in park. Her hands rested in her lap as she threw her head back against the headrest, eyes shutting softly as she breathed out.

"Stay there." She whispered, getting out of the car and slamming it with a loud thud. Your eyes followed her as she rounded the car, gaze coming down to see her sweatpants falling down only a little further.

She opened your own door before you could. It made her crazy when you even tried to open it by yourself, so even if she was pissed, she'd never forget to open it for you. When you exited her car, she slammed your door and locked the car, following behind you to the front door.

You type in her code proudly, reaching for the door handle but quickly being swatted away by her own ring-clad hand. You laugh at her gestures, watching as she opens the door for you and lets you go in first.

She's silent the whole time. Even as she closes and locks the door behind her, no words slip from between her lips, only gentle breaths as she rubs her temples. Her eyes basically undress you as you walk down the hall and throw your bag onto her couch, heart beating faster and faster as the seconds pass by.

Her vision is blurred as she follows after your footsteps, time seeming to slow as she looks around at the pictures hanging on the walls. When she finally makes it into the living room, you're sitting down on the couch, legs spread like you owned the place.

And, honestly, it seemed like it after being here 24/7. You even convinced Billie into giving you a key with no hesitation on her part. She grips onto the wall harshly, holding herself up as her eyes take in all that was you. Your scent already fills the room, making her head spin and blurring her vision further.

Her other hand rests inside of her pants, the action normal because of how abnormally cold she always was. But, this time, you see her hand moving beneath the fabric in a repeated motion. Like she's stroking something.

Your lips curve into a smirk at the sides, sitting up taller as you realize. She only comes closer, now leaning against the far end of the couch across from you.

"Thought you were mad." You hum, tilting your head in imitation. You cross your legs, hands running along your thighs through the fabric and making your dress ride up. Billie groans quietly, gaze fixed sternly on you.

A few more steps, and now her hand is holding herself up on the couch cushion you were sitting on. Her lips almost touch your earlobe, breathing on your neck as her small smirk fades. She scoffs, her other hand slowly creeping onto your thigh and squeezing, "I'm fucking furious."

You smile at her words, gasping softly as she squeezes your thigh tighter. She leans back, lips level to yours as her eyes flit down to them, then back up to your beautiful eyes. You're the first one to close the gap, grabbing her face and practically pulling her onto your lap, your lips fitting onto hers so perfectly.

Her hands moved to your hips, quickly flipping your positions so that you were on top of her. As you sat on her lap, you could feel the bulge beneath her sweatpants poking at your thigh, causing an amused smile to creep onto your face, "Predicted this, huh?"

"Shut up." She grumbles, ring-clad fingers wrapping around your neck and smashing your lips onto hers. Your hips slowly grind on her sweatpants, moaning quietly against her mouth as your hands grip at her shoulders, nails digging into her skin.

Billie groans at the subtle pain, pushing her hips up when she feels you begin to rock back and forth on her lap. Her free hand moves down to undo the tie of her sweatpants, finding it difficult with only one hand and her eyes closed, "Ma, take 'em off f'me, would you?"

You don't hesitate, the need to tease her thrown out of the window. For now, at least. Your hands leave her shoulders quickly, pulling away from her lips with hesitancy as you look down to see what you're doing. Billie's eyes are on you the whole time, biting her lip as she feels you tug down her sweatpants and let them pool at her ankles.

Billie bucks her hips against you, and this time, it's like you can feel everything. Your lips part in surprise at her sudden movement, a quiet squeak emitting from your throat at how big her dick feels.

"Gonna sit and stare, or are you gonna take it off?" Billie sighs, her patience wearing thinner than before. It didn't help that you were still fully clothed, either. Her hands leave your neck and hip, moving behind and messing with the zipper of the skimpy black dress that adorns your beautiful body, pulling it down until you could easily slip out of it.

You crawl off her lap, eyes hooded and full of desire as you slowly strip for her. Her hands grip the couch cushions tightly, holding herself back from even saying anything that would elicit a snarky response from your part.

The dress falls to the floor, revealing your naked figure to her. She wanted so bad to call you a slut for not wearing any undergarments, to degrade you until you broke beneath her and finally gave in. But she stayed silent, instead taking in your mind-consuming presence.

When you came closer and dropped to your knees in front of her, she bit her lip. Her hands and thighs trembled as you rested your cheek on the inner part of her thigh, leaving a wet kiss on the bulge in her boxers before you grabbed the waistband of the constricting fabric with your teeth. Her breaths were short and ragged, eyes wide as she watched the silicone cock spring free.

Once her boxers were at her ankles, your eyes found hers again, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you came closer. Your lips hovered over the tip of her dick, spitting on it before your hand came up to stroke it softly, thumb rubbing at the tip as if she could actually feel it.

"Get up." She breathed, eyes locked on yours as you continued to stroke your hand up and down her dick, listening carefully to each quiet sound that she made, whether it be a whimper or a real moan, "Y/N, fuckin' listen." It was a clear warning, the way her tone changed just an octave lower, a very prominent warning that she wasn't gonna be easy if you disobeyed her again.

But, still, you stayed on your knees in front of her, your hand rubbing the silicone quicker. And, as much as she liked the way you looked on your knees, her hand quickly came down to grab a handful of your hair, tugging at it harshly in yet another warning.

This time, you listened, nodding softly as your hand left her cock, rising to your feet in front of her. Her hand left your hair as you moved up, standing up and stepping out of her sweatpants and boxers, kicking off her shoes and leaving her in only socks and that thin tank top barely covering anything.

"Want you on the bed, Y/N." She demands softly, eyes hooded and irises swirling with lust and anger. You nod, biting your lip as your eyes fall lower on her body, chuckling quietly as you see the fake dick standing tall between her thighs, "And don't make me fucking tell you again." She snarls.

You nod again once her words register in your head, your feet taking you down the hallway and into her room at the end of it. You shut the door behind you softly, scurrying onto the bed and seating yourself in the middle of it, back against the headboard and legs spread just for when she came back.

The time seems to pass way slower as you shift on her dark sheets, your lower back leaning against the pillows that she slept on each night. The room smelled heavily of Billie, her perfume filling all your senses and going straight to your core. This wasn't where you expected to end up tonight at all, but you weren't against it.

The creaking sound of the door is what catches your attention, finding yourself sitting up taller and gripping at the sheets. Billie pushes the door open slowly, hair up in a low ponytail, her tank top gone and revealing her tits.

You're unable to suppress a whine as she comes closer, locking the door behind her and only making you squeeze your thighs together, bucking your hips against nothing but the cool air in the room.

She moves so quickly that it should've been considered inhumane, her hands touching you everywhere all at once. Her hair tickles your shoulder as she tilts her head, lips pressing against your neck so softly as her hands grip at your tits so roughly. Her knee is slotted between your thighs, pressed harshly against your wet pussy and feeling every movement you make.

"She wouldn't kiss you like this," Billie whispers, biting at the sensitive spot just behind your ear, feeling as your body tenses beneath her, throat dry, and lips agape to let out all the pretty noises she was the cause of, "Only me." She finishes her sentence, moving to another part of your neck to scatter kisses and marks anywhere she possibly could.

Her thumbs circle your nipples, nails leaving soft indentations as she tries her hardest not to go absolutely insane on you. Just the thought of that girl fired her up, urging her to just ruin you first and then take it slow. But the bratty attitude you had all day only encouraged her to tease you, break you slowly, and then fuck you hard and rough until you were unable to say anything but her name, "I'm right?" She breathes, kissing your collarbone as she descends your body.

Her teeth nibble at the skin just above your tits, leaving hickeys in the shape of a heart slowly but surely. All you can do is nod in response, body reacting so eagerly to her teasing touches and kisses. She was driving you insane, but if you said anything, she'd only take it slower. It was torture.

"Answer me." Billie demands, biting down particularly hard just above your nipple, smirking against your skin as she hears you yelp softly. It's almost like she can feel your heartbeat on her lips, her head spinning with every idea of what she wanted to do with you tonight, "You were very keen to the idea of fuckin' smart-mouthing me during that interview. In front of people, too?"

"God, you just can't stand being good for more than 5 minutes, can you?" She scoffs softly, voice teasing and playful, but her words were real. She meant everything, and you knew that very well. Her lips wrapped around your nipple when she felt your fingers in her hair, tangling in the dark strands and pulling weakly. You whined at her degrading words, her knee hitting your clit perfectly as you rocked your hips sloppily.

"Bills—Only you, j-jus' you," you confirm, your voice merely a mewl in her ears, but to you, it was using all of the strength you currently had, trembling beneath Billie even though she's barely even touched you yet, "Please..." You beg, eyes fluttering shut as you find the perfect spot on her knee to grind on, hips moving faster.

Billie moves to your other nipple, sucking harshly and nibbling at the erect bud as her hands caress your thighs, nails scratching up and down your skin and making your thighs tremble just that little bit more. She releases your nipple from between her lips with a pop, now hovering over your face, removing her knee from between your legs, guessing knowing that you were close, "Please, what?"

"F-fuck me, Billie—Please—Jus'.. mm." You stumble over your words, mind scattered and unable to say anything to form a real sentence. Billie understands, though, a cocky smirk on her face as she moves her hand to one side of your body, holding herself up as her other hand pulls your thighs apart, lining her cock up with your entrance before she pushes it all in at once.

Your quiet cries are music to her ears, your trembling body cute and meek. Her hand leaves the silicone dick, traveling up your body and leaving a trail of fire up to your neck where she wraps her fingers around your throat, applying more pressure than you thought she would. You gasp quietly, the action only making the whole situation hotter and more intimate. She tilts her head, "You like that, don't you?"

You nod the best you can, whimpering softly as she slowly thrusts her hips, eyes examining your every movement from the way your chest rose and fell with the ragged breaths you took to the way your eyes fluttered each time her dick rubbed you in just the right way. Pathetic pleas for her to go faster slip from your lips, toes curling at her torturously slow pace, hands fisting at the sheets messily.

"Pleasepleaseplease—faster.." Billie's grip on your throat tightens at your words, eyebrows furrowing as she watches your eyes roll back, "Want me deeper, yeah?" She mocks, the fire in her lower abdomen growing as she sees you nod frantically, her hips already slamming into you almost twice as fast than she was fucking you before.

She leans closer to your neck, inhaling your scent and smelling her own perfume on your skin. A chuckle fills your ear, only making you moan louder, the whiny sound reverberating off the walls. Your back arches, chest coming up to brush against hers as you writhe beneath her relentless pace. Grunts fill your ears as she finds the perfect rhythm, muttering the dirtiest things in your ear imaginable. The words she was spitting should've cut deep, but they didn't, only adding to your pleasure and making you physically react.

As you squeeze your eyes shut, you see stars flash behind your eyelids, her strap hitting that sweet spot each time she thrusts into you. Your knuckles are white from the animalistic grip you have on her sheets, your orgasm approaching quicker than you could've imagined. Billie doesn't miss the way your breathing pattern changes, feeling it on her chest and hearing it 10x louder now that your head was turned slightly to the side, "Bill—Baby, fuuckk... plea—!"

"Hm?—Tell me, Mama, tell me." She mutters, almost begging you as her hips slap against yours each time she fully bottoms out. An evil smile is plastered on her face, but you don't know that. You don't even know what she'll say in response to your pleas to cum. But, you honestly don't think you'd be able to hold it either way, "Too fucked out to speak, s'that it? Can't even think, can ya? My dumb girl."

"Cum—Wanna cum, please, need t'cum!" You warn, your voice a mere squeak as you pull at the sheets. Tears streak down your face now, her silence making it impossible for you to keep whatever composure you had left. Billie breathes softly into your neck, kissing your shoulder before coming up to press a sweet kiss to your neck. Much sweeter than the words that fall from between her lips, "I think you can wait, hm? Since you made me wait so fuckin' long for this." She shakes her head in faux disappoint, scoffing.

"Hold it." She snarls, eyes narrow, lips parted and swollen, hips relentless. The headboard hit the wall in time with her hips, bedframe creaking beneath your bodies as she fucks you wildly, making it impossible to obey her commands. You try to squeeze your thighs together, but she doesn't let them close, sighing in annoyance as she gives your throat a warning squeeze, having you gasp for air, "Just a little longer." She groans, almost like she can feel the way your pussy clenches around her dick, walls fluttering from the immense pleasure.

Cries and whines are the only things that can leave your throat, dry from the screaming and moaning you've been doing for almost—Fuck, you didn't even know at this point. All you did know was the size of her dick, the sounds of her groans, and the look on her face as she fucked you recklessly. The bed shook, and you were sure her neighbors would be here in the morning to complain about the noises, but neither of you cared. The only thing either of you cared about was that you finally had each other.

Your vision blurs from the tears in your eyes, trying your best to keep them open but failing in the end as she pushes her body closer to yours—if that was even possible—and hits you at a different angle, the silicone cock sliding deeper between your walls. She's almost surprised at how well you're holding up, a smirk on her face as she tries her hardest to break you, free hand pulling and twisting at your nipple as her other squeezes your throat from time to time.

"Cum." She finally allows. It takes you a moment to register, but once you see her head nod in your blurred vision, you let go. The light, wet ring around the base of the dick only gets whiter as your juices flow onto her, squirting onto your thighs and parts of hers as your body shakes uncontrollably beneath hers. Your back arches further, chest pressing harsher against hers as you cry out her name, lower lip trembling, "Thankyouthankyouthankyou—Mm.." Your words come out in a hurry, thoughts messy and incapable of forming any other words.

Her hips slow, helping you ride out your high before she stops completely. She leans over you, fingers unraveling around your neck and coming up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your tear-stained cheek with a look of adoration in her ocean blue irises, "Y'think she'd be able to do that?" She teases, giggling softly at your mumbled words, your eyelids fluttering open and closed, clearly sleepy.

"Shh.." You giggle stupidly, pushing her face away weakly. You gasp quietly when you feel her pull out slowly, wincing at the slightly overstimulating feeling. The emptiness makes you frown, whining like a baby as she pulls away from your body completely, "No, no, Ma, m'right here." She coos as she comes back into your blurry vision, strap discarded somewhere on the floor. Her hands wrap around your body, enveloping you in warmth as she cuddles close to you, "She can't compare." Billie whispers, knowing damn well she won the stupid challenge that she made up.

[mythalism]

wow they sure gave us one hell of a reversal to this huh

i saw ppl saying they don't like how she gets on her knees for him but honestly that is just such a misread of this moment to me and i am actually so obsessed with it. i get why upon first glance it could seem submissive and weird because of the power dynamic that existed between them in inquisition and the fact that he is a god, and i agree that it would have been weird any other time, but the context in general and the nature of their relationship in this moment is so different from the one they shared 8 years ago, it has been flipped completely on his head.

he had to kneel down to her level in trespasser to bring balance to their dynamic as he revealed the extent of the power differential and the guilt he carried for enabling it. he had complete power over her in that moment, he had lured her there in the first place, he had just turned someone to stone in front of her eyes, he outmatched her in terms of knowledge, power, age, understanding, magic ability. he was the reason for the anchor that was debilitating her and he was the only one who could stop it from killing her. kneeling to meet her on the ground where she writhed in the pain that he caused her brought them as back into balance as possible for just a moment. he had to get down on his knees to kiss her one last time as solas, before standing up and walking away to be fen'harel.

this is truly the inverse of that. we have never seen him like this. we have never seen him bent over like this when his name literally means to "stand tall". and it is not lavellan who gets him to this state in the first place, but mythal as she releases him from a burden he has carried for thousands of years.

he is absolutely powerless in this moment. he is not fen'harel or a god. he did not lure these people here to set a trap for them. he is not at all in control of this situation. if anything, he is the one trapped and being forced to face something he could not bring himself to face for thousands and thousands of years; mythal. she is the one in power here, and though her words are kind and her intention to free him is noble, notice that she does not make any sort of attempt to get onto his level, to look him in the eye. she looks down upon him as she releases him, and then she disappears.

i know a lot of people are also upset at some of the parallels drawn between lavellan and mythal, but honestly i think this moment puts all of them to rest. they are not parallel but opposite, and their dynamic with solas is completely different. while mythal puts him in this almost disturbingly submissive state that is so at odds with what we have seen of him ever, she is the god here, unapologetically, and him the man at her mercy. by contrast, lavellan sees his agony and does not hesitate to get on her knees before him. not in any act that implies any sort of submission or supplication, or to encourage any sort of mortal x god power dynamic, but so that she can see his face and look him in the eye as she reminds him of her love for him. she equalizes herself before him in his moment of powerlessness and vulnerability the same way he did when he knelt to kiss her goodbye as he took the anchor in trespasser.

and it is lavellan addressing him this way and her words that give him the strength to stand up tall again. it is also the final push to abandon his goal, as she tells him the only thing that is inevitable is their love.

he tells her in the unsent love letter we get in the codex how badly he wanted to be with her as just solas. we learn from his memories and their conversation earlier in this scene that mythal made him into fen'harel. the body language in this scene is the perfect visual representation of that dynamic. her kneeling to look at him is such a powerful act of love and support in a moment where he was so painfully vulnerable, and it reflects his own willingness to kneel for her eight years earlier as she found herself in a similar state. he is at her mercy, with his fate lying in her hands. kneeling before him and looking into his eyes rights the balance between them that was just so disturbingly thrown off by mythal. it is reciprocal rather than submissive. it says, "you are hurting, but i am with you". it reminds him of who he is, allows him to stand tall.

genuinely 10/10 i will never be over this

no because actually i don’t think we talk enough about how solas gets on his knees in the trespasser finale with a romanced lavellan. his name literally means pride. he EMBODIES pride. but his name also literally means “to stand tall”. HIS NAME MEANS TO STAND TALL. god of rebellion. and he is on his knees cradling her face and telling her he’s sorry. i have to go walk into traffic

[kaleidohscopic]

TRY AGAIN — JJH

PAIRING: jaehyun x female reader SUMMARY: if you could have it your way, you'd never have to see, hear, or even think about jeong jaehyun ever again. a fortuitous blind date, and that same dimpled smile after all those years, is somehow enough to make you reconsider. maybe he was always meant to be by your side. GENRE: exes to lovers! au, slight coworkers! au, romance, angst, slow burn, humour, some pining, a touch of smut WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, too many descriptions of coffee and wine, mentions of sex, general mature content and themes, reader is not good at talking about her feelings, joy x doyoung, i try to write about the complexity of relationships and personal growth (i fail miserably) WORD COUNT: 32.4k NOTE: oh. my god. it's finally here! there's certainly something different about writing for your ult. office scenes inspired by the internship i did at a big 4 firm that ended up rejecting everyone from my department (yes i'm still bitter). i actually wanted to get this out back in august to celebrate jolo but alas, Life. i guess this is a parting gift? (jaehyun i am nothing and nobody without you.) i poured a lot of heart into this fic and posting it feels like letting my child go out into the world alone... be safe my darling xx

You should’ve brought an umbrella. 

The early evening sky was darkening faster than usual, ominous grey clouds hovering between the skyscrapers like an unspoken but imminent threat. Though the ground was still dry, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be for long. Your haste to leave your apartment this morning had robbed you of the good sense to check the weather forecast, mind too preoccupied with tonight’s agenda to spare a thought for the possible torrential downpour that summer seemed to be so fond of. 

A glance down at your feet sent a twinge of annoyance through you. Of course you picked the black pumps to wear today. They were pretty, which was why you had slipped them on in the first place, wanting to make a good impression even if you told yourself you didn’t really care that much, but they were also expensive, and you did not want to get them wet. You said a silent prayer. Hopefully the impending rain would be kind to the leather.

“You better not be flaking,” Joy warned, voice crackling through your phone speaker. “I don’t really care what he thinks of you for not showing up, but it’ll reflect badly on me, and I can’t have that.”

You suppressed a smile. Ever the drama queen.

“I am literally walking out of the station right now. The Italian place, right?” you asked, pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs to gather your surroundings. The restaurant she had picked out wasn’t exactly an unknown location to you, but it had been a while since you last visited, and the buildings seemed to look back at you with a dazed unfamiliarity.

She gave an affirmative hum. “Two streets down from the exit. The reservation is under my name, but I think he might be there already.”

“Yippee. How exciting.”

There was a loud sigh from the other end of the line, and you could almost hear her rolling her eyes at you. “You do know I set this up with your best interests at heart, right?”

“Are you sure it’s not because you were bored and needed to use some poor soul for your own entertainment?”

“Hey, I’m not the one who put three packets of salt in Jungwoo’s coffee,” she fired back. 

Okay, maybe that one was on you. But it had been pretty funny seeing him spit it out all over the office kitchen counter and then meticulously clean up the mess with paper towels, all the while eyeing everyone on your floor with suspicion.

“I’m just saying,” she continued, “give him a chance. I think you guys could really like each other.” There was a pause. “Plus, he’s super fucking hot. Like if I wasn’t happily taken I would be climbing him like a tree.”

“Gross. I’m filing a complaint with HR.”

“Reporting me to my own department? I’ll make sure that file never even makes it through the portal,” she cackled at your empty threat, and you joined in with her. “Seriously though, just give him a chance. At least stay until the mains come out.”

“Fine,” you acquiesced, though you made sure she heard the huff that accompanied it. “But if he starts talking about cryptocurrency I am leaving.” 

Joy only laughed, assuring you he probably wouldn’t, and bid you goodbye with a parting command for you to enjoy yourself. 

On days like these, you couldn’t decide whether you were grateful or unlucky to have been placed on a team with her for your first project at the company. Technically speaking, Joy was your senior by almost two years, but even at that first daily stand-up half a year ago, filled with nervous smiles and clumsy introductions, you had the feeling the two of you would gel. By the time that first project wrapped up, the two of you had long progressed past mere co-workers, having bonded over 8-hour days of Powerpoint formatting and your mutual dislike of olives. You had never been more thankful for someone so vivacious to show you the ropes, and help you settle into the new environment with such ease.

However, Joy was a meddler.

Her meddling was what had you currently navigating the crumbly asphalt in your nicest shoes to meet the apparent hunk she had set you up with. You didn’t know much about the guy since she refused to give you his name, afraid you’d search him up on social media and then make up some excuse to back out once you had seen his face — like you had done with the previous two that she’d picked out for you.

Apparently, this one was from the Digital department, and had been at the company for a little over a year. Those were two out of the three pieces of information that she had deigned to bestow upon you, the third being that he had dimples, which she thought you’d appreciate.

Oh, and now the fourth one being that he was ‘super fucking hot’.

Who knew? Maybe you would enjoy yourself. Getting back into the dating scene was pretty low on your priorities, with your career and trying to stick to a consistent gym routine taking up the majority of your time, but you were never opposed to a bit of fun. 

Maybe Mr Super-Fucking-Hot could be a bit of fun. 

Just take it easy, you thought to yourself, spotting the glass windows of the restaurant as you rounded the corner. Il Giardino, read the sign that hung above the door. Cute.

Hastily, you shifted your bag and cardigan to the other arm and smoothed out the creases in your black trousers. You had tried for something a little dressy, but also office-appropriate since you were coming straight from work, and not like you had tried too hard and spent an unnecessary number of hours thinking about what to wear on this stupid blind date. Another quick glance at your reflection in the window, just to make sure there was no food or lipstick in your teeth, and you pushed past the door.

Soft jazz filtered through your ears as you stepped inside. The restaurant was nicely decorated, a few vintage Italian posters hanging on the exposed brick walls, and an overall rustic feel that paired well with the warm, earthy ambience. Judging by the patrons already seated, this place was a popular date night location, with all but one table occupied by couples sharing soft touches and flirty smiles over half-filled glasses of red wine.

Joy certainly knew how to pick a spot.

You gave the smiling hostess Joy’s name for the reservation, managing a weak smile of your own when she informed you that the other half of your party had already arrived, and followed her through the tables further into the restaurant. Outside, the first few raindrops had begun to splatter against the asphalt, slowly darkening the road with wet patches that were sure to grow into puddles. It seemed you had arrived just in time to escape the rain.

The hostess stopped at a more private table towards the back, and gestured towards the empty seat with that same welcoming smile. Mystery man, aka Mr Super-Fucking-Hot, was sat with his back to you, leafing through what you assumed to be the drinks menu. His silhouette from behind was alright-looking, you supposed, if you really had to put a label to it, but there was something vaguely familiar about the shape of his head. Perhaps you had crossed paths in the office lobby before?

You approached the table, trying to sneak a peek of him out of the corner of your eye, just to see if he lived up to Joy’s oh-so-generous description, without being so painfully obvious—

And froze.

“Is everything alright?” the hostess asked, still beaming at you. 

You barely heard her through the cotton wool that seemed to suddenly fill your ears, hands instantly clamming up as you took in the man in front of you. His warm eyes widened a fraction of a millimetre with recognition, quickly followed by something else you couldn’t place.

This was not happening.

“Is everything okay?” the hostess tried again. The corners of her mouth were beginning to slip, and she cast you a mildly concerned glance.

How strange you must have looked, standing stock-still beside your reserved table like a statue. The only things that could dispel the notion you had suddenly turned into stone were the light flush to your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your own heart that you were sure the whole restaurant could hear.

“Everything’s fine, just give us a minute please,” Jaehyun finally said, flashing the hostess a kind smile. She took her cue to leave, but not without another curious look between the two of you, hurriedly brushing away the waiter who was approaching the table and preparing to rattle off the specials. 

Hearing his voice seemed to break the spell that had rendered you so immobile. You straightened, shifting your bag higher up your shoulder, and turned to leave. Whatever this was, you were not entertaining it.

Chair legs screeched abruptly against the floor. 

“Wait,” he pleaded. 

Your eyes landed on his hand latched around your wrist first, before they moved to his face again. Slowly, his fingers loosened, but he kept you in his hold. 

“Will you sit, please?” he asked softly. 

You looked at him. Really looked at him, taking in his full, straight brows, the slope of his nose, the pinkness of his lips. His cheeks had slimmed since you had last seen him, allowing the sharpness of his jaw to really come through. Breathtakingly handsome as he always had been. A little older, a little more masculine, and yet somehow still the same.

And maybe because you still saw him, the boy that you loved, the first and likely only boy you had ever truly loved, you did sit, sliding into your chair like it was made of ice.

“It’s been a while,” he began, lowering back into his seat. You gave no indication that you had heard him at all, eyes focused on the flickering tealight candle at the centre of the table. The wax was a pinkish red colour, and the light scent coming from it was sweet, with a touch of tartness. Pomegranate, maybe. At your silence, he cleared his throat and tried again. “How have you—”

“Did you plan this?”

He pulled back a bit, as if in genuine shock. “No, I swear, I had no idea it was you. Joy only told me it was someone from her department, and that you were pretty, and she thought you’d be my type.” A pause. “Did you?”

Your reply was icy. “Why would I plan to see you?”

He looked away at that, sucking in a breath through his teeth. You were probably mistaken, but something akin to hurt flashed in those eyes as he gave a short nod at your words. Likely a trick of the light. It was a little too dim in here. What reason would he have to be hurt? Why would he be bleeding when you were the one with cuts all over your hands from picking up the glass shards of your own broken heart?

An uncomfortable beat passed. “Well, I’d say it was nice to see you, but you know I’m not good at lying,” you said. Shouldn’t have sat down in the first place.

Grabbing your bag and cardigan, you made to stand up again, regretting your decision to come here, regretting giving in to Joy so easily, regretting leaving the house this morning without a stupid fucking umbrella. The drizzle outside had turned into a downpour in no time, and the street drains were definitely going to clog up tonight. 

Seoul and its fucking summer monsoon season.

“Can we just—please, can you—fuck. Can we have dinner and just talk? As friends?” His hand shot out across the table, as if itching to grab yours again, but thought better of it, letting his fingertips rest against the edges of the linen napkin you hadn’t even bothered to unfold. 

A refraction of light from his sleeve caught your eye. His cufflinks. He was wearing the cufflinks you had gotten him for your high school graduation all those years ago. 

They had been expensive. Four months of pay from your part-time job at the ice-cream parlour was just enough for the pale pearls set in sterling silver. You supposed it would have been silly of him to throw them away when they were so valuable. It wasn’t like you had thrown away the gold pendant he had given you either. That necklace hadn’t hung around your neck for a long time, but it still sat somewhere in the depths of your jewellery box, underneath all the newer ones you had bought for yourself or received from friends over the years.

“Fine,” you found yourself saying. “Sure. As friends. Why not?” 

Sinking back into your seat, you reached for the wine menu immediately. Enduring the next hour in the company of your ex-boyfriend without a drink? Unbearable. As much as you liked to convince yourself you were over him, from your behaviour tonight it was clear you most certainly were not, and only alcohol could soothe that blow to your pride.

Your eyes flitted down the page of reds, then the whites, then the sparklings. Christ, the prices in this place were not pretty. Joy would have to be in a completely separate tax bracket from you if these were the kinds of establishments she frequented. 

For a brief moment, you thought about ordering the most expensive bottle on the list — a Penfold’s 2018 Shiraz — just to be spiteful, but decided against it. If you were really going to be sharing a meal ‘as friends’, he would not be footing the entire bill. You wouldn’t let him.

The waiter, under the impression that things had somewhat cooled down, finally approached your table, albeit a bit cautiously. Hearing but not really listening, you let him sing praises about the wild mushroom ravioli, ordering it just to save yourself the effort of reading through the rest of the menu. When he reached the beverages portion of his spiel, you settled for a more reasonable bottle, a 2021 merlot.

It was only once he had left to put your orders in that you realised that you had not even checked if Jaehyun was driving tonight.

“I’ll pay for the wine, if you’re not drinking,” you said, fiddling with your napkin. You could probably finish the whole bottle yourself anyway. Maybe that would make it easier to look him in the eye.

“You really don’t need to do that,” he replied, voice soft but firm. The weight of his eyes on you was almost a tangible thing. “I’ll have a glass.”

Your waiter returned, making a show of uncorking the bottle before pouring it out into both your glasses. You couldn’t down the first one fast enough, draining half the contents in one long mouthful like it was your first taste of water after finishing a marathon. Jaehyun was more deliberate with his glass, taking only a few small sips before he set it down on the table again. If he noticed the speed at which you emptied yours, which it was pretty hard not to with the way you were gulping the wine down, he said nothing.

God, this was fucking awkward.

“So,” he began, trying to mask the crack of his voice with a cough, “what made you agree to this thing?”

You reached for the bottle. “Felt like I owed it to Joy,” you said, pouring yourself another glass. “I flaked out of the last two she organised.” 

Maybe you should have just gone on that first one with Taehyung, or Taehyun, or whatever his name was. Then you could have avoided this situation altogether. 

“So you do this kind of thing a lot, then?” came his careful question.

You were curt. “No.” 

He blinked a few times, the movements slow with confusion at the abruptness of your answer. You knew you were being difficult. You wanted to be. Five years could heal most things, but unspoken words could linger like splinters under your fingernails, festering below the surface. Calluses had hardened over the splinters of your breakup, tough and protective, but now it was as if they were pushing through to the surface again, your fingers newly tender at the sight of him after all those years. 

A small part of you wanted to give him a taste of your hurt, wanted him to feel the prick of tiny wood chips in the flesh behind his nail beds. The larger part, however, knew malice would do no good for you. You had survived the pain. There was no reason to survive poison as well.

“No, I don’t,” you tried again, a little softer, a little less jagged around the edges. “I think she just likes to set them up for fun. This is my first time on one of these blind uh…” The word date sat heavy on the tip of your tongue but refused to budge. “One of these things.” Maybe another mouthful of wine would wash it down.

“Her definition of fun can be rather interesting,” he said, politely filling the silence.

You hummed in agreement, raising the freshly filled wine glass to your mouth again as you scrambled around in your head for something, anything to say. It had been a while since you had last been out on the dating scene, and you were well aware of it, but good grief, it was like your conversational skills had evaporated into thin air.

“How do you know Joy?” was what you decided on after a deliberately slow sip.

Thankfully, Jaehyun seemed to still know how to carry a conversation. “She’s one of the HR reps for Digital, so we’ve spoken a few times before. And her boyfriend is a friend from university.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “Have you met him?”

You shook your head lightly. “No, not yet. Hoping to, soon.” 

“You’ll like him. Doyoung’s a great guy. Patience of a saint.”

“He’d have to be to keep up with her,” you said, hints of a chuckle sprinkled in your voice. 

Something about the fact that he was already privy to more of Joy’s personal life than you were had a sliver of jealousy wriggling in your stomach. She was supposed to be your friend, and yet you knew very little about Doyoung besides his name, while your ex-boyfriend across from you had been buddy-buddy with him for probably years and years. Not that it was a competition to see who held more information about their coworker outside the office, but the feeling that you were somewhat losing didn’t sit well.

“It’s actually my first time on a blind date as well,” he said, allowing himself a tentative smile. “You know how convincing she can be. I mean, I don’t think I’d ever go on one if she hadn’t roped me in. It feels a bit silly meeting up with a complete stranger, you know?” He turned his smile to you, still tentative but coloured with a tinge of hopefulness, like he wanted you to understand, like he knew you would. 

How could you not? There had once been a time where you believed that you and Jaehyun had been two halves of the same soul, carved into existence from the same stone. There had once been a time where you knew him almost better than he knew himself. 

A time rather distant from now.

You kept your answer non-committal. “Sure,” you murmured, wishing his pretty face wouldn’t fall so quickly at your nonchalance, wishing you hadn’t caught the slightest droop to the curve of his mouth. Everything about him was still too familiar. “I’m just a bit surprised to hear that, I guess. You were so desperate to meet new people back then.”

Three seconds passed in silence. 

His eyes dropped to his lap, as did yours to your own. This previously reasonable bottle of merlot was loosening your lips rather unreasonably.

“Sorry, that was—” Unnecessary? Mean? 

True? 

“I didn’t mean to say that,” you finally managed, the words spilling out of your mouth in a tumbled rush. 

Or maybe you had. 

Jaehyun could only flash you a weak smile. “It’s fine,” he said, though you both knew it wasn’t really.

Frigidity returned to the air between you, stopped just short of freezing over by the reappearance of your waiter, along with a plate of goat’s cheese arancini. Jaehyun politely gestured for you to eat first, watching as you speared the crusty surface with your fork and moved it over to your own plate. For a few seconds, the only noises that could be heard from the table were the clinks and clanks of stainless steel utensils against ceramic plates. The arancini could not have come at a better time, affording both of you the opportunity to hide behind the guise of eating, and put off the need to make strained conversation, even if the time it bought you was fleeting.

Meet new people. Those were the exact words he had said to you all those years ago. Han River on a Tuesday night, cherry blossom petals fluttering through the balmy April air, the iciness of winter finally melting away into a distant memory to reveal fresh green carpets and vivid blooms — few things could have been more romantic. Spring is the season of love, they said. 

But for you, spring was the season of loss. It was the season when love ended, when love could be taken back and snatched away in the blink of an eye. On a Tuesday night in April, you learned that your love was not just not enough, but that it was a burden, an obstacle between Jaehyun and living his life to the fullest. That time spent with you was time squandered. That you were robbing him of the complete university experience, and to an extent, his youth.

Jaehyun had always been a wanter. He wanted boldly and he wanted freely, never dwelling too long on how his wanting could appear in the eyes of others, never shy about his desires. When he was ten years old, he wanted a dog, despite the reddening of his nose and the watering of his eyes whenever he’d get within arm’s distance of the bichon frisé. In tenth grade, he wanted you, with cans of peach soda and sweet little notes in your locker until you finally said yes to being his girlfriend after three days of public pursuit. 

(You had arguably wanted him more, and for longer, though nobody had been none the wiser — you were rather good at hiding your feelings.)

Two months into your first year at university, his wants changed. He wanted more space and more freedom to meet new people. He wanted to be able to attend club social outings, and get to know his seniors, and play drinking games with his new roommates, instead of trekking to the other side of Seoul every week to see you, his girlfriend, who had now become his obligation.

It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed a shift in his behaviour in the months leading up to that fateful night. Smiles had become a little wearier. Texts had become sparser. You had chalked it up to the challenges of settling into the new routine and rigorous coursework, and the distance between your schools that occupied opposite sides of the city. Sure, the hour-long subway ride from his campus to yours wasn’t the greatest asset to your relationship, but 18-year-old you had remained optimistic it would endure whatever curveballs your first year of university and the beginnings of real adulthood would throw at you. 

You had survived the CSAT together and emerged in one piece. What else could be harder than that?

“You’re right though,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on his own piece of fried goat’s cheese. “I guess I was.”

You let your fork drop with a soft clang. “Let’s not, uh—we don’t have to talk about that.” Pink petals were swimming at the edges of your vision. 

Please, let’s not talk about that.

A flicker of something behind his eyes could almost convince you he wanted exactly the opposite of your unspoken plea. Maybe this was a conversation he didn’t actually want to avoid the way you so desperately did. 

And maybe he would have said something too, if not for the waiter who returned at that precise moment. 

“The mushroom ravioli,” the waiter announced, setting the plate down in front of you, “and the amatriciana spaghetti. Enjoy.” 

Four pieces of pasta covered in sage butter looked back up at you. 

You made a mental note to never order ravioli at an Italian restaurant ever again. 

The sound of scraping utensils returned to your table, lightly blanketing the stilted pause in conversation with idle noise. Without much enthusiasm, you sliced at one of the four pieces of your ravioli, throwing what you hoped were sneaky glances at the full plate of spaghetti sitting in an appetising red sauce laid out before your ex-boyfriend. 

“Do you want to try mine?”

Sneakiness had never been your forte.

Your polite refusal came quickly, even if it was rather weak to your own ears, but Jaehyun was already twirling a portion out onto the share plate the waiter had kindly provided a few minutes earlier. He made sure to scoop some sauce and pancetta bits on top as well, before gently pushing the plate towards you. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, though you made no move to dig in.

Everything wasn’t supposed to feel this familiar. You weren’t supposed to soften so easily at the sight of his dimpled smile. You weren’t supposed to feel that strange tug in your chest at his thoughtfulness, at the way he could still pick up the slightest change in your expression. And maybe the bar was too low, and here you were fawning over nothing more than the bare minimum, because what guy would see his date enviously looking at his food instead of her own and blatantly ignore it?

But with Jaehyun, it was different. You knew it was. Within every action, there was familiarity and practice, there was thought and care, there were years of history that were unerasable, even with the passage of time. You weren’t the same wide-eyed teenagers now as you had been then, and yet scenes from the rest of that excruciating first semester flickered in your mind. 

A silent breakdown during a business administration lecture. Your roommate’s concerned expression when you decided to skip dinner again.

The tug in your chest was leading you back into dangerous territory. 

For the third time tonight, you debated grabbing your things and walking straight out. You had only promised Joy that you would stay until the mains came out. If you were going to leave now, technically, you would still have fulfilled your end of the promise. Arguably, this wasn’t the best time to make an exit — fifteen minutes earlier would have been much better so that the kitchen would have time to cancel your stupid ravioli before they started preparing it. Leaving now wouldn’t be the most optimal, but it was still an option. A tad heavy on the dramatics, but you could live with that. You’d just never be able to step foot in this establishment again.

A shame. The spaghetti looked good. You’d have to search up if this place did delivery.

“You can go if you really want to, I won’t hold it against you,” Jaehyun said quietly. His eyes were fixed on the fork he was twirling through his dish. You supposed you should’ve been surprised at the way he could read your mind without even looking at you, but you couldn’t find the energy in you to pretend.

“But,” he continued at your silence, “if you’re willing to stay, I’d really like it if we could just catch up?” At this, he finally met your eyes and offered a small smile. “It has been a while, after all.”

Maybe it was the sincerity contained in those soft brown eyes. Maybe it was because you really did want to try the amatriciana spaghetti while it was hot and fresh off the stove. Whatever it was, you found yourself resolving to stay, despite all the reasons not to, despite the sound of them loud and clear in your head, ready at your disposal. Allowing yourself to indulge in nostalgia once in a while couldn’t be that bad for you. Right? 

So you stayed. And you ate (his spicy amatriciana scored a landslide victory over your mushroom ravioli). And you talked. As two friends would do, catching each other up on the things that had shaped your lives since you had gone on your separate ways. 

Conversation was clunky at first, that was to be expected. Even the closest of friendships would encounter some choppy waters when reconnecting for the first time after five years. But conversation with Jaehyun gave way to smooth sailing much quicker than you would have expected. He still wore the face of the boy who would sneak an extra serving of fried sweet potato from the cafeteria because he knew you liked them, but he wasn’t quite the same. Older, certainly. Maturity wasn’t something that went hand-in-hand with age like you had thought when you were younger, but he was more mature too. Surer of himself, and his place in the world.

You heard of the summer he spent in the UK after graduation, visiting his uncle and their family, appreciating classical architecture and the leisure inherent to rolling green hills that he hadn’t been able to find in the metropolis he had grown up in. (The food, however, was an entirely different story. He had never been so overjoyed to see a bowl of rice that wasn’t covered in mushy peas or sitting in a puddle of questionable-looking curry.)

He learned of your semester exchange in Amsterdam, including the unfortunate incident involving you, a runaway bicycle, and the freezing water of the Dutch canals. Fortunately, a nasty cold and two weeks in bed over the Christmas break were the worst things that came of it. Those few months had been eye-opening, to say the least. Stepping outside of your own bubble had made you realise how much more there was to the world, and how little you knew of it.

Yes, Jaehyun had changed, but then again so had you. The realisation dawned halfway through dessert, slowly settling over you as you spooned at the tiramisu in the centre of the table. Perhaps it hadn’t been fair to him that you had been harbouring this seed of antagonism towards him for all these years. He, so afflicted by youth, as you both had been back then, was only doing what he thought was right and necessary. Could you really fault him for that? You had seen enough of life now to know that sometimes, nobody was to blame.

There was a comfortable lull in the conversation before he spoke again. The sound of his voice drew you away from the window, where you could see that the rain had slowed from the earlier dramatic downpour to a lighter shower. 

“I know I probably wasn’t who you were expecting today,” he said, a little hesitant and gauging your expression.

“You definitely were not.” You gave him an amused half-smile over the rim of your barely-filled glass, which he returned. The bottle of merlot sat tall and empty on the table.

“I just wanted to say,” he began, taking in a breath, “I’m glad it was you. It was really nice to see you again. And I’m sorry if you were disappointed that it was me.” 

There was something sad in the curve of his mouth, you thought. It tempered the warmth in his eyes.

“I’m not disappointed,” you heard yourself say. “Really.”

It was the truth. You knew he could see it written across your face. Dishonesty and insincere flattery were not familiar weapons you wielded. He knew that. He knew you.

Jaehyun sat back, bringing his own glass to his lips and draining the lingering contents. Perhaps to hide the private smile that broke out across his handsome face, which you pretended not to see, turning your attention back to the raindrops pattering against the window. 

The evening air was cool on your bare arms when you stepped out, taking shelter under the awning in front of the restaurant. You weren’t the only one who had forgone a weather app consultation today. Jaehyun stood beside you, hands tucked neatly in the pockets of his slacks, a not unwelcome companion while you waited for your taxi to arrive. He’d call one later, after he made sure you had gotten in the car and were on the way home.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” he asked, tone light. 

You cast a sidelong glance at him. His profile was backlit by the warm light emanating from inside the restaurant, carving out the straight bridge of his nose, a soft shadow cupping the fullness of his bottom lip. Would there ever be a time the sight of him wouldn’t take your breath away?

“Maybe,” you breathed. Letting him back into your life wasn’t a decision you felt ready to make yet, and you had no intention of promising him anything you couldn’t be sure you’d be able to deliver. Even if you would only be promising him friendship.

He didn’t push it further and hummed in understanding. Then your taxi was pulling up in front of the restaurant, the splash from the tyres just missing the hem of your trousers, and you were bidding him goodbye, staring a second too long at the dimples that appeared, and trying not to step in a pothole puddle as you clambered rather ungracefully into the car. 

But because realisation was never punctual, it was only when you arrived home, carefully kicking off the black pumps and patting them dry with a microfibre cloth, that you realised two things. 

First, you had left your cardigan at the Italian restaurant.

And second, Jaehyun had footed the whole bill.

There was a reason the seventh floor was your favourite floor in the building.

It wasn’t because of the little in-office cafe with the cute but ridiculously overpriced pastries that tasted even better than they looked, or the deceptively comfortable bean bag chairs by the far window that would always tempt you with a mid-afternoon nap every time you sank into one of them.

No. The seventh floor was your favourite because it had a Nespresso machine. Free use. Company-funded.

A seventh floor coffee was one of the only things that could get you to leave the comfort of your desk and willingly walk up two flights of stairs. (The elevators always took too long.) On Monday afternoons like these, after an entire morning swimming through attendance and sick leave reports from the last quarter, the promise of a smooth and velvety cappuccino felt like your only hope for humanity. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like everybody else had the same idea, if the line in front of the coffee machine was anything to judge by. 

“You should have told me!”

You gave Joy an incredulous look. “Right. Because I definitely knew exactly who he was.”

“Well, you could have worked it out. You’re a smart girl.”

“You said a total of three sentences about him.”

She paused, fixing you with a contemplative stare. Her eyebrows were doing that weird lifting thing when she was running something through her head. “Five sentences,” she finally managed, tapping around the rim of her empty mug. 

Why she came up with you at all when she wasn’t a coffee person, would probably take two sips of the espresso, and then complain it was too bitter, was beyond you. Sometimes you wondered if she was really that good at her job, or if her workload was just so non-existent that she could take five coffee breaks a day. It couldn’t be the latter, because you had seen that her calendar was full for the entire morning.

“Let’s not spend the next fifteen minutes talking about last Friday,” you sighed, already pushing thoughts of dimpled smiles and warm eyes to the far corner of your mind. Hopefully not to be revisited for a while. “I want my head outrageously blank while I enjoy this cappuccino. Swear to god Junmyeon is trying to drown me with those leave reports.”

“You know he only assigns them to you because you’ve never told him you hate doing it.”

“He assigns them to me because I’m the only one available who can get it done properly. You’re always blocked out, and Jungwoo has that weekly coaching session. Jisung tried to help me do it this morning, and he didn’t even separate paid from unpaid leave. The numbers looked like we were bleeding PTO.”

She gave you a sly smile. “You know you can block yourself out too,” she said off-handedly. 

“You can what?”

This was new information.

“You’re telling me someone else could be sifting through that 70-page file if I just schedule in a random meeting with myself?” you asked again, to which she nodded.

“Has yet to fail me. But make sure you name it something that makes sense, and don’t do it all the time, otherwise it’ll look suspicious.”

Corporate bullshitting was a fine art, and you were beginning to realise you were still but a novice at it. 

“And lay off the intern,” she added. “He’s just a child.” “He’s taller than Junmyeon.”

“A child in spirit, then. You know what I mean. He sort of reminds me of a cute little mouse,” she mused, trailing off. If her apartment complex didn’t have a pet ban, you had a feeling she would be taking in every stray animal off the street.

However, she was right. Jisung had been a bigger help than you had expected of a second-year commerce student. Even if it was just skimming through a finished presentation pack to fix up any typos and align text boxes, you couldn’t deny that having an extra pair of eyes and hands had made your life a little bit easier. Maybe you would even miss him once his summer placement came to an end and the semester rolled back around. As long as there weren’t too many more incidents like the one from this morning.

Speaking of this morning…

“Hey, does that mean you’ve been making yourself unavailable so you don’t have to read the—”

“Oh look! The line’s getting shorter. You should move up before someone cuts in.”

You shuffled forward, but not without throwing her a displeased look along with a grumble or two. Next time the quarterly attendance analysis rolled around, you were definitely making use of the trick she had just told you about. A quick glance up ahead. There were now three people in front of you in the line, but only one green capsule left on the rack. 

Please, caffeine gods be willing, let that last one be yours.  

“I can’t believe I told you that I thought your ex-boyfriend was super fucking hot. I feel so icky, like I’ve betrayed you somehow,” Joy said, making a face. The dimpled smile fought its way back into your consciousness, and you suppressed the twist in your stomach that seemed to accompany every recollection of it. 

“It’s honestly fine. There’s no way you could have known.” You shrugged, partly to reassure her it wasn’t a big deal, and partly to shake off that funny feeling in the pit of your stomach.

The better part of your weekend had been spent trying to make sense of the night, after battling a merlot-induced migraine for most of Saturday morning and early afternoon. Three glasses had been a necessity to get through dinner, but it was ultimately overkill. You were no longer the girl from two years ago who took advantage of her afternoon class the next day by destroying a few soju bottles with your roommates. On a weeknight, too.

Joy gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Still, I’m sorry I put you through that. Hopefully it wasn’t completely awful?”

Completely awful, it was not. Awful at some parts? Maybe. 

Truthfully, you hadn’t been prepared to see Jaehyun again. Not to say that you had never thought about it — you definitely had, running simulations through your head about how you would run into him on the street, ignore his greeting and walk past him like he didn’t even exist. But those were the musings of a heart-broken teenager, turning to spite and cheap endeavours at revenge to cope with the loss of her first love. Last Friday did have spite rearing its ugly head, but that spite was short-lived, and only one aspect that made up the whirlwind of emotions that came with seeing him again after all those years. 

“No, it wasn’t all bad,” you were about to say, when your eye was suddenly caught by a movement up ahead. 

A slender, veiny hand reached out to grab the last green pod from the coffee rack. You watched as the thief’s fingers closed around the capsule and slotted it into the machine. He pressed the lever down — because of course, it was a man. Not only was he on the better side of the gender wage gap, but he also had to be ahead of you in the caffeine race as well.

The sound of the capsule being punctured was the final blow. 

“My coffee,” you lamented under your breath.

“Have some patience,” Joy chided. “We’re nearly there. You’re like a zombie when you don’t have your little cup of bean juice.”

You shook your head glumly. “The last Peruvian. I waited for so long. It was supposed to be mine, and he took it.” 

“Who did?”

“The guy at the front.” 

Your eyes were still glued on the hand as it wrapped around the mug filled with your favourite blend, completely unaware that it had just robbed you of the only small pocket of joy you had been looking forward to all afternoon. Peering around the two people still ahead, your gaze travelled up his exposed forearm and the sleeve of the white dress shirt cuffed there. If only you could catch a glimpse of the face that had stomped all over your hopes and dreams… 

The lady in front of you shuffled closer to the coffee machine and finally cleared your line of sight. Coffee stealer’s ear came into view before his face did, and he was—

“Jaehyun?”

His name fell out of Joy’s mouth before you could even get your own to start working again and beg her not to call out to him. For a moment you were afraid you had conjured him out of thin air from the uninvited thoughts of him circling the outskirts of your mind. At least now you knew he wasn’t a hallucination.

Jaehyun’s eyebrows pinched in confusion first, then surprise, before finally smoothing over with recognition. He offered a small wave, eyes flitting from Joy over to you, and then he was walking over, and you were fighting for your life trying to mask the panic that was bubbling away inside your chest.

You shot Joy a frantic look. Why did you do that?

I don’t know! Sorry, said her returning one. The corners of her mouth were turned down in an apologetic frown, but she quickly schooled it into a smile at Jaehyun’s approach.

“I’ve never seen you on seven before,” Joy said, the spitting image of friendliness, nevermind that you were beside her and desperately looking for an exit out of the incoming conversation. “You’re always holed up somewhere on ten.”

You supposed you should have known this would happen sooner or later. Six months without running into each other when you worked at the same company, in the same building, was the exception, not the rule. You were just grateful Joy didn’t try to bring up her clever little dinner setup that had been plaguing you the entire weekend, or try and rope the two of you into awkward and unnecessary introductions.

“Someone told me I should come down and try the Nespresso machine. Apparently it’s really good,” he said, gesturing at the mug you had been staring at for the past three minutes.

“It is,” were the first two words you managed. Both pairs of eyes shifted towards you, waiting for the rest of your comment to come, but you could only disappoint, the syllables hanging thick and dumb in the air. 

There appeared to be some sort of blockage in your mouth-to-brain pipeline.

Joy cleared her throat lightly, throwing you a sideways glance. “Which one did you try? They all taste the same to me, but she only drinks the green ones,” she said, ignoring the panicked twitch of your mouth. She knew full well that he was the one you’d been staring daggers into ever since he grabbed that stupid capsule. Your stupid capsule.

Jaehyun’s eyes flicked between your face and the steaming drink in his hand a few times.

“Do you want mine? I think I might have taken the last green one.” He offered the mug to you. “I didn’t really know what to press, so it’s just a cappuccino. Regular milk. I haven’t had any yet.”

“It’s fine, you should have yours. I’ll get another one,” you politely declined. No matter how much you liked the Peruvian blend, it was not worth the charity from your ex-boyfriend. Even if it was the only thing that could get you through the rest of the afternoon. Even if he was holding the exact thing that you had been planning on getting. 

Hopefully the kitchen staff would restock those capsules by tomorrow.

The look he gave you was not a convinced one, but he didn’t push further. With your dismissal of his offer, the three of you lapsed into a sticky silence. Even Joy, who was so adept at making topics of conversation out of nothing, had little to add, passing up the challenge of pulling meaningful sentences out of your mouth. The stifling tension between you and Jaehyun must have been more powerful than you thought. 

“Shoot, I think I’m getting a Teams call,” Joy suddenly said, making a show of pulling her phone out and tapping the screen. 

Liar. She didn’t even have the app notifications turned on. 

“I should probably take this, but I’ll see the both of you later.” She flashed a contrite smile, and then she was off, almost speed-walking her way down the stairs you had come up together, all the while pressing her phone to her ear with a little too much urgency for a mid-afternoon cold call. By the look on Jaehyun’s face, he hadn’t been all that impressed by her impromptu theatrics either.

“Are you still in the line?”

“Sorry, yes,” you muttered at the woman behind you. Clearly, you were not the only one impatient for their caffeine fix. 

Finally, you were at the counter. You stared blankly at the rack of capsules. The empty space where the green ones were usually stored was glaringly obvious, jumping out at you while you skimmed through the other blends for a passable alternative. After many more seconds than would have been necessary to pick one flavour out of the remaining three, your fingers closed around a gold one. It would have to do for today. 

Jaehyun watched as you dropped the capsule into its slot and made your selections. Why he was still here with you was somewhat of a mystery. You would’ve thought that Joy’s hasty exit would have prompted him to do the same, saving the both of you from having to make bumbling small talk about the weather, or the weekend, or whatever else that two people working at the same company, with no other relational history, could talk about to fill in the silence.

Maybe he wanted to talk about the dinner bill. The fact that he had settled it, without you even noticing, had been weighing on your mind. It was less of a money thing — though you were pretty sure the total hadn’t been a modest number — than a pride thing. Being indebted to others always left a smear on your conscience. 

Being indebted to your ex-boyfriend was like someone had shit all over it.

Whatever. If he didn’t bring it up first, you would. This was the 21st century. You were both financially independent adults. Splitting the bill on a first date didn’t have to be such a contentious thing. 

Although technically, it was far from your first. And it wasn’t a date either, because you had refused to label it as such in your head.

The last few drops of milk and espresso trickled into the mug, before the machine stopped whirring altogether. You knew he was still there. You could feel his presence behind you. He had probably been waiting for the noise to stop so that you’d be able to hear him speak. Taking your mug off the stand, you turned to face him. 

“Your cardigan,” he said.

“Huh?”

Confusion splashed over you. You weren’t even wearing one today.

“I have your cardigan,” he amended. “From Friday. You left it inside the restaurant. One of the waiters brought it out, but you had left already, so I took it with me.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I have it now, if you want it back.”

“You do?” 

“I mean, it’s at my desk. I brought it in today,” he added quickly, seeing the way you were looking about his person like you were expecting it to materialise into his hands.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear the brain fog that had decided now was the perfect time to strike. “Yes, I—thank you, um, for that. I can take it off you…?” 

Had you meant to have it sound so much like a question? It seemed like your capacity for human speech was always afflicted by some sort of malfunction in his presence.

“Okay, uh, do you want to come up to my desk? I’ve got it there.”

The elevator ride up to the tenth floor was a short one. You could have taken the stairs just to get the extra steps in, but with both of you holding uncovered drinks, three flights of stairs combined with your clumsy fingers were a slip hazard just waiting to happen. Still, despite the short journey, the seconds inside the elevator seemed to drag on for much longer.

Before you could lose your nerve, you opened your mouth to crack the silence. 

“Let me pay you back for dinner.” 

Good. It sounded good. Firm, but not overbearing. Hell yeah, you were getting the hang of this conversation-with-your-ex-boyfriend thing. 

Jaehyun seemed a bit taken aback by that, turning to you slightly with surprise woven into the crease of his brow. “You really don’t need to do that,” he said after a beat.

The elevator dinged, and he stepped out through the sliding doors before you could form a coherent response. It took a second for you to follow, the coffee inside your mug almost making a dangerous appearance all over the elevator floor as you caught up with his strides. 

“Think of it as me taking care of a junior colleague. I am your senior, you know,” he said over his shoulder, a smile gracing his features at the latter part.

“Only by half a year,” you grumbled. “That doesn’t even count.” The light shake of his broad shoulders let you know he had heard your gripes over his attempts at enforcing seniority. His accompanying laugh was a soft one. You barely caught it above the noise of the tenth floor office.

The mellowed cosiness of the fifth floor HR department was hard to be found here. You were used to some chatter, with the occasional high-pitched laugh from Joy punctuating the air. On days he was feeling particularly jovial, Junmyeon could be heard humming from whichever desk he had decided to park at for the day (such was the beauty of hot-desking and hotelling). The few occasions you shared a table with him had allowed you to recognise the melody of The Beatles’ Strawberry Fields Forever — always the same song, and he hummed everything except for the words ‘strawberry fields’, which he insisted on singing, albeit softly.

Nothing about Digital was soft or cosy. Except maybe the sofa in one of the open creative spaces. The floor buzzed with activity, from the influx of incoming call ringtones to agenda-packed meetings in conference rooms. A group of people were clustered around a floor-to-ceiling whiteboard covered in diagrams that were undecipherable to you, engaged in animated conversation while pointing at various parts of the board. Some of them greeted Jaehyun as he walked past with you in tow.

“I had no idea Digital was this busy,” you mused out loud, following him as he weaved through the desks.

He chuckled lightly. “We like to talk a lot. And some of us can get a bit loud,” he said. The joking undercurrent to his voice had you thinking that the second part was said with someone in mind. “But it’s more hectic than usual. We’ve just won a really big bid and Johnny’s excited about his first time leading one of the streams.” He paused to wave and give a thumbs-up at the man standing at the very front of the whiteboard group (you assumed this was Johnny), who returned the greetings with just as much enthusiasm. 

Jaehyun had always been a people person. That was one thing that would likely never change.

The two of you arrived at his desk, a quieter one next to the windows offering an almost unobstructed view of the city. He dug around his workspace, pulling out a Jo Malone gift bag. 

“Ignore the bag,” he said, catching your wary expression. “I didn’t want to stuff it in my duffel with the rest of my gym stuff.” 

You took it from his outstretched hand, with a quick glance to check that it was in fact your cardigan. The ribbed black fabric sat inside, folded neatly over itself. 

“It got rained on quite a bit, so I washed it. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course, that’s kind of you, Jaehyun. You didn’t have to.” For a moment, you wondered if he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent. The smell of it used to cling to his school uniform, a burst of freshness you always sought during the muggy summer days.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a grateful smile. “I thought I lost it for good.” In your mind, you had already made peace with the fact that you would probably see the thing ever again. Yet all weekend, it had been taking up space in Jaehyun’s hamper, uncertain as to when it would finally be able to reunite with your closet.

You gave him a careful look. 

“Did you plan on seeing me today?” you asked. 

“No. Yes. I mean—” The tips of his ears took on the faintest hint of a pink flush. “I didn’t know if I would run into you, so I’m glad I did. But otherwise, I was just going to give it to Joy and get her to pass it along to you,” he trailed off, gaze shifting sideways to the cityscape posted on the other side of the glass windows. 

Neither of you had bothered with exchanging contact details after dinner, an oversight that was more deliberate than not on your part. His re-entry into your life was something you hadn’t felt quite ready for. And yet—

“Do you want my number?”

Stupid mouth. The words were out before you even registered that you had spoken. You prayed he wouldn’t pick up on the unintended suggestion of the question, though judging by the quick raise of his left eyebrow, you weren’t the only one who realised the other possible interpretations of your words. 

“I mean, just in case something like this happens again. So you can contact me directly,” you added quickly. Heat slowly crept its way up to your cheeks. You hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Sure,” he said, lips curling into a smile. “If that’s okay with you.” 

Considering you were the one who had said it out loud in the first place, it would have been strange if you suddenly decided it was not okay with you.

There was some fumbling with each other’s phones, before you were typing your number to add into his contacts, and he was doing the same to yours. Would he realise yours was still the same string of digits as it had been five years ago?

“Well, I’d better get going,” you said, handing back his phone. Now was as good a time to make an easy exit as any. You had planned on gossiping with Joy in the level seven kitchen for the rest of the hour, but back to your desk appeared to be the more likely destination this afternoon. 70-page files didn’t read themselves. “Thanks for the cardigan. I’ll see you later, then?”

Jaehyun looked like he had more to say, but you were already turning around, ready to leave the hubbub of the tenth floor. Ready to leave the presence of your ex-boyfriend-turned-friend? Acquaintance? You shook your head lightly. A drink was needed to unpack that box of worms.

A call of your name had you pausing mid-step.

“Your coffee,” Jaehyun said, tapping you on the shoulder to hand you your mug. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking it from his grasp. You hadn’t even bothered to take a sip of the non-Peruvian cappuccino, the surface still untouched. It was probably cold now. Maybe you’d pass it off to Jungwoo, this time sans the salt.

“You know, if the dinner bill thing bothers you that much, you can just make it up to me later.”

You blinked at him a few times. “Make it up to you how?”

“Ah, that’s for me to decide,” he replied, a boyish glint to his smiling eyes. Both his dimples popped out, and you found yourself unable to choose which one to focus on. 

Then he was moving, and you were left staring at the broad expanse of his back as he walked away. Head full of thoughts wondering what the hell kind of favour he would now hold over your head, you almost walked straight into Jungwoo as you came out of the elevator.

“Hey, I got a Nespresso from seven. You want it?” you asked, offering him the coffee you stopped yourself from spilling all over him. He eyed the mug apprehensively.

“You put salt in it again, didn’t you?”

“No? Where did you even get that from? Hang on, how do you know it was me?”

Jungwoo sucked in a breath through his teeth. “So it was you! I knew it! You know, you really are a scary woman,” he grumbled. “Who ever would have thought an evil spirit lurked behind such a kind face?”

“So that’s a no to the coffee?”

“I don’t trust you anymore, so no.”

“Suit yourself,” you shrugged, making your way back to your desk. The attendance reports stared back at you as you logged into the monitor, drawing a sigh out of you. You took a sip of the coffee.

And frowned.

You brought the mug to your mouth again. Like the first sip, the second was also lukewarm. But like the first sip, the second also tasted exactly the same as your usual Peruvian blend. Maybe there really was no difference between all the different coloured capsules, you thought, skimming through page 33 of the file.

That thing about realisation never being on time? Still true.

On the subway ride home, gripping the handle with all your might while sandwiched between two middle-aged men in stuffy suits, it dawned on you.

Jaehyun had given you his coffee instead.

“Thanks everyone for dialling in today. We’ll chat soon.”

The screen reverted back to its default background as the call ended, and you let out a sound somewhere in between a groan and a whimper. Junmyeon did not look to be faring any better, head in his hands while his elbows rested on the meeting room table.

“Can somebody please tell Jackson and the rest of the Marketing heads that Summer Fridays doesn’t mean they can just take Fridays completely off?” he groaned, the sounds escaping through the gaps in his fingers. “Our absenteeism looks like it’s at an all time high. Nayeon, you’re friendly with him, aren’t you?”

The girl pressed at her temples. “I mean, we were in the same advertising and PR club back in university, if that counts for anything. But yeah, I’ll schedule some time with him and go over it.”

“Great, thank you,” Junmyeon sighed, throwing his head back. “Alright, I’ll send around a debrief email later this afternoon. Thanks everyone for your time.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. A second later and you were out of the eighth floor Marketing meeting room, already on your way to the Nespresso machine downstairs. Another coffee at 4pm was slightly pushing it, but you needed a pick-me-up urgently to wash away the gruelling two hours spent going through company policy with Marketing.

The buzz of your phone was a momentary distraction from your mission. 

It was a message from Jaehyun. Something silly in response to a text you had sent earlier in the day. 

jaehyun [04:07 pm]: in dire need of a fake mango right now jaehyun [04:07 pm]: mmm fake mango milkshake

The smile that crept up onto your face was almost like a reflex in the way it couldn’t be helped.

Now that you were acquainted again, it was like you saw him everywhere. How you had managed to completely avoid each other for the last half a year or so was a fascinating mystery. Some mornings you’d run into him in the building lobby. He’d hold the elevator doors open for you, and you’d exchange pleasantries on the ride up to the fifth floor, where you’d get off and bid him goodbye, or see you later. And see him later you did. Whether it was at the seventh floor coffee machine, or in line at the cafeteria on twelve, the sight of his face had become a nice interruption to the hours spent at a monitor, or in a call like the one you had just escaped.

He would come down to the fifth floor sometimes, stopping by Joy’s desk or yours to say hello and have a chat if you weren’t busy. You found yourself wishing he would spend less time with Joy than he did with you — not because you wanted to see him more (because that was absolutely not the reason at all), but because he was steadily gaining a lead over you in the Joy friendship competition. The three of you had spent a few lunch breaks at the cafeteria together, granted that your schedules matched, with an odd appearance from Jungwoo every now and again.

You saw more of Johnny (loud) and Mark (louder), Jaehyun’s friends from Digital who you’d normally hear before you’d see them. Johnny was his “beloved coffee mate” (Jaehyun’s exact words) and possibly the only other person in the building who cared about the green Peruvian capsules as much as you did. Mark was… Mark, for lack of a better description. There was nobody the boy couldn’t strike a conversation with. If he really needed to, you suspected he could probably get along with a wet paper towel. 

You had been offered an invitation to join the three of them for one of their weekly lunches outside the company building. Johnny was more than happy to let you know he was somewhat of an expert at finding the hottest eats in the area, having put half his floor onto the cold noodle place he had sought out at the start of the month. And laugh as you had when he proudly told you about it, Johnny’s influence was no joke. News of the restaurant had somehow trickled its way down to HR, with Junmyeon just the other day asking around the team if anyone had tried the place before. 

Perhaps you’d join them next week. It was always nice to be ahead of the trend. 

You arrived at the seventh floor kitchen and sighed. The rack was out of green capsules again. Although, maybe that was to be expected. It was nearing the end of the day, and the gold capsules were finished too. So much for a 4pm pick-me-up, you thought, though it might have been for the better — too much caffeine in one day always made you a bit antsy and had your resting heart rate up in the high 80s. 

With empty hands and a pout on your lips, you made your way back to the fifth floor. 

Joy’s eyes were glued to her screen when you walked past her. “Jaehyun stopped by while you were in that Marketing call,” she said without looking at you, squinting at a spreadsheet. 

“Did he?” you replied, trying your best at nonchalance despite the little flip of your stomach. 

“Are you talking about her handsome friend from Digital?” Jungwoo peered around the table with a playful grin on his face. 

You were back on good terms now, thanks to your promise to pay for his lunch from the cafeteria for a whole week to make up for the coffee incident. The look in his eyes right now had you thinking life was better that week where he had been afraid of you.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Joy said distractedly in between clicks of her keyboard. “Jisung, can you just double check these numbers for me? I’m in the second tab of the Excel file.” 

The intern was quick to comply. You had a feeling she was his favourite senior. 

“Anyways, I think he left you something.”

You made your way over to your desk, ignoring Jungwoo’s oohs and ahs. Sure enough, there was something sitting next to your diary and the three empty glasses you hadn’t had the chance to rinse out yet.

It was a coffee capsule. Specifically, it was a green coffee capsule. 

There was a sticky note stuck to the back of it, which you turned around to read. His handwriting was still identical to that of the silly little notes he used to leave in the margins of your home economics workbook. 

saved this last one from johnny’s clutches. enjoy ^.^

Despite the jitters from the end-of-day caffeine fix, you smiled the whole way home.

“I’ve found a way you can make it up to me.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the screen. 9:34 am. The Saturday morning still had you in its clutches, and it took a few seconds to process the sounds you were hearing. 

“Who is this?” you croaked, sleep lacing your voice. 

“It’s Jaehyun.” 

You sat up a little straighter against the pillows. “Jaehyun?” you echoed. 

“Yes, it’s me. Do you not check the caller ID before you answer?”

You grumbled something about it being too early on the weekend to have your head screwed on properly, to which he laughed, a vivid sound even through the phone. 

“Do you have plans later today?”

You hesitated. Technically, no, unless a hot date with Netflix and whatever leftover snacks you could find in your pantry counted as plans. You were due for a grocery trip soon. The three eggs and single sprig of spring onion in your fridge would not last for long. Cooking had never been something you enjoyed, especially not after a full work day, and yet living alone required so much of it. You didn’t want to make up a non-existent dinner reservation, partly because you knew he’d be able to tell the untruth just by listening to your voice, and partly because something unpleasant niggled at your insides at the thought of lying just to avoid him.  

“Why, what’s up?” you asked instead.

“Well, you know that jazz festival?” You gave an affirmative hum. “I have tickets for today. Mark and I were supposed to go together, but he just called me saying he can’t make it. Something about a leak in his apartment from all the rain. So…”

You stifled a yawn. “So?” Your brain was still trying to catch up with the land of the awake and living. 

“Come with me?”

The words took a while and a few blinks to register. When they did, your first instinct was to say no. Jaehyun was fine in small doses. A quick chat over coffee, sporadic texts throughout the day, conversation within the safety of a group setting — these were all fine. Manageable. Nice, even. But Jaehyun in the flesh, outside of the office, with nobody else around to buffer the strange sort of tension that seemed to always thrum between the two of you — that was an entirely different ball game altogether. Sometimes, a mere run-in was enough to have your heart going a little faster than usual, nerves lighting up at the unexpected sight of his face. 

“I am not above begging. Please don’t make me go to this thing by myself.”

And yet, there was a flicker of something pleasant and sweet, something akin to excitement that curbed the nervous flutter in your gut. You were fifteen again, waiting outside the movie theatre, a little too giddy at the thought of spending time with the boy whose sweet smile had become the cause of your stomach somersaults. And that was before you had even admitted to yourself that you liked him, as more than a friend. 

“What time is it?” you found yourself asking.

So maybe you were seriously considering it. You had been meaning to put that new film camera to use. The thing had been collecting dust in one of your drawers ever since you bought it on a whim one night scrolling through Pinterest. Somehow, the rows of tables and monitors in the office didn’t seem like the most interesting camera subjects compared to the scenes of concerts and beach bonfires that had driven your impulsive purchase. 

“Well, the doors open at 11, but the first performer is at 12. And Lauv’s set isn’t until later in the evening.”

“Lauv is performing?” Your voice had gone up almost an octave, but you couldn’t care enough to be embarrassed. This was a crucial piece of information. Now you had to be there. 

He laughed. “So is that a yes?”

“Yes. Yes, it’s a yes.” The covers were flipped off your legs in an instant.

It wasn’t that Jaehyun looked bad in slacks and a dress shirt. That was not the case at all. But you had grown used to them on him over the last few weeks, and the sight of his long legs in a pair of well-fitting trousers no longer caused a spike in your heart rate. 

Jaehyun in casual clothes outside the office was uncharted territory. 

The midday sun was strong outside the subway station. Clad in a black graphic tee over a pair of baggy green cargos, Jaehyun stood idly at the entrance, face hidden by the brown baseball cap on his head and eyes trained on his phone. How someone could look so gorgeous in something so ordinary was a secret only he knew the truth of. He caught sight of you from across the road, waiting for the pedestrian light, and raised his hand in a wave. 

“It’s different seeing you out of your work clothes,” he said. 

“Different good or different bad?”

A soft smile grazed his lips. “Just different. You look younger.”

“So do you,” you replied. 

You look like the boy I was in love with all those years ago. 

“Did you taxi?”

“No, I took the bus. There’s one that goes straight from my building. I didn’t know you lived around here,” you mused to yourself.

“My place is really close.” He pointed somewhere behind him. “Five minutes that way, tops. You should come over sometime.”

A slight pause. Jaehyun’s eyes flitted down to the pavement. You weren’t sure if the heat in your cheeks was from the sun or something else entirely. 

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “we should probably go. It takes 40 minutes to get there, so if we leave now we should be able to catch the 1pm.”

The subway on the weekend was nowhere near as awful as it usually was during the weekday rush hours, but packed nonetheless. You definitely preferred being stuck in a carriage full of bright-eyed and chattering teenagers than the usual crowd of solemn-faced office workers. When a seat finally freed up, Jaehyun was quick to offer it to you, manoeuvring himself so that he could stand in front of you as you sat down. Toe to toe, the tips of his shoes grazed yours, and you were suddenly reminded of study periods at the library. The two of you could never agree on who first started the game of footsie under the desk.

“See those girls over there?” you asked quietly, nodding towards a group of likely high schoolers down the other end of the carriage. Jaehyun turned his head to follow your gaze, catching sight of the girls who immediately erupted in whispers and giggles upon making eye contact with him. “They’ve been staring at you for the last two stops.”

He was quick to turn back towards you, nose scrunching and slightly embarrassed. “Kids these days are so weird,” he said with a soft groan. “Why are they doing that?”

“You know they’re only staring because you’re handsome.” 

Despite the pinkness of his ears, he was smiling wide. “You think I’m handsome?”

You blinked up at him. “I didn’t say that.” Did I? “I meant they probably think you’re handsome. Which is why they’re staring. You know. It’s nice to look at good-looking people.” 

The rushed explanations did nothing to shake the feeling that you had slipped-up somehow, and he had caught it. Jaehyun’s dimples only deepened at your backtracking.

“You know what I mean,” you finally huffed, biting back a smile at the deep sound of his responding laugh. “Whatever. I think this is our stop.”

The festival couldn’t have picked a better day to be held. The skies were clear and blue, and the air carried a light breeze that provided a welcome relief from the heavy stickiness of midsummer. It was a nice change from the sporadic rainstorms that had plagued the city over the last two weeks or so. Mark’s leaking apartment was proof of the temperamental weather. If you had one bone to pick, the sun was a tad strong, but that was to be expected. You had come prepared, tugging the bucket hat down further to cover your face. 

Alaina Castillo’s set was well underway by the time you and Jaehyun made your way into the venue grounds. A decent amount of people had already arrived, trickling in to fill up the gated area in front of the main stage. The two of you filed in with the rest, finding a place towards the back of the growing crowd where there was ample room to breathe without inhaling someone else’s breath. 

You had never been one for being stuck in a swarm of people. A harsh reminder of why that was the case appeared when, out of nowhere, a stranger’s elbow dug into your arm, knocking you sideways in their determined path towards the barricade. 

The steadying hand around your shoulder was instantaneous. 

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked, and you mumbled something affirmative in reply, trying not to dwell too much on the warmth of his skin on your bare arm. His eyes followed the stranger who was still pushing on through the crowd in front. “People really need to watch where they’re going,” he muttered, brows drawn together in a frown.

The rest of the afternoon proceeded more smoothly. It was a little unsettling how normal and nice everything felt. Jaehyun kept close to you for the sets that followed, the distance between the two of you gradually shrinking as the crowd grew in size. The occasional brush of your forearms as you moved to the music was no longer something to jump at like you had the first time it had happened. You managed to snap a few pictures on your almost-new film camera, mostly of the artist performing, but there was one of you in there somewhere amidst the stage shots, taken by an insistent and smiley Jaehyun during one of the set breaks. 

“So this is why you wanted someone to come with you,” you said, sliding onto the bench and passing him one of the burgers from the food truck.

“It’s so much more efficient when you can line up for two things at once. If I was by myself, I’d either wait for the beer and let my burger get soggy, or wait for the burger and let my beer get warm and flat. This way the food is fresh, and our drinks are ice cold out of the fridge.”

You cracked a smile. “And here I thought you called me because you enjoyed my company.”

“I do enjoy your company,” he said without missing a beat. “The other stuff is just an added plus.”

You took a sip of the cold beer, hoping it would stave off the quick flush of your cheeks. Jaehyun said things so easily. Too easily. It was harder and harder to adhere to that invisible boundary you had been so adamant on protecting. 

Why were you so reluctant to let him back in? Why all the walls? He made it too easy for thoughts like that to creep in and loiter in the back of your mind. 

Evening had begun to settle, the brightness of the midday sky fading away to a twinkling twilight blue over your heads. The music was quieter at the picnic tables by the tents, where festival-goers sought respite from the main stage crowds with a cold beverage and something greasy. Between mouthfuls of an early makeshift dinner, you and Jaehyun sat in your own bubble, comfortably falling into conversation about the performances throughout the day, or whatever else happened to be on your minds.  

“Your mouth opens so wide,” you said, watching as he all but inhaled half the burger in one go. His nose scrunched up as he tried to take the massive bite, and the sight of it was such a far cry from his usual cool guy image that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to snap a picture of it. The click of the shutter had him looking up at you mid-chew with a dismayed expression.

“That’s not fair. You attacked when I wasn’t ready!”

“I’d hardly call that an attack,” you said, not without a smile. “I was just getting a candid.”

He wiped his fingers on the napkin. “Okay, my turn then,” he said, gesturing for you to hand the camera over. You obliged, letting him point the lens at you and fiddle with the knobs along the top. His slender fingers navigated the controls with a practised ease.

“Relax,” he added softly, noticing your fidgeting. Twenty-something years, and you had made little progress in mastering the art of posing for photos. “Pretend the camera’s not here, and it’s just you and me.”

Right. Like that was supposed to make you loosen up.

“I actually used to be really into photography. Got pretty good at it too,” he said.

“Really? I don’t remember that.”

“Picked it up in uni,” he explained. “Had all this free time on my hands and didn’t know what to do with it. Besides drinking.” A pause. “Honestly, first year second semester was pretty rough after… you know.”

The last part caught you somewhat off-guard. After that fateful April night, you had always assumed Jaehyun was off living his best life, blowing through society events with the new friends he had made, maybe even letting a few of them warm his bed now that you weren’t around. It wouldn’t have been the biggest surprise. Even at nineteen, Jaehyun’s good looks were uncontested. His sweet and attentive personality was the cherry on top of an already delectable cake. Whatever he got up to when the sun set, you were none the wiser, having completely wiped his existence from your phone by the time your first semester exam period rolled around. 

Though you didn’t go as far as to block his number, he never reached out, and so Jeong Jaehyun became a relic of the past, embracing his newfound freedom now that he had shed himself of you, his unwanted baggage.

Or so you thought.

“But yeah,” he continued, “I started getting into photography. Burnt a hole in my wallet trying out a bunch of different cameras,” he said with a chuckle. “I liked film the most though, I think. It’s the only one I still use now.” 

“What do you like about it?”

He took a moment, pausing in thought. “The colours, mostly. How it’s a bit muted, it has that vintage feeling.” You hummed in agreement. “Selfies on a film camera are fun as well.”

“You must really like looking at yourself,” you teased, enjoying the sight of his ears flushing with colour from where they poked out above the camera.

“Not like that,” he said in reply to the raise of your eyebrows. “It’s more like… when you take a selfie on film, you can’t see yourself, right? Whether the focus is focusing, or if the angle is right.

“Or if your whole face is actually in the shot, not just your right eye.”

“Exactly. But then taking the picture anyway. That’s what I like.” He pulled away from the camera to flash you a small smile. “Isn’t it funny, the way we try so hard to capture moments of time?”

Jaehyun’s attention returned to the viewfinder, leaving you to quietly dwell on his words. How else could one keep a piece of time stored away if not through photos? And yet, photography would never be able to capture the entirety of a moment the way a memory could. The sound of the band’s bass guitar from the side stage in the adjacent garden. The smell of summer carried by the evening breeze as it ruffled through his hair.

The warm feeling in your chest as you sat across from him at this wooden picnic bench, surrounded by people, sharing wistful conversation and a basket of fries. 

The feeling of coming home.

The shutter clicked.

“Got it. That last one is going to turn out so nice.” Jaehyun smiled triumphantly, cheeks dimpling. “If you make this your profile picture you have to add the ‘photo by’. I need my credits.”

You blinked away the precarious thoughts. “Alright, mister photographer man, give it back now. Don’t use up all my film before Lauv.”

He handed the camera back to you, looking very pleased with himself. The light from the nearby tents cast a dusky glow over his face. Jaehyun from Digital was sharp and polished. The Jaehyun before you now, with his hair dishevelled from taking off the cap earlier, was softer, more open, and more subtle in the way he had slipped under your defences and picked the locks chained around your heart. 

The question now was whether you’d let him in further than you already had.

He tugged at his collar. “God, it’s still muggy at night, isn’t it?” 

“You stay here, I’ll get us some more beers,” you said, already standing up.

If anything, you were grateful for the errand, a welcome distraction from the tumultuous battle between your heart and your head that always forged on at any thought of him. The line for the bar was no shorter than it had been half an hour ago, to nobody’s surprise (this was a festival in Seoul, of course the queues would be severe) and it was a while before the two cold plastic cups were in your hands. 

The short time away from him had given you the space to steer your mindset back onto the charted platonic course. A little voice in the back of your mind objected, and was making a damn convincing argument about why you should be more inclined to go beyond plain friendship with Jaehyun, but you chose to ignore it, suppressing the nagging with a deep breath and a smile that you hoped looked less conflicted than how you felt. Beers in hand, you carefully made your way back to the picnic table — only to be met with a rather interesting sight.

Jaehyun was still where you had left him, thankfully. But the two girls that now stood around him were a new addition. 

“Hey,” you greeted, tapping him on the shoulder to pass him one of the beers. The taller girl visibly deflated when he flashed you a grateful smile, taking the plastic cup from your hand. The shorter one, however, ran her eyes up and down your figure with an almost calculating gaze.

“Is this your friend?” the shorter one asked, question directed at Jaehyun.

“Uh, yeah, um—hi,” you answered very eloquently, introducing yourself. You tossed a glance between Jaehyun and the two girls. “Do you um—are you guys friends?”

“Well, no, not really. Minjeong and Jimin just came—”

“We were actually going to ask if you guys wanted to join us up closer to the main stage?” the shorter one (Minjeong perhaps?) asked, flashing a sweet smile you suspected was more for Jaehyun’s benefit than yours. “We have a blanket and a few chairs set up, so you can sit and watch the closing set. It’s much more comfortable than standing inside the barricade.”

“Jaehyun looked a little lonely by himself,” the taller one added.

Lonely because you left him for ten minutes to go get some cold drinks? These girls were unbelievable.

“What do you say? Want to join us?”

Maybe you should’ve taken the group of highschoolers on the subway earlier more seriously as a forewarning. Not that you had any say in what Jaehyun could and could not do — he was his own person, and the closest thing you had to a claim on him had disintegrated years ago. If he wanted to go hang out with pretty strangers, he could go and do exactly that, and you didn’t have to follow him either. The invitation had clearly been meant for him more than it had been for you.

So what if you had been looking forward to enjoying the last set together? You were a big girl. You could brave the main stage crowds by yourself if you had to.

Jaehyun glanced at you, searching your eyes while you tried your best to keep your face neutral and devoid of the uneasy thoughts bubbling away beneath your skin. He was his own person. He could make his own choices. 

After a second or two, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and turned back to the two expectant girls with a polite smile. “We’ll take our chances with the pit,” he answered. “But thank you for the offer. That’s kind of you guys.”

The two girls made their exit shortly afterwards, but not without a final look at him, and a decidedly less enthusiastic one at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the two of you sipping on your beers without a word, waiting for the other to speak.

“You could have gone with them if you wanted to,” you finally mumbled, eyes fixed on the contents of your cup.

To your surprise, Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m pretty sure Minjeong had an engagement ring on her finger.”

“Oh, what?” 

You definitely had not noticed, too occupied by the saccharine looks she was throwing his way.

“Yeah. It was a pretty big diamond too. I think she must have forgotten to take it off today.”

You turned to look at him then. Jaehyun already had his eyes on you, sporting a lazy grin. “Come on, you can’t think I’m the type to mess around with married women?”

“That’s not what I—I didn’t know—”

“Don’t worry,” he interjected. “You’re still cute when you’re jealous.”

The quick heat rising to your face dispelled any of the remaining nonchalance in your expression. “I wasn’t—I’m not jealous,” you spluttered. “I was just worried—I mean, not worried,” you paused, sighing. “I thought you’d leave me.”

His eyes sought out yours, keeping them captive once they grabbed a hold. 

“I wouldn’t leave you.”

The teasing brevity to his voice had disappeared. Somehow, you had the feeling he wasn’t simply talking about the jazz festival. The sincerity in his gaze made it hard to look away, but you had to, in the name of self preservation. Too long staring into those brown eyes was an unnecessary test of the upper limits of your heart rate. 

“Maybe she came with her husband. He could be up there on that picnic mat, waiting for her.”

He laughed, throwing his head back. “Trust me, if her husband was here, she would not have been looking at me like that.”

To their credit though, finding a spot to watch the main stage proved to be rather difficult now that everyone had arrived to catch the final act. For a moment you considered leaving the pit to take the two girls up on their offer. But with Jaehyun by your side, you were able to navigate the crowds with a bit more peace of mind, his presence a solid and comforting anchor within the sea of people. A few rogue pushes here and there had you stumbling — and perhaps the two beers on a rather empty stomach were coming on faster than you had expected — but he was there, steadying you with a gentle hand around your arm, or the light press of his firm chest against your back.

And maybe you leaned into him for longer than necessary to regain your balance, but was that really a crime? To enjoy the touch of a friend? Was it a crime for warmth to pool in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him swaying along to Lauv’s Enemies?

No, the little voice in your head denied forcefully. Jaehyun grooving to the music had always been one of your weaknesses. 

As the closing chords of Paris in the Rain sounded out across the venue, you pulled out your film camera.

“Walking down an empty street.”

A gentle nudge of Jaehyun’s shoulder had him turning towards you, nose scrunched in a happy half-laugh from watching the performance. You moved to face the back of the crowd and raised the camera high, pointing it towards the two of you. 

Was the stage in the shot? Was Lauv? 

Were you?

“Puddles underneath our feet.”

Call it courage, or liquid courage, or just plain recklessness on your part. Rising up on your tiptoes, you pressed your cheek to his, and clicked the shutter button. 

The final chord of the song struck, softly, like an afterthought, and the crowd burst into appreciative hoots and applause, marking the end of the performance.

You were beaming as you turned back towards him. “Do you think I got that one?”

Jaehyun simply stared at you, lips parted and turned up slightly at the corners. He looked more caught off-guard than he had when you had told him you thought all the Cigarettes After Sex songs sounded the same. You felt the glowing smile on your face slip, little by little, as you let his eyes roam your features, gaze indecipherable. They flitted to your lips, and for a second you were sure you stopped breathing.

Just do it! Just fucking do it! screamed that little voice in the back of your mind.

And perhaps you would’ve done it too, whatever it was, if it weren’t for the shove from behind that sent you almost face-planting into his chest.

“What the hell?” you yelped, whipping your head around. 

What was with the people here today? You never thought jazz lovers could be so aggressive and insensitive to others’ personal space. Trying to find the perpetrator was a futile task, since the crowd had started to disperse following the end of the performance, moving in all directions.

Jaehyun looked over you with concern, the earlier expression on his face now gone. 

“Come on,” he finally said, fingers gently circling around your wrist. “Let’s get out of here before we get trampled by the crowd.”

Overhead, the blue-black sky that had been so cooperative for the whole day emitted a low rumble, as if to emphasise Jaehyun’s words. Sure enough, by the time the two of you arrived at the station, it had started to sprinkle. Perhaps the clouds had been holding back the rain until the very end of the festival. How considerate of them, you thought.

The ride back into the city felt shorter than the one to the venue, though it couldn’t have been. Saturday nights were even busier than the weekday rush hour, with people young and old out and about, ready to tame the weekend with sheer determination and a bottle of soju in the stomach. This time, there were no free seats in your carriage, but you didn’t mind. Standing with Jaehyun, your heads pressed together to go through the videos in his camera roll, made the time pass faster. There was something to his photos, you decided. Something in the angle, or the light, or the composition, that made them look nicer than the ones on your phone. Maybe you ought to take a photography course too.

The clouds may have been considerate enough for the festival to hold off dumping their contents during the day, but they certainly were not for the two of you tonight. Standing under cover at the subway station exit, you watched as the torrential deluge only seemed to worsen. Thunder cracked angrily through the air. It wasn’t July without the threat of flash flooding. 

“Any drivers around?” Jaehyun asked.

You gave a sad shake of your head. “Nobody’s picking up my request. Must be because of the rain,” you muttered. Overhead, the sky split open with a strike of lightning, startling you, and you jumped back a bit, further into the covered area of the exit.

“How about the bus?”

“I think I just missed one,” you answered, checking the timetable on your phone. “It says the next isn’t for another twenty minutes. But with the rain, it might be delayed even longer.”

You flicked through the taxi app, then the bus timetable app, and then finally back to the weather app, which you always seemed to forget to check on days like this. Three consecutive 100% signs stared back at you, and you let out a sigh. The sky would not be clearing up anytime soon.

“My apartment is only two streets down, if you want somewhere to wait out the rain,” he said.

You looked up at him. The smile on his face was guileless, but at the same time, there was something guarded about it, like he was expecting your rejection. Perhaps you had studied his face for too long, because then he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and averting his eyes to the ground.

“Or you don’t have to, we could just—”

“Okay,” you said.

His head shot back up. “Okay?”

You shrugged, a smile finding its way to your lips. “I’d rather not be soaking wet on the bus.”

“Okay,” he repeated, corners of his mouth turning upwards to mirror yours. “To my place, then.”

The usual five minute walk to Jaehyun’s apartment from the subway station turned into a two-and-a-half minute mad dash under the downpour. Despite your attempts at keeping to storefront shelters and ducking under the cover of big trees, the short trip had ended up with the both of you drenched to the bone, teeth chattering as you dripped rainwater all over his lobby.

You said a silent apology to the building cleaners. 

It was a relief to be dry again. Jaehyun’s sweats swamped you, the French terry fabric pooling around your feet as you sat on the couch in his living room. The top was no better, reaching almost to your knees, with the sleeves completely covering your fingertips. His clothes weren’t always this big on you. At least he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent. 

The sound of the running shower blended smoothly with the raindrops pelting violently against the balcony window. You wrung your hands, unsure of what to do while you waited for him to come out of the bathroom. It was easy to feel out of place in a home foreign to you. The sleek furniture and minimalist colour palette of the apartment looked nothing like Jaehyun’s childhood bedroom. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to come to his place. While you were pretty sure he hadn’t invited you up with any ulterior motives in mind, there was still something ambiguous about being in your ex-boyfriend’s home and wearing his clothes. And only his clothes. 

You would have liked to keep your undergarments on, but they had also been soaked through. Going bare in these too-big sweats had seemed the less questionable option, compared to sitting with a wet patch around your butt and crotch. Heat flooded your face as you thought about your underwear and bra hanging on the heated towel rack in the bathroom. 

Whatever. It wasn’t like they were things he’d never seen before. And as for his clothes, of course you’d wash them before giving them back to him. 

It was then that you decided that you had enough of sitting around in a puddle of fabric and your own thoughts. Jaehyun’s living room wasn’t all that big, even if it felt roomier than your own, with enough space to fit a decently-sized couch and small coffee table. The tv on the far wall sat atop a rather large entertainment unit that, upon further inspection, also housed a record player and an impressive collection of vinyls. 

You padded over, eyes flicking through the various titles printed on the covers. One of them had been taken out from the shelf and sat splayed on top of the cabinet. Maybe he had meant to play it, or just forgotten to put it away. Slowly, you let a finger trace around the edge of the jacket and over the black lettering of the title. You’d recognise that white album cover anywhere.

Only you knew how much effort it had taken to source the thing, scouring auction sites and dodgy online stores until you finally bit the bullet and ordered it from a reasonable-looking seller with a 4.7 star rating. But it had all been worth it. The unadulterated joy on Jaehyun’s face as he undid the wrapping paper to reveal Frank Ocean’s Blonde was not something you could easily forget. Later, you found out that it had probably been a bootleg, since the official Blonde vinyls were a limited release, but he had hardly batted an eye when you broke the news.

“Still my favourite birthday present that anyone’s gotten me,” Jaehyun said. 

Dressed in a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweatpants, he leant against the bathroom door, surveying you with an easy smile. You must not have heard the shower turn off, the noise drowned out by the storm raging outside. His hair, still damp from the shower, hung over his eyes, and you watched as he brushed it back with his right hand, arm flexing with the movement.

The sudden flare in your lower belly was something you’d rather not feel, alone in these four walls with him, with nobody else around to witness or put a stop to whatever might follow. You’d like to think self control was something you had a firm grip on, but it seemed Jaehyun was made to put you to the test.

“Actually think it might be my favourite present ever,” he added, pushing off the door frame. He reached you in a few strides, maintaining a polite distance between your bodies.

“I didn’t even realise you still had this,” you murmured, letting him take the record from your hands. You tried not to flinch at the brush of his fingers against yours. “You didn’t even have one of these back then,” you said, lightly tapping the case of the record player.

“I changed my mind, actually. The turntable is my favourite present.”

An unfamiliar twinge of dread zipped through you. “Who gave it to you?” 

Could it be an ex-lover’s gift sitting on display in his living room? That did not sit nicely in your stomach.

“Myself.” 

He was holding back a laugh, eyes squeezed into crescent moons and too busy appreciating his own joke to catch the quick roll of your eyes. Instantly, your chest felt a little lighter, and the dread vanished as quickly as it had come on.

“Here, let me put it on,” he said, shuffling over towards you to lift up the case on the record player. With gentle fingers and a delicateness you didn’t see often, he unsleeved the record and carefully placed it on the turntable. A few fiddles with the side knobs and a precise adjustment of the needle arm later, the opening bars of Frank Ocean’s Pink and White filled the air of his living room.

For a minute, there were no words exchanged, the two of you simply content to enjoy the music as it filtered through the speakers. There was a quiet smile on Jaehyun’s face. You wondered if he, like you, was thinking of the last time you had listened to this album together.

The image of the two of you, sprawled out on his bed, sharing a pair of wired earphones, was hard to shake. It had been early evening, or nearly twilight. Sometime before sunset. The reflection on the ceiling of his childhood bedroom had changed along with the sky, until the only light left in the room was the dim blue glow from the laptop on his desk. At his mother’s call for dinner, he had gently shaken you awake, fingers light on your shoulder and against your cheek. 

Jaehyun was undoubtedly handsome in the light. But there was something about dusk and the softness of the shadows on his face that made him all the more compelling. You usually weren’t one to initiate, so the kiss you pressed to his mouth in the barely-lit room had surprised you both. 

Even now, the thought strangely sent a flood of heat to your cheeks.

“Sorry, did you want something to eat? I haven’t been a very good host.”

The grumble of your stomach answered before you could. You bit back an embarrassed smile, but Jaehyun was not so frugal with his amusement, letting out a short chuckle. Your feet followed him as he made his way to the kitchen. Perched on the marble countertop, you watched as he rummaged through the fridge.

“I have eggs, yesterday’s leftovers, and a shit ton of beer cans,” he announced. 

You exchanged a glance.

“Let’s do ramen, actually. That sounds better.” He bent down to dig through the pantry, pulling out two red packets, before moving back to the fridge and getting two eggs. “I can crack these in too, and—why are you looking at me like that?”

It was your turn to laugh, the wide grin on your face a contrast to the cautious smile on his.

“Are we having ramen?”

His brow creased a little. “I thought you liked ramen?” The innocent tilt of his head made him all the more endearing to look at.

“I do, but… did you really invite me back to your place… to have ramen?”

It took a few seconds for the ball to drop. You held back giggles as his ears flushed hotly, as they always seemed to do on the occasions you decided to indulge yourself and tease him.

“Come on, that’s not—you’re doing it on purpose,” he said, bottom lip jutting out with the suggestion of a pout. Despite his grumbles, the shape of his mouth slowly settled into a defeated smile at your visible glee of having flustered him. 

Jaehyun, soft-spoken and easy-going, was not the type to be easily ruffled. You excelled and enjoyed the challenge of it more than most.

“No,” he said once your laughter had somewhat subsided, voice low and velvety. “But I wouldn’t be opposed.”

And suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore.

The silence that followed was a loud one. It was hard to ignore the way your mouth dried up at his words. Something warm and tingly spread from your stomach all the way down to your toes as you stood there under his level gaze, eyes drawn to his like magnets. He had to know. The effect his words had on you were surely plastered all over your face, obvious in the tight grip of your fingers against the countertop and the shortening of your breaths.

Jaehyun leaned in a little closer and you felt the inhale stick in the back of your throat. Then he cracked a crooked smile, pretty teeth all on display. 

“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”

He moved away then, busying himself with pouring water into a pot and bringing it to a boil while you tried to blink yourself out of the daze. “Ramen okay?” he asked over his shoulder.

You cleared your dry throat, somehow finding your voice again. “Ramen is fine. Thank you,” you added after a beat. You took a deep breath, waiting for the rush of blood to drain from your face. 

Something sour settled in your chest — something akin to disappointment, though surely it couldn’t be. Disappointed that what? Jaehyun wasn’t actually sexually attracted to you? When you were obviously still attracted to him, despite all your attempts at convincing yourself you weren’t?

You scoffed to yourself. As if.

A quick shake of your head was almost enough to clear your mind, save for the remnants of that sour feeling that lingered. You asked if there was anything you could do to help, not wanting to simply sit around on your thumbs and wait to be fed. He had insisted you do exactly that, warning you there was only enough space in the kitchen for one, and assuring that there was nothing he needed from you besides patience and faith in his cooking. 

Patience you could give him. Faith was a little harder to muster, given your memories of the kitchen disaster from when he had tried to make okonomiyaki. 

The questionable, half-burnt half-uncooked taste was one thing. You finding random pieces of cabbage on the tiled floor for days afterwards was another thing entirely.

However, it seemed Jaehyun had improved from his old ways. The steaming pot he brought over to the coffee table not only smelled delicious, but looked the part too. You helped carry over the small bowls and chopsticks, along with two cans of beer, despite his requests for you to just sit and be ready to eat.

You took the first bite, blowing on the noodles to cool them down before slurping them into your mouth. All the while, he watched you, an expectant expression painting his face. 

“Wow. You’ve grown up, Jeong Jaehyun. Who would’ve guessed you’d become such a whiz in the kitchen?” 

He smiled, a bashful one at your compliment. “Being able to cook ramen is nothing impressive,” he said, digging in with his own chopsticks.

“There was no way you could have made this for me when we were 17. Look at this egg!” The centre was perfectly soft, not too runny, but not rock hard either. Just the way you liked them. 

You took another mouthful. “You’re a changed man,” you said. “Honestly, your place is a lot cleaner than I expected it to be.”

“That’s what living with four other guys will do to you. I had to learn how to clean out of pure survival,” he chuckled. 

“Was it really that bad?”

He grimaced. “You should’ve seen my dorm room. Basically a biological hazard.”

“They didn’t let non-students into the building. Your building RA was crazy scary, remember?” Even now you could remember the perpetual scowl of the law major when Jaehyun brought you into the dorm lobby.

“It was probably for the best. You would’ve broken up with me on the spot the second you walked through the door.”

You shared a laugh. Strangely, jokes about your break-up were light-hearted in their landing, the words leaving much less of a prickly uncomfortableness than you had been expecting. Perhaps it was still an event of importance in your life, but that cloudy unpleasantness you had come to associate it with had dissipated. It was a turning point, certainly. But so was graduation, and moving out, and travelling overseas for the first time. 

Your feelings about those things weren’t all bad. As you shared the pot of ramen and sipped on your beers, you realised, neither were your feelings about Jaehyun.

“I’m telling you, I was drinking Taeyong under the table. And I do mean that literally. He was passed out and laid across the stools.” He grinned, proud at the memory of beating his senior even five years later. You couldn’t help but grin too, amused by the sincerity of his expression and the way his shoulders set in accomplishment.

“Okay, okay. So now you’re a better drinker, you’ve gotten good at cooking, and you’re cleaner too.”

“And funnier,” he added.

“That one is still up for debate,” you joked, and his eyebrows furrowed together in mock offence. Digs at his sense of humour were not taken lightly. 

“Just because you don’t get my high quality gags,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re missing out.”

You nodded, making a noise of agreement if only to appease him. 

“What about me? How am I different?” you asked, voice curious. 

Jaehyun didn’t miss a beat. “Hmm, I think you got older?”

“Come on, I’m being serious!”

His laughter subdued then, surveying you thoughtfully. A quiet smile tugged at his lips when he spoke again. 

“You’re more outspoken than you used to be.” He paused, taking a sip from his can while trying to find the right words, all the while keeping his eyes on you. “You prioritise yourself more. And you’re more sure of who you are. You shine brighter, I think.”

Strange, how a person’s gaze could strip you down and make you feel so naked. There was nothing but earnestness in his eyes, plain and absolute, and the intensity of it was almost too much for you to bear. After all your time apart, Jaehyun could still see you, and see through you. 

I think you still know me inside out, and that scares me, you wanted to tell him.

Instead, you looked away first, tearing your eyes away from his with considerable effort. The pot of ramen on the coffee table, lukewarm now, was almost finished. The music had also stopped playing a while ago. Neither you or Jaehyun had bothered to get up and flip the vinyl to the other side, too busy eating. All that was left was the rain, and even that had faded to a soft pattering against the glass, following its own rhythm. 

Hastily, you stuffed a piece of kimchi into your mouth, for lack of anything better to do. The crunch of it in your mouth was loud, and you fought back a cringe.

“Did your mother make this?” you asked, hoping your attempt at diverting the conversation wasn’t so obvious.

If Jaehyun noticed, he didn’t show it, only nodding in confirmation. 

“She dropped some off last month,” he replied. “Remember how you told me her’s was better than your own mother’s?”

You let out a scandalised gasp. “As if I would ever say such a thing! Don’t let my mother ever hear something so blasphemous about her favourite daughter.”

“You’re her only daughter.”

“And you care too much about technicalities. Just because I’m the only one doesn’t mean I can’t still be the favourite.”

The crisp crunch of another piece of kimchi punctuated the end of your sentence. There was certainly something different about Mama Jeong’s recipes. If there was one thing you missed besides Jaehyun himself, it would have been his mother’s cooking. The woman knew her way around a stovetop better than a Michelin chef, at least in your eyes. 

You thought of her warm smile, and her even warmer embrace. Jaehyun had inherited many things from her, kindness being the greatest of them. Back then, she had been so sure of your future place in their family, welcoming you into her home as if you were her own daughter. You wondered where she stood on that now.

Still clinging onto that idea, perhaps, or were her sights now set on someone else?

“You’ve got something…”  Jaehyun murmured.

He reached across the table, over the pot and the small bowls, the movement quick and almost instinctive. Soft fingers found purchase on your left cheek. His thumb was gentle as it brushed away the stray chilli flake from the corner of your mouth.

Just the lightest touch against your bottom lip. And the warmth of his hand cradling your face.

Then he froze, as if to catch himself, but the damage was already done.

Jaehyun pulled his hand back with a start, an inscrutable expression across his face. He spilled a quick apology that you smiled away, putting on a composed front. At least, you assumed it was an apology. It was hard to hear anything above the buzzing chaos of your mind. The air filled with idle noise as the two of you shuffled in your seats.

“I should um—I should probably get going,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. The meal had long been finished. Your hands were already beginning to gather up the bowls and utensils into a stack for easy carrying. 

Jaehyun hummed, something akin to resignation in the noise. “Yeah, uh… I guess so.”

“Let me help you clean up first, and then I’ll be on my way.”

Despite his protests against you assisting with any kind of housework, there you were at the sink, helping him scrub everything nice and clean within the small space of his kitchen. Maybe he was right about there only being enough space for one person behind the counter. The aluminium beer cans went into their designated bins, and you made sure to wipe down the coffee table too.

This time, your half-damp, half-dried clothes found their way into a Byredo shopping bag — Jaehyun would rather die than not smell good — though your shoes still squelched rather uncomfortably when you slipped your bare feet in. By luck, you were able to book a taxi and could pass on the wet walk to the bus stop.

You thanked him again for bringing you along, noting that you probably got more out of the alleged ‘favour’ than he did. 

“Trust me, going with you made the whole thing so much better,” he said, both cheeks dimpling in your favourite smile of his. “And let me know if you need to get the film on your camera developed. I know a place.”

The ride home was flavoured by a sudden loneliness. Maybe it was the view of the city at night, or the absence of people out on the rainy streets, that had an empty feeling settle in your chest. 

Perhaps you should have delayed leaving his apartment. Perhaps you shouldn’t have left at all, and instead weathered the night away with Jaehyun on the couch, some slasher flick playing on the television while you shook under the blankets and tried not to scream at the jumpscares, like you used to. You never did understand why he liked horror films as much as he did.

Perhaps he’d slot his fingers between your own and give them a reassuring squeeze, and gaze at you with the kind of amused fondness he only ever reserved for you.

Heat flooded your face. As if you were entertaining the thought of spending the night at your ex-boyfriend’s place. And getting butterflies at the thought of holding hands? 

How embarrassing.

One thing was for certain. The walls you had put up were cracking, and there seemed to be little hope of patching them up.

“Will you stop messing with that thing?”

Jungwoo clicked his tongue against his teeth, fingers still fiddling with the ribbon on the gift bag. 

“It’s not straight,” he grumbled, pulling at the bow.

“You’re so pedantic.”

“It’s called being detail-oriented,” he fired back, leaning against the backseat of the taxi with a sigh.

You raised an eyebrow. “You say that like I’m not.”

“Well,” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. His mouth formed the shape of a smirk. 

You flicked a glance towards the rearview mirror, checking to see if the driver was paying attention to the two of you in the back. After verifying he was not, you landed a few (soft…ish) punches on Jungwoo’s upper arm, revelling in the shocked little noises he made, along with a few mumbles of ‘that actually hurts’ and ‘crazy woman’. 

How nice it was to let your hands fly without the threat of some other fifth floor witness reporting you for physical harassment. 

“I’m telling Joy the present is entirely from me,” you warned, turning around to face the front again.

“Right, except the card inside says my name too. So that’s not going to work.”

You reached into the gift bag, pulling out said card before rolling down the window. “Let me just throw this out.”

It was Jungwoo’s turn to deliver a light smack to your wrist. You dropped the envelope back in the bag, not without tossing an eye-roll his way. He knew just as well as you did that there was no real substance behind the threats — banter with Jungwoo was more for amusement than anything else. Deep down, you were quite fond of him, even if your actions tended to say otherwise, and you’d like to wager he quite enjoyed your company too. 

You couldn’t wait to get a few shots in him later tonight. Word had it he was a notorious lightweight. 

“Hopefully nobody vomits. I’d hate to be cleaning that up in my own house.” He shuddered at the thought. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” you smiled sweetly, patting him on the shoulder. “You just focus on sticking to your limit, okay? I heard what happened at last year’s wrap up event.”

He bristled. “Nothing happened! It honestly wasn’t even that bad. I’m getting unfairly slandered,” he sulked. “I think you should stop hanging out with Joy so much.”

“Yeah, alright. Should we just skip her birthday party and turn the car around then?”

“Shut up.”

The taxi pulled up in front of Joy’s apartment complex, a tall modern thing with much bigger windows than your own building. And so much more glass, too. After splitting the taxi fare with Jungwoo, the two of you stood at the entrance, waiting for the intercom to connect. 

“Are you sure you pressed the right buttons?” Jungwoo asked, peering over your shoulder.

“Yes, of course. Apartment 814.”

“Maybe you should let me try.”

You let out a sigh. “It’s three numbers, Jungwoo. How is it going to be any different if it’s you pressing them instead of me? Do you think the keypad is going to magically—”

“Hello?” 

An unfamiliar male voice crackled through the intercom. “Are you here for Joy?” 

“Yes,” you and Jungwoo answered in unison. 

“Great, I’ll come down to get you guys now. Will only be a minute!” and then the line disconnected.

You and Jungwoo exchanged a glance. “Is he going to let us in?” you asked. 

“He literally said he’d come down to get us,” he answered flatly. “Do you not listen?”

“It was hard to hear him clearly with all the noise in the background,” you grumbled in defence. Hopefully Joy’s walls were thicker than your own, and her neighbours would not lodge a complaint halfway through the night.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal the face of the intercom answerer. It wasn’t detective work to match up the real thing to the pictures Joy would sometimes show you, though he looked taller in real life than he did in the photos from their weekend Jeju trip.

“Sorry about the wait, it was a bit hard to hear the doorbell,” he greeted, ushering you both inside with a warm smile. “I’m Doyoung, by the way.”

You and Jungwoo both introduced yourselves as you stepped into the elevator after him, to which he responded with a hum in recognition, and a knowing grin.

“Are you on door duty for the night?” Jungwoo asked.

Doyoung nodded, pressing on the button for the eighth floor. “It appears I am. She has her hands full with guests to entertain, so,” he trailed off, eyes glazing over for a split second, “you’ll see what I mean when we get up there.”

You had never imagined that a 2-bedroom apartment could fit so many people. Granted, it was nothing compared to the kind of parties you frequented during your university days where cheap spirits and green soju bottles lined the counter, but it was quite a distant cry from the gathering you thought it would be. Judging by the look on Jungwoo’s face, he had not been expecting this either. 

There had to be at least forty people. It almost made you wonder why she didn’t just book out a space instead of letting everyone invade her and her boyfriend’s shared home.

Doyoung made his exit rather quickly after letting you in, probably off to tend to one of his many other duties as unofficial host — poor guy was likely in for a very busy night — leaving you and Jungwoo to fend for yourselves in the entryway of the apartment. There was barely any room left in the tiled space for you to put your shoes.

How did Joy even know this many people? was the thought at the forefront of your mind as you helped Jungwoo stack his sneakers next to yours on a rack further down the hallway. Her present was left on a table near the entry piled with gift bags and wrapped boxes that you assumed was the designated drop-off area. 

Speaking of the birthday girl, you spotted her mingling in the living room and pointed her out to Jungwoo, though it was no easy feat finding her. The number of people, coupled with the dim ambient lighting, made it a challenge to recognise familiar faces. Joy, champagne glass in hand, was swept away in conversation with one of the most beautiful women you had ever laid eyes on. The gorgeous lady held a matching champagne flute in one hand, while the other was wrapped around the arm of—

“Junmyeon? What the hell is he doing here with that beautiful woman?” 

Jungwoo took the words right out of your mouth, a somewhat displeased noise making its way past his lips. You couldn’t help but echo the sentiment.

“Can’t believe this turned into a work function the moment we stepped through the door,” you all but groaned. “And here I thought having you around was bad enough already.”

You expertly dodged the elbow he jabbed into your side.

Joy spotted the two of you then, lingering by the kitchen, and quickly excused herself from the conversation to rush over. The champagne wobbled precariously in her glass as she approached, engulfing the two of you in a sweet-smelling hug.

“My little children! I’m so glad you could make it!” she cried, resting her chin in the space between your shoulder and Jungwoo’s. You exchanged a glance with the boy amidst the chorus of ‘happy birthday’s. 

There was a 77% chance she was drunk already.

“Had a little too much fun tonight?” you asked, helping to prop her upright again.

Joy only beamed in response. “All the more fun now that you two are here. My favourite fifth floor prisoners.” She gave your cheek a soft pinch.

“Quick question,” Jungwoo began, “why is our manager in your house?”

“With his arm around a beautiful woman way out of his league?” you added, swatting her fingers away from your face.

“That’s my sister Irene,” she said, like it was common knowledge. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you have a sister?”

“Okay, well not my real sister,” she amended, hurriedly waving off your words. “She was a senior in my department. I was really close with her back in university, so, basically my sister. I think we look pretty alike, honestly.”

“And her relation to Junmyeon is…?”

Joy threw a conspiratorial glance around before leaning in, beckoning the two of you closer. This time, a few drops of the champagne did manage to escape via the side of her glass, narrowly missing Jungwoo’s white socks.

“I set them up. On a date!” she whispered, eyes glinting with pride. Why she chose to whisper when it was already hard enough to hear her above the noise at her normal speaking level was beyond you.

You blinked at her a few times. “You set up a goddess like that… with our manager?”

Joy waved another hand dismissively. “Oh, please. Like Junmyeon’s not handsome too. You only think that because you’re too used to seeing him frown and squint at a monitor.” 

You cast a glance in his direction. Maybe she was right. Junmyeon did look somewhat more like a human without his glasses and the semi-permanent lines etched into his forehead. He even looked (dare you say it) quite nice. But maybe it was the poor lighting that made it seem that way.

“Anyways, it’s been about… two months now? I think they look pretty good together,” she mused, following your gaze. 

Junmyeon must have said something funny — a rather loose use of the word by your standards — because Irene had her lovely face scrunched up in a laugh, the pitched sound of it ringing out clearly above the noise of the apartment. In her amusement, she even threw a hand out to slap him lightly on the arm, which he appeared very pleased by.

Sure, you laughed at his jokes too, but it was more out of corporate self-preservation than actual amusement. 

“He kind of has been in a better mood recently,” Jungwoo said thoughtfully.

Joy grabbed his hand with fervour. “Yes, exactly! See? Thanks to my sacrifice, we can all enjoy a nicer, much more pleasant office environment.”

“I’d hardly call that a sacrifice,” you chuckled. “You take too much pleasure in playing matchmaker.” Joy’s response was nothing more than a guilty smile, followed by her emptying the rest of the glass.

It was then that you heard it — the deep, reverberating laugh that always bordered a little bit on breathlessness. It was slightly unnerving how quickly you could pinpoint the sound of his voice without even seeing him, or knowing that he had entered the room. 

You turned around first, eyes drawn to the entry hallway in search of the face to which the laugh belonged. Of course he was going to be here. You knew that. He had said as much two days ago, bidding you farewell across the cafeteria table with a promise to ‘see you on the weekend at Joy’s’.

Lunch with Jaehyun had recently become a rarer occurrence. From what he told you, and the bits of information you gleaned from Joy about Digital, Johnny had pulled Jaehyun onto his team to try and get a firmer grip on the reins not even two weeks ago. Already, the intensity of the new workload was obvious.

You certainly saw him less, much to your disappointment — you could admit that to yourself now.

Jaehyun emerged from the hallway then, midway through another laugh with an arm slung around Doyoung’s shoulders. Funny, how all the other faces were so murky and hard to identify under the dim lighting. And yet, the shape of his dimpled smile was unmistakable to you, as bright as the beacon of a lighthouse on the midnight sea. 

Doyoung scanned the room, catching sight of Joy with you and Jungwoo. He gestured at his girlfriend, and Jaehyun obediently turned in your direction, likely wanting to give his greetings to the birthday girl.

Your eyes locked, and your heart gave a woeful little squeeze in your chest.

“I’m just going to do a quick check on the drink inventory,” Doyoung said as they approached, “I’ll be right back. And please take care of my favourite guest.” With a final friendly pat on Jaehyun’s shoulder, he was off, ducking into the kitchen. 

“Happy birthday!” Jaehyun beamed, arms circling around Joy in a hug which she enthusiastically returned. He grabbed Jungwoo’s hand, pulling him in for one of those man greetings. (Since when were they close?) Their apparent friendship was an unexpected development. 

And then it was your turn. You wondered if it was as easy for others to find solace in a mere gaze as you did with Jaehyun. His eyes did not stray far, wandering around your face, something tender and comforting in his appraisal of your features. A hand came up to brush against your lower back, a gentle and quiet greeting against the excitement of the previous two. His lips pulled into a soft smile as he called your name in greeting. 

“You two are ridiculous,” Joy scoffed.

You inhaled sharply. Was it really that easy to tell? The depth of your attachment?

“You planned this, right? I mean seriously, matching outfits?” she asked, gesturing at you and Jaehyun.

You blinked a few times, looking down blankly at yourself. The dark wash denim and white silk that you had picked out yesterday looked back at you familiarly. Then you glanced at Jaehyun, taking in his white t-shirt, half tucked into a pair of jeans that were exactly the same wash as yours. 

The coordination was completely unintentional — you had no idea what you were going to wear tonight the last time you had spoken to him — but the look on Joy’s face told you there was no use in trying to convince her of the truth. 

(You would’ve argued that the cowl neck of your white silk top elevated your outfit above Jaehyun’s plain white tee, but you digressed.)

“Okay. I’m done with this,” Jungwoo said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’m going to do what single people do, and that is to get a goddamn drink.”

“Me too, another bubbly,” Joy chimed, grasping onto Jungwoo’s arm as he turned to leave for the kitchen. “See my success rate? Let me set you up with someone. My hairdresser’s daughter went to Korea University Business School and graduated not too long ago.” 

The rest of her appeal to play matchmaker for Jungwoo was swallowed up by the music and chatter of her guests. And then it was just you, and Jaehyun, and the thirty other people filling up the living room. 

The two of you shared a glance before dissolving into a few light giggles. 

“I do think I pull it off better,” you teased, giving Jaehyun another once-over. He was as handsome as always, the white cotton draped picturesquely across his lean frame while the dark jeans made his mile-long legs look even longer. He could wear a garbage bag and make it look couture. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he said with a crooked smile. 

He raised his arm to reveal the denim jacket draped across his arm that you hadn’t noticed before, too busy making sad little googly eyes at him that you hoped other people couldn’t see. The jacket was coloured in the same wash as his jeans, and your own. 

You gave a scandalised gasp. “No, a matching set? How am I supposed to beat that?”

“You can’t. You can only admit defeat to the double denim. I out-Justin-Timberlaked you.”

“Justin Timberlake is not a verb.”

He only grinned in response, teeth pearly and eyes sparkling as he took in the slight pout of your mouth. 

“Whatever,” you conceded with a wave of your hand, though a smile crept its way onto your face. “You win. Let’s get something to drink.”

Jungwoo and Joy were nowhere to be found when the two of you made your way to the kitchen. What you did find was an impressive selection of bottles atop the marble counter, a selection that easily outdid the ones from your university days in both quality and variety. 

At least one thing was the same. Green soju bottles were always a dependable presence. 

“Shall we go for your favourite?” Jaehyun asked, holding up what looked to be a bottle of wine. You moved a little closer, peering at the label through his fingers.

“I do enjoy a good red,” you replied, accepting the glass he offered you with a quiet ‘thank you’. You took a small sip — because tonight, you felt no need to gulp down alcohol like a camel to ease your nerves — before adding, “Merlot is far from my favourite though.”

“Really?’ He raised an eyebrow. “I do seem to remember how you pretty much finished a whole bottle by yourself. At dinner, that time at the Italian place.”

You held back a wince at the recollection of that fated blind date. Of course he’d remember that. It would be hard to forget the way you all but sculled down three full glasses in the time it took him to finish one. A quick sideways glance revealed the slight upturn to the corners of his mouth, paired with a telling glint in his eyes. Jaehyun was teasing.

“It was honestly quite impressive,” he said, lips curling into a full-blown smile now.

“That was different,” you said. The next sip went down a little faster than you would have liked. “That was out of necessity.” 

There was no way I could’ve made it through that night without alcohol in my system, you almost said, but caught yourself just in time. 

A few seconds passed before either of you spoke again.

“Were you really upset to see me?”

Gone was the playful lilt to his voice. This question was asked softly, carefully, the sound of it so delicate you were afraid it would shatter in the air at your clumsy reply. Slowly, you turned to look at him, seeking the reassurance you were sure you could find in his eyes, but they had moved to the contents of his own glass. You followed their path, watching as he gave the liquid a few absent-minded swirls.

“Maybe. A little, I think,” you admitted. “I don’t know. There was a lot going on in my head that day. When I realised it was you.”

A pair of giggling women — Joy’s guests who you didn’t know — approached the counter, one of them tentatively reaching for something in front of you. Noticing her struggle, you shuffled slightly towards Jaehyun, trying to make some space around the counter. The one with her hand outstretched flashed you a grateful smile, which you politely returned, although with far less vigour. 

Perhaps the bustling kitchen in the centre of all the foot traffic wasn’t the best place for a conversation like this.

There was some fussing with the bottle cap, or whatever it was that they couldn’t quite get to work, followed by a considerably clean pour for two people who were clearly not quite sober. Then they were gone, giggling the entire way out of the kitchen and freeing up the space around you.

If you wanted to, you could have stepped back and returned to your original spot before their arrival. Put some more distance between you and Jaehyun again. Not that you were seriously encroaching on his personal space, but it was enough for you to recognise the proximity.

Instead, you took the smallest of steps closer and placed a hand on his forearm. His eyes flitted down at the touch, taking in the way your fingers lay feather-light on his skin, just above the ridge of his wrist. 

“I’m glad it was you,” you said. The words were true, but the honesty of them still tasted odd on your tongue, and you fought back a cringe. Jaehyun finally turned to meet your eyes, some semblance of hope, or maybe it was relief that coloured his expression. “And I’m glad we’re here, now,” you added.

You hoped he knew you weren’t talking about the far right corner of Joy’s kitchen.

Jaehyun smiled, and it was like the sun had finally risen up over the stark mountain peak, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. It was the kind of warmth you didn’t realise you craved until the full force of it spilled over you, washing away the blue and the cold. 

“Me too,” he said softly.

Even if you hadn’t fallen victim to Joy’s schemes, you would like to think the two of you would still end up here, only via longer and slightly different routes. Perhaps an unexpected run-in in the lobby on a Tuesday morning, or the eventual and excruciatingly awkward introduction through Joy. Whatever it may have been, you’d like to think you would’ve found your way to each other again eventually. 

Curiosity tickled your mind. “What about you?”

“Hmm?”

He was still smiling, the lines by his nose just visible, and he had his eyes on you, though there was a faraway look about them. Something about his gaze reminded you of the way you’d regard a painting, framed and hung up on a wall in some art museum — carefully examining the details of the brushstrokes against the canvas, yet all the while trying to hold the whole piece in your mind’s eye, and let it touch the surface of that primal emotion somewhere inside of you. The depth of his gaze was enough to make you self-conscious, and you quickly averted your eyes, taking another sip from your glass. It was a good excuse to school your features before you spoke again.

“How did you feel when you saw me? Were you upset?”

Jaehyun regarded his own glass wistfully. “Not exactly upset, no,” he began, though a movement in his peripheral had him trailing off. 

Another of Joy’s guests had appeared, hovering beside the two of you with his eyes set on the bottle of whiskey directly in front of you. Politely, Jaehyun side-stepped away from the counter and wrapped a gentle hand around the bend of your elbow, guiding you out of the hectic buzz of the kitchen. It stayed there, warm and comforting, until you found your way back to the open space of the living room, and even then he was slow to let you go, fingertips lingering a just second too long before they retreated back to his side. 

“I think I was surprised, more than anything,” he continued. “Didn’t really know what to expect, not that I was expecting much. I never even thought I’d get to see you again after university. Thought you were gone for good.”

He paused, one side of his mouth quirking up slightly. The movement was small, and you wondered if you were supposed to have caught it at all.

“You stood there, with your bag in one hand and your cardigan in the other, looking like you were waiting for me to spontaneously combust—”

“Okay, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“—and all I could think about was how you were even prettier than I remembered. And back then I already thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.”

At that, you were quiet. Whatever silly rebuttal or attempt to defend yourself died quickly on your tongue as you let his confession settle beneath your skin, warming it from the inside out. Jaehyun was not even one bit fazed, looking like he had just said something trivial about the weather, or stated some objective fact like ‘grass is green’. For him, honesty had never been the heavy, cumbersome challenge it was for you. Judging by the resigned smile on his face, he wasn’t expecting some grand response from you either, which was all the better, because god, what were you supposed to say to something like that?

“Oh, there you are,” came a voice from behind you, followed by a hand on your shoulder. 

Joy’s timing was impeccable, as always.

“Sorry, this one is coming with me,” she said to Jaehyun, looping her arm around yours with half-drunken determination. “Us fifth-floors have some business to settle. With darts.”

Your eyes followed the direction of her outstretched arm, where sure enough, there was a dartboard hanging on the wall by the balcony. Jungwoo was there, standing obediently with his hands crossed in front of his stomach as he politely nodded along to whatever Junmyeon was animatedly saying. The beer bottle Jungwoo cradled, now forgotten, seemed more like an accessory than an actual beverage. He caught your eye and sent you a frantic look.

You whipped your head back to Jaehyun. “Please don’t let her take me.” 

Surely, he could see the pleading, the desperation in your eyes.

Jaehyun, having witnessed the whole exchange between you and Jungwoo, only grinned. “It does sound like some serious business,” he said, cheeks dimpling. Joy made a noise of agreement and gave your arm a little tug.

“You’re more than welcome to come and spectate, Jaehyun,” she called out over her shoulder as she herded you towards her destination. His only response was a hearty laugh. You stared at him in despair as you were towed away by the birthday girl. Next time you’d invite his boss to the function.

The game of darts (or seven games, if you were being precise) was decidedly less awful than you had expected. Junmyeon had promised not to speak about work and by some miracle, actually stuck to his word. Maybe you even got to know the guy a little better, outside of his office habits like the specific order in which he drank his three teas everyday (yuja, then chamomile, and lastly peppermint). Like you, he was somewhat of a wine enthusiast, though his knowledge of French vineyards was far superior to yours. 

By the third round, the game had clearly left your little work circle. Jaehyun joined in at one point, competitiveness getting the better of him. Doyoung tried his hand too, and he was honestly abysmal, but smiled the whole time and seemed to be enjoying himself, even if he had to pick the darts off the floor on every turn. Out of all the players over the course of the seven games, Junmyeon’s date Irene had been the most unexpected hidden card, scoring three bullseyes in a row. 

Oh, to be a goddess and have perfect hand-eye coordination. 

“You feeling okay?” you asked a rather blank-looking Jungwoo. His eyes were beginning to droop, and so was the rest of his body, long limbs sprawled out against the leather. You could swear he only had his initial bottle of beer and the two celebratory soju shots Joy had forced him to take (from which you were not exempt either), and yet here he was, half-asleep on the couch.

“Hmm,” was his eloquent reply.

The party was slowly drawing to a close, the living room much emptier now than it had been when you first walked in. Junmyeon and Irene had made their departure some twenty minutes ago, and there were only a handful of guests left, most of them getting ready to leave as well. Grown adults didn’t gamble with their sleep schedules. 

Doyoung emerged from the hallway, running a hand through the mess of hair on top of his head, already tousled from the fifty or so times he had repeated the action throughout the night.

“Okay, she’s knocked out,” he sighed. On his face, you glimpsed the first sign of relief you had seen all night. “I don’t think she’s going to puke, but I left a bucket by the bed just in case.”

You flashed him a grateful smile. “Thank you for tonight. I can’t imagine it was easy having to wrangle all these people for so long.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal. As long as Joy’s happy and had a good time.” 

Even though he was clearly exhausted, Doyoung smiled, and the fondness held within it felt like a private thing you shouldn’t have witnessed. Your mind went, now as it always did, to a certain dimpled smile.

“I’d better get this one home,” you said instead, gesturing at Jungwoo slumped on the couch. You turned towards the boy, patting his shoulder gently. “Come on, time to go.”

“Mmffh.” 

Another brilliant and enlightening response.

The owner of your favourite dimpled smile stepped out from the bathroom to the sight of you struggling to get Jungwoo upright enough to loop an arm around your shoulders. The half-asleep boy was lean, but definitely heavier than he looked, or perhaps the few glasses of wine over the course of the night had sapped some of the strength from your body. Jaehyun was at your side in an instant, shouldering most of Jungwoo’s weight as the two of you dragged him to a standing position.

“I’ll come with you,” he said, no room for discussion in his tone. You had no mind to protest anyway. 

Doyoung was already busying himself with clearing plates and glasses from the living area when Jaehyun bid him farewell. The guy seemed to have formulated a detailed plan of attack to get his apartment back to the no-doubt spotless state it had been prior to tonight.

“I sorted out most of the empty bottles so you should be able to just throw them out in the morning,” Jaehyun said over his shoulder. He crouched on the ground, guiding Jungwoo’s disobedient left foot into the correct shoe, carefully doing up the laces once both feet were inside their corresponding sneakers. 

You tossed a glance back at Doyoung whizzing around the place like a Roomba, feeling a pang of guilt for not having done much to help him clean up. Even though you had been a much more gracious and tidy guest than other people in Joy’s company, you couldn’t help but feel like there was more you could’ve done, apart from babysitting a very not-sober Jungwoo and making sure he didn’t crack his head open on the corner of the coffee table. 

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun said softly. You turned to look at him, half-surprised, and he only flashed you a small smile. “Doyoung likes to clean. I think he finds comfort in it.”

He was fluent as ever in your micro-expressions. Maybe one day you’d learn to stop being surprised by it. 

The taxi back to Jungwoo’s place was shorter than you had expected. His head lolled between your shoulder and Jaehyun’s in the backseat, before finally finding a home in Jaehyun’s lap. Even when you finally tucked the younger boy safely into his own bed — after going to great lengths to extract his building code which involved a series of profuse apologies to his neighbours who you had mistakenly rung in the middle of the night — there was an impressive imprint on his right cheek that exactly matched the side seam on Jaehyun’s jeans. You could’ve sworn there was a small, wet patch of drool left behind on the denim, and you were sure Jaehyun himself had noticed it too, but he gave no indication of complaint.

“Are you far from here?” Jaehyun asked once the elevator had brought the both of you back down to Jungwoo’s lobby.

“I’m actually just a fifteen minute walk away,” you answered.

The invitation in your voice was silent, and you knew he would’ve accompanied you home even if you lived on the other side of the city. Still, some achingly pleasant emotion settled over you when you heard his footsteps fall in with yours against the pavement. He took his place between you and the open street, shielding you from the bustle of late night delivery bikes and club bound taxis.

Though the days still resembled summer, nights were when the beginnings of autumn could reveal itself. The slight chill in the air was not unbearable, but still noticeable against your bare arms, and just enough for goosebumps to spring up on the skin there. Before you could even bring your hands up to wrap them around yourself, Jaehyun shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, drawing the collar close around your neck. The stiff denim was a little rough, but warm from his body heat all the same, with faint traces of his woody scent lingering on the fabric.

Jaehyun thrust his hands in his pockets and grinned. “Now you out-Justin-Timberlake me.”

“Still not a real word.”

You supposed there was something about night-time that made it feel all the more forgiving to the emotional afflictions of the human condition. Perhaps it was only against the muted palette of the midnight blue sky and the dimly lit city streets that you felt brave enough to face the truth of your feelings, without agonising over the consequences of acknowledging them. Even so, you found yourself wishing the night would stretch on for just a little longer. Honesty always seemed to wear off faster than it came on.

“You’ve been crazy busy lately.”

Jaehyun’s responding laugh contained little amusement. “Crazy busy is one way to put it. I can’t believe Johnny has had to deal with all of this the whole time. This client is so,” he paused, trying to find the right word, before finally settling on “demanding.” The look in his eyes gave you the feeling there were many other more colourful adjectives he wanted to use instead.

The two of you passed the convenience store corner of your street. Your place was not too far up ahead, the glass building doors almost visible if you squinted. The night was coming to an end, and something cold and heavy settled in your chest to accompany the realisation.

“They want us in New York working on the new client site as soon as possible, so we’ve been running around trying to get visas and everything sorted,” he sighed. 

Your footsteps faltered. 

“You’re going to New York?” you asked. 

He nodded. 

“When?”

“Within the next week, if everything comes back approved.”

You hadn’t even noticed that you had come to a standstill until Jaehyun’s footsteps also slowed to a stop. The both of you stood like that, under the dim glow from the streetlights, in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“We’ll probably be there until the end of the year, at least until the design piece is done,” he said. 

Did your face betray the sudden drop of your stomach? Did the sound of a fissure cracking through your chest escape through the slight parting of your lips?

It was silly, really. That one small piece of information could turn your entire world on its head. International travel on a project wasn’t a rare occurrence. And you supposed you would’ve found out sooner or later, even if he hadn’t told you, because he had no obligation to update you about every development in his life, even if they involved crossing continents. Even if you wanted to know every little detail. 

Jaehyun’s eyes moved from his shoes to your face. The shadows cast by the streetlights made it hard to decipher his expression, but you thought there was a pleading look to his handsome face. What he was pleading for, you weren’t entirely sure. 

You cleared your throat and finally found your voice again. “That’s really exciting, Jaehyun,” you managed, trying to keep your tone light. “I hear New York is gorgeous this time of year.”

The smile you pasted on your face was a flimsy one, and you could feel your top lip begin to tremble when he didn’t quite return it. Before it could turn into a grimace, you let the corners of your mouth fall. There had never been any use in putting on an act in front of him. Unsure what else to say without sounding insincere — though you were excited for him, truly, this little fit of sadness was a silly thing that would pass surely and quickly — you turned and resumed your steps towards your apartment. 

Another few minutes and you’d be in the safety of your own home. Free to let your top lip tremble and quiver, and let the inexplicable lump in your throat force its way out, rather than try to swallow it down.

It only took a few steps for you to realise that Jaehyun had not followed. You looked over your shoulder to find him standing there by the streetlight, eyes fixed on the ground again. 

“I don’t want to go,” he said, toeing at a crack in the concrete. “If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t. I don’t want to leave…”

You.

He may not have said that last word, but you heard it all the same. Your chest squeezed with emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“But you have to,” you said softly. A gentle breeze blew through the early autumn air and you briefly wondered if your words had been carried adrift.

He looked up at you then, eyes burning into yours with unspoken sentiments. A thousand words were conveyed with that one look, those few seconds in which you understood everything he wanted to say, and nothing he wanted to say, because he hadn’t said much at all. Just like how he could read your emotions with a simple glance at your face, you saw his reluctance. You saw the irresolution in his resolve, and how it wavered as he turned over in his mind the things he wanted to say to you, and how much of his heart he was willing to risk. 

“But I have to,” he agreed. 

Jaehyun still knew you inside out, yes, but you knew him too.

Your feet dragged over the last few hundred metres to your apartment complex, until you finally reached the door and there was nothing left you could do to delay the inevitable.

“Here,” you said, handing his jacket back to him. “Thank you for walking me home.”

He took it from your outstretched hand, fingers just brushing your knuckles. “Of course.”

And maybe Jaehyun was just as unwilling to let you go. His feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete pavement in front of your building, even though you were pretty sure no harm would befall you across the five steps into the lobby. The two of you stood there for a while, neither quite knowing what to say, or how to ward off the odd melancholy you knew he felt too.

There were so few guarantees of forever in life. You knew that. And even if you had never really gotten him back in the first place, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing him again. Except this time, he wouldn’t just be a 67-minute subway ride away. This time, he’d be a 14-hour flight away, on the other side of not the city but the world, with 7,000 miles and the entire Pacific Ocean separating you. 

And yes, he’d come back eventually, but who could promise that the feelings between the two of you now would be the same upon his return? You knew that you were in no position to demand he refrain from exploring other romantic pursuits, to deter him from making new connections in the diverse metropolis that was New York City, and all the excitement and energy that came with it. 

You had unknowingly gotten in the way of that once.

“Well, I’d better get inside,” you said quietly, gesturing at the building behind you. Jaehyun only nodded.

This was it. All things must come to an end, you thought as you walked up to the lobby door. Even if they never really started. Perhaps you and your hesitance to let him in had played the biggest part of all, and whatever it was between you and Jaehyun wouldn’t be ending before it began if you had only been more forgiving at the start. Less pointy and disagreeable. Perhaps then you would be parting now on more certain terms, and you’d carry some peace of mind knowing he’d be coming back to you, instead of the crushing weight of disappointment currently lodged underneath your sternum.

And yet, what difference did it make? You’d be losing him anyway, no matter what you did. In two weeks’ time, he’d be sitting in a conference room on a different continent, regardless of whether you said nothing or cussed him out to his face right now.

Your hand froze on the steel handle for only a second before you turned around to face him again. Three determined strides was all it took to close the distance between you. 

“What is it?” he asked.

There had been few occasions where you had seen Jaehyun drunk, or at least not sober, in the years you had known him. Your split early on in university had not afforded you many chances to witness his supposedly high tolerance in action at weekend benders. Nothing more than a few underage sips snuck from his dad’s glass at the dinner table. You took a second now to look at him, really look at him, taking in all the details of the face you knew almost as well as your own. 

Pink. Everything about him was so pink, from the slight tinge around the whites of his eyes, to the lingering flush in the apples of his cheeks.

To the pretty colour of his soft, full lips. 

They parted with confusion when you approached. Carefully, you reached out a hand and placed it against his cheek, feeling the way he leaned into your touch almost immediately. His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of moments before they were searching your face again, almost fervently. 

“I just…” you whispered, trying to commit this picture of him to memory. 

What difference did it make?

It was hard to tell who moved first. You’d like to believe it didn’t matter.

The rhythm of your lips against his was unfamiliar at first, clumsy from years of disuse. Through slow and careful movements, you reacquainted yourself with the shape of Jaehyun’s mouth, the pillowy swell of his bottom lip as it gently slid in between your own. It fit there perfectly, like it always did. His hands came up to graze the curve of your waist, resting lightly on your skin as if he was afraid you’d crumble like sand in his grasp. 

You tilted your head, parting your mouth ever so slightly to let the tip of your tongue brush against the underside of his top lip. The kiss changed immediately. You felt his surprise in the small puff of air that escaped through his nose and landed softly against your cheek. His fingers gripped at you with a newfound strength, pulling you flush against him. Even through the fabric of your shirts, the outline of his toned chest was unmistakable. Your hands found their home in the softness of hair at the nape of his neck, revelling in the throaty sound that left him as you ran your hands through it. 

How had you denied yourself of this for so long?

Jaehyun must have pulled away first, because suddenly you could breathe again, shaky gasps coming in and out through your mouth. He fared no better, pressing his forehead gently against yours while he tried to catch his breath.

You couldn’t think. You felt electrified, as if every nerve ending in your body was simultaneously firing, as if your blood was laced with dynamite. Hell, you had half a mind to invite him up to your room and finish off what you had so brazenly started.

“It’s late,” he finally managed, voice rough. “You should head in.” His hands, however, stayed firmly in place around your waist. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with each swallow.

Right. Perhaps it was best to let the night end here, before you could do anything else that you might regret. 

“Yeah, I should probably,” you murmured, catching the way his eyes followed each movement of your mouth as you spoke. The sound of your voice seemed to break the daze he was in, and you felt his grip on you loosen, slowly and reluctantly. The arms you had looped around his neck made their way back to your sides. You were released from his warmth far too quickly.

Impulsive decisions (like inviting your ex-boyfriend to spend the night in your one-bedroom apartment with nowhere to sleep except in your bed) seldom ended well. You should’ve known better than to make those rookie mistakes.

You had barely turned around to walk up to your building doors when Jaehyun wrapped a warm hand around your wrist and pulled you back into him. He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing the small noise of surprise that left your mouth. This time, his kiss was softer, surer, and in it you tasted the sweetness of unspoken promises he was determined to keep. 

“I’ll see you when I get back,” he said, dark eyes fixed on you with conviction. Your lip colour had smudged by the side of his mouth, leaving behind a faint pink stain that only added to the pretty hue of his now kiss-swollen lips. 

He was still the most gorgeous person you had ever seen. 

“See you when you’re back, then,” you echoed. 

Some odd emotion, neither happy nor sad, settled in your chest as you pushed open the door to the emptiness of your home. You had rushed to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun before he left, only to find he had gone already, and the sidewalk outside your building was as vacant as to be expected for this hour of the night.

No matter. You’d wait for him to come back. 

“One more prosecco before he disappears to the bathroom for the rest of the night.”

You cast a glance at the catering table and clicked your tongue against your teeth.

“Half a prosecco,” you concluded, taking a sip from your own glass. 

Joy raised a shapely eyebrow at you. “You know it doesn’t hit until at least twenty minutes after he gets the munchies.”

“True, but he specifically told me he skipped lunch today so it would hit earlier, and he’d have the energy to mingle.”

“Well,” she shrugged, “I guess that’d do it.”

The two of you turned your gazes back to the catering table, where Jungwoo was doing some serious damage to the salmon ceviche tostadas. The glass in his hand was empty, and you watched as he asked for a refill from one of the waitstaff.

“Someone should really stop him,” Joy sighed. “Before we get a repeat of last year.”

“Someone should,” you agreed.

Neither of you made a move.

As far as year-end wrap-up events went, this one wasn’t too bad, even if it was your first at the company. This year, HR had managed to book one of the smaller function rooms at an upscale hotel, with an open bar and hors d’oeuvres menu to match. It was a nice chance to celebrate the year’s achievements, and get to know the other people in the department a little better. Already a year in this place, and you’d be lying if you said you knew the name of every person on your floor.

September to November had flown by in a blur. Recruitment for the company’s graduate program next year had been an intensive few months of screening, interviewing, reviewing, and then interviewing again. As hectic as it had been, the fruits of your team’s efforts had been warmly recognised with smiles and praises from the senior managers and higher-ups you’d had the chance to speak with tonight. 

Traditionally, each department hosted their own event, though from what you gathered, HR and Marketing were the only ones that put in any real effort. While HR liked to keep things classy, Marketing liked to go all out.

“Do you think it’s true that Marketing rented out a yacht this year?” you asked. Surely their budget wasn’t that excessive.

Joy made a face. “God, I hope not. It’s the middle of December. I’d be surprised if the Han River wasn’t all frozen over.”

Winter had come early this year, sinking its cold fingers into November and staking its claim. Yet, there had been no snow, even though it was only a few days out from the holidays. Though it was nice that your clothes stayed relatively dry all day from the lack of precipitation, you couldn’t help but miss the sight of the city covered in a blanket of white softness. 

“There he goes,” Joy said, nudging your arm. You turned to see Jungwoo excuse himself from the conversation, setting down a barely-touched glass on the tablecloth. He made a beeline for the men’s restrooms, or as close to a beeline as he could manage in his current state, face flushed and a little queasy.

It was a good thing the company’s holiday closure started tomorrow.

“Okay, you win. Want to come and get a refill with me?” she asked. “We can say hi to a few of the directors over there.”

The thought of having to network with more seniors, when you had already spent the last hour and a half donning bright smiles and laughing politely at their lacklustre jokes, was not a pleasant one. You knew it would be a good thing for you to go and introduce yourself, but your battery for social interaction had long since been depleted. Perhaps you should’ve taken a page out of Jungwoo’s book.

Still, you flashed Joy a grateful smile. “You go ahead. I might grab some air, actually.”

“Okay,” she replied, eyes warm with understanding. “But make sure you put your coat on. It’s freezing out there.”

She was right, of course. The toasty interior of the function room was a completely different world from the frigid gust of wind that greeted you as soon as you pulled the sliding door open. An upscale hotel needed to have a matching upscale view of the city. You leaned against the balcony railing, blocking out the icy sting of the metal against your hands, and took in the sight of the not-quite-frozen Han River below, and the sparkling Seoul Tower further away on the skyline.

You’d only be out here for a little bit, you told yourself. Just a few minutes, and then you’d head home.

Truthfully, you could have left half an hour ago when your reserves for socialising had just run out, and be within the warm and familiar confines of your own bed right now, doom-scrolling to your heart’s content. But these days, the solitude of your apartment that you had once found comforting had evolved into a loneliness that you’d rather avoid. 

The empty echoes of your own footsteps across the tiled floors didn’t bounce against the walls like deep laughter did.

Absent-mindedly, you thumbed at the pendant sitting at the hollow of your throat. You had turned your jewellery box inside out, almost fully convinced that you had lost the thing entirely until you finally spotted the milky pearl set in white gold, underneath all the other chains. It was gorgeous when you had first opened the velvet box all those years ago, and it still was now, even if you hadn’t seen it for quite some time. Jaehyun always had an eye for beautiful things.

You weren’t the only one who endured a few packed and chaotic months. Johnny’s team had flown out of the country the Wednesday after Joy’s birthday and had been sequestered in New York ever since. Between your swamped schedules and the 14 hour time difference, conversations with Jaehyun were intermittent at best, and sparse and uncoordinated at worst. Sometimes he’d message with silly little things, like the time he sent you a picture of a doll sitting in the window of an antique shop.

this reminded me of you, the accompanying text had said.

He was due back soon, and there was still much left to be said, but above all, you only hoped that he was well, and that the New York winter was much more forgiving than it was here at home.

The cloudy wisps of air formed by your breath floated upwards before they dissipated into the night sky. No wonder the balcony was empty — who would want to be out here when there were mozzarella stuffed mushrooms and central heating on the other side of the glass?

You heard the doors slide open behind you as someone else equally as crazy decided to step out into the cold. Just as well. It was time for you to head back anyways. You turned to make your way inside, only to freeze in your tracks.

“They told me I’d find you out here. You really know how to pick a spot, huh?”

A soft gasp left your mouth.

“Jaehyun?”

He gave you a smile, your favourite smile, where his dimples were only just visible, and there was the hint of a pout to the shape of his lips. He was here, and he was in front of you, looking at you like you were the most wonderful thing in the world that he would ever have the good fortune of knowing. Your chest swelled almost painfully at the sight of him.

“When did you get back? How did you even get in here?”

“We landed in Incheon earlier this afternoon. I had to pay the door guy outside a hundred bucks for him to let me in.”

Your eyes widened. “He can’t make you do that!”

“Just kidding,” Jaehyun chuckled. “I only had to show him my company ID.”

He walked over to where you stood by the railing and rested his arms against the metal. His profile was sharp against the darkness of the night sky, and you took a moment to study the details while he took in the view. 

“Are you tired?” you asked. “It can’t be easy adjusting to the time difference.”

“A little,” he admitted. The bags under his eyes were dark and purple now that you could see his face up close. He must have been exhausted. Nobody ever slept well on long haul flights. “You should see Johnny though. He would have come tonight, but jet lag is seriously kicking his ass.”

You shared a laugh, traces of your breaths mingling in the air. Beside him, you settled back into your original spot, mirroring the way he leaned against the metal railing. Jaehyun was close, but not too close, your elbows only a few centimetres apart. A mellow silence settled over the balcony as you gazed out at the river, watching the never-ending stream of cars as they circled the waterfront. 

With even this, you were content. His mere presence next to you was a remedy in itself, regardless of the words shared or touches exchanged. You felt more at home in this moment now than you had in over 3 months.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, still gazing out into the distance. The gravity in his voice hinted at circumstances beyond the recent season he had spent on the other side of the world. And yet, he had said it so simply, as if the words were an immovable truth that would withstand the corrosion of time.

“I’ve missed you too,” you replied.

Maybe it was just that simple, because it was the truth. The nights weathered away in your own apartment were only lonely because there had been an absence of him, an absence that was known to you, even if you had not felt it for many years.

He turned to you, taking in a shaky breath. “I should never have let you go.”

“Oh, Jaehyun—”

“I was young, and foolish, and I thought I knew what I wanted. And I had you, but I thought I wanted more, because I wanted everything. I wanted the whole damn world.”

Something sharp pricked behind your eyes as you listened to the honesty pouring out of him.

“And then I lost you, and it was—god, it was… like someone had sucked all the colour out of my life. And I had no one to blame, because I was the one who did that to myself. To us.”

It was so hard to not notice the pain etched into his beautiful features. The tight set of his jaw. The redness that rimmed his eyes. Your fingers ached to reach over and smooth out the crease between his brows.

“There were so many things I could have done to make things right between us again. Even if you wouldn’t have me back. But my pride, and my ego… I did nothing—”

“You can’t pin it all on yourself, Jaehyun,” you said, shaking your head. “I had no idea what I wanted. And even when I did, I never acted—I never stood up for myself. I could’ve fought for us, but I didn’t. I just accepted everything. Hell, I never even told you how I felt.”

You flashed him a watery smile. “We needed the time away from each other, don’t you think?” 

There was a moment where the two of you simply stared at each other. A hurricane of repressed emotions swirled in your chest, finally breaking the surface five years on. Jaehyun must have felt the same, reliving all those memories now. You could see it on his face.

Youth was so beautiful, and precious — even the heartbreak, and all the other foolish things that came along with it. 

“I let you go once, and maybe that was meant to happen.” He took a step closer. “But we’re not dumb teenagers anymore. I’m not… I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

His eyes locked on yours as he gazed at you with reverence. “Don’t you still feel the same? Even after all these years?”

I do, you wanted to say. 

You would have too, if it weren’t for the small speck of white that landed in Jaehyun’s dark hair. It was visible for only a few seconds before melting away. You looked up and sure enough, the night sky was dotted with white.

“First snow,” you breathed, watching as the snowflakes fell from the sky. “Do you know what that means?”

Jaehyun gave you a small shake of his head. Of course. He never believed in superstitions.

You reached for his hand, feeling his fingers respond to yours immediately. He was so warm, and his touch breathed life back into your frozen body.

“If you see the first snow with someone you love, it means that your love will be true and long-lasting.”

A few seconds passed as he took in your words, trying to make sense of them.

“You… love me?”

“I do,” you admitted. A teardrop finally spilled out from your waterline, leaving behind a wet track on your cheek that stung in the cold. “Even when I thought I hated you, deep down, I think I still loved you.”

One of his hands came up to wipe away the trail of moisture from the escaped tear. The action sent a shiver through your entire body.

“I never stopped loving you,” he confessed softly, stroking your cheek. You felt it then, that deep, aching feeling that had threaded itself into the very marrow of your bones. 

Longing. You longed for his presence, his smile, his touch. You longed to hold his heart in your hands again, and give him yours in exchange. You had missed him more than you could bear, and here he was, telling you his heart was where it had always been, sitting in the centre of your palm. 

Perfect moments didn’t exist, but damn did this one come close.

“Come here,” Jaehyun whispered, pulling you into him. 

His mouth was just as sweet as you remembered. His lips were a little rougher, slightly chapped from the cold. His kiss was slow and patient, taking his time to explore the shape of your mouth and mould to it again. You felt his smile, the slight tension in his bottom lip giving him away, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, a quiet giggle bubbling in your chest before escaping through your lips. 

“I really fucking missed you,” you mumbled against his mouth, another giggle accompanying the words. “You kissed me and then you were on a plane to the other side of the world.” 

“I told you I’d see you when I was back, didn’t I?” he reminded, giving your waist a small squeeze. “And for the record, you kissed me. Not that it matters.”

You swatted a hand against his chest. “I see you still care too much about technicalities.”

Jaehyun only laughed, that deep and familiar sound you had craved to hear for the last 3 months. He pulled your hands into his warm ones, and pressed his lips to your knuckles. 

“Your hands are cold,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around yours. 

“Well, I was about to head back inside when you found me. It’s nice and toasty in there.”

“Do you want to go in now?”

You looped your arms around his neck and buried your head into the crook of it. “Let’s just stay out here for a little bit longer,” you said, words muffled by the fabric of his coat. “You always run hot in the colder months anyways. Enough to keep me warm.”

He hummed in agreement, holding you flush against him as the snow fell around you. In his arms, you were the most at ease you had been in years, and the thought was almost enough to bring a fresh new wave of moisture to your eyes. 

“What is that—something’s digging in,” he suddenly said, pulling away from you. His eyes landed on the pendant that had slipped out from underneath the lapels of your coat. Wordlessly, he reached for it, running his thumb across the pale pearl that hung from your neck. 

“You kept this?” 

“Of course,” you answered. “You kept yours.”

He smiled, a big one, dimples marking his cheeks. “Of course,” he repeated. 

“We’re lucky, aren’t we? To have found each other again after all this time?”

Jaehyun’s reply took the form of another sweet and unhurried kiss. It warmed you from the inside out, all the way down to the tips of your toes.

“So we’re really doing this, right?” he asked. “We’re giving us a second chance?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you said all that earlier just for shits and giggles?”

“Of course not,” he chuckled, squeezing your sides again. “I just wanted to make sure. I think I might lose faith in the world if you tell me you don’t want to be with me.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” you reassured. The snow was sticking to his hair, and you took a second to run your hands through it, brushing off the half-melted pieces. His eyes fondly followed your every movement.

“Good, because I plan on keeping you for a long time.”

You returned inside shortly after. The snow had picked up and it was clear that you couldn’t stay out for much longer (unless you wanted hypothermia, which neither of you did). The function hall was much emptier now than it had been when you stepped out, and of the remaining faces, none of them were familiar. 

A quick glance at your phone showed a few unread messages from Joy. 

joy [08:32 pm]: hey, had to leave, doyoung’s still working tomorrow so it’s an early night for me joy [08:33 pm]: hope you and jaehyun work things out joy [08:33 pm]: i’m rooting for you guys!!

joy [08:37 pm]: also can you see if jungwoo is okay joy [08:38 pm]: i don’t think he’s come out yet

“Can I ask a favour, just before we go?”

Jaehyun smiled back at you sweetly, devotion written in his eyes. “Anything.”

“Pop into the men’s room and check if Jungwoo’s still alive?”

Life was a funny thing. 

“There are so few things in life that are guaranteed. Death, for one, and taxes, for another. Sorry if that was a bit dark and killed the mood. You can laugh, by the way. But I think everyone here would agree, neither of those two are all that conducive to happiness.”

Roundabout. 

“So when the girl you’ve been chasing, for what feels like an eternity, finally gives you a second chance, you absolutely cannot take it for granted. You grab onto that chance with both hands, and even your teeth if you have to. It’s no guarantee for happiness, but it’s your best bet.”

Unpredictable. 

“I’m not a God-fearing man, but I’m a God-believing man. I thank God everyday for bringing such a magnificent woman into my life.”

He raised his glass. 

“Joy, you make me the happiest person in the world, and I can’t wait to be married to you.”

The crowd broke into warm applause as Doyoung finished off his impromptu speech by planting a kiss on his bride-to-be.

“He’s so good at talking,” you mused, wrapping your arm around Jaehyun’s. “If that’s his toast for this, I wonder what his vows will be like.”

A year ago, you would never have believed that you’d be attending your co-worker’s engagement party, much less with your ex-boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years. Spring had well and truly arrived, and with it came promises of love and new beginnings. The last rays of the April afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of the riverside art centre. The venue was gorgeous, floating on the edge of the river with unobstructed views of the skyline and where it met the water — as always, Joy knew how to pick a spot.

“I didn’t know she rejected him before they got together. He must have really liked her.”

Jaehyun gave you a crooked smile. “Four years of university, and he never gave up. Even when she started dating that blockhead from liberal arts.”

“I bet he would’ve felt like the luckiest guy in the world when she finally said yes to a date,” you said, watching as the happy couple shared a moment, giggling about something nobody else was privy to. Jaehyun followed your gaze and made a small noise of agreement.

“Not as lucky as I am to have found you again.”

He ran his thumb across your knuckles. You could’ve sworn there was stardust sprinkled into those pretty brown eyes of his.

Life was a funny thing, for sure. It had a funny way of bringing back things you once thought you had lost forever. You knew now that you had to seize them before they passed by. Who knew if they’d ever turn up again?

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Jungwoo set his glass down on the table with a loud thunk, lightly startling you.

“I’m right here. You guys know that, right? I am right in front of you.”

A sheepish smile was thrown his way. “Sorry.” You patted his hand once, softly. “Your time will come, I’m sure of it,” you reassured. “How did the date with the KU Business girl go?”

“I flaked,” Jungwoo said simply.

“No! Why?”

He sighed. “Blind dates are really not my thing. It’s too awkward. And it feels so superficial. Like, what if you have nothing in common, or there’s no physical attraction, or—” 

Jungwoo paused, cutting himself off. “Actually, I’m not talking about this with you people. I’m going to get another drink.” With that, he turned and headed straight for the cocktail bar. You and Jaehyun gazed at him from behind as he walked off.

“I’m gonna be babysitting him again tonight, aren’t I?” Jaehyun asked, the question directed at nobody in particular.

“People are going to start wondering if you’re dating me or him.”

His mouth curled into a smirk. “Should I give them a reminder?”

“My boss is standing right over there, so no.”

Junmyeon and Irene were still going steady, to your surprise. You’d probably be seeing more and more of him, since Joy and the rest of the Parks genuinely treated Irene like one of their own. The thought wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but not awful either. Maybe you were warming up to him.

“Also, you should probably be careful about who you call blockhead,” you said to Jaehyun, holding back a smile.

He fixed you with a suspicious stare. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” you trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his head. The smile broke through, your cheeks lifting as you tried to keep the laughter from coming out. He, on the other hand, was thoroughly unimpressed.

“You should really watch your mouth,” he said lowly, though he was smiling. There was a look in his eyes that sent a jolt straight to the pit of your stomach.

“Or what?”

His hands were all over you before you even made it through the door.

“My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy girlfriend,” he mumbled, peppering your neck with kisses between each adjective. The keypad finally beeped and you pushed down on the handle, letting the door swing open as you pulled him in by the collar.

“Stop talking and just kiss me,” you sighed, dragging his face back up to yours. He was all too eager to comply, mouth slotting over yours with practised ease. His tongue brushed along yours in the way he knew you liked, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure. Fire licked at your insides as he drew a light moan from you.

Four months in, the second time around, and everything with Jaehyun was still electrifying.  

Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally succeeding with undoing the top one after a few tries. Hands came up around the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto his kitchen countertop. The marble was cool to the touch, and you felt it through the silk of your dress, a soft gasp of surprise flying from your mouth into his awaiting one.

“Been wanting to do this all day, ever since you put this thing on,” Jaehyun rasped. The heat of his body radiated into you from where he stood between your parted legs. He was so warm up against you, and he smelled so good, you were positively light-headed with desire.

His mouth ghosted over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “You look so fucking good,” he said, teeth gently grazing the skin of your neck. “My pretty girl.” The quick press of his hips into yours pulled another moan out of you, and you braced a hand against the marble countertop.

Your fingers knocked against the edge of something sharp and sent it tumbling to the floor, where it landed with a heavier thud than you were expecting.

“What was that?” you forced out in between gasps. Jaehyun’s teeth nipped at your collarbone, showing no signs of letting up. “Wait, Jae, something fell on the floor.”

You had smashed a mug in your apartment in the midst of it once. Better safe than sorry.

Reluctantly, Jaehyun detached himself from you and bent down to retrieve the fallen item. He was breathing hard as he picked up a thick, padded envelope, and flipped it over to read the details.

“Photos,” he finally managed, tossing the package back onto the counter. “We can look at them later.”

His mouth was on you again, working at the spot between your neck and shoulder that always had your knees weak and toes curling. 

“Wait,” you giggled, “my film photos? I want to see.” He had sent the camera off almost two weeks ago, and you had been (im)patiently waiting for the developed pictures to be sent back. 

Jaehyun looked up at you with hooded eyes. “Really? You want to look at them now?”

You nodded. 

A beat passed before his face broke into a lazy smile. 

“Okay,” he chuckled softly, reaching for the envelope again. 

There was a good stack in there. The ones on top were more recent, with a few shots from his birthday that had recently passed. You had taken him ice skating at the outdoor rink atop Namsan Mountain. The twinkling lights that hung from the trees surrounding the rink were still beautiful, even through photos. Jaehyun was good at so many things that it was unfair — how could he be so talented and have a face like that? — but on that day, you discovered that ice skating was not one of his strengths, and the bruises on his tailbone could attest to that. 

“The colouring on these is really nice,” you murmured, flicking through the photos.

He hummed. “They are. This place doesn’t over-saturate the images, which is why I like them.”

A few more pictures from Christmas, where the two of you had set up a pillow fort — it had always been a childhood dream of yours — and stayed in watching movies for three whole days because it was too cold to do anything that required leaving the house. Funnily enough though, you had spent New Year’s Eve out in the cold with a few thousand others, waiting for the annual fireworks. There were a few shots of those as well. 

You neared the bottom of the stack, recognising the blur of colours that formed the crowd of the jazz festival from last year.

“All of these are out of focus,” you complained, a pout adorning your lips. The shots of the stage, of the artists, even the one of Jaehyun and the cute face he made trying to fit the burger in his mouth. Only the two pictures of you were crisply defined, because he had taken them. 

You flipped to the last photo. It was the one you took at the end of the show, during the closing bars of Lauv’s set. Miraculously, this one was in focus. You could see the press of your cheek against Jaehyun’s, and the slight surprise in his eyes as you had clicked the shutter. Lauv was nowhere to be seen, but maybe a clear shot of him as well would have been asking for too much. 

“Can I say something cheesy?” Jaehyun asked softly. 

“You’ll say it anyway.”

“I really wanted to kiss you. On this day.”

Strange, that it was these words which brought heat to your cheeks. Surely there were other things that would be more appropriate to blush about, instead of a months-late admission that was degrees more innocent than your current situation, where Jaehyun’s shirt was half undone, and the fabric of your dress was bunched up around your hips. 

“I wanted to kiss you right there, in the crowd. And then I wanted to kiss you again, here, when you made that stupid ramen joke. And when you had that chilli flake stuck on the corner of your mouth.”

You set the last photo down on the counter and turned back to Jaehyun, who was still standing between your knees. 

“And how about now?” you asked, the corners of your mouth lifting in a teasing smile. 

He cradled your chin, tilting your face towards his, and let the pad of his thumb brush over the swell of your bottom lip. 

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

The crescent moon was high and luminescent in the sky when you caught your breath again, the last few waves of euphoria ebbing away through your body. Jaehyun always indulged you.

Maybe a little too much. 

You turned to him, nestling your face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of soap and his skin. A finger lazily traced over the ridges of his stomach. 

“That tickles,” he mumbled into your hair. It must’ve still been damp from the shower, but he didn’t seem to mind. Fatigue was already tugging away at him. 

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked softly, looking up at him. 

He shook his head, just slightly. “I like knowing you’re there.”

You resumed your movements, but it was only a few seconds before Jaehyun was shifting, soft laughs filling the intimate space of his bedroom.  

“That really does tickle,” he said, smile threaded into his voice. One of his hands reached for yours, pulling it up to rest against his chest. The gentle press of his lips on your forehead was a delicate thing. 

You fell asleep like that, feeling the steady beat of his heart, quiet and sure beneath your fingertips. It was warm in his hold, and safe. There was no other home you needed to know.

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

my bad (paige x reader)

summary: paige accidentally hits you with a basketball and she feels bad so tries to make it up to you.

content warnings: none!

requested by: anon 💗

It was a warm summers evening in Storrs and there was nothing you and your roommate enjoyed more than ending your day with frozen yogurt.

You had walked to the dessert shop on campus, excited for your sweet treats but there was an unusually long line for this time off the evening. There was a group of girls outside of the shop and as you got closer, you recognised them as the womens basketball team.

There was six of them and all of their faces were familiar. Paige Bueckers, Azzi Fudd, Ice Brady, KK Arnold and two freshmen that, admittedly you didn’t know the names of. They had a ball in tow that they were bouncing and throwing to one another and every now and then, the ball would be dropped and it would roll away and one of them would scramble after it. You giggle as you watch the scene unfold, KK shoving herself into Paige, playfully trying steal the ball from her.

The team was somewhat famous on and off campus. They were the most successful womens basketball program in the nation with the longest winning streaks in college basketball, period. And more recently, the current team had shot to fame on social media and you could see why. Tall, muscular, athletic. The appeal was obvious.

You had been to a few games over your years at UConn and often saw the girls around campus and they seemed nice enough so you had no problem with how boisterous they were being while you waited in line.

“Be honest. Smash or pass?” Your Khloe asks you, catching your gaze focused on the athletes.

“Which one?” You ask back.

“I don’t know, any…the blondie?” She says pointing to Paige and you slap her hand down not wanting them to see her point.

“I don’t know.” You say but you do know and your roommate does too.

“Yes you do. That’s your type all over.” She teases and she’s right. That was your type. Tall, blonde, light eyes, athletic, there was no denying Paige Bueckers was your type.

“Whatever.”

“So…smash or pass?”

“Smash.” You say and your roommate grins but before can even roll your eyes in response, you literally get smashed, right in the face.

You’re thrown off balance and stumble back at the impact before you steady yourself.

“Paige!”

Your eyes are screwed shut as a sharp, stinging sensation spreads over your left cheek, that hurt like a bitch.

“Oh my God! My bad ma, I’m so sorry.” You feel two hands land on your shoulders and when you open your eyes, it takes a second for your vision to clear. When it does, you’re met with Paige, inches away from you, hands on your shoulders, a sorry look on her face.

“Does it hurt?” She asks, bringing her hand up to your face to angle it so she can get a better look at her handy work. Your cheek felt like it was on fire, it was definitely red as hell right now.

Your head spun and you wasn’t sure whether it was because of the unexpected impact or because of the beautiful, blue eyed girl with her hand on your face.

“A little.” You squeak out.

“I am so sorry, I feel so bad. You should ice it. I should get you ice. Where can I get ice? Someone get some ice!” Paige rambles out and you laugh at her frenzied words.

“It’s OK. I’ll survive.” You reassure her and she seems to calm down.

“Your frozen yogurt is on me.” She tell you and you shake your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I do. I just threw a ball in your face.” She chuckles, finally dropping her hands from your face and shoulder.

“Well, when you put it like that...” You respond, rubbing your cheek in hopes to defuse the pain.

The line moved quick and soon, Paige and her friends were at the counter making their orders and you were up next. Paige insisted on standing beside you until you had ordered, even when her friends went to sit at a table, just so she could keep her promise and pay for you.

“Could we also get a bag of ice for the pretty lady?” Paige interjects after you give your order, “I accidentally smacked her face with my ball.” She over explains and once again brings her hands up to turn your face to the server so he can see the mark, “Look.” She says but the guy behind the counter looks like he couldn’t care less. “I don’t need ice, it’s fine.” You insist and he gets on, adding your chosen toppings to your frozen yogurt.

You’re thankful for your red cheek because the way Paiges slender, slightly calloused fingers held your face so gently and the use of the pet name pretty lady made you blush, hard. You had been single for longer than you’d like to admit so at this point you were touch starved and Paige was feeding you.

She had already started eating her frozen yogurt and as you glanced up at her to thank her for paying, you notice a blob of it on her cheek.

“Um-you- you kinda have…” You point at her face, “some yogurt right here.”

You hate to admit it but you’re mesmerised by the way she flicks out her tongue and wiggles it, trying to swipe the yogurt away.

“It’s still there.” You inform her and she dips her head down, more to your level, “Do you mind?”

Does this girl seriously want me to wipe her face? You thought to yourself.

“Come on, I don’t bite.” She chuckles so you take your finger and wipe the yogurt away, “There.” You say, her face now clean and her next movement makes you raise your brows, taken aback. Her mouth is open, tongue poking out ever so slightly, she wants to lick the yogurt off your finger.

“Seriously?” You ask shocked at her brazen attitude, “You don’t know where my fingers have been.”

“I can only dream.” She smirks and takes it upon herself to guide your finger to her mouth, licking it clean.

“You’re so nasty.” You playfully shove her shoulder.

“A nasty girl who pays for your yogurt.” She says taking your order from the server and handing it to you.

“For real, thank you.” You smile genuinely.

“For real, I’m sorry.” She replies and you tell her it’s fine before turning to leave the store, Khloe waiting for you by the door.

“You’re not sitting in?” Paige asks making you turn around to face her again.

“No, we have…a spot.” You say, referring to yours and Khloes favourite place to eat on campus.

“Ohh, a spot?”

“Mhm.” You nod, taking a spoon full of frozen yogurt into your mouth.

“Where is this spot?”

“I’m gatekeeping.” You tease and Paige pouts exaggeratedly, “Maybe I’ll show you one time.” You offer not actually knowing why you said that and you immediately cringe.

But Paige agrees, “Deal.” She says, holding out her hand for you shake and you do. For someone you only really met a few minutes ago, her hands have been on you quite a bit.

You begin walking to Khloe and by the grin on her face, you know what the topic of conversation will be this evening.

“Wait, how can I reach you?” Paige calls after you, “If it’s meant to be, it will be.” You call back, turning your head to look at the girl one last time.

“I don’t even know your name!”

You shout out your first and last name as you walk out of the shop.

“Did blondie just suck your finger?!” Khloe whisper screams once the door closes behind you.

You laugh, “It was more of a lick.” You say matter of factly.

“But her finger was in your mouth?”

“Yes.”

“Wow…slutting it up in the Fro-Yo shop. That’s the most action you’ve got all semester.” Khloe jokes.

“Alrighttt, not to much on me and my sex life. I’m going through a drought.” You defend yourself.

“Well, from where I was standing, it’s due to get pretty wet.”

“Shut up!”

You and Khloe head to your favourite spot and eat your frozen yogurt like you did most nights. Side by side on the grass, watching the sunset.

Your phone pings from in your pocket and you pull it out seeing a notification from Instagram.

paigebueckers started following you.

Another notification came through almost instantly.

paigebueckers: its meant to be

“Damn, she’s quick.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: please let me know if you have any requests, id be happy to do them! 💋

[wetblanket7]

touya todoroki headcanons bc im in love with this man ᯓᡣ𐭩

have i finished watching mha? no. does that stop me from writing about dabi? no <3

──── ᡣ𐭩 ─────────────────

touya todoroki who once decided to dye his hair red and immediately regretted it. he dyed it black again after enji took thousands of photos of him

touya todoroki who askes you to name 5 songs after he saw you wearing band tshirt

touya todoroki who tells his siblings they’re adopted or were found in the trash

touya todoroki who always goes to fuyumi for love advice bc he’s a total loser

touya todoroki who loves underground midwest emo bands and thinks his music taste is superior (its not)

touya todoroki who’s still unemployed and lives with his parents

touya todoroki who told you that he’s in lesbians with you

touya todoroki who always cheats when they’re having a family game night

touya todoroki who sags his pants

touya todoroki who only wears beat up converse and dr martens (i can also see him having new rocks)

touya todoroki who plays bass

touya todoroki who pierced his nose himself after rei told him he can’t has piercings

touya todoroki who often skateboards with keigo

touya todoroki who plays every male manipulator game with his online friends (mostly with shiggy tho)

touya todoroki who definitely uses dabi as his nickname (he thinks he’s soo cool)

touya todoroki who’s a momma’s boy

touya todoroki who is a spit image of enji

touya todoroki who’s the most stereotypical male manipulator ever

touya todoroki who definitely had an opium phase (keigo uses his photos form that era to blackmail him lmao)

touya todoroki who manspreads all the time (he literally can’t seat normally)

touya todoroki who never saw a brush

touya todoroki who has minecraft server with his siblings

touya todoroki who listens to lil peep

touya todoroki who uses tiktok brainrot with natsuo daily (rei is tired of them)

touya todoroki who steals rei’s eye pencil

touya todoroki who’s your passanger princess

touya todoroki who wears his clothes as long as they pass the sniff test

touya todoroki who knows his hogwart house, greek god parent, mbti, birth chart and which type of bread he is

touya todoroki who gets offended if you don’t answer his tiktoks but won’t answer yours for weeks

touya todoroki who never wears matching socks

touya todoroki who can’t solve math problems for shit but will explain the entire plot of evangelion to you

touya todoroki who dated one or two girls before you and they both dumped him

touya todoroki who’s love language is annoying everyone around him

touya todoroki who consumed every media you ever mentioned

touya todoroki who wears every single bracelet fuyumi, natsuo and shoto made for him

touya todoroki who gives you flowers he stole from rei’s garden

touya todoroki who will come up to you and give you a rock bc it reminds him of you

touya todoroki who’s your trained photographer <3

──── ᡣ𐭩 ─────────────────

this is probably very ooc but im projecting. i need a man like him so bad its not even funny anymore

and hes very scott pilgrim/rodrick heffley coded. watch him fight your seven evil exes and cover baby for you <3

sorry for any mistakes my god why is posting so stressful lmao i literally feel like i made so many grammar mistakes 🔥🔥

btw if you know downtown mtv then theres this one scene where alex takes serena’s photos at the graveyard this is literally you and touya frfr

[redvexillum]

OH. MY. STARS. 🌠 This was a wild ride. Holy Smoly. I have words (but like since when do I don't?)

This story took my breath away and spun me right into the underworld of FEELS. It’s like I’m caught in a maelstrom of Alastor’s intense, electrifying allure and the reader's total deer-in-the-headlights horror (or is it excitement?) – I can’t decide which is more delicious! The agonized screams from outside the bar? Perfect setup! Alastor’s nonchalant, scheming aura just simmering under the surface, while he eyes the reader like they’re the last morsel in Hell's buffet… I’m SCREAMING! 😱💀

And let’s talk about that tension. The way Alastor slips out of the shadows, chin barely brushing the reader’s shoulder – my heart almost stopped right there! How does he manage to be so simultaneously terrifying and charming?! And then, BAM, he pulls this innocent “Oh, but wouldn’t you rather avoid the rain?” bit with a sly invitation to his own personal bayou – a setup that is, obviously, a one-way ticket to more trouble than anyone should be able to handle.

AND CHARLIE!!! Sweeping in with that precious encouragement, giving Alastor the perfect excuse to lure the reader in deeper! You just know there’s no escaping his plans once you’re in that swampy paradise of his, especially when he starts calling the reader "Doe." I AM MELTING. 🥵

And those details! The subtle scent cues driving him wild, the way he smells her not-fear but something else entirely—I practically melted with every little hint of his inner struggle not to just devour her. It’s honestly unhinged how much this story plays with both their senses, building tension with every brush of his fingers and shift of his voice into static. His smugness over her denial? Dead. It’s so obvious how hard he’s trying to maintain control, just barely, and that’s exactly why we’re HERE for this devilishly slow burn. 😩🔥

Can we talk about that moment when she tries to deny her attraction, and he just—loses that grin? The way the tentacles (!!!) come into play and his claws trace her skin? It’s so well-paced, we’re practically there with her, barely able to breathe, wanting to keep denying everything while knowing it’s utterly useless. He’s so unrelenting, towering over her, taking her senses one by one, making her every nerve scream. And then that final assault on her last defenses… that kiss, the teasing, the tension and her inevitable fall… I was actually a puddle. 😭💖

OOF AND THEN THE way he teases and denies, and that touch of magic adding layers upon layers to the scene—it's like he’s literally weaving himself into every fibre of their being. Not only are the details here tantalizing, but they are so immersive I could feel each shiver, each restraint, each bit of delicious torment. And don't even get me started on the language in this; it’s positively sinful. Every line had me on edge.

And THAT ending? The fact that after all that pleasure, all that surrender, the reader is just beginning to realize the depth of their bond to Alastor… that they’re now forever his? I am LIVING for it! Pure obsession.

Alastor x FReader.

CW: angst, P in V sex, tentacles, biting, blood, dominance (Alastor), submission (Reader), ropes, bondage, punishment, spanking, breath play, sensory play, sensory deprivation, hard sex, multiple orgasms, sensory overload, edging overstimulation, crying, friction burn from ropes. (Small amount of breeding kink if you squint) (Use of a noose, but not in the way you think, Alastor's basically a sassy bitch).

(+ aftercare for 'reader').

Word Count: 9240.

Forever Bound.

The agonised screams as acid rain hits the sizzling flesh of the sinners caught in the raging storm outside, the pleasant burn of full-bodied rye as it slides smoothly down his throat, the smell of acrid tobacco drifting across the bar from Husk’s filthy habit, and the sight of Angel Dust once again trying to tease and sexually harass the aforementioned bartender.

All of these things were a vague awareness for Alastor as he idly drums his claws on the split woodgrain of the conjured drinking booth he sat at for privacy, eyeing you from across the room with as much subtlety as a bull in a China shop.

You piqued his interest, always so avoidant of him, except for when there was no escape, then you were utterly caustic with him. Alastor found this to be unusual behaviour, you were so affable with the others... skittish, but affable... so why did he always seem to rub you the wrong way, granted he was a powerful overlord, but he’d seen you speak with Rosie just fine.

Cute, was one word he’d often thought of when he enjoyed riling you up, your fuzz getting even fuzzier, especially your tail, oh he so adored teasing you, your look of utter fury despite being so very small, and your tail, oh your tail... his own tail was easily hidden away, secreted from the others, but your tail was much too magnificent for that, long, flat, wide, with a delightful curl at the end, and a divine reddish colour.

It was rather striking, Alastor smiled to himself as he contemplated and schemed about how best to invade your personal space today, purely to enjoy the sight of your tail frizzing up and eyes dart about while you tried to find an exit, he wondered if you would try to literally climb to get away from him this time, just like the other day when you'd scrambled up the banister of the main staircase, oh that had been most entertaining.

As he stewed in his scheming he listened to your laughter as Vaggie explained how she and Charlie had gone to the store yesterday only to meet a sinner who had fallen face first into the bag of rice they had been toting once they saw the Princess of Hell doing a regular grocery shop, Vaggie had been beside herself in tears of laughter while the ‘kind’ Charlie had helped the ‘poor’ sinner out, she had even bought his groceries for him.

Alastor swirled his rye a bit before knocking back the rest of the drink with a satisfied crackle of static, glass thudding back down on the table, his eyes still affixed to you and the way your cherub like cheeks looked adorable when you smiled... that sight alone was what forced him to act, his own smile curling higher, perhaps it was a little too much rye that forced his hand, but he wouldn’t regret his next actions if it got him what he needed from you.

Your attention soul.

Drawing on the wispy feeling of his umbrakinesis he traverses through the shadows to the unoccupied space behind you, reforming silently before bending forward so his chin hovers over your shoulder, getting as close as possible without actually touching you, mouth by your ear, your tail almost touching his pinstripe coat.

“What a delightful afternoon we’re having wouldn’t you agree Dear?” Watching in utter delight as you react to his startling presence.

Jumping in fright and almost colliding with his chin you yelp in shock; you had spied Alastor earlier but had been confident he was too busy with his jazz and rye to bother you this afternoon and had deemed it safe to stand around socialising.

You wince as you taste the sharp metallic tang of blood from biting your tongue, “I’ll be going out Vaggie,” you say nonchalantly, whilst endeavouring to ignore the demon who seems to always send a prickly electrical current through your entire nervous system whenever he comes into close proximity with you.

“Now Dear, I don’t think you would enjoy a stroll out in the acid rain right now. Perhaps, if you’d like an outdoors experience you would be thrilled to accompany my good self for a stroll, as you may be aware I do have a rather authentic bayou in my private quarters, the perfect indoor, outdoors escapade, with none of the risk of treacherous pesky weather patterns.” Alastor gestures in the direction of the lobby staircase, trying for an endearing smile.

You start to shake your head, mouth opening to politely refuse the offer, your heart racing as your nervous nature screams at you, ‘DANGER’. However, before you have the chance to decline, Charlie’s jubilant voice interrupts.

“What a wonderful idea Alastor, this is sooo awesome, oh my goodness, well done for reaching out and making an effort to be involved, I know you’ve both had your differences, and this is perfect! I think it would be excellent for the both of you to get to know one and other, oh well done Alastor, I know you don’t usually like getting involved in our redemption activities, I’m so proud of you.”

Charlie then looks at you, with those big hopeful eyes, as Alastor's grin freezes, but he doesn’t argue with Charlie, his own intentions being far less than innocent, but he refuses to let anyone know the inner workings of his mind, he almost laughs as he hears a loud scream from the city below, one more sinner clearly having reached their demise in the biting rain.

You almost recoil, your whole-body vibrating, screaming at you to escape... your instincts get ignored inevitably, the distinct scent of Alastor drifting over you, the rye on his breath, his woodsmoke, iron and musky smell fragrant and intoxicating.

You stay rooted to the spot, Charlie is technically in charge of the rehabilitation process, so if you refuse her ‘exercises’, you might get kicked out... if not by her, then the facility manager (Alastor) who is waiting with a shark like grin for your answer might take it upon himself to eject you... right out into the acid pouring outside, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, as you see no alternative solutions.

With a pained smile you make eye contact with Alastor, your stomach swooping, your heart palpitating, “that would be lovely, thank you for the offer,” you say through gritted teeth acquiescing to the veiled demand, you are very tempted to sprint out into the acid rain instead of being alone with the Radio Demon... being the subject of his undivided attention.

“Oh Darling, of course, think nothing of it, allow me to escort you.” Alastor holds his arm out like a gentleman, a shiver of fear prickles up your spine in response.

To Charlie’s utter exhilaration, Alastor takes your hand and threads your arm through his and marches you off towards the stairwell, your legs feel like jelly, but his stride is even, so you scramble to keep up.

You take one last desperate beseeching look at Vaggie over your shoulder, and she gives you a sympathetic shrug as Charlie practically buzzes in excitement at her side.

Alastor natters for the whole trip to the upper floors, leading you to your doom his bedroom, as you numbly look at anything but him, paying attention to the abundance of the apple decor around the hotel, anxiety spiking at an all-time high, not listening to a word he says as your mind races with potential escape plans, (your tail frizzing up from his static energy), which he notices delightedly.

You don’t notice the crackle of his radio tone cutting out briefly after he says your name for the fifth time as he tries to garner your attention, this time he says it accompanied by a tap on your nose, which makes you blink rapidly, flinching as your eyes and mind come back into focus.

His sharp grin screams peril and you react defensively, “What?” You ask rudely, annoyed at your lack of recourse.

“Oh, Dearest you are hilarious,” he mocks without bothering to repeat himself, annoying you even more. If it was so important to disturb your clearly distant thoughts, surely it should be important enough to enlighten you once your attention was actually directed at him.

You give him an impatient, unimpressed look, and he snickers again.

“We’ve arrived of course, silly Doe.”

You shake your head to clear it again, acutely aware that he had called you a ‘doe’, apt really considering you’re part squirrel, but you felt funny with the way he had uttered it, the sound full of implications, you’re also very aware he’s a buck, which seemed to be the whole reason he brought up your animalistic status, choosing to ignore the bait and not wanting to risk his wrath currently, in such an isolated situation, you nod at him.

He ushers you inside, still feeling rather dazed you take in the peculiar sight of his room, he hadn't been lying, the room certainly appeared how described previously, half bedroom, with sparse furniture, the other half of the room an extensive bayou.

Your stomach dropped; it would be very easy to hide your body in there. You idly wonder how many bodies he had hidden away in there, and just how vast it might be... is it some sort of pocket dimension...

He looks down at you observing every minute detail of your reaction, wanting to reach out and touch your fluffy tail, instead his fingers snap several times in front of your face, disturbing you from wandering thoughts yet again, the warmth of this area of the room feeling even warmer in the intimacy of being alone in his bedroom with such a beautiful little doe, one that occupies his thoughts persistently... confusingly.

“My Dear, are you quite alright.” Alastor makes a show of checking your temperature with the back of his hand, his craving to touch you overriding all other senses and you jump away from him yet again, feeling annoyed at your reaction, but he doesn’t let it show.

You nod, as he laughs at you, “I’m fine,” you don’t back down, wanting to get this over with as fast and painlessly as possible.

So, despite your protesting body, you seize his arm and start trying to haul him off into the treeline.

It did smell rather fresh and aromatic in here, it was quite pleasant, not that you’d admit it to him.

Alastor hums amused but elated, deliberately setting a slow pace, that you cannot (try as you might) make him a shred swifter, your efforts having no effect on the much stronger overlord, to your dismay.

You exhale heavily and disengage from his arm, not allowing you freedom however, he quickly takes a hold of your hand, looping it back into the cook of his elbow again, as he continues escorting you, every step deliberate and exaggerated, making you feel outraged.

Without a word you amble together painstakingly, concentrating on anything other than the strong arm beneath your palm, the feeling of the squishy moss beneath your shoes, the rustle of a breeze (you can’t tell whether or not is artificial) in the trees and through your hair, the green and brown encircling you both on all sides, darkening as you both traverse deeper and deeper within, isolating you with him, you try valiantly to ignore the heat radiating from his body, or how pleasant awful it feels, the air thickens, your breathing growing laboured with tension.

You shiver, you hadn’t dressed for outdoor weather so were getting fairly chilly.

As you continue the odd journey undisturbed, you begin to think it felt rather nice, despite the company and the silence stretching on, and even with the warning bells ringing in your head, you start to relax infinitesimally as he appeared content to leave you undisturbed... famous last words.

“I think it would be wearisome if we keep proceeding silently my Dear, and I’ve been utterly intrigued by you for a while,” he supresses his mirth as he observes your tail frizz back up.

Static skating up your skin at the sound of his voice your body erupts in goosebumps, you try to convince yourself are unpleasant, but you can’t deny that this time it doesn’t feel so terrible, it seems after long exposure to him in the bayou, your body’s response didn’t feel like a warning, you can’t deny it, especially as it seems to evoke heat within, to your detriment you had to mentally stop yourself leaning into him to seek out more warmth.

You decide to humour him, if only to keep him talking, wanting more of the sensations.

“What has you intrigued about me... I mean I’m just a lowly sinner after all, wh-...”

“Why your aversion to me of course,” ever the diplomat, “for a while now I’ve noticed you avoiding me Little Doe, and I can’t help feeling slightly wounded by your actions, why do you treat everyone else so much more preferably? I feel perhaps that you don’t like me, not one little bit,” Alastor clutches his heart for dramatic effect.

“Well... I ermm... I just know all about you? Everyone has told me how dangerous you are, and I’d just rather keep my distance and not risk...”

“Don’t try to fool me with half-truth's Darling, there’s more you aren’t sharing, I can ascertain that for myself, or you wouldn’t flee the very sight of me when you know with certainty, I wouldn’t hurt a resident of our dear Charlie’s fine establishment... I would be a poor host indeed if I started killing off the wayward souls seeking redemption, not to mention how terribly bored I’d get when those seeking pointless help stopped turning up.” Alastor’s voice lowered dangerously the static increasing in his tone, he hates being lied to, especially by you, certainly in this moment, when he finally has you to himself, unable to spurn his company.

Alastor has found you running through his mind more and more lately, his days revolving around your routines, he tried to compromise with his unusual feelings, trying to interact with you as much as possible, yet your constant rejection persistently pains him, and now... Now he’s finally confronting you about it and you have the gall to try deceiving him with falsehood, when he can smell exactly what his presence is doing to you.

Alastor is very aware now as to how your body responds to him, his nostrils flare, the aroma he scents from you right now isn’t fear, fear is bitter, this is sweet, cloying, intoxicating, his eyes flicker to radio dials as he must take a firm hold of his self-control.

Your adrenaline spikes, and you start tugging, but you can’t get your hand free, “Alastor... I...”

“Another of your lies and you won’t appreciate the consequences Little Doe, so think before you speak, as I won’t allow another lie to go unpunished... and I want to assure you, I’ll know if you do.” Alastor uses his height to intimidate, towering over you menacingly.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your body shaking, his warmth and musk overpowering your faculties, you violently shake your head, at an utter loss for words.

Alastor chuckles at the visual, still keeping a firm deterring grip on your hand, he wouldn’t be surpised if he let go, if you proceeded by scrambling up a tree.

“You know what I think Little Doe? I think that you crave me,” Alstor’s heated body pressing closer to yours, “and you’re too terrified of your own feelings to even realise that’s precisely what you desire.”

You whimper quietly but his ignores you and presses on, his presence making you spiral, especially when he reaches to brush a strand of your hair from your face, causing all attempts to get away from him to halt as you freeze.

“Your body is responding to mine so deliciously, can’t you feel it? Every time you try escaping those feelings, you’re in denial, but I know better,” he leans down right beside your ear, a shiver running up your spine.

“I... can... smell... you,” he whispers his voice sending tingles all over you, your skin erupting in goosebumps yet again, eyes flying wide as he finishes enunciating teasingly.

You shake your head in denial, eyes wide in panic, your legs threatening to give way, and you try to fruitlessly tug at your trapped arm again, he growls deeply in warning about lying.

However, being completely overwhelmed you ignore the admonition, you can’t flee, you don’t freeze this time... so you fight... verbally.

“I’d rather be hanged again than crave anything you have to offer,” you snap, your free hand suddenly flying to your mouth in horror, you know you’ve really done it now.

His predatory smile widens, and several shadow tentacles burst menacingly from the ground, he releases his grip on you as all your limbs are restrained tightly in their grasp, one winding around your waist for support, you're hoisted into the air with ease and a fearful squeak, until you’re eye level with him, a good two feet off the ground.

“I warned you Little Doe,” Alastor growls, his claw gently tracing down your cheek leaving a tingling in its wake.

Prowling around you with growls still escaping him, once Alastor gets behind you, he tugs on your tail, your body trembling, you begin, hyperventilating, he simply flattens it out like a rug, and he shakes it like one too, several times until he makes a small satisfied hum of static, making you growl back at him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for some time now,” Alastor chuckles, calming slightly at your response, enjoying antagonising you, feeling at ease now, his tone completely lightening again at your helplessness, feeling every facet of your fear and desire from your scent alone.

“Now, about you, and your proclivity to lie to all powerful beings... well we’ve certainly got to correct that pesky behaviour for a start, I did warn you Dear that there would be punishment.”

He steps closer to you, circling back around to your front brushing against your tail and the fabric of your clothes as he goes, at least now granting you a visual on his location, you had been nearly panicking with him being behind you whilst you’re defenceless, your breathing calms slightly as he comes back into view.

You watch as his ears twitch, your cheeks flush at the cute visual, as he contemplates his next move, his grin looks paticularly malevolant as he slowly pulls off his jacket, rearranging the tentacles, he slips it over you, threading your arms through the long sleeves and shortening them with his magic so the tentacles can wind back around your wrists... You’re bound again, admittidly much warmer, but now engulfed in his heady scent, and it instantly drives you crazy.

You can’t believe how good that smell is to your senses, you feel a flood of heat in your tummy and underwear, you try to clear your head, but your nose just wants to bury itself into the warm heaven wafting upwards.

Alastor smirks when your cheeks flush even darker, knowing full well what’s happening as his body had been releasing pheramones for a while now in reaction to your arousal.

You feel lightheaded as he stops inches from your face, “Ready to admit it?”

You shake your head again, but don’t even notice how you didn’t protest to the fact that there is something to admit.

He dramatically sighs but looks utterly gleeful, he clicks his fingers and more tentacles spawn, ascending your legs, making you whimper and squirm, they ghost up your thighs, teasing the edge of your panties under your skirt, but withdraw at the last moment, skirting back down your legs maddeningly, stroking all the exposed sensitive flesh they can find.

Your temperature seems to raise even higher as now touch comes into play, and so as a twist he decides to deprive you of a sense this time, taking off his bowtie he gets a tentacle to hold your head still, and binds the tie over your eyes, and everything goes dark.

He takes a moment to admire the sight of you all wrapped up just for him, vulnerable, and whimpering, he would think you’d panic at what he just did, but it only seemed to turn you on more as his sensitive nose picks up a fresh wave of sweet floral heat from you.

He continues his control, gliding the tentacles he commands silently all over you, as you try to take utterly pointlessly shallow breaths trying to not breathe in his scent as you dangle in mid-air, the scent heady and making you feel drunk, but with every gasp and whine you inhale more and more.

His tentacles driving you insane as you are unable to anticipate where any of them are coming from or going next, the blindfold making you jumpy, your knickers are drowned at this point, yet the refusal of the tentacles to touch anywhere you actually need them to has you utterly quivering and unable to hold in your rising sounds of need and protest.

Alastor leans his cane against a tree, feeling utterly buoyant as he hums a tune, marking another sense off his internal list, making sure you will break completely and perfectly for him, the power making his cock twitch in interest.

Only one left he thinks gleefully, so he uses his powers to keep the tentacles going, as his microphone begins to play one of his favourite jazz tunes so you won’t hear him approaching, this final sense he’ll have to do himself, but because of everything else so far, he knows just from your delightful sounds, this is what will tip you over the edge.

He has noted you haven’t once said no, or asked him to stop, but he does keep in mind that if you utter those words, he will respect them, a bastard he may be, but he’s not that sort of demon, in fact he notices you haven’t said anything since he took control, he tries to determine if it’s fear of him, or fear of your own feelings, too scared to ask for more, too cowardly to admit you like it.

Adjusting himself with his hand, he moves so he can feel your body heat radiating off you, getting close enough he has to hold his breath, he raises a finger and traces its tip across your lips, dragging it along the seam and your whole body shudders, you moan to his utter delight, he withdraws his finger as your tongue comes out trying to catch it, all the confirmation he needs, and while you groan in displeased agony he crashes his lips onto yours.

His tongue plundering and dancing with yours as you sigh in bliss, finally getting some real contact, the taste of him so deliciously enticing you don’t even think twice about reciprocating, your tongue eagerly venturing out to meet his.

Every touch, every lap of his tongue against yours is a shock to your system in the darkness of the makeshift blindfold, his hands maddeningly never once straying to your body as the tickling and stroking of the tentacles increases, sending shivers all over your body, his scent still a vast ocean around you, the sound of jazz not nearly loud enough to ground you, when you moan into his mouth you feel him smirk as he withdraws yet again and you nearly cry out for him, your legs trembling against the appendages wrapped around them as even more slide up your back as you desperately try to lean forward seeking him out blindly.

He chuckles, sensing victory is near, you yelp as you feel your tail tugged on again, already overly sensitive from the teasing and heightened sensations of being plunged into darkness, your skin burning with static from the energy he exudes, you felt like a live wire about to spark. You can feel the fluids literally running down your leg, the barrier of your knickers doing nothing anymore.

His alluring voice sounds in your right ear once more, “Ready to confess Pet?”

You whimper, your senses on high alert, you turn you head toward where you can hear him, another stronger waft of his scent has you weak, wanting fulfillment, your pussy swollen, dripping and aching, you moan again, your brain not functioning at full capacity as you can’t comprehend what he’s talking about.

You shiver again the tentacles never ceasing their torment, he laughs as he watches you pout trying to lean toward him for more stimulation.

“Soon Little Doe,” Alastor promises, “First you must admit why you’ve been running away from me and being a mean Little Pet to me for months now.” He boops your nose startling you, making him laugh once more.

“Tell me Dear One, what do I do to you that makes you literally climb banisters to flee my presence.”

You whimper for another moment you pussy spasming, clenching around thin air desperately, you’d given up trying to avoid his smell and embraced drinking it in greedily now, if he could see your eyes, he would barely be able to see the coloured rings of them.

“Y-you,” you take yet another deep breath, your whole body vibrating like a tuning fork as you try to writhe and buck agaisnt the tentacles to no avail. “You, make me wet, fuuuck... Alastor, please... I’ve been avoiding you... because everything about you sets off every instinct inside me... and, and, and... it scares me... but fuck it makes me horny so badly...”

“Oh really? And what pray tell do you do when I make you horny, other than flee?” He grins, using his breath to send goosebumps all over your neck as he tickles your ear with it, blowing gently.

“Please... Al...” You cry out more impatient than ever before, “stop teasing, I beg of you...”

“Ha, no.” Alastor laughs at you, and you nearly cry at the torment, your whole body getting no reprieve from the writhing mass stimulating you.

Gasping as one lingers for longer near your mound this time, you hasten to answer hoping for relief, “I run to my room, and I fuck myself on my fingers until I cry your name... Please Al, oh fuck please!” Tears sliding down your face.

The world seems to shift around you, you feel almost car sick, the blindfold is ripped from your face, you blink rapidly against the now blinding brightness, he’s petting your hair soothingly and you realise you’re both back in the more ‘normal’ portion of his bedroom, a wrought iron bed dominating the area, you were sure that wasn’t there when you’d entered.

He cups your face before you can regain anymore sense and kisses you fiercely in reward, granting you a boon for your honesty, you moan eagerly, clutching at his body, not even noticing the tentacles had freed you as you wrap yourself around him pleadingly, almost dry humping him as he snogs you soundly, drawing out your tongue to suck on, making you moan yet again.

“There’s a good Pet... now that you’ve finally admitted it to yourself, we can get down to business... and I’m not through with you yet Little Doe, but first your punishment.”

You groan in protest, but he silences you with a look, his sharp grin predatory, threatening, and despite your desperate need your body and mind react instinctively, deferring to him automatically, accepting your fate a little too willingly for your tastes, but what were you to do?

You lower your head, tilting to the side in submission, he growls in approval.

“You were cruel Little Doe, and I want your penance, or I will make it so you cannot cum for a week.”

You maddened with lust and need by now nearly scream in frustrated fear, shaking your head manically, making him laugh again, his scent making you lean toward him again wanting nothing more than to get lost in him, devour every iota of him and be devoured in return.

“Fine, do it... punish me, please... please don’t leave me like this... I’ll do anything.” You beg him frantically, your body aflame.

“There’s my good Little Doe,” Alastor says light-heartedly, scratching you behind your small, pointed ears.

He snaps his fingers and without further ado you’re plunged back into darkness, you feel suddenly chilly and vulnerable as the cool air hits your skin all at once, you have no moment to react to your sudden exposure as you feel yourself dragged and sprawled on your stomach over a strong pair of warm, furry thighs.

Immediately you realise what’s going to happen and a new flood of unimpeded slick drenches your own thighs to his utter delight, he takes a moment to run a slim digit up the inside of your thigh, gathering the juice making you shiver and press into his hand with a needy whine.

He hums in approval when he tastes you for the first time, the sound of pleasure from him causing another jolt to your core despite being unable to see him, he exaggerates the wet licking sounds for your benefit, watching your reactions keenly.

“Delicious... Now, two strikes for every month of avoidance and pain you’ve caused me, and another five on top for your lies and cruel remarks earlier, so a grand total of fifteen,” he says in a husky growl, you can even hear his smile, it was malicious.

You wait, flinching with every breeze ghosting your backside.

He entertains himself for several moments just watching you tense, writhing and trying to anticipate his actions, so instead he idly runs his fingers up and down your back soothingly, the fur of your tail brushing the back of his hand.

He planned keep it up for a while, except the sight of you so helpless yet willing and pliant has him unable to hold back for much longer, needing to take from you what he wants most so he can figure out why you affect him so strongly, and to stop you from ever being able to leave, watching your pleasure has him harder than he’s ever been in his life, the power over you has him feeling things he’s never felt before, and he’s too far gone to even begin unravelling what it signifies.

An almost imperceptible swish and you hiss as the sting on your backside jolted you with slight shock more than pain.

“Count, and thank me each time, or I shall begin again each time.” Instructional, his voice betraying no emotion.

You nod blindly, with a yelp as the next sting burns, your bum flinching away causing your hips to grind against his thigh, and you realise your error, “One, thank you Alastor.”

“Master,” he corrects, wanting you to get accustomed to the idea.

“Master,” you parrot obediently, already a sopping leaking mess, Alastor’s thigh getting wet already.

You tremble in his lap, hyper aware of the hard thick rod pressing into your tummy.

In your distraction another swish and an audible slap, you wince, a groan escaping your throat, “Two, thank you A-Master.”

The warning growl to not make the error again has you squirming on him, and the next swift smack comes even harder, your arse begins to throb, heating up from the abuse as you can’t stop your audible reactions either, grunting louder in pain.

SMACK, you cry out in pain as the next strike hurts, tears start forming again, wetting the blindfold further, you choke out the gratitude, “T-three, thank you Master.”

The next he has mercy from you enduring and obeying on the last so well, the spank being not so hard, but you still feel it smart, “Four, thank you Master.”

You moan as you feel him pry your cheeks open, his probing gaze upon your revealed shame, you hear him inhale deeply, all your cheeks burning now, as he sniffs at your arousal, teasing you with just his breath lightly blowing on your tensing desperate holes.

You hear him growl yet again and you moan, arching your back, trying to tempt him, to no success as he swiftly gets right back to managing your punishment.

This goes on smoothly for the next nine spanks, your legs a drenched mess, you’re limp and sobbing on his lap as you shakily count the thirteenth strike, he sooths the burn with gentle rubs on your behind for a few moments, letting you gather yourself together, giving you a chance to not mess this up, to your immense gratitude.

Obviously, it’s a tactic on his end to endear him to you for showing ‘mercy’ but you're too cock desperate to even think that far.

“Almost done pet, you’re doing so well,” he praises admiring the darker colour of your beaten arse with awe. “Just two more, then I’ll take good care of you Little Doe.”

Sniffling you nod bracing yourself, tears streaming down your face, yet with every hit the heat in your groin had built to an unbearable precipice, not to mention the occasional tease of him stopping to enjoy the view of the flood exiting your hot and ready cunt.

You feel ready to just mount his leg (if you could get the angle right) and rub yourself silly on him, coating him in your essence, wanting to feel his thatch of fur soaked between your thighs, marking him like a bitch in heat.

“You smell, delicious.” His voice sounds gravelly, betraying his desire for the first time.

Catching you completely off guard, his tone and words make you moan louder than before, your hips jolting as your core pulses strongly, your body trying to find any source of friction, his hand keeping your thighs from rubbing together, your pussy trying to milk the air again.

Finally, you realise your eyes had been unimpeded, for you weren’t sure how long, you had just realised the lack of tear saturated cloth when he uses a gentle claw tipped finger to your face toward him so he can watch you, his crimson eyes burning your very soul.

“Such a pretty Little Doe,” Alastor purrs his praise at you, his eyes dark, his antlers large, his smile still screaming doom at you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when all you want is that grin peering up at you from between your thighs as you ride his face.

The loud clap and burn of the next blow has you crying out even louder the shock and power of it making your eyes close, your head straining to escape his grasp, he absorbs every facet of your reaction with rapture.

“AHHH... fo-fourteen, th-thank you... mmmaster,” you manage to stammer out, weeping from more than once place on your body.

The soft texture of his fur had been rubbing your nipples the whole time until they became hardened peaks, added to the burn of your arse and the insistent throb of your hot wet cunt, you were at the point of overwhelming sensory overload, feeling utterly deranged, in your crazed state you almost miss the final strike.

The pain zinging through your entire being, “Fif-teen, thank y-you, master,” you pant, your arse glowing like hot coals, you realise it’s over, almost feeling disappointed, but all you can focus on is the hard cock you just felt under your abdomen twitch.

He smooths his hand over the raw flesh of your arse soothing the pain, but your pussy was having none of it, throbbing even harder... more painful than your arse at this point. “Please...” You whimper, rubbing against him.

“My what a needy little slut you are Pet... I should have done this months ago.” Alastor’s radio crackle reducing to almost human sounding, made you shiver and moan again.

He sounded utterly euphoric, and you feel the flood still trailing down your thighs, you're surprised you both aren’t swimming neck deep by now with the copious amount drizzling out of you, forget the storm outside, the real storm he created himself between your legs.

Lifting your limp form gently and using his tentacles to arrange you.

You whine your body not responding to your commands as with ease he lays you on the bed, your sore bum protesting, your tail trapped under you, “Trust me Dear, with the state your beautiful little derrière is in, on the soft bedding is the best place for it right now... but fret not, you’ll soon forget it was ever sore in the first place.”

“Mas-mmm...” you try your body reaching its limit for tolerance.

He chuckles, pleased by the sight of your debauched state of utter glory, spread out before him, barely able to move.

You feel the chafing of rope wrapping around your wrists tightly dragging them together and up over your head, you look up in surprise as you see a noose tying around your wrists, you glace back at him in shock, a devilish smirk on Alastor's face.

“Wouldn’t want to make all your lies valid, and deprive you of a treatment from the gallows you so wished for now would I... after all...” his jubilant voice lowers as he crawls over your body, his clothes brushing against your skin, “apparently a rope is more desirable than my...” leaning close to your ear, licking the shell, “cock,” he enunciates making you moan and buck your hips up against him, groaning in frustration.

“Please Al-... Master...” you whine needily, sweat beading on your forehead from the stress of feeling so hollow, and swollen, your puffy pussy dark with flush, soaked and sensitive.

“Such a pretty, little pet, needy for your master’s cock Little Doe?” He holds back as you whine.

“Prove you want it, prove you need me, make me believe your repentance and I might just show you mercy” he leans closer, his weight baring down on you, pinning your body down, every inch of him pressed against you.

Your nerve endings reacting violently to the proximity as usual, even with him motionless your body feels feral with need, you want to claw at him, make him bury deep inside you so you don’t know where you begin and he ends, you want his cock so badly it hurts, nothing else matters in this moment.

You, however, can’t even react, you don’t know how, with your hands bound, your body pinned, and in this utter state of overwhelm, completely at his mercy, thoroughly insensible from his continued assault on your senses.

“Please... Please... Master...” You whine, keening as you feel the tips of his fingers gliding through your soaked pussy in reward, moaning, your eyes rolling as he finally touches you, the pleasure making you buck your hips to demand he rubs you harder.

“What would you do for me? To have my cock... to make you cum? What would you do...?”

You miss the warning signs, drunk on his scent and touch, all instincts making you arch into him, your hands tugging on the restraints, burning your wrists on the harsh rope.

Alastor’s smile is almost deranged as he awaits your predictable response knowing how much he’s gotten to you, knowing everything he desires is moments from his grasp.

“Anything, please, just anything, please Alastor, I’ll do anything, just take me, take me now...” You thrash about.

“Then give me your soul... or I shall leave you here tied up; I won’t lay another finger on you again if you don’t, I promise, but if you do give me what I want, I’ll make sure you cum so much, you won’t remember your own name.” his fingers rubbing circles on your aching clit as he says this to drive you further into the depths of your depraved state, finally giving you a balm to satiate, tease and further distract.

“Yes, yes, yes, please, just please.” The words barely register as you beg, moaning, tugging at the harsh restraint again, feeling as though you may die again if he leaves you like this now.

One of your hands is magically released and you quickly grasp at his outstretched hand now he's sat up straddling you, your wetness coating his fingers as your hand clings to them, he leads the action himself shaking your hand and there's a burst of green that you pay no mind to, the static that seems to fill your very blood gets ignored too as you try to cling to his collar next, trying to drag him back down onto you.

“Ah, ah, pet,” Alastor says, feeling the weight of the bond settle in his chest cavity, almost singing with glee.

Alastor rebinds your hand with a wave of his and the reappearance of a tentacle to enact his will, before getting up as you shout in protest.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head now Dear,” he taunts slightly as he uses his magic to swiftly divest the rest of his own clothes, you get a glimpse of wet thigh and his heavy bobbing cock before your vision is obscured again.

Whining turns to moaning as you feel his knee pushing between your legs, spreading you even wider, your head rising from the pillow trying to predict his actions again, your nose still full of woodsmoke, iron, musk and now your own arousal from the copious amount staining the bed.

The darkness consumes you as your vocal pitch gets even higher when you suddenly feel a tongue glide from perineum to clit, your entire body convulsing, your hot wet cunt pulsing, bucking your hips seeking more, your toes curling in effort.

He groans in pleasure at your taste, hip hips rutting forward instinctively.

“Fuck..” You cry out, your pussy reacting to the tongue with eagerness, that even the brief parting makes you sob.

“Language darling, no need to be vulgar,” his voice sending shockwaves through your core as he's so close he causes vibrations with his static to course through you, your body jolting with tiny electric shocks making you seep directly onto his waiting tongue.

“Please, I- ngh.. Need you,” you’re a whining mess, thrashing your head side to side, trying to dislodge the blindfold.

He ignores your plea and buries himself face first ravenously, licking and sucking every drop of ambrosia straight from the source of your unending well of lust and need, you can’t stop moaning, your legs over his shoulders as he feasts on you.

You tug harder on the ropes, wanting to bury your fingers in his hair, tug on his ears, anything, you just want to touch him so badly as your sopping cunt gets eaten like the most delicious desert feeling it pulse around his delving tongue, a spring coils tightly in your lower belly.

He moans at your taste, his cock leaking onto the sheets below him.

You cry out as he withdraws, tears falling into the blindfold again, you know why he’s tormenting you so, but you can’t take anymore.

“PLEASE!”

You feel the bed shifting, and the blissful slide of his skin against yours, dragging himself up against your nipples, licking one wetly on his ascent, his hot breath before it envelops your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue with a moan, feeling utterly blessed.

With one smooth hard thrust and a howling cry from you he's fully seated within you.

His hands push the backs of your thighs wide open, spreading you out for his desired position, your hips buck desperately for more.

Your walls compressing him as his thick hard cock stretches your clenching cunt wide, your body already feeling like it’s about to burst, absolutely burning within, every sensation heightened by your state of visual obscuration as you feel every millimetre of his cock wedged deep within you, your cunt helplessly fluttering around him already greedily trying to claim its prize.

The feel of his mouth smiling against yours as he plunders it, a frenzy of teeth and tongue, as he snaps his hips flush with yours causing an exquisite jolt within you as you cry out in ecstasy, the taste of him and your essence in your mouth as your body yields to his without opposition.

The flex of his stomach flush with yours as his hips roll in for another punishing thrust that has you throwing your head back and crying out to the heavens in rapturous relief your pussy clenching hard already as you squirt onto his busy pelvis, his thatch of fur soaking through, he groans picking up speed and force, intensifying your release as your pussy contracts rhythmically, squeezing him for all it’s worth, his skin slapping yours as he doesn’t let up.

He growls through gritted teeth, biting his tongue to keep him from spilling deep within you already, the feel of your pleasure almost too much for him.

“Just look at you, you were such a sassy little thing, and now...” Alastor grunts with effort, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, as your pussy spasms and squirts once more with a stuttered cry for you as he eases you through it again with his toiling cock.

Your body convulsing as the rope burns your wrists from the effort. Alastor’s hands moving from your thighs to your hips for better control and power to his demanding thrusts. Your loud moans never ceasing.

His skin and fur is soaked with your early release, “... Well now, you are a work of art... So weak, so pathetic, so mine... My dear you’ve never looked more glorious.” His hips not once slowing their pace as he delves deeply, his cock hitting places inside you that you never knew existed.

His cock exploring your blazing channel as your cunt spasms, burning at the stretch of being so filled by such an impressive being, with every inch of his large hungry cock that fills you, you feel as though nothing could make your body return to its state before the fucking of your entire lifetime... or death, the bed creaking ominously as he pounds away at you making sure you get thoroughly addicted to him.

Every pulse, every drag, every whine, and groan, a blur of pleasure, pain and desperation.

You plead with him as his hands glide all over your vulnerable exposure, memorising your curves, palming your round breasts, tweaking at the darkened peaks of your sensitive mounds.

“FUCK!” You cry out as you feel something not his finger begin to stimulate your clit while he ruts fiercely away at you.

Completely blind you’ve no idea what it is that has latched onto your swollen clit, only that your trembling legs begin to tense once more already, he withdraws his mouth leaving yours free for his audio entertainment and enthral him you did with every exquisite gasp and moan.

Blinded literally and figuratively with the pleasure making your brain short circuit at his bruising pace as he nibbles at your neck, your whole body arching as you cry out and convulse once more.

The wet slapping of drenched skin ceaseless, the burning of your wrists ignored over the burning throbbing of your cunt, your legs aching as you try to keep them raised and spread needing him deeper and deeper, wanting nothing more than to be filled to the brim by him, and never let him out.

Each beat of his cock stretching your channel in every direction, hitting your cervix with agonised pleasure as he makes sure to go balls deep with every thrust, feeling as though your very guts are being rearranged.

Alastor concentrates on making sure every inch of him is imprinted deep inside of you, desiring to be unforgettable, moaning as well as he feels the saturated warmth of you clutching at him, trying to drag him back in as he tries to thrust.

Desperately your arms tugs relentlessly, trying to find purchase on him needing to hold on to anything, any part of him... He denies you however and you sob as the ropes do more damage, but the overwhelming pleasure overrides all sense of self preservation as your squirting pulsing pussy gets ruined.

You feel another pair of hands supporting your legs startling you as his hands hadn’t stopped fondling you, exploring every inch of your body, they felt colder than his hands but no less substantial, you realise it’s his shadow when it feels like it’s pressed under your tail too.

You can’t think about it though as with a growl his teeth clamp down on the side of your neck and he sucks a bruise into your flesh teeth pricking your skin, you moan once more, the new sensation adding to the invasion of your senses.

“Scream for me Dear, relief is earned not given my Little Doe... scream for me,” With a sharp twist on your nipple, his thrusts bullying your stomach internally with every throb and rub and twitch, the sucking sensation on your clit increases to a painful capacity.

You break.

Screaming his name “ALASTOR!” you wail through your third release absolutely bathing him in your squirt, his cock making shluck sounds with every thrust as he finally gives in to his own release.

Bottoming out hard inside you once more and squeezing your tits tightly as you feel every part of him pulsing and flooding deep inside you, his hips slamming into yours, filling you to capacity, pumping every single pulse of seed inside you, making sure you take every single drop as he lifts your hips, using gravity to aid him, fucking his cum in you with his cock head, burying it firmly and making sure none escapes as he looks down at the absolute mess he’s made of you.

Alastor observes in satisfaction the blindfold still secure but drenched in tears, your skin flushed, soaked and bruised, the bite on your neck trickling warm blood down your clavicle, your legs spasm frequently from overstimulated relief, your pussy stretched wide over his still twitching cock, your wrists raw from the noose still binding them, and your entire body limp, the rapid rise and fall of your chest the only indication that you’re still conscious.

Gently he reaches to remove to blindfold, you blink against the stark change of brightness.

Eventually your eyes focus on the awe inspiring Radio Demon, his smiling look of utter smug pride as he catches his breath makes your pussy clench around him again making you whine from sensitivity, your head still quite dizzy, your body feeling heavy, it’s all you can do to not pass out.

Cooing at you, he releases your wrists from their restraints and rolling you both onto your sides he cradles you to his chest petting your hair whispering praise as he holds your wrists up for inspection, “Such a beautiful little Pet, you did so well, I’m right here, don’t you worry, I take care of what’s mine.”

There’s a green burning glow again and you feel your wrists smart once more before the pain dulls and you slump in relief against him.

Moaning as his cock shifts inside your abused hole, he chuckles and starts humming soothingly, helping you adjust and come down from your ordeal.

His own state a stark contrast to yours, he seems almost energised as he takes care of you, rubbing your back, kissing the top of your head as your legs stays slung over his waist as he slowly softens inside you, both of you dripping from your release, but you don’t have the mental faculty to be embarrassed over your particular penchant for squirting, nor his talent on seamlessly drawing it out of you.

Finally when he deems you recovered enough he scoops you up and heads to the bathroom to clean you both up, sliding gently out of your warmth making the pair of you groan, he gives you another kiss to ease you again.

The sound of his pleasure makes your heart flutter, he traverses the distance easily on his long sturdy legs, the shower already running, he steps inside the warm flow of water with you still cradled in his arms rinsing you both off as best as he can.

“Such a pretty little Doe, my perfect little pet, you felt so good wrapped around me, knew exactly how much you needed me... All this time, who knew you could be so good for me.” He seemed to narrate everything that happened, how delightfully responsive you were and how he can’t wait to see you cum for him again and again.

Your head rests on his chest still shaking from overstimulation, your pussy still sore and pulsing as he uses his tentacles to hold you and his hands to clean you, you listen to him far more than you had earlier when you’d been absconded upstairs by him, but taking no more of it in than before in your well fucked state.

Once you’re both clean he keeps you in the tentacles gentle, secure hold as he grabs towels for you both, and the sight of his little fluffy tail wagging is what caused you to sober up enough to regain your senses.

The flash of green when he had to conjure towels makes you gasp as your memory comes back to you... Your hand jumping to your chest as though to grasp at your very soul as you remember what you did.... All for the sake of sex with Alastor... Damn good sex but still... How the hell did he manage that?

Your heart races in panic as he returns to you wrapping you up so carefully to dry you, you can’t help but feel affection for him and of how tender he’s being caring for you.

He finishes drying you both, the smell of him all the more potent now your dripping squirt had been cleansed from both of your skin and fur.

He carries you back into the bedroom, tucking you into now clean, dry, soft bedding.

Getting in beside you he pulls you gently into his arms, hushing you when you attempt to speak, scratching behind your ears, making your eyelids go heavy and you almost purr.

He conjures you a glass of water and holds it steady as he helps you drink, your hands still too shaky to cope.

“We’ll talk about it all tomorrow.” Alastor says softly intuitively knowing what the look in your eyes meant, seeing the fear, doubt and questions, his smile softens, seeming almost genuine, he vanished the glass and gathers you in close, pressing another softer kiss to your lips, utterly pleased with the results of today, thankful for the storm outside as he finally got everything he wanted.

“Goodnight my perfect Little Doe.”

Your eyes drift closed, his warmth and scent addictive, comforting to your overworked muscles as he rubs your back soothingly, maybe you were wrong about the risks of being infatuated with him... But still your soul? What were you going to do now... What was he going to do with you... Would you be expected to warm his bed forever? Would he expect you to housekeep like Niffty or barkeep like Husk... There was no avoiding it... From this moment on... You belonged to him...

Forever Bound.

A/N: I only edited this once rather than my usual 4 times, so if there's alot of errors or issues let me know 💜

[angelwishess]

𝜗𝜚 Floyra Intro Post !

❝Because theres no one on the land or in the sea more in sync than those two.❞

|| playlist. || moodboard. || pinterest quotes. || pinterest board. || (<- in the “Dynamic w Floyd” section!)

Floyra is the ship of my main oc, Kyra and Floyd! Kyra is my Yuusona twisted from the Disney Princess Stereotype.

This intro post is just to graph out the timeline and details of their relationship. Funfacts at the end :3 (Fair warning though, this ended up being SUPER long… So feel free just to skip to the funfacts if you want HAHAHA)

Please note I may or may not have changed some things in the canon storyline for my own amusement hehe. Nothing too major though.

Tropes :

Idiots to Lovers, Bestfriends to Lovers, Soulmates, literally the DENSEST people ever … Actually they’re more like cowards. Mutual pining, mutual SIMPING they ADORE eachother they are absolutely WHIPPED, chaotic lovey dovey couple, tooth-rotting fluff, no i mean seriously this is the fluffiest ship EVER, they make eachother both better and worse simultaniously. They share the same braincell. Basically already a couple before they even start dating but they dont realize it.

Kyra: “What?? Ofc we’re not dating lmao wdym we’re just friends!!” <- just held his face tenderly and looked into his eyes adoringly while calling him the prettiest boy in the world and kissing his face all over

Floyd: “yeah lol why would u think that” <- arm around her waist, basically always looking at her with a dopey grin and heart eyes

First Impressions

When Floyd heard that there was an unexpected appearance of a magicless student at the entrance ceremony that blazed in with a flaming fire tanuki and set fire to the mirror chamber, he was intrigued. When he learned that very same student was, quite literally, from an entirely different world, he was even more intrigued.

Not to mention the fact she lived in that rundown, deteriorating 'dorm' that was literally called Ramshackle, and she was almost expelled two other guppies on the very first day of school.

But, when he saw her for himself he was... Disappointed.

Often times she just stood by the sidelines, seemingly in her own world with a far-off look in her eyes and an empty smile that ticked him off for no apparent reason.

She never reacted to anything, letting people walk over her like some sort of welcome mat. Somehow, she didn't even feel alive.

To put it bluntly— Floyd thought she was boring.

Just a wimpy, puny little shrimp who didn't even have any magic. Who wouldn't even run away if her life was on the line, weak and defenseless. Naive. How boring, and here he thought he had another play thing... But wheres the fun if he doesn't get a reaction out of it? How lame.

Kyra and Floyd only officially met during book 2.

Kyra passed by Floyd a bunch of times before— but never actually ‘saw’ him. Floyd on the other hand, already had an opinion of Kyra.

Seeing her just simply standing by the sidelines again and saying nothing and just… Staring. He decided to finally approach her straight up.

Deciding to give her a squeeze for the fun of it— he didn’t expect at all for her to hug him back and basically turn the situation on him instead. It flustered him, and made him walk away from the whole scene out of confusion and embarrassment.

Despite everything, Kyra thought Floyd was amusing. and insanely pretty.

Building Interest …

As time passed they seemed to keep catching glimpses of eachother. And with each passing day, she seemed to get more and more... Interesting.

Facing overblots despite having no magic, causing trouble left and right and getting into such ridiculous situations it makes you wonder how she does everything she does without getting tired of how absurd it all is.

When his first impression of her was her being ‘boring', his second was her being naive. How else could you explain it? She had to be either ridiculously brave or incredibly stupid and naive to do the things that she does.

Kyra and Floyd don’t have any notable interactions until the main events of Book 3.

When Kyra decided to strike up a deal with Azul to free all of the students under a contract— Floyd thought she was stupid. Naive, and way too easy of a target. It was laughable. It basically confirmed everything he thought of her.

As Floyd and Jade were monitoring Kyra and Grim as they packed up their things, Kyra acted as if nothing major was happening. Talking to them and cracking jokes like they were old friends. It was then Floyd and Kyra found out they might be more similar than they thought, saying the same things at the same time and holding the same opinions.

When Kyra almost dropped a bag of her things, Floyd helped from impulse. He laughed it off, but Kyra decided to give him a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you’.

He froze in place. Not expecting that kind of reaction from her once again, and just kind of… Staring at her as she passed. Jade had another laugh at his brother.

When Kyra first saw Floyd in his merform, he took the chance to try and scare her a little. Just for fun. But just like before— it totally backfired, and Kyra just looked at her with the same wonder as she did the first time. She had the nerve to call him ‘Beautiful’ under her breath, too.

So, Floyd simply swam away after realizing she wasn’t going to give him the reaction he wanted, deciding to play with someone who will.

But when he tried to attack a nearby friend of hers— She punched him straight in the face! A fire burning in her eyes as she straight up threatened him.

Floyd was… Confused. Confused about Kyra, i mean. One moment she was staring at him like he was a of work of art, the next shes throwing hands at him with zero hesitation. He thought she was a pushover— but maybe he was wrong.

She had guts, though. Thats for sure. A magicless little thing like her deciding to put her hands up and fight, even threatening him? A 13ft long eelmer that could rip her apart without a sweat? Something about it.. Scared him a little. Ending up with a bloodied nose, staring down someone who didn’t show any fear or any regret.

Floyd always wanted a challenge. But did he expect that challenge to come in a 5’7 package, decorated with pretty pink bows? No, not at all.

But thats something. And boy, does Floyd love the thrill of the unexpected. After this interaction that past intrigue he had in her before came back 2 times stronger.

It only worsened when Kyra’s little plan to destroy Azul’s contracts actually worked… And Floyd got chills seeing the look on her face.

It was so unlike what he thought of her. A big, smug grin. The face of someone who knows they already won. It was almost malicious. And it was then he realized— she wasn’t as dumb or as naive as he thought she was, either.

But when they got back to the Lounge, it so happened that Leona seemed to have missed one, single contract. When they spotted it, Kyra was the first to react. Managing to grab it before Azul.

Azul wasn’t too happy about it, screeching and yelling for her to give it to him, grabbing her while doing so.

And in that moment of tension, of fear and action, she did something that shocked everyone. In the face of danger, she held the sole contract tightly in her hands and she—

…She ate the contract.

She shoved the glowing papering in her mouth, and swallowed the thing. And it worked. Honestly they didn’t know which was more ridiculous… Her decision, or the fact it was a success.

She grinned so widely, so proudly. She had the nerve to even laugh in Azul’s face. “Yeah, thats right! Screw you, octoboy!”

Floyd couldn’t surpress the laughter that bubbled up his throat watching it all go down. The sound of her laugh ringing in his ears. It was just so… Ridiculous. She was ridiculous.

She had just outsmarted Azul… And the best solution she could think of was to eat the contract? It was downright cartoonish!

But when Azul overblotted, Floyd got to see Kyra in action. He was surprised all over again. But he should be used to it by now, he should expect it. She just keeps surprising him.

She was no pushover— rising up to the challenge when needed. Even if she still acted unserious, even if she acted goofy and wild, she still got down to business and made it work nonetheless.

And he realized she wasn’t anything like what he thought of her before. She was… Nothing like what he thought. Always surpassing his expectations of her no matter how much they changed.

Everytime he thought he had her figured out, she goes and does something that makes him rethink it all over again…

She was very, very interesting. And now, shes got his full attention.

Strangers to Besties!

After the main events of Book 3, Floyd had started following around Kyra more often. Actually, scratch that. He started following her around constantly. She eventually apologized for punching him in the face, too. Surprisingly.

Realizing they were actually very similar, they began hanging out more and more, until they eventually became an inseperable duo that everyone knew about.

At first, most were surprised. Kyra had only just started coming out of her shell, so most were still under the impression she was a sweet, mild mannered young girl.

But after befriending Floyd— all of her self-control truly did go flying out of the window. If she was bad before, she was even worse now. Freely skipping classes more often without a care to go find Floyd, trying to juggle live fish in the courtyard, or jumping out of a window just to escape some of the staff. and the like.

Late night adventures, dancing in the rain, sneaking out of class, spontaneous hang outs and sleepovers, pulling pranks and causing trouble left and right… They were so in sync, its was scary. Kyra was almost like a second Floyd, and everyone knew that it was probably best to run in the other direction when you see them side by side.

No matter what the situation, they always had eachother’s back, too.

It was strange to think they were ever strangers. They felt like they’ve known eachother for years— thats how well they’ve grown to know eachother. They were as thick as thieves!

Hanging out everyday, whenever they could, they just had so much fun together all the time!

To everyone’s dismay, of course. They were far too in sync, if the chaos around one of them was bad it combined when they were together.

Floyd finally found someone who could keep up with him, and even better, keep him on his toes. Kyra surprised him everyday, and thats what he loved. He found someone who understood him, too.

Kyra on the otherhand, found someone who encouraged all of her once repressed desires. She found someone she could be herself with, with no fear of judgement.

Never one without the other, those two. Wherever Kyra was Floyd was surely close to follow, and wherever Floyd was Kyra was most definetly near. They followed eachother around, always stayed close to one another.

Slowly, they’ve grown to not only seek eachother out to go and have fun, but also for comfort.

Platonic ..?

What started as a simple friendship which focused on the high of ‘having fun’ and causing trouble, or just basically being partners in crime— slowly turned into something much more… Intimate.

When Floyd stormed all the way to Ramshackle after a bad day at Mostro Lounge, he didn’t really know what to expect, he just wanted to get away from everyone else and Ramshackle was the best place he could think of.

He didn’t expect Kyra to be so caring. Pulling him into her arms and running her fingers through his hair while encouraging him to rant.

Kyra had always been an affectionate person, he knew that. It started small— little kisses on the cheek and forehead from Kyra to him, hugs and the like. But this was different. It felt different, atleast.

The way she held him felt different, and the way her lips gently kissed his skin made all of the stress from before sizzle into nothing.

He couldn’t help but melt, and before they knew it this became a routine for them, too.

They grew to find themselves comfortable being vulnerable around eachother. Showing sides of themselves to eachother most wouldn’t see. And they knew eachother better than anyone else did.

Simple, friendly touches became something more. The playful wrap of Floyd’s arm around her waist became tighter, and Kyra’s touches on him lingered for longer. Suddenly the playful ‘I Love You’s didn’t seem platonic anymore— atleast not with the way they looked at eachother while they said it.

Simply seeking eachother out to go cause chaos turned into seeking eachother out to just simply be in eachother’s presence instead. Whatever activity they did started to come second, and as long as they were together they were as happy as could be.

Of course, they never recognized this change. In their point of view, they’ve always been like this. But everyone else can see as plain as day, that something definetly changed.

It was painful for everyone involved, really. For some reason neither of them seemed to acknowledge the obvious feelings between eachother.

Everyone could see the way they looked at eachother, the way they acted around eachother… Everything was so painfully blatant… But they still couldn’t admit it. Even when the lines between friendship and intimacy began to blur.

Realizations!

Nothing about their relationship really changed at this point. They just kind of realized their romantic feelings after being deep in denial for WAYY too long.

The first to realize their feelings was actually Kyra, believe it or not. Which is funny because shes never been the best at realizing her own emotions in general.

She was definetly panicked about it, and decided to not say a word of it to anyone. She didn’t want to ruin the friendship they had, after all he was her dearest friend. So she kept her mouth shut and continued on pretending like it was nothing.

She felt selfish having such feelings. She felt as if she didn’t deserve him, like he deserved better than her because she grew up thinking she must be unlovable. And so she kept quiet for the sake of him, too. She thought it was best for the both of them. (<- LIARRRRR!!!!!!)

Floyd realized a little later, it kind of just hit him one day. They weren’t doing anything in particular, he just looked at her and went “Oh. Ohhh.”

Like a lightbulb went off in his head. He didn’t say anything about it either for awhile. Eels are cowards, after all. And he didn’t know if she felt the same. So he just decided to act like nothing happened, continued this routine of theirs that they’ve grown attatched to.

Maybe there were afew times where they wanted to say something about it, to finally admit the unspoken thoughts they’ve had kept in the back of their minds… But they never go through with it. Always backing out last minute, brushing it off.

The two were cowards, dancing around their mutual feelings. Unsure of how the other felt, so they decided to just leave it all unsaid. Even if the look in their eyes said otherwise.

Saying they were just “best friends” was just so much easier. It was what they were used to, what they were comfortable with. It was easier to brush it all off as them being comfortable eachother, sharing beds and exchanging gentle touches. It was all platonic, of course!

…Though Floyd was hesitant with his own feelings. He never expected to find someone that captured his interest so much… Yet he wondered, was he ready to commit?

Strangely, there was no doubt in his mind. It was yes, it always was, yes. The moment he asked himself that question he answered it immediately at the same time.

Of course, because he realized if it was Kyra, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do. Man, when did he get so whipped for such a silly shrimpy?

Merfolk only choose one mate for life. And Floyd is sure he wanted his to be Kyra.

He was scared of course after realizing his own feelings. Besides Azul and Jade, he's never let anyone get this close to him. It was strange letting Kyra in like this. He didn't plan on her, not at first at least. but now that he has you, he wants to keep you forever.

Man, she just kept surprising him, huh? He never even thought he could feel so deeply for someone. But hes so glad that he found her, that they found eachother.

Difficulties…

When Kyra left with Epel, Rook and Elena during Book 6, Floyd was upset.

Thats an understatement, really. He was furstrated, worried, and somehow he even felt betrayed.

Why didn’t she tell him?? Doesn’t she know its dangerous? Whats a shrimpy like her gonna do, huh?

He knows Kyra can take care of herself, he knows shes capable and he knows she can defend herself. But that doesn’t stop him from worrying.

Throughout the span that shes gone Floyd is restless. Hes snappier, hes moodier and he cant seem to stop pacing around no matter how hard he tries.

But when Kyra gets back— he completely ignores her.

Kyra was so very confused. Actually, everyone was. This was a first for the two of them. Honestly, Kyra expected him to run towards her just like he always does. But he doesn’t.

Kyra is back, but that doesn’t change his mood. If anything, it worsens. And Kyra doesn’t have a clue why! Everytime she tries to approach him, he just turns his heel and walks away. And hes never looked at her like… that..

Kyra is a total mess. And suddenly shes not as good as keeping her real feelings at bay like she usually is. She wondered if she did something wrong? Said something wrong? Was he finally sick of her? And that was when she realized— she was terrified of the thought of losing him.

In desperation she went to Jade. Maybe she should’ve asked Elena for advice instead, but before she knew it she was sat infront of Jade, asking for help with his brother.

If anything, Jade seemed amused with her situation. Of course he did. But with a mischevious twinkle in his eye, she had a feeling he had a scheme brewing up in his head.

Maybe she should’ve known better than to trust Jade… But she didn’t really have a choice, or so she thought as much.

Something about this situation felt so… Deliberate. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it seemed like he knew she’d come to him for help sooner or later.

After giving Kyra some advice and words of encouragement, he did something rather out of character of him. Bringing into a hug, he held her rather close to himself.

Kyra didn’t really notice this, and accepted the hug with no hesitation. Wrapping her arms around him and sighing as she melted into the well-needed hug.

Little did she know, Jade’s eyes were glued onto his brother’s figure, looming by the doorframe with a scowl on his face. It made Jade chuckle, deciding to tighten her arms around Kyra juust a little more to see what he’d do.

Of course, Floyd wasn’t happy about it. Now, Floyd is not a jealous person by any means. He has better things to focus on, other things to keep him entertained. But at moments like these, when hes already in a bad mood, he can’t help that primal instict, its in his blood after all. A moray is a moray.

Tearing her away from Jade, he drags her to somewhere else. Leaving a very amused Jade watching them leave.

And so, an argument occurs !!! Its a back and forth, Floyd mad about what he just saw, Kyra trying to explain the situation then her getting mad at him back for avoiding her like the plague.

It ended up with Floyd admitting he was mad because she didn’t tell him about her going with them, but at the same time he was mad at himself for not being able to be with her then.

Kyra realizes that, yeah, she probably shouldve let him know she was going. But she couldn’t just brush off the fact he hurt her by doing what he did, shes grown enough as a person at this point to not let her own feelings go unheard.

Reconcilliation!!! They both apologize and promise to do better, and what better way to catch up on lost time than a sleepover??

Best believe that after they made up, they went back to their normal selves as if nothing happened— actually, maybe even worse with how much clingier they are. They seriously missed eachother, seeing how much they stuck together. 😭

“Home”?

When Kyra got news of the possibility of finding a way back to her home she was in shambles. So very conflicted between the place she called home and the place she felt was home.

She knew she had to leave some day. She knew this freedom she had was temporary. She knew one day, she’d have to go back to the life she grew to despise, the life that was never hers.

She didn’t want to leave, though. Of course she didn’t. But still, she didn’t really have a choice.

She decided she wouldn’t do the same mistake and leave Floyd out of the loop. If anyone deserves to know first, its probably him.

And so, while theyre sitting on the rooftop of Ramshackle she mentions it. And Floyd is… Upset. Of course he is. Hes beyond upset, really. He just got his best friend back, now hes hearing she might be going away again? For good? Forever?

No way. He couldnt accept that, there was no way he could. But before he could even say anything— Kyra spoke first.

“I don’t want to go back. I really, really don’t.”

“…You don’t? Huh? Why?” There was a wave of relief that crashed over Floyd when he heard those words fall from her lips, his eyes glued onto the girl beside him. Hanging onto every word she says. “No. Its just… Its not my home, atleast not anymore. I dont think it is.”

“I think, this is my home now.” She chuckles, eyes glued down to the ground below. “…Because you’re here.” She says, turning to look at him. She spoke in that tone that she only used behind closed doors. When no one was looking. That soft, sweet voice she used whenever she carded her fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings to him until he fell asleep. It wasn’t unauthetic like the voice she used when they first met— no, it was genuine. Real. Full of adoration, of fondness. Her gaze held so much love.

“…Hah, what’re you gettin’ all sappy for, Sea Angel? Thats so cringe.” He laughed, but his heart soared. Even if it was cheesey, he couldnt help but swoon with just the way she looked at him. Like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. She always said he was the prettiest boy in the world.

She moved forward, her face leaning ever so close to his, so close he could see every line and curve of her features. He laughed at first, “Hey, what’cha tryna do, huh? What? Do I have somethin’ on my face?” He joked, but she didn’t respond. It looked like she was thinking, like she was deep in thought. “…Kyra?”

Her name left his lips for what was the first time. Hanging in the air like a silent prayer of longing, of want. And her own lips met his. Capturing it in a sweet, sudden kiss.

Time seemed to have stopped. It always felt like that when they were together, but this was different. Nothing could prepare him for that— hell, he didn’t even get the chance to kiss her back, the moment felt as if it went on forever but it was over too quickly all the same.

There was a flash of realization on Kyra’s face as her cheeks flushed a red that could rival Riddle on a rampage. Stumbling and stuttering, she couldn’t handle the embarrassment, and before he could even say anything she ran away. Leaving him on the rooftop, wide eyes and a stomach full of butterflies.

Yeah. Kyra is really stupid sometimes.

After that whole thing, she ran to Leona to let out her thoughts. He listened, though he said he ‘didn’t have a choice anyway’.

“So… You kissed him then you just.. Ran? Seriously?” “I PANICKED!!!”

Floyd and Kyra don’t really interact until Malleus’ overblot. And during the time they’re in Floyd’s dream, shes hoping he doesn’t bring up what happened at the rooftop.

Confession!

The confession takes a long, LOONG time. Im talking probably around book 7 or later. Probably when Kyra confirmed that shes staying in Twisted Wonderland. (Everyone thank Papa Crewel, he sorted out her documents for her :33)

Hehe because eels are cowards and they dont take the shot unless theyre sure it’s a winner. So he waits, and waits some more. And of course, that kiss was the sign he needed to finally just go for it.

Eventually, Floyd does confess. Although I still haven’t thought of the details— it does go something like this.

When Kyra at first laughs at him thinking it was a joke, he got annoyed. He didn’t think this was funny, and after seeing the serious look on his face she stopped immediately.

After realizing he was being genuine, she started straight up BAWLING. Sobbing, because she couldn’t believe someone could ever love her the way she is.

Shes deemed herself as unlovable so very long ago, she didnt expect the person she adored so much to ever love her back. She felt selfish, wanting to accept his feelings. But she wanted to be selfish at that moment.

Floyd has never been one to comfort people. He was never the best at it, but if its her, he’ll try. He always does. It was weird, but if it was her he always found himself doing things he’d never thought he’d do for someone else.

When Kyra started rambling about all of the reasons he “shouldn’t” love her, he started talking about why he loved all of those sides of her. Kissing away her tears n’ all. AUAUAUUUGGHHHH

It was honestly super emotional ESPECIALLY for Kyra, but she of course accepts the confession and they FINALLY KISS PROPERLY OH MY GOD THANK U !! ROUND OF APPLAUSE !!!!!!!

Floyd also calls Kyra by her actual name instead of ‘Shrimpy’ or ‘Sea Angel’ during this confession :3

“Its About Time!”

Honestly, nothing much changes after they confess.

Sure it takes some time to get used to them being officially a couple, but they’re still mostly the same.

However, I’d like to think that they just… Don’t mention it to anyone. Not because they’re keeping their relationship a secret, they just ?? Dont ???? Because they’re weird like that idk and its funny to me

For awhile no one actually knows they’re dating, and one day when someone comments on how they really should just suck it up and start dating they’re like “oh, lol we already are” “WHAT—“

Floyd definetly brags about Kyra a lot though 😭😭 and Kyra does the same… theyre both so down bad its SICKENING.

Funfacts!

Floyd was kind of scared of Kyra for a little while LMAOO 😭 shes a little TOO freaky …

Floyd has stayed over at Ramshackle so much that he’s has a bunch of stuff over there. An extra toothbrush, some changes of clothes, you name it. Its probably there. You can bet Floyd just lets himself into Ramshackle all the time, sometimes even in the middle of the night. But Kyra is always so chill about it 😭 (only because its Floyd HEHE)

Before they even started dating— behind closed doors they already acted like an old married couple 😭

Kyra and Floyd are lowkey super domestic behind closed doors, especially after a sleepover. Waking the other up with kisses ….. Helping eachother get ready for the day, helping eachother get dressed … Cooking together …….. theyre so sickening …………

Even if they aren’t with eachother all the time, they still manage to include eachother in their lives somehow. Whenever they go off on a solo-adventure, they always come back with some sort of trinket that reminded them of the other.

Speaking of, they’re both avid collectors of anything they deem cool enough. Random rocks, acorns, a lost penny, you name it. They like to show eachother the things they found throughout the day to eachother!

They have this silly little game Kyra started. She began hiding little sticky notes with sweet messages or a doodle and sometimes gifts in places she knows Floyd will find, and he’s started doing the same thing. Ever since then, its kind of become more like a competition on who can find the most sticky notes 😭

Kyra gets cuteness aggression from Floyd. Yeah thats it.

^^ she genuinely believes hes the cutest thing ever. Whatever u say queen!!!!

Floyd loves giving Kyra random gifts out of nowhere. The gifts can range from ‘a cool rock’ to a designer jacket. Kyra doesnt know which she prefers HAHAHA

Kyra herself prefers handmade gifts, so she loves to make Floyd pieces of jewelry and clothing! Shes always so proud whenever she sees him wearing something she made :3

Floyd and Kyra have been kicked out of class several times for laughing too hard.

They admitted to eachother before they even started dating that they couldn’t imagine their life without the other… can they pls take the hint omg

Floyd always feels super bad whenever he loses control of his temper around Kyra. One time he snapped at her, and he immediately apologized 😭 he told her to slap him if he ever did that again, hugged her so tight too and Kyra honestly found it so cute 😭

Floyd always perks up whenever he realizes Kyra is close by, always running straight to her. Kyra does the same thing and quite literally jumps into his arms.

Both Kyra and Floyd’s main love language is physical touch!! But Kyra loves to compliment him all the time, and Floyd loves gift giving :3

Kyra always greets Floyd with a kiss on the cheek. Yeah she started doing this before they were event dating im afraid ….

Kyra and Floyd love to read together at night, though Kyra usually falls asleep first AHAHAHA

But !! Kyra is also the first to wake up more often than not, and always wakes Floyd up with butterfly kisses on his face :3

Floyd convinced Azul to add some of Kyra’s favorite foods to the menu of Mostro Lounge just to get her to come visit more often

Kyra fights anyone that bad-mouths Floyd. Floyd doesnt know whether to find it cute or annoyed that she keeps getting herself hurt 😭

^^ SPEAKING OF, Kyra literally unlocked a much more caring side of Floyd with her being so accident-prone 😭 girlie got herself injured so much FLOYD had to step in smh …

Floyd is the kinda guy to carry Kyra if her feet started to hurt while walking or if she sprains an ankle teehee

They’re both banned from an arcade in town after they broke a claw machine and stole all the plushies inside. And other things but that isnt as important.

When Floyd feels like hanging out with her, he’ll look for her around campus then just throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes then just walks away. Kyra never struggles or objects and kind of just … accepts her fate 😭

Rambling…

Kyra grew up thinking the love she received will always be conditional. That she always needed to live up to some sort of expectation, and so she created a ‘perfect’ persona in order to do just that.

She still keeps that persona from the Prologue to Book 1, but begins to break away from it during Book 2– but while in her past she was only loved for the version of herself she created for others— it was the opposite with Floyd.

He disliked her so-called ‘persona’, but fell so deeply in love with her real self.

^^ she was very confused, yet so very happy.

Floyd never expected to ever love or care about someone so deeply, but at the same time he can’t imagine anything he wouldn’t do for Kyra.

Floyd thinks everything is fun as long as Kyra is with him <3

Kyra only ever started showing her more vulnerable side to Floyd during her character development. He was the very first to ever see her break away from the unbothered act she always put on.

Floyd was never one to let himself be so soft and vulnerable around anyone, ever. But strangely, he lets his guard down around Kyra. Kyra knows of the much gentler side to him, and she adores it so very much.

Kyra is extremely understanding and patient of Floyd and his mood swings. She knows he’d never intentionally hurt her, and always knows just how to cheer him up. Whether with a silly joke, a spontaneous adventure or just lying in bed with him in her arms.

Kyra trusts Floyd with her LIFE. She trusts him so much its ridiculous. No matter what the situation, she always feels like she can rely on him… But she wont trust him with her food. Or her plushies.

Extra: Incorrect Quotes (?)

I have more on my 🎀! twst shennanigans tag lol

[mythalism]

im so sorry to be a mythal lover like my icon and url suggest but i genuinely think her relationship with solas in this game was one of its best writing moments and specifically their confrontation is the highlight of this game for me and i have to talk about it.

it is so fucked up and tragic and raw. it shows us a side of him we have never seen before. she is so brutal but also somehow kind. she is probably the most complex and nuanced character in the entire dragon age universe. what she did to him was inexcusable and she takes full accountability for it but she also does not apologize. its SO INTERESTING!!! ITS SO INTERESTING!!!!

WHEN HAVE WE EVER SEEN HIM LOOK LIKE THIS>??? HIS FACE??? HIS BODY LANGUAGE????? HE LOOKS TERRIFIED AND WRETCHED. WE HAVE NEVER SEEN HIM LOOK LIKE THIS EVER.

HE WHISPERS HER NAME, AVERTS HIS GAZE. HE CANT EVEN LOOK HER IN THE EYE. HIS NAME IS PRIDE??? HE IS THE DREAD WOLF AND HE IS THE MANIFESTATION OF PRIDE AND LOOK AT HOW HE LITERALLY CRUMBLES IN HER PRESENCE???? HOLY SHIT. THIS IS SO UNLIKE HIM

i love that she does not apologize. it would have been out of character. she isnt sorry and she never was, but she at least takes accountability for what she did to him and the effect it had. she does not offer meaningless platitudes of sorrow. why would she??? she just plainly states the truth.

I RELEASE YOU FROM MY SERVICE. I RELEASE YOU FROM MY SERVICE. HE STILL CANT LOOK HER IN THE EYE. HE IS SOOOO SUBMISSIVE HERE WHAT THE FUCK. honestly i need to make a comparison between their body language here and his body language with lavellan in trespasser but that'll have to be for another time. but i am so obsessed with this line being what she says of all the things she could have said. again no apologies. just catharsis. and she talks to him like a loyal dog, someone under her command, a subordinate, not a lover. did she always see him that way? where did those lines blur? this would have been a good moment for an "ar sala mala revas" but this line is so brilliant on its own i cant complain.

AND THEN YOU HAVE THIS NEXT. THE WAY THEY ARE THE INVERSE. mythal stands over him and looks down upon him, while lavellan literally GETS ON HER KNEES TO SEE HIS FACE. TO LOOK HIM IN THE EYE. BRO THIS IS SO SICKENING. once again it mimics the way they kneel in trespasser, the way they kneel when he removes her vallaslin. and even though he's not kneeling he is bent over in agony and she is quite literally meeting him where he is at ohhhh myg od

and then when it is finally his time to address her directly he looks her right in the eye, his face is calm and not wretched like before when he looked upon mythal, im literally so sick over this look like how long has it been since they stood face to face like this, 8 years????? i havent even gotten into the way his face is bloodied and bruised like this is so vulnerable im literally dying i dont even remember what my point was with writing this i just needed to scream about it. i think mythal's presence here gives so much context to solavellan's dynamic. seeing how he is with mythal versus with lavellan back to back, how mythal speaks down to him while lavellan literally looks up to him. also something something about how lavellan offers him forgiveness while mythal offers him freedom. maybe i can make these thoughts more coherent in like a week from now but right now im running on 3 hours of sleep and pure dopamine. this scene is so fucking crazy i love it.

[chickren]

hiii, could you elaborate on jaime's relationship with tywin in the books? and how tywin's introduction in the show diverges from that? 🥺👉👈

lol because that scene never happens in the books?

because nothing like it really happens in the books?

lmao, because, the first time we see any real sign of tywin and jaime’s relationship it’s tywin saying ‘tyrion, why do you suck while jaime is a god?’

it’s such a disservice to tyrion and cersei to pretend that jaime doesn’t have tywin’s approval, or perhaps even admiration.

unlike that weird season 1 deer scene, in the books tywin doesn’t blame jaime for being in the kingsguard. that’s aerys’s fault as far as tywin knows. after all, if tywin himself couldn’t prevent it, how could jaime? (sure we know better, but tywin doesn’t.)

and do you think tywin isn’t proud of jaime for killing aerys? do you think tywin wasn’t thinking ‘that’s my boy’ after the sack of king’s landing? that shit was right in tywin’s wheelhouse.

and then there’s the one interaction we see between jaime and tywin. jaime walks in knowing what he’s facing with twyin vs tyrion. that’s because jaime has always had tywin’s number in a way cersei and tyrion never did. why? because jaime has seen what tywin is capable of and he doesn’t like it. jaime quite literally takes tyrion’s kidnapping in agot into his own hands because he doesn’t trust tywin to look out for tyrion. as he’s on his way back to king’s landing in asos he thinks about just what he’s actually worth to his father and how much that calculation has taken a hit now that he’s short a hand.

so when tywin asks jaime to give up the kingsguard, does jaime hang his head and scuff his toe like his show counterpart? lmao. this is the difference in privilege between jaime and his siblings. jaime immediately says: noooo. and means it. not only means it, but from that moment starts plotting against tywin and cersei to save tyrion.

we see this reinforced when cersei begs jaime to save her from tywin’s machinations to marry her off again and he’s like, lol, tell that bitch no. to jaime it’s a very simple, very accomplishable thing if you don’t give a shit about tywin’s disapproval.

because jaime’s been walking away from tywin since he was a kid.

the only moment jaime even wavers in that interaction with his dad is when tywin disowns him. lol and that is not about approval. it’s because all jaime wants in the world is love, and up to this point love was a thing that existed exclusively in the realm of his family.

and lest there be any doubt, i ask you, who breaks first? the last real thing jaime hears from his father is a message sent through kevan. a peace offering, in the form of oathkeeper. here it is, son, the valyrian steel i’ve been trying to reclaim for the fam for years. it’s yours. you’re my boy.

and what does jaime do with tywin’s sword? lmao. i ask you. what does jaime do with tywin’s sword?

see, book!jaime’s story with tywin is not about tywin’s disapproval of jaime. it’s about jaime’s disapproval of tywin. it’s embedded in his chapters. it’s embedded in his character. everything about jaime’s latent lust for honor is a repudiation of twyin’s ethos.

he disapproves of tywin’s use of gregor clegane and amory lorch. he disapproves of tywin’s orders to kill aegon and rhaenys. any lack of understanding of tywin’s nature is destroyed by the tysha incident, which appalls jaime.

he isn’t looking for tywin’s approval. all he ever wanted was tywin’s love.

all of this is reinforced in feast. it’s everywhere in jaime’s vigil for tywin as he tries to do his duty but can’t cough up a single tear and even chucks the appearance of grief out the window when his living breathing son, who he definitely feels late breaking affection for, needs him. it’s when he looks around the realm and goes oh shit, this would have been tywin’s problem but now it’s mine and uses tywin’s reputation to accomplish his goals without actually employing tywin’s monstrous ruthlessness.

but mostly we know the whole show concept that jaime’s just always been trying to earn tywin’s approval is bullshit as far as book!jaime is concerned, because we’ve read jaime’s chapters and we know the truth.

it’s joanna’s disapproval that literally haunts jaime. not tywin’s.

[marvelfanfics1]

Scary Admirer

Pairing: dark!daddy!rafe x kook!little!reader

Warnings: age regression, dark themes, murder, stalking, reader is naive

A/N: not sure if I like this 😭 but omg thank you sm for 4,3k followers 🥹🫶🏻

Rafe laid eyes on you two months ago when he spotted you at a party, admiring you dance and twirl in your pastel colored dress, two small bows decorating your simple hairstyle.

You seemed so soft, such a contrast to his appearance and personality which is the reason he felt so drawn to you in the first place.

In that very night he introduces himself to you, putting on his charming smile as he holds out his hand. "Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you..." He trails off and you tell him your name with an adorable smile, shaking his hand.

He repeats your name in a murmer, testing it on his tongue.

Since then he made it his mission to get to know you more, not that you already share practically everything with him because you feel like you can trust him.

Your friends keep warning you to stay away from him, saying that the kook prince is bad news and that you should be wary of him.

Despite your better judgement you think that they just don't really know him, I mean he's so nice to you since the beginning and there must be a reason he shows that certain side of him to you only.

You like Rafe and you both start getting closer, spending time with each other but you're just friends doing things they normally do, right?

Oh if only you knew his true intentions.

Rafe studies everything you do, your routines, appointments, the people you surround yourself with and he goes furious anytime he sees you talking to a pogue, especially if it's a man, you being your usual bubbly self while that prick keeps staring at your chest shamelessly.

He often has to protect you as he claims, scolding you for being too trusting with everyone and suggest that you should stay near him for your own safety.

When the news of recent killings in Kildare goes around about witnesses who saw a person completely dressed in black and wearing a ghostface mask leaving the crime scenes, you started to not leave your house as much as before, avoiding going out after it gets dark.

The thing that scares you the most is that you have some kind of connection to every person that has been killed.

Since those deaths you've been regressing a lot more due to the fear and stress that comes with anytime you turn on your tv or scroll on your phone because no one can stop talking about it.

It took Rafe three weeks to find out about your age regression, only able to confirm his suspicion after you started inviting him over more often and he got the possibility to go through your room whenever you left to either go to the bathroom or get something.

He went through everything.

Your drawers where he found a certain one that only held more childish clothes with different prints and all in pastel colors.

Under your bed where he found a box decorated with stickers and took a peek of its contents, a smirk forming on his face when he sees a set of pacifiers, coloring books and crayons, stickers, and a bottle.

"Interesting..." He mutters, quickly pushing the box back under your bed when he hears your footsteps approaching the room again.

One evening you lay on your stomach on your plush bed and coloring contently in your hello kitty books with some crayons sprawled around, not knowing about the dark figure looming in your yard and watching you through your window.

Rafe smiles as he sees you reaching under your bed to retrieve a pacifier from your secret box, slipping it into your mouth.

He pulls out his phone, his mask and knife held in his other hand as he snaps a few pictures of you.

You're blissfully unaware of your supposed friend being literally outside, too engrossed in your littlespace.

Outside Rafe sees you getting up from your bed and over to your attached bathroom, closing the door behind you. That was his chance.

Rounding the house to the front door he crouches down for the spare key that he knows is hidden under the mat.

After finishing your night routine in the bathroom you open the door again, yawning as you approach your bed, stopping in your tracks at the printed out pictures laying on your bed.

Taking a better glance at them your heart beats faster when you realize they're all pictures of you...some where you're in your room, others from when you were walking around Kildare or at parties, and what made your stomach drop was the ones where you obviously were in littlespace.

"Nice shots, don't you think?" A sudden low distorted voice from behind you has you freezing and before you could react, a hand clamped over your mouth, a broad chest pressing against your back. "Shh, shh, none of that."

You whimper in fear, instinctively reaching up to grasp onto the arm that was holding you against the stranger.

"I've been watching you for a while now, y'know. Tell me, isn't it tiring to take care of yourself? To know that no one will be good enough to be your daddy?" He asks and you feel tears pricking in your eyes. "All those idiots I got rid of just because they didn't know how to treat someone as special as you..."

Your muffled pleading makes him chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"Imma let go of you now, but don't try and think of anything stupid, got it?" He warns you, his hold on you a little firmer and you nod shakily. "Good girl."

He takes off his mask, throwing it on the bed before he pulls his hand away, taking a step back. Even if you wanted you wouldn't get out a single sound, too afraid to even move.

The you so thought stranger places a hand on your shoulder, slowly turning you to face him and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach at who's standing in front of you. "R-Rafe?"

You take a hesitant step back, the back of your knees hitting your bed. "I- I don't understand...wha-"

"I know, but you don't need to worry." He speaks softly, stepping closer and reaching a hand up to trace the side of your face with his fingers, grabbing your chin to tilt your head up slightly to meet his gaze, a smile creeping on his face.

He gently wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb, leaning down to kiss your forehead, the action meant to be comforting but the words that leave him do the opposite.

"Daddy's here now..."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[demaparbat-hp]

When I saw you making For the Spirits art I was so excited, wow, one of my favourite artists is reading this too, how nice!! Then I realised you’re actually the author and I just want to ask, how?? Are you so talented???? I love this fic and I love your art so so much, thank you for sharing it all with us. Can’t wait for the next update!!

Ah, thank you! This is literally so sweet! For the Spirits (adding a link for the curious folks out there!) is my love child. This project owns my heart and soul, and it's truly so rewarding that you like it! I want to sketch so many different scenes, really, but I'm doing my best to give you some quality artwork of my favorite moments in the story. It's a slow process.

As for next chapter—soon! I'm working on some sketches for this particular scene, and I am so excited to share it with everyone! Things start to pick up from here... But, for now, have a (very little) sneak peek ❤️

Zuko stood at the end of the world, surrounded by miles of snow and the resounding echo of his own shallow breaths. He took everything in, closed his eyes to receive Agni’s light, and howled.

Something howled back, and he smiled.

[stirpicus]

Hello :)

I was wondering, how do you figure out how to connect fleshed out plot points? I feel like when I write, it’s very easy to come up with the scenes that give me the most brainrot, but when it comes to “now how DID blorbo get from accepting their feelings about cake to fighting the bad guy?” I struggle. What IS the middle of a story? Is there something we're supposed to do with it or is it just.. idk😭

..also (im so sorry: i know its like ten years old and u literally have 5k backed up questions but i only found out about it a few months ago) ellegaard was making a command block? thats very cool and very scary, how do u think she wouldve used it, versus soren?

There's a storytelling rule I learned ages ago that applies here, and it's the power of two very simple words:

BUT and THEREFORE

When you're constructing a story, every scene/plot point should be followed by BUT or THEREFORE. Ideally alternating.

Like so!

Mx. Blorbo wants to bake a cake BUT

They go to the kitchen and discover they have no sugar! THEREFORE

They go to their nice neighbor to ask for some BUT

The nice neighbor is not home! THEREFORE

They have to go to the store. BUT

On the walk to the store they're attacked by ninjas! THEREFORE

They have to run away from the ninjas to hide BUT

And so on.

The other piece of this puzzle that you may be forgetting is that every plotpoint or scene needs to ALSO have structure. So "Mx. Blorbo wants to bake a cake" isn't as simple as writing a scene that starts with them saying "Time to bake a cake!"

That scene would probably go:

Mx. Blorbo is feeling sad and realizes it's because they're hungry

What they're craving is cake, but that seems like a lot of trouble.

They go through some other options of what they'd like to eat but nothing sounds appetizing.

They finally realize that nothing else will match the craving for cake. Therefore, they'll just need to make one.

See how even when just breaking down that simple scene we had a few BUTs and THEREFOREs?

That's because all story needs to be driven by what a character WANTS and the OBSTACLES and RESULTS connected with that want. Start thinking about your story that way instead of disconnected plot points and it'll go way smoother for you I bet!

[smolbeanie1221]

Wait shit. Gabriel being alive… or some other freak alternate reality/djinn fantasy world or something… something like that would allow me to accept the ending as “canonical” but actually it being a false ending… holy shit this is genius.

So… Cas gets killed/absorbed by the Empty… then I remember people saying no one knows exactly how long it was after Cas’ death that Dean dies, whether it was days months or years. This could be explained by some freak monster trick thing like Gabe or a djinn or something, time becomes blurred. Then… Dean dies and supposedly goes to heaven, blah blah blah… what if Dean did die during this freak monster trick thing, but Sam survives longer for whatever reason, so he “lives” longer in this fantasy alternate world. Then there’s the reunion scene in Heaven I think… what if that is when Sam is on the edge of literally going into the light, where his fantasy world and reality are blurring together, because fake fantasy Dean in Heaven and real dead Dean in Heaven are both waiting for him. And then, the fantasy and reality begin to break each other apart, causing Sam to suddenly break out of the fantasy completely and wake up, but he is really almost dead. And he thought he had heard Dean calling to him, but really it was Eileen or Claire or another hunter who had just killed the monster and were desperately trying to keep him from slipping away into death. HOLY SHIT THIS WORKS!

And so then… Sam and everyone else frantically find a way to bring Dean back to life. This is only possible because Jack has already lost one dad, and even tho he really shouldn’t be allowing the Winchesters to cheat death even more, he ignores their efforts to bring Dean back thereby allowing it to work. Even tho he really should have blocked that from being possible.

Dean… while he was in heaven, he was frantically trying to figure out how to save Cas. And when he returns to life, that’s his number one goal, and then they all go and save Cas! Omfg this is incredible. Except now I’m gonna have to commit brain cells to watch Supernatural all over again… but still!!!!

Spn season 16. It opens with a close up shot of gabriels face, who has been alive the whole time. The entire finale was a practical joke on everyone and they save cas and Dean and cas make out sloppy style and everyone lives a happy ever after. The end.

[bidisasterevankinard]

"Soulmate 3s au where Tommy accidentally tells Buck about Daniel"

I'm *sat* and listening

ok so here's a little pasrt of the main scene of the fic

“Hmmm, I’d said a broken shoulder for Tommy around two years ago. It felt so bad I cried for hours and it wasn’t even my pain,” Evan says, frowing his pretty face.

Tommy nodded remembering how bad it felt. He was hiking with a friend, till he saw a kid and danger and rushed to help. He did of course, but managed to fall from the three, breaking his shoulder. 

“I’d really wish to be here for him,” the smile that Evan sends him makes Tommy swallow so many words he wants to screen from roofroped but he’s not sure Evan is still ready for it. He’ll ask. Soon. For now just having Evan in his life is enough.

“And now the most interesting part of our program today, let me bet, it was the truck that literally was on your boy’s leg,” Howie winks and Maddie nudges his shoulder when Evan throws a napkin at him saying “too soon man”.

“Nuh, first you said the worst  pain when we weren't around. I was there helping to save him and all the rehabilitation,” Tommy says and everyone nods. He knows it's the perfect opening and he goes for it. Because he needs to be absolutely sure Evan is fine after what happened to him when he was 6 months old. And he just needs to know what exactly it was. He can’t live without knowing anymore.

“But it’s definitely his worst pain since he was 6. But no, I’d wish I was there for him when he was 6 months old and going through the worst pain that any baby should never feel. Can I know what it was by the way? Were you sick and needed some kind of treatment?” he looks at Evan who looks shocked at him. Everything is silent while Evan tries to find his words.

“To-Tommy, what yo-you talking about?”

“About the awful pain in your leg for a long time and aches for days after. I was 7 but still remember how I was crying in my nonna’s hands for hours.” Tommy says not seeing any recognition on Evan’s face.

“I was in the hospital when I was a baby just for check ups and vaccinations. Tell him Maddie” Evan turns to Maddie who looks like she sees the ghosts. “Maddie?” Evan’s voice changes to suspicious and his eyes go red. “ Do-do you know anything about this?”

Maddie puts her glass that she was holding not moving, turning to look at evan with her lip bitten and Tommy already knows he should have never asked. Because the truth seems too big to know. But at the same time? He is happy he asked. Evan deserves to know.

“You were in a hospital for your checkups and vaccinations, but not only,” Maddie swallows with tears in her eyes. “You were a healthy baby, but,” he voice cracks, and next thing she whispers if not the silence in the loft no one could have heard it, “Daniel wasn’t. He was our brother, Evan. He … he had leukemia. We-we basically lived in the hospital.”