#oh my god would you look at that. early posting!!!!
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xxnashiraxx · 15 hours ago
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With Stars to Fill My Dream (13) - Moving Through the Silence Without Motion
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Whew- sorry, this one took longer than anticipated!! I was on vacation last weekend and couldn't make the last-minute changes I wanted to make that would have allowed me to post on Tuesday, but it's all done now! â˜ș Back on schedule!
✧˖ Release Schedule: Every 2 Weeks ˖✧
Summary: The camp deals with the aftermath of their encounter with the dream visitor, and a certain fluffy friend joins their odd group of misfits. Ofelia experiences another embarrassing predicament, and their party finally enters the goblin camp to face down the three leaders and clear the way for the tieflings in the Grove. Branded by a priestess, rediscovering the luxury of coffee, and sharing a sweet opportunity with her favorite fanged companion aren't enough to cushion the blow of reality all while Astarion tries to sort through emotions he would rather not address.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.
Word Count: 7,603
AO3
Took some fun screenshots!! Please enjoy the opening below the cut ❀
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✧˖Tag List: @khywren @allymcfee
“Are you alright?” Shadowheart pokes her face into Ofelia’s tent, pale and clammy. Ofelia scrambles to wipe her tears away, nodding and meeting the half-elf’s eyes.
“Yeah
 I think so
 did you see it too?” Shadowheart’s lips set in a firm line, nodding softly.
“We all did. Here, it’s dawn
 come out. Let’s all sit and talk around the fire.”
Ofelia heeds Shadowheart’s suggestion, pulling her boots on and fixing her hair into a loose bun, resolving to bathe before they start the day. Officially. She hesitates, once again finding her return to her bedroll to be a mystery.
The last thing she remembers is swaying in Astarion’s arms, thinking about how pretty he looked under the light of stars, music from her own world making her feel like they were in their own pocket in time, separated from the tadpole, the cult, all of it. She remembers wishing he’d been from Earth, that way she’d want to go back
 And try as she might, she can’t bury these stupid feelings.
Her face flushes in shame at the memory of pressing that kiss to his cheek, that pang of longing when he hadn’t shoved her away but instead gazed at her in surprise
 It makes forgetting that it happened ten times worse. Then she returned to her tent, somehow, a faint feeling of unease now clouding her mind. How did she get back? Did she go back alone? She can’t shake the feeling that she’s missing something important, but she can’t put her finger on what it might be

She walks out into the early dawn, stunned to find another surprise- a welcome one at that.
“Scratch!” Ofelia crumples to her knees as he runs up from beyond the outskirts of their camp, the rest of her groggy companions yelping or jumping out of the way as the dog barrels into her. “Oh, I’m so glad you're safe!” She mumbles into his fur as it pokes her neck and cheek and he nearly knocks her backward. He licks her face and barks and she scratches his ears, giving him little kisses on the snout and top of his head.
“Is that a dog? Oh my goodness!” Karlach cries tearfully, bringing a stick over. She seems to be talking to Scratch, but all Ofelia can hear are soft yips and excited growling. “He says he wants to stay if we’ve got the room?”
“Oh my god of course he can stay!” Ofelia sobs, wiping her eyes as Scratch licks the happy tears off her cheeks. “I love him so much,” She sniffles to Karlach and the two of them giggle and lead Scratch over to the fire as the rest of their companions huddle around.
“In addition to Lae’zel, we’re letting more than one mangy mutt stick around?” Astarion frowns, a sour look on his face. Ofelia scoffs as Gale hands her a steaming cup of tea, watching Lae’zel do no more than grunt and roughly shoulder the vampire out of the way on her path toward the fire. His affronted yelp and subsequent snarl make Ofelia laugh under her breath as she smiles at Gale in thanks and hands Scratch a couple of hunks of sausage from their stock.
“You all were approached in your sleep by the same visitor, weren’t you?” Astarion mutters, lips still twisted in displeasure. Ofelia regards his unkempt head of hair with an amused smile, feeling privileged to see him before he’s had a chance to put himself together for the day.
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prskfancams · 2 months ago
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gacha: SUPREME SPORTY; event: Work Out and FLY! Muscle Training!
like and/ or reblog🆒, credits🆒, claiming as own❌
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sleepyseals · 1 year ago
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[Image Description: Two unfinished digital paintings / sketches of the hatchling and Hal from outer wilds. they are standing with their arms around each other and the hatchling has their head leaning on hal's shoulder as hal watches the supernova in the distance through the doorway of the museum. the first image is the scene viewed from behind with everything lit in bright blue with dark shadows. the second image shows hal's face looking in fear towards the light and is only partially colored, the rest sketched over a gray background. End Image Description.]
something you'll run back in for when the house burns down
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veth-brenattos-mental-state · 4 months ago
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Still fascinated that the m9 TV shows current official description talks about the beacons + the way they keep bringing up how excited they are to show offscreen political stuff when they're still working on s1. Is the plan to show the assembly (and possibly the dynasty) having political discussions seasons before the nein know or care?? Ik people have been talking about this for essek reasons but im much more interested in the narrative implications of that choice. Early c2 would have a much different feel to it! I'm not sure I'm fully on board with it but it's a very bold choice and I'm really curious how things will work out if they do go down that path
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maybe-a-gatto-or-a-catto · 22 days ago
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It's really funny that fandom convinced me I shipped pairings romantically even though I was wildly uncomfortable with the idea of them interacting in that way
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trans-leek-cookie · 8 days ago
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comes out of the "googling things about the disorder you have and then googling a vague medical term and not getting a clear answer and complaining about the vagueness of the term to your friend who probably has more familiarity with the term and it's implications in context" session covered in blood and wailing and writing on the floor
#Anyway I have not gotten more than 2 paragraphs in to a study talking about how thyroid disorders can potentially cause#Permanent Consequences To Brain Development if they aren't treated at important times. And I struggled because they used#The term ''adult onset'' and looking it up was vague and like it SAID ''post puberty'' but the same definition said#''later in life'' and that part was HIGHLIGHTED BY GOOGLE so I missed the puberty part but even beyond that#Hypothyroidism is most commonly diagnosed in ppl who are like 50+ I believe so does ''later in life'' mean ''not a child'' or#''genuinely middle aged'' in this context specifically because stuff talking about hypothyroidism mostly talks about it either#In terms of Congenital Hypothyroidism and Hypothyroidism (which they mention is most common in ppl assigned female at birth and like 60+)#So there's barely anything talking Abt ppl like Me who got diagnosed in their Mid Teens so probably Mid Puberty and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#I'm going to drive into a lake. Thank you to my best friend ever for breaking down the term and how it's used in medical contexts for me#I owe you my life#Anyway part of the reason this was so fucking Much: thing I'm reading (like an actual medical study) mentions that the cognitive issues#Associated w ''adult onset hypothyroidism'' are largely reversible but before then untreated hypothyroidism can have significant effects on#Brain development and while I caught mine early and got medicated when I was ~18 I had a gap in treatment#Bc I aged out of my pediatrician and didn't have the motivation to actually Get A New Doctor As An Adult (yay mental illness)#Which like. Lead to a Months Long gap in medication. And like I could've BEEN medicated if I put in the work but I felt fine with skipping#My meds bc from what I knew about hypothyroidism it obviously had Symptoms but not ones that would have Significant Long Term Consequences#Like I thought ''oh I'll have depression and fatigue when I'm unmedicated'' NOT REALIZING THAT BEING UNMEDICATED COULD HAVE A SIGNIFICANT#LONG TERM IMPACT EBCAUSE OF HOW IMPORTANT THE THYROID IS TO FUCKING EVERYTHING IN YHE GOD DAMN BODY#THAT EVEN PROPER FUTURE MEDICATION COULD NOT NECESSARILY TAKE CARE OF#And like hey: maybe that's on me for not connecting the dots or something. Maybe I knew the thyroid controlled a lot of hormones but#I just didn't make the connection that that means it can have Permanent Irreversible effects when left untreated#But also HEY THIS IS THE KIND OF SHIT YOU SHOULD SPELL OUT TO PEOPLE ESPECIALLY PEOPLE WHO MIGHT HAVE COGNITIVE DIFFICULTIES AND THEREFORE#STRUGGLE WITH THINGS THAT SHOULD BE ''OBVIOUS''. Anyway I'm mad
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heartswithinreach · 2 months ago
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your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:
can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol
LaDS casually carrying MC
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Xavier
The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.
And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on — metaphorically and literally.
You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the cafĂ©, I don’t want you to get tired..."
You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.
You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.
Rafayel
"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"
He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.
Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.
"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."
When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.
Zayne
“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”
Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.
But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.
He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.
Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."
Sylus
Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.
Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.
Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.
However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.
"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."
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madelynraemunson · 8 months ago
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pass the salt ‱ e.m. smut
DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER
part two here
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summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him
and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.
authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI
disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple đŸ«¶đŸŒporn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks
NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink
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The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.
Dad never cooks.
For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.
Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.
Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.
“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”
The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.
Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.
The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.
“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”
When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.
You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.
Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.
“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”
"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."
The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.
There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.
When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.
You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.
Eddie's no better.
It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match

Of course, this is all an assumption
Not that he caught wind of it or anything.
“You know
” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”
“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.
“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”
“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.
And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.
“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.
Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.
Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.
“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”
“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.
“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”
“You don’t say
” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.
Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning
reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.
Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.
Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.
You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.
“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”
“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.
Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.
“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”
“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.
“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.
The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.
“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.
“Nothing, why?”
“You just looked stunned.”
“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”
“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”
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The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.

Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.
“Well don’t you look absolutely darling
” he says as he peers up from his guitar.
“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”
“You are so welcome.”
Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around
the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.
ïżœïżœOr when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.
While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.
“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”
And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.
“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”
And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.
“Yes, yes I did.”

And then there’s dessert after dinner.
Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.

The final instance takes the cake.
“What’s your major?”
You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.
“History.”
“Sounds boring.”
“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.
“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”
Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.
“Oh my god!” you yelp.
Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.
Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.
Phew. Crisis averted.
Your eyes meet again.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”
“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”
You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.
But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.
Slam!
Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.
“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”
———
To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.
“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”
You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.
“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie
”
You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.
So, so wrong. But oh, so right.
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You’re anticipating
waiting
aching for Eddie to make the next move.
He doesn’t.
“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”
Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.
“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.
“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.
“Mhm,” you nod.
“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”
“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.
——
Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.
Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.
“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.
“Mmm
not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”
Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.
You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”
Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.
He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”
Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.
But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.
“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.
“Yeah,” you breathe.
“Good
” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.
You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer
and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.
You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.
A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"For what?”
You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.
“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.
“I’m not,” you insist.
“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”
He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.
“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”
“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”
Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.
Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.
“Oldest trick in the book.”
You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.
“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.
“No, Eddie.”
“Didn’t think so.”
He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.
His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.
"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"
Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.
The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that
 with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.
Fuck.
Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.
“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”
Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.
“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."
You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.
“Oh.”
Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.
You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.
"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”
You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.
A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.
"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."
And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.
"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.
He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.
That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.
And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.
“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”
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The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.
You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.
“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”
And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.
The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.
“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”
You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,
“I was just tryna help her out.”
3K notes · View notes
love-belle · 4 months ago
Text
looked for stars and i found a supernova !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which it takes a random song drop and a feature from a university student for their relationship to come to light.
or
for when it became true, opposites do attract. ˚ àŒ˜â™Ą â‹†ïœĄËš
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!sargeant!reader
warnings - language
author's note - i am SO sorry i have no explanation for not posting except for the fact that i am now unemployed (i finished hs and don't start college till like august) and i just do Nothing the entire day. i love u all thank u for sticking around <3
≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilymhe and 729,816 others
yourusername boys are SO stupid and it's so endearing and frustrating like u r such a DUMBASS pls let me kiss u on the lips (i did ❀)
8,628 comments
username hahahah!!! funny joke babe!!! kids and i and our goat miss u ❀
username and like just that my bisexual ass cried tears (i never had a chance)
-> username she's for the girlies every man back OFFFFFF
username going insane over this
username i know logan is in shambles rn like that brother is distraught
-> yourusername he hasn't stopped calling me i had to block his number
-> logansargeant UNBLOCK my number i am your BLOOD
-> yourusername fuck off i will call mom
-> logansargeant have you ever known sanity in your life
-> yourusername have you ever felt loved
-> yourusername sorry can u please tell mom to stop yelling at me it's scary ok
-> username she did NOT need to do him like that
-> username oh that was FOUL
username she's so pretty i simply cannot believe a man can rizz her up
username do we ignore y/n violating her brother like that orrrrr
-> username u are an only child it seems
-> logansargeant it's just that she's mean
-> yourusername go and drown in a pond since u wanna act like a silly goose
username why is charles in the likes he don't even follow her
-> username i have the most funniest and silliest theory and im afraid saying it out loud will send logan into early retirement
alex_albon evil laugh
-> yourusername i pay u ENOUGH. any more and i will have to involve my lawyer WHAT DO U WANT
-> alex_albon ferrari has exceptional pasta
-> yourusername ahahahhajaha what's that got to do with me u little clusterfuck of a twink
-> alex_albon oh! absolutely nothing!
-> username i am screaming what the fuck
-> username "little clusterfuck of a twink" OH MY GOD
username crazy how everything she says is so real idk if that's the fan in me or i am just way too fucking down bad for her
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username love love LOVE see this rep bc my man is such an idiot but it's ok cus he's my princess
-> yourusername YOU GET IT !!!!! he's my princess <3
logansargeant what are you doing
-> yourusername tryna slut him out n then build a lego set w him
-> logansargeant i always knew you would be the one to bring generational shame to our family what is this behaviour
logansargeant what happened to "if i ever talk to a man again i want you to be disappointed in me" ?
-> yourusername u were disappointed in me nonetheless fym
-> logansargeant i
-> maxverstappen1 i can tell we would be great friends yourusername
-> logansargeant no way
logansargeant what happened to BIOLOGY you were supposed to be STUDYING
-> yourusername i did study
-> yourusername his anatomy
-> alex_albon logan just deleted this app i hope you're happy
-> username Y/N PLEASE HESITATE
-> username CRYINF SHE'S SO UNHINGED
username the way i can feel logan's mortification through the screen 😭😭
username when will it be me
username love to see women in stem (seducing the enigmatic men) idk im proud of her i know she was crying abt not finding the love she read bout
-> yourusername this might be my favourite comment ever i adore u
username prophecy be looking a bit too permanent đŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€Ł who's gonna change it đŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€Ł i am on my KNEES đŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€ŁđŸ€Ł
username everyday i learn something new about y/n and everyday i praise the lord that i can exist at the same time as her
*liked by charles_leclerc*
≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 2,629,916 others
charles_leclerc you're in her dms, i wrote a song for her in under a day when we weren't even dating. we are not the same.
12,628 comments
username CRYING WHAT THE FUCK
username oh my god is this real
username CRYING THE SONG IS TOO GOOD
username HIS VLOCE JIS VOICE HIS VLICE HIS VOICE
username going crazy rn what the fuck
username HELLO?????? WHAT IS THIS
username need me a man like this thank u
username too much unpack he has a GIRLFRIEND and it's Y/N
-> username HE PULLS??? HE PULLED HER???
username this is life altering
username shaking from excitement i cannot WAIT for logan to download instagram again and be Surprised
landonorris disgusting
-> charles_leclerc forgive me for not wanting to hide my love â˜č
-> username NAH WHO GOT HIM LIKE THIS
username "thinking bout her eyes every hour she's my wildflower" OH HE'S IN LOVEEEE LOVE
username his voice oh my god
-> username tears dripping down my thighs
-> username OHMYGOD
maxverstappen1 "we are not the same" thank god
-> charles_leclerc bubonic plague 🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠🩠
-> username nurse he's out đŸ—ŁïžđŸ—ŁïžđŸ—ŁïžđŸ—Łïž
-> username nah who got him being funny
-> username DID PEOPLE SERIOUSLY NOT LISTEN TO THE SONG
-> username NO WAY THAT'S Y/N AT THE END
-> username "okaaaaaaay" CRYINF I LOVE THEM
username my life has been divided into before this song and after this song and im so grateful for that
username i think the most important thing here is who out of all his friends owns a toyota in which the heat don't work
username crying bc wdym charles wrote a song for his gf when they weren't even dating
username in love with y/n's voice at the end WHY IS THAT SO CUTE
-> username screaming i need this song injected in my veins
yourusername craaaaaaaazy how u never told me that ⁉
-> charles_leclerc details details
yourusername cool song
-> charles_leclerc thank you i wrote it for my girlfriend
yourusername AHSHDHDJJSJSJAJS IN LOVE THIS WAS SO GOOD UR VOICE IS INSANE I LOVE IT SO MUCH
-> charles_leclerc THANK YOU !! ❀
-> username they make me SICK
-> username calm bf đŸ€ hyperactive gf
username the most important question is did logan re download this app
-> yourusername he did but then he saw this post, heard the song and deleted it again
-> yourusername he's just bitter i am bsfs with max before him
-> logansargeant disowned
-> yourusername my grad pic on the mantle BEGS to differ !!!!!! u are on the piano u have no room to talk
-> logansargeant i'm pushing you out of this year's christmas card
≡.;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
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≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 899,527 others
yourusername got him to say he would still love me if i was a worm n now we go on walks and i point at every worm and say sorry i can't be her
tagged charles_leclerc
12,628 comments
username NO WAY THIS JS REAL
username i just want a detailed description of how they met and who asked the other out â˜ïžđŸ˜ž
username my roman empire the fuck
username the way their personalities crash when will it be me
username THE CAPTION IM SCREAMING
username the way she will never let that man know peace and i am so EXCITED
username she's so unhinged i love her
username LET IT ONCE BE ME PLEASEEE
username blocked (im laying on the highway tonight)
username the way i know logan had to be sedated
-> username my man did nothing wrong why are they torturing him 😭
alex_albon we're down one driver at williams
-> yourusername is it a good time to tell u that i recently got my license
-> logansargeant YOU FAILED YOUR TEST 5 TIMES FUCK OFFFFFFF
-> yourusername big emotions
-> username im cryinf what do you mean shw faield the test 5 TIMES ????
username LMAOO THE LAST SLIDE 😭😭😭 I LOVE HER
username parents dare i say
username max is not happy i can tell
-> yourusername i received a very strongly worded message from him yesterday and the only thing i could make out was that he's a bitch for charles like. a BITCH.
-> maxverstappen1 blasphemy
-> logansargeant NO WAY you're buddies with MAX VERSTAPPEN before ME back OFFFFFF
-> yourusername nurse he is out again đŸ—ŁïžđŸ—ŁïžđŸ—Łïž
-> username what are they doing to my boy 😭
logansargeant y/n please. THINK.
-> yourusername i did
-> logansargeant AND ?
-> yourusername he's nice i will keep him
-> logansargeant NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
-> yourusername god forbid a girl wants to date a questionable man
-> charles_leclerc ?
username crazy how this is the most random couple ever and we're instantly like PARENTS !!!!
-> username i for once love them like the cultural clashes we're gonna get heh
charles_leclerc my love please
-> yourusername my pronouns are she not her because i'll never be her đŸȘ±
-> charles_leclerc stop
charles_leclerc and can you please tell your brother to hesitate before speaking? he just offered me candy and a dollar to break up with you
-> yourusername FUCK U I AM WORTH WAY MORE THAN CANDY AND A DOLLAR
-> charles_leclerc that is not the issue here
charles_leclerc pretty girl
-> logansargeant keep your thoughts to yourself you hormonal vulgarian
-> yourusername TIME OUT FOR U let my bf live
-> charles_leclerc this is how my life is going to be from now on?
-> yourusername are u complaining (threatening)
-> username i KNOW logan is shaking behind the screen he just called charles leclerc a hormonal vulgarian
-> username sibling rage takes people places they wouldn't go with a gun
username this is hilarious
username logan's likes on twt are mind blowing like what do u MEAN u wish the plague on ur sister 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
-> yourusername u should see what his texts look like
-> yourusername "you need an excoeciscism for the demon in u it might an issue idk" followed by quora links
-> username siblings ❀
≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by yourusername, logansargeant, carlossainz55 and 2,729,915 others
charles_leclerc silently working on our own little crafts in the same room tonight, queen? ❀
tagged yourusername
11,628 comments
username CRYINGGGGG I HATE HIS GUTS
username LET IT ONCE BE ME HOLY SHITTTTTT
username they're so parents it's insane
username he's so relatable bc i too would be obsessed with y/n
username he definitely has one of those t-shirts that say "i ❀ my gf"
-> yourusername he has one in every colour with diff fonts :((((
-> username GOODBYE
username need me a man who will sit in my general vicinity while we work on our own silly little crafts together
-> username charles might've just set a standard idk NEVER SETTLE FOR LESS
username that text.............im violently ill
username the matching rings wow god really does have favourites
yourusername wait a sec i got 12000% error on my scale
-> landonorris how do you even manage to do that
-> yourusername if u think women don't belong in stem just say that
-> landonorris STOP IT MY PR TEAM IS HUNTING ME DOEN FOR SPROT TAKE JT BACK
-> charles_leclerc shame on you
-> landonorris WJAT DID I DO
-> username crying they're terrorizing people for fun 😭
-> username we deserve this
yourusername fighting demons (a degree that i chose to study) to be on my phone bc my BOYFRIEND posted
-> charles_leclerc don't give logan more reasons to send me vaguely veiled threats
-> yourusername he does WHAT
-> logansargeant sending him links on how people got away with murder is HARDLY a threat idk why you're like this
-> username no way they got him UNHINGED
-> username 😭😭😭😭😭 he's so
yourusername MY BABY LEO 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞
-> charles_leclerc i am right there
-> yourusername so is leo 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞
yourusername are u mitosis bc i never metaphase as cute as urs
-> charles_leclerc i am too dumb to understand this but you are the prettiest
-> yourusername king i am so in love with u
-> logansargeant i judt tfeew up
-> yourusername leave me ALONE
username i hope all the happy couples break up (why couldn't it be me in a relationship)
username SCREAMING HE'S SO DOWN BAD
1K notes · View notes
loveanddeepdick · 27 days ago
Text
gummy bear
❀₊ âŠč childhood bff!yuta okkotsu x f!reader || gummy bear is ur nickname that he gave u as a kid (also, this is yuta when he comes back from africa.. heart eyes)
warnings: both yuta and reader are in their early 20’s, piv sex, creampie, yuta is a virgin but there’s no corruption kink, childhood bffs to strangers to lovers, men turning into putty, lowkey sub yuta, he’s just down bad for you, freaky ass perv yuta but he fries his very best to be respectful to you, reader is implied to have slightly bigger than average boobs but honestly interpret however you’d like, porn with some plot, not revised lol just horny as always
summary: it’s been a while since you’ve seen your childhood best friend, yuta. you haven’t seen him since he left high school to be a sorcerer and although you guys tried staying in touch in high school, you haven’t heard a single peep from him after he left for africa. you understood him, mutually agreeing that you two were simply growing up and exploring new. however, when yuta comes back a new man, you can’t help but feel new feelings growing
â”ˆâ”ˆăƒ»à­š ✩ à­§ăƒ»â”ˆâ”ˆ
you’d recently moved into a new apartment close to your new boring, but nicely paying, corporate job. on a random tuesday afternoon at the grocery store, you bump into a familiar face you hadn’t seen in years, almost not even recognizing him.
“oh shit- i’m so sorry-,” you stumble backwards as you run into what seemed like a human lamp post when you look up to meet a familiar pair of black eyes, accompanied with eye bags. “.. yuta? is that you?”, you almost laugh at the situation, not believing your eyes. he had much longer hair now, deeper eye bags, but still had the same anxious eyes.
“ow.. fuck, hey gummy bear, haven’t seen you in a while,” yuta looks down almost embarassed from his absence. the nickname rolls off his tongue so easily, like it was naturally your name and it makes u slightly blush.
when you and yuta met as kids, he initially introduced himself only because he wanted one of your gummy bears since it was also his favorite snack. he didn’t even learn your name until weeks after you guys were friends, only calling you gummy bear and the nickname sort of just stuck with him. the story always made you let out a dulcet sigh, cherishing the innocent memory.
“it’s not your fault, yuta!” you giggle, “i haven’t been really reaching out either.. i guess we’re both busy. how about we uh, catch up?” you suggest.
â”ˆâ”ˆăƒ»à­š ✩ à­§ăƒ»â”ˆâ”ˆ
it had been a week since you and yuta had been reunited. and you slowly started to notice how attractive he’d grown to be. both you and yuta were sitting on the sole couch inside your nearly empty apartment, unpacked boxes littered everywhere as you procrastinated on putting everything together. enjoying each others presence as you both told stories about things that happened in your lives, you felt a sense of nostalgia washing over you, as if this was what you were missing for so long. you draped your legs over his lap as he lightly ran his hand over them like you guys would always do in high school. would this be something that only best friends did? probably not

“oh my gosh, yu!”, you gasped, almost wiping a tear away, “you went through all of that? on your own?”. he stayed humble of course, shyly brushing it off as if it was no biggy.
he couldn’t help but trail his eyes over to your tight shirt, encasing the tits that he had not noticed back in high school. he swallowed hard, darting his eyes back to your face. the face that had only grown more gorgeous as you moved into adulthood. have you always been so beautiful?
“c’mon, yu, let’s watch a movie, like old times?”, you laugh. he nervously nodded before you took your laptop, propping it on the coffee table since you haven’t installed your TV yet. “sorry for the setup.. erm, well, i mean the lack thereoff”.
“nah, it’s f-fine, gummy bear”, he almost audibly gulped as he thanked god that you couldn’t see him taking in the sight of your ass pointing at him as you bent over to put on a movie. were you doing this on purpose? yuta had never been the perverted type. hell, he’d never even been the romantic type. you were basically the only girl— well, human girl—he’d been close to in his life. he averted his eyes as you turn back around. almost crying out loud as you cuddled into his lap, wrapping a blanket around both of you. like old times, right?
you enjoyed how tall yuta had grown (as well as the rest of him), resting your head in the crook of his neck as your back settled into his chest. “i hope this is comfortable, yu.. we haven’t done this in a while”, you mumble, wiggling to get yourself comfortable as he bites his tongue, praying he didn’t get a boner.
yuta instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your hair, subtly smelling it as he appreciated how your scent never changed. “m’okay, gummy bear”.
you smiled faltered a bit, having a small realization and shifting slightly off of his lap and onto his thigh instead, facing him. “oh god, i really hope you don’t have a girlfriend. we probably shouldn’t be doing this if you do!”, you frantically panicked. yuta responded with a curt shake of his head, his body acting before his mind to pull you back onto his lap.
you sighed in relief, wiggling back to your comfortable spot with more of a bounce than you should’ve. “oh that’s a relief, yu. i really missed you”, you mumbled, leaning back against his as your ass pressed against his groin, your hand subtly grazing his thigh. fuck, if he didn’t have a boner before he definitely had one now.
he slightly shifted you by your waist with his big, lanky hands, praying to god that you didn’t feel his boner. you did.
your eyes widened as you realized that he was getting turned on by whatever you’d been doing. yuta had never been inappropriate with you or even any other girl! your relationship was strictly platonic.. well until now. you wanted him to make up for lost time, for the years he’d been missing from your life. you were on a mission to make him snap.
“mmm, yuta, stop moving me..” you whined, “i was comfortable in my other spot”. you bounced back, landing right on his bulge as he bit back a whine. “yu, what’s in your pocket? i feel it against my butt..! you should probably take it out before i squish it or something”, you tease , rubbing your ass so his cock would slide riiight in between your asscheeks.
when yuta looked down at the sight, he nearly came in his pants. his raging boner was in between your asscheeks which were held in the confines of your sweatpants, his hands gripping at your waist as you slightly rubbed against him. the blanket was covering you from the rest of the room, albeit empty, but it felt like he was a high schooler in their house trying to hide being fucking freaky from their family.
“g-gummy bear, please-“ he was cut off by your hands moving up to cup your tits through your top, yuta almost, almost, gave them a squeeze but he held it in. you had no idea how much of a pervert he had become from seeing you again, pent up from years of no release and being a damn virgin his whole life.
“what, yu? don’t wanna cuddle with your best friend?” you inquire, feigning innocent. he then felt your nipples pebbling up underneath his palm. he hadn’t noticed earlier since it’d been slightly warm but fuck, you weren’t wearing a bra. he threw his head back, feeling like he was a fucking lion clawing inside an enclosure. and you were damn determined to let him out.
you grabbed his hand again, manipulating the pads of his fingers to rub against your nipples through your painfully thin shirt. “never fucked anyone while you were away, yu?”, you whispered as you felt him shake his head behind you.
“thought so. i mean, you can have all the practice you want with me.. right?”. before you could continue he yanked you up, manhandling you so you were pinned down on the couch.
“stop being a tease, gummy bear.. y’know i missed you so much, shit.. and you have the gall to grind on my boner? knowing i’m a damn virgin?” he huffed, his face inches from yours, “please, please, gummy bear. tell me you want this. tell me. if we do this we’ll never be just friends again. please, baby”, he whined.
you grabbed his face with both hands, crashing your lips into his. it felt like a century of pent up feelings had come breaking out like water from a dam. he humped you as if he was a fucking dog, moaning into the kiss. you flip over again, going on top of him as he admired how fucking sexy you looked, hair disheveled, lips slightly swollen, and your lip combo smudged. you scoot down slightly to tug against his pants, eyes widening as his erect, throbbing, cock springing out and slapping against his stomach with a slight pap.
you looked so damn hot and hungry, almost happily touching his cock, but before you could lean down to put your mouth on it, he grabbed your wrist.
“no, no, gummy bear, please, i want it first in your pussy, baby, please”. he sounded so good begging you took off your sweatpants faster than fucking barry allen. he threw his head back with a groan at the sight of your pussy, if he could, he would jump for joy right now but he was too focused on you.
“next time, you’re sitting on my fucking face, gummy bear”, he groaned. next time. you rubbed your pussy on his cock which laid flat against his stomach, his tip leaking precum on his toned abs.
“please, baby, don’t tease me. put it in..” he whined, his hand traveling down to rub at your clit and the other gripping your hip. with a small smile, you lean back, lining up his tip to your entrance, moaning as it caught onto your clit as you rubbed his cock over your hole.
“stop- fuckin teasing.” he grunted as his hips thrusted up, his cock entering your soaking wet pussy as you yelped. he was big. you had some experience with guys in college but no one ever could even reach his caliber of dick. you dropped down completely on his dick, feeling his balls against your ass and his public hair tickling your clit. you didn’t even care that he wasn’t trimmed and neither did he. fuck, he wouldn’t even care if you had a whole forest, i mean, he’s a sorcerer, he’s supposed to explore territory that’s unseen, right?
“fuck yes, yu! you’re so fucking big!” you yelp, beginning to move as you began to grind on his cock. slightly bouncing on it. yutas’s eyes trailed from your fucked out face to your pert tits, allll the way down to your pussy that had enveloped his dick. you almost wished you put some furniture out because all you could hear was the echos of your moans, yuta’s heaving breathing and whining, the squeaking of the couch, and the wet squelch of your pussy. you were definitely getting a noise complaint filed against you.
he thrusted up again and you let out an obscene whine, squeezing his dick which made him let out a loud, strangled moan. you peered down, noticing that he was starting to fucking cry from how good your pussy was.
“y-yu.. are you- ohh fuck, okay?” you bring your hand down to wipe his tears, peppering kisses on his face.
“s-such a good fucking- f.. FUCK.. pussy..” he groaned out, not even believing that his level of pleasure was possible. you were taken aback by his dirty words, but sighed in relief before he started to continuously thrust up, hitting your cervix over and over again.
yuta’s eyes wandered back to your tits, noticing that they’d began to slip out of your skimpy top. with one hard thrust, he almost came on the spot when they bounced out of their confines, nipples erect as your tits jiggled perfectly.
“g-gummy bear you’re so.. shit- perfect!” he shoved his face in between your tits as you let out a strangled moan from the extra pleasure. “perfect fucking tits. made just for me. fuck, thank you for waiting for me.. for not dating some fucking loser
 all for me, yeah? right, gummy?” he lost himself in between your boobs.
“all for you, yuta baby, all for you!”.
“fuck- FUCK- gummy bear, cum with me, i can feel your pussy clenching, please baby, please cum with me”
he gave your tit one more sick before the coil in your stomach snapped, making you squirt for the first time in your life.
“fuck yes, gummy bear, squirt all over me, make a mess, baby yes, where do you want me?”
“i-inside please..” you were nearly crying as well from the overstimulation.
“don’t say that baby- fuck- you drive me crazy, gummy bear, i’m gonna cum in you, fuck yeah,” he groaned before thrusting up harshly one last time, his thrusts calming to slow, shallow humping. he pulled out, admiring how well your pussy took him as you whimpered from the new empty feeling. you huffed, thinking he was satisfied.
“you didn’t think i was done, right, gummy bear?”, he smiled, his almost eerie eyes peering up at you as he pulled you up, making you plop right on top of his face.
“‘gotta keep my promise. my best friend was waiting for me at home all these years, after all”
720 notes · View notes
lxclerc · 8 months ago
Text
𝐬𝐹 đšđŠđžđ«đąđœđšđ§ ─ 𝐩𝐯𝟏
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summary: where max verstappen is the subject of a love song from a singer who never writes love songs pairing: max verstappen x american singer!reader faceclaim: no one specifically but based off olivia rodrigo
note: me? writing max verstappen? smau fluff? on main? everyone look away.
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dailyynupdates
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liked by user33, user4, user16 and others
dailyynupdates yn was seen around monte carlo the past few days, taking pictures with fans and allegedly cozying up with three time world champion max verstappen
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user12 what is going on in the house of commons because this was the last thing i expected
user39 this is quite literally the most random pairing i've ever stumbled across
user91 how do they even know each other 😭 user63 right like...where did this even come from? how did it start? literally how did they meet? they could not be farthest apart in the sphere of famous people
user19 now who the hell is max verstappen and why is he with my wife?
user49 oh girl you have a lot to catch up on the max lore user71 max is a formula one driver user56 saying max is a formula 1 driver like he currently isn't dominating the sport to the point where people hates him saying he's making it boring since he keeps winning because he's just that fucking good that literally no other driver can keep up is kinda wild user10 oh so our girl's new man is good at his job user52 "good at his job might just be the biggest understatement of the century when it comes to max. man's a fucking beast at his job
user48 i dont have to see her with her ratty ex anymore omfg war is over
user93 dare i say...they're adorable
user82 yn being in an age appropriate, healthy relationship? i never thought the day would come
user74 we won for real đŸ„čđŸ«¶
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dailyynupdates
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liked by user23, user31, user69 and others
dailyynupdates max and yn in a video posted by yn's friend 😭
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user93 oh my god look at them 😭
user81 they look so in love i want to cry
user65 "maximillian, do i look pretty like this?" "you always look pretty" i couldn't quite catch what he said at the end but 😭😭😭
user85 dutch here and i believe he said "laiverd" which means darling user75 this means so much to me user65 you just made my entire week
user45 seeing her in love after all the shit men is healing a part of me i didnt know was broken
user53 max fixing her hood then kissing her cheek what if you just stabbed me
user31 every time i see these, i get the urge to take a shot of bleach 😀
sincerelyyn ✓
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liked by conangrey, maxverstappen1, taylorswift and others
sincerelyyn can't have a conversation if it's not all about you
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yourfriend as the other person of those conversations, he's fine i guess 😒
sincerelyyn you know i love youuuuu
taylorswift love seeing you happy ❀
sincerelyyn ❀❀ user73 mother is all of us user63 you know it's real when it's taylor swift approved
conangrey i hate happy couples i hope you both trip đŸ«¶
sincerelyyn die đŸ«¶
user92 their friendship is everything to me
user15 not girlie trying to soft launch like we all don't know who it is 😭
user43 THEYRE SO â€ŒïžđŸ„”đŸ„°âš ïž
user65 you're so right
user24 i'm so happy finally seeing our girl happy 😭
user84 "someday i'll be everything to somebody else" YES YOU ARE BABYGIRL 😭
maxverstappen1
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liked by sincerelyyn, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others
maxverstappen1 my american girl đŸ©·
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charles_leclerc i still can't believe this is happening
maxverstappen1 for someone who don't even follow me, you sure are early to my posts 😒 user91 max gagged him with that im afraid
landonorris please please max talk to her about getting me tickets 😭
user85 lando is just like us fr struggling to get guts tour tickets maxverstappen1 no ❀ landonorris 😔 sincerelyyn @landonorris let me get you in contact with my team đŸ€ maxverstappen1 baby noooo sincerelyyn be nice, max landonorris HELL YEAH THANKS YN user42 this is the crossover i never thought i needed
user66 max posting non racing content and being all soft in the comments for yn in what world am i in
user52 fr i feel like im in an alternate universe 😭
sincerelyyn love youuuu
maxverstappen1 love you more
sincelyyn i never knew love could be so golden till i met you <3
maxverstappen1 mijn hele hart is van jou, schat (you own my entire heart, darling) user42 they mean so very much to me 😭
danielricciardo god the two of you make me nauseous
maxverstappen1 hating because you ain't us danielricciardo im not liking that attitude, kid 😒 user71 daniel is so us
sincerelyyn
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liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, yourfriend and others
sincerelyyn so american will be out on all platforms at midnight. a letter to the man i love, the only way i know how ❀
view all 592,649 comments...
maxverstappen1 i adore you with everything in my being ❀
sincerelyyn ik hou van je (i love you)
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i hope you guys liked this as much as i loved writing it đŸ«¶
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nereidprinc3ss · 9 months ago
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rubber duck
in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!
fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!
Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.  
He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand. 
“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly. 
“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?” 
Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek. 
“I’m fine. I missed you a lot.” 
Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition. 
“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?” 
“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.” 
This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.  
“How long have you been asleep?” 
“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented. 
“10:20.” 
“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep.  "I didn't mean to-"
“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.” 
Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.
“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?” 
He laughs, running a hand through your hair. 
“I don’t even know where you got that number.” 
“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow. 
“Honey, that’s Algebra.” 
You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.  
“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear. 
“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?” 
You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. 
For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?” 
You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt. 
“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.
“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”  
“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.” 
Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.  
“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?” 
“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum. 
“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-” 
“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?” 
Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you. 
“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.” 
Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better. 
“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him. 
He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise. 
“Of course. What do you want to hear?” 
“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.” 
“What? No Jane Austen?” 
“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.” 
A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection. 
“You are utterly ridiculous.” 
“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm. 
“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater. 
“Just get the book, Spencer.” 
“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.  
A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub. 
More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down. 
“Ready to get out?” 
You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air. 
“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly. 
“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.” 
You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up. 
“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.” 
“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.  
“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.” 
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southislandwren · 2 years ago
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Texts that break my fucking heart because I just want to see my old boss again and if it doesn’t work out this week after I missed the September event it’s going to be the fucking death of me :((
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pedroscurls · 22 days ago
Note
The reader and Hugh are in bed in the morning and the reader has to get up for work but Hugh doesn't want her to leave so pulls her back in bed in a big bear hug and she calls In sick 😉
bad influence (one-shot)
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summary: already running late for work, hugh convinces you to call in sick. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader tags / warnings: fluff, brief suggestive sexual content (18+), no use of y/n word count: 913 a/n: to the anon who sent this in - i'm so sorry it took me a while to post this! hope you enjoy regardless. and as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.
You awake with a jolt, glancing at the clock and realizing that you’ve slept through your alarm. You glance over to the man next to you who’s stirring awake at your sudden movements. He’s lying on his back, shirtless with an arm behind his head as his eyes slowly begin to flutter open. 
“Oh my god, I’m going to be late!” you exclaim, trying to scramble out of bed and bringing the sheet with you. Last night had been amazing and you hadn’t expected to spend the night with Hugh. It had only been your third date with him, but throughout the night, there had been a lingering tension of what the night would bring. 
When he invited you back to his place after dinner, you were excited to accept. To be able to spend uninterrupted time with him behind closed doors without worrying about someone asking for a picture or an autograph was something you were looking forward to. You had both been sitting on the couch – you with your glass of wine and him with his – before the effects of alcohol coursed through your veins and gave you the courage to straddle his lap. 
He had looked up at you in surprise, but with an excited look in his eyes. Hugh had immediately rested his hands on your hips and groaned to himself when you pressed yourself further into him. He wanted to be a gentleman, wanted to be respectful of you and your boundaries, but the more time he spent with you, the more he found it difficult to keep the pent up frustration to himself. His hand could only do so much and he was finding that he needed more relief. He needed you. 
So, when you agreed to come over to his place, Hugh was excited. Not only because of what could happen, but because he was starting to like you more and more with each date. He didn’t want to scare you away, but you had promised him that his lifestyle wouldn’t deter you from pursuing a relationship with him. And it was true. When fans came up to him, you gave him the space and distance he needed but also went so far as to offer to take the picture for the fans; you knew how important Hugh’s fans were to him. 
When the paparazzi would follow him, you’d be right there by his side, just as polite and kind as he was. He knew that not many people could fit into his life, especially after the success of Deadpool & Wolverine, but you managed to fit in so well – like you had always belonged by his side. 
And last night
 Well last night was amazing. Falling asleep with you in his arms had lulled him to a deep slumber and it had been a very long time since he had a good night’s rest. Hugh had convinced you to just spend the night, that he’d wake up early today to make sure you leave on time for work, but he was just too comfortable. Too relaxed with you by his side that he had slept through his own alarm too. 
When he hears you mumble under your breath, followed by your sudden movements, Hugh slowly opens his eyes. He sees you from the corner of his eyes lifting the sheet above your chest, covering yourself. He grins to himself, having remembered that you both had fallen asleep naked. 
“What are you doing?” he whispers, the hand behind his head reaching out to gently rest on your lower back as you sit up. 
“I’m going to be late for work, Hugh,” you answer. “I should be at home, already on the way to leave and–”
“Take the day off,” Hugh interjects, eyes gazing up at you. “Spend it with me.”
“Hugh, I can’t. I have a big project that I need to get done.”
“Will it be done today?” Hugh asks.
“Well, no, but–”
“Then at least you’ll have something you can do tomorrow.” Hugh smirks.
You shake your head and go to climb out of his large bed before his arm snakes around your waist to pull you back into bed. He turns on his side and pulls your body flush against him as your back rests against his chest. 
“Hugh
” you whisper, feeling his naked body press against you from behind. You can feel his lower half begin to harden, begin to stir awake at the close proximity. 
“Call in sick, baby,” he mumbles, lips lowering to pepper soft kisses along the back of your bare shoulder. Hugh’s hand slowly dips lower past your abdomen, inching closer and closer to the place between your legs. 
“You’re a bad influence,” you whimper, rolling back into him as your hand reaches down to grip his wrist. 
Hugh grins against you, leaning up to gently nibble at your earlobe. “I’ll take as much time with you as I can get, baby. Now, let me have my breakfast, yeah?” 
You’re about to ask him what he means before he moves to hover above you, lowering himself further and further down the bed until he disappears underneath the sheets. You feel his breath against the inside of your leg and when he licks a stripe up the center of your sex, your back arches and you reach down to grip onto his hair. 
“God, good morning to me,” you whisper, eyes falling shut as you let out a quiet moan. 
---
forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl
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kaleidohscopic · 5 days ago
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TRY AGAIN — JJH
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PAIRING: jaehyun x female reader SUMMARY: if you could have it your way, you'd never have to see, hear, or even think about jeong jaehyun ever again. a fortuitous blind date, and that same dimpled smile after all those years, is somehow enough to make you reconsider. maybe he was always meant to be by your side. GENRE: exes to lovers! au, slight coworkers! au, romance, angst, slow burn, humour, some pining, a touch of smut WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, too many descriptions of coffee and wine, mentions of sex, general mature content and themes, reader is not good at talking about her feelings, joy x doyoung, i try to write about the complexity of relationships and personal growth (i fail miserably) WORD COUNT: 32.4k NOTE: oh. my god. it's finally here! there's certainly something different about writing for your ult. office scenes inspired by the internship i did at a big 4 firm that ended up rejecting everyone from my department (yes i'm still bitter). i actually wanted to get this out back in august to celebrate jolo but alas, Life. i guess this is a parting gift? (jaehyun i am nothing and nobody without you.) i poured a lot of heart into this fic and posting it feels like letting my child go out into the world alone... be safe my darling xx
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You should’ve brought an umbrella. 
The early evening sky was darkening faster than usual, ominous grey clouds hovering between the skyscrapers like an unspoken but imminent threat. Though the ground was still dry, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be for long. Your haste to leave your apartment this morning had robbed you of the good sense to check the weather forecast, mind too preoccupied with tonight’s agenda to spare a thought for the possible torrential downpour that summer seemed to be so fond of. 
A glance down at your feet sent a twinge of annoyance through you. Of course you picked the black pumps to wear today. They were pretty, which was why you had slipped them on in the first place, wanting to make a good impression even if you told yourself you didn’t really care that much, but they were also expensive, and you did not want to get them wet. You said a silent prayer. Hopefully the impending rain would be kind to the leather.
“You better not be flaking,” Joy warned, voice crackling through your phone speaker. “I don’t really care what he thinks of you for not showing up, but it’ll reflect badly on me, and I can’t have that.”
You suppressed a smile. Ever the drama queen.
“I am literally walking out of the station right now. The Italian place, right?” you asked, pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs to gather your surroundings. The restaurant she had picked out wasn’t exactly an unknown location to you, but it had been a while since you last visited, and the buildings seemed to look back at you with a dazed unfamiliarity.
She gave an affirmative hum. “Two streets down from the exit. The reservation is under my name, but I think he might be there already.”
“Yippee. How exciting.”
There was a loud sigh from the other end of the line, and you could almost hear her rolling her eyes at you. “You do know I set this up with your best interests at heart, right?”
“Are you sure it’s not because you were bored and needed to use some poor soul for your own entertainment?”
“Hey, I’m not the one who put three packets of salt in Jungwoo’s coffee,” she fired back. 
Okay, maybe that one was on you. But it had been pretty funny seeing him spit it out all over the office kitchen counter and then meticulously clean up the mess with paper towels, all the while eyeing everyone on your floor with suspicion.
“I’m just saying,” she continued, “give him a chance. I think you guys could really like each other.” There was a pause. “Plus, he’s super fucking hot. Like if I wasn’t happily taken I would be climbing him like a tree.”
“Gross. I’m filing a complaint with HR.”
“Reporting me to my own department? I’ll make sure that file never even makes it through the portal,” she cackled at your empty threat, and you joined in with her. “Seriously though, just give him a chance. At least stay until the mains come out.”
“Fine,” you acquiesced, though you made sure she heard the huff that accompanied it. “But if he starts talking about cryptocurrency I am leaving.” 
Joy only laughed, assuring you he probably wouldn’t, and bid you goodbye with a parting command for you to enjoy yourself. 
On days like these, you couldn’t decide whether you were grateful or unlucky to have been placed on a team with her for your first project at the company. Technically speaking, Joy was your senior by almost two years, but even at that first daily stand-up half a year ago, filled with nervous smiles and clumsy introductions, you had the feeling the two of you would gel. By the time that first project wrapped up, the two of you had long progressed past mere co-workers, having bonded over 8-hour days of Powerpoint formatting and your mutual dislike of olives. You had never been more thankful for someone so vivacious to show you the ropes, and help you settle into the new environment with such ease.
However, Joy was a meddler.
Her meddling was what had you currently navigating the crumbly asphalt in your nicest shoes to meet the apparent hunk she had set you up with. You didn’t know much about the guy since she refused to give you his name, afraid you’d search him up on social media and then make up some excuse to back out once you had seen his face — like you had done with the previous two that she’d picked out for you.
Apparently, this one was from the Digital department, and had been at the company for a little over a year. Those were two out of the three pieces of information that she had deigned to bestow upon you, the third being that he had dimples, which she thought you’d appreciate.
Oh, and now the fourth one being that he was ‘super fucking hot’.
Who knew? Maybe you would enjoy yourself. Getting back into the dating scene was pretty low on your priorities, with your career and trying to stick to a consistent gym routine taking up the majority of your time, but you were never opposed to a bit of fun. 
Maybe Mr Super-Fucking-Hot could be a bit of fun. 
Just take it easy, you thought to yourself, spotting the glass windows of the restaurant as you rounded the corner. Il Giardino, read the sign that hung above the door. Cute.
Hastily, you shifted your bag and cardigan to the other arm and smoothed out the creases in your black trousers. You had tried for something a little dressy, but also office-appropriate since you were coming straight from work, and not like you had tried too hard and spent an unnecessary number of hours thinking about what to wear on this stupid blind date. Another quick glance at your reflection in the window, just to make sure there was no food or lipstick in your teeth, and you pushed past the door.
Soft jazz filtered through your ears as you stepped inside. The restaurant was nicely decorated, a few vintage Italian posters hanging on the exposed brick walls, and an overall rustic feel that paired well with the warm, earthy ambience. Judging by the patrons already seated, this place was a popular date night location, with all but one table occupied by couples sharing soft touches and flirty smiles over half-filled glasses of red wine.
Joy certainly knew how to pick a spot.
You gave the smiling hostess Joy’s name for the reservation, managing a weak smile of your own when she informed you that the other half of your party had already arrived, and followed her through the tables further into the restaurant. Outside, the first few raindrops had begun to splatter against the asphalt, slowly darkening the road with wet patches that were sure to grow into puddles. It seemed you had arrived just in time to escape the rain.
The hostess stopped at a more private table towards the back, and gestured towards the empty seat with that same welcoming smile. Mystery man, aka Mr Super-Fucking-Hot, was sat with his back to you, leafing through what you assumed to be the drinks menu. His silhouette from behind was alright-looking, you supposed, if you really had to put a label to it, but there was something vaguely familiar about the shape of his head. Perhaps you had crossed paths in the office lobby before?
You approached the table, trying to sneak a peek of him out of the corner of your eye, just to see if he lived up to Joy’s oh-so-generous description, without being so painfully obvious—
And froze.
“Is everything alright?” the hostess asked, still beaming at you. 
You barely heard her through the cotton wool that seemed to suddenly fill your ears, hands instantly clamming up as you took in the man in front of you. His warm eyes widened a fraction of a millimetre with recognition, quickly followed by something else you couldn’t place.
This was not happening.
“Is everything okay?” the hostess tried again. The corners of her mouth were beginning to slip, and she cast you a mildly concerned glance.
How strange you must have looked, standing stock-still beside your reserved table like a statue. The only things that could dispel the notion you had suddenly turned into stone were the light flush to your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your own heart that you were sure the whole restaurant could hear.
“Everything’s fine, just give us a minute please,” Jaehyun finally said, flashing the hostess a kind smile. She took her cue to leave, but not without another curious look between the two of you, hurriedly brushing away the waiter who was approaching the table and preparing to rattle off the specials. 
Hearing his voice seemed to break the spell that had rendered you so immobile. You straightened, shifting your bag higher up your shoulder, and turned to leave. Whatever this was, you were not entertaining it.
Chair legs screeched abruptly against the floor. 
“Wait,” he pleaded. 
Your eyes landed on his hand latched around your wrist first, before they moved to his face again. Slowly, his fingers loosened, but he kept you in his hold. 
“Will you sit, please?” he asked softly. 
You looked at him. Really looked at him, taking in his full, straight brows, the slope of his nose, the pinkness of his lips. His cheeks had slimmed since you had last seen him, allowing the sharpness of his jaw to really come through. Breathtakingly handsome as he always had been. A little older, a little more masculine, and yet somehow still the same.
And maybe because you still saw him, the boy that you loved, the first and likely only boy you had ever truly loved, you did sit, sliding into your chair like it was made of ice.
“It’s been a while,” he began, lowering back into his seat. You gave no indication that you had heard him at all, eyes focused on the flickering tealight candle at the centre of the table. The wax was a pinkish red colour, and the light scent coming from it was sweet, with a touch of tartness. Pomegranate, maybe. At your silence, he cleared his throat and tried again. “How have you—”
“Did you plan this?”
He pulled back a bit, as if in genuine shock. “No, I swear, I had no idea it was you. Joy only told me it was someone from her department, and that you were pretty, and she thought you’d be my type.” A pause. “Did you?”
Your reply was icy. “Why would I plan to see you?”
He looked away at that, sucking in a breath through his teeth. You were probably mistaken, but something akin to hurt flashed in those eyes as he gave a short nod at your words. Likely a trick of the light. It was a little too dim in here. What reason would he have to be hurt? Why would he be bleeding when you were the one with cuts all over your hands from picking up the glass shards of your own broken heart?
An uncomfortable beat passed. “Well, I’d say it was nice to see you, but you know I’m not good at lying,” you said. Shouldn’t have sat down in the first place.
Grabbing your bag and cardigan, you made to stand up again, regretting your decision to come here, regretting giving in to Joy so easily, regretting leaving the house this morning without a stupid fucking umbrella. The drizzle outside had turned into a downpour in no time, and the street drains were definitely going to clog up tonight. 
Seoul and its fucking summer monsoon season.
“Can we just—please, can you—fuck. Can we have dinner and just talk? As friends?” His hand shot out across the table, as if itching to grab yours again, but thought better of it, letting his fingertips rest against the edges of the linen napkin you hadn’t even bothered to unfold. 
A refraction of light from his sleeve caught your eye. His cufflinks. He was wearing the cufflinks you had gotten him for your high school graduation all those years ago. 
They had been expensive. Four months of pay from your part-time job at the ice-cream parlour was just enough for the pale pearls set in sterling silver. You supposed it would have been silly of him to throw them away when they were so valuable. It wasn’t like you had thrown away the gold pendant he had given you either. That necklace hadn’t hung around your neck for a long time, but it still sat somewhere in the depths of your jewellery box, underneath all the newer ones you had bought for yourself or received from friends over the years.
“Fine,” you found yourself saying. “Sure. As friends. Why not?” 
Sinking back into your seat, you reached for the wine menu immediately. Enduring the next hour in the company of your ex-boyfriend without a drink? Unbearable. As much as you liked to convince yourself you were over him, from your behaviour tonight it was clear you most certainly were not, and only alcohol could soothe that blow to your pride.
Your eyes flitted down the page of reds, then the whites, then the sparklings. Christ, the prices in this place were not pretty. Joy would have to be in a completely separate tax bracket from you if these were the kinds of establishments she frequented. 
For a brief moment, you thought about ordering the most expensive bottle on the list — a Penfold’s 2018 Shiraz — just to be spiteful, but decided against it. If you were really going to be sharing a meal ‘as friends’, he would not be footing the entire bill. You wouldn’t let him.
The waiter, under the impression that things had somewhat cooled down, finally approached your table, albeit a bit cautiously. Hearing but not really listening, you let him sing praises about the wild mushroom ravioli, ordering it just to save yourself the effort of reading through the rest of the menu. When he reached the beverages portion of his spiel, you settled for a more reasonable bottle, a 2021 merlot.
It was only once he had left to put your orders in that you realised that you had not even checked if Jaehyun was driving tonight.
“I’ll pay for the wine, if you’re not drinking,” you said, fiddling with your napkin. You could probably finish the whole bottle yourself anyway. Maybe that would make it easier to look him in the eye.
“You really don’t need to do that,” he replied, voice soft but firm. The weight of his eyes on you was almost a tangible thing. “I’ll have a glass.”
Your waiter returned, making a show of uncorking the bottle before pouring it out into both your glasses. You couldn’t down the first one fast enough, draining half the contents in one long mouthful like it was your first taste of water after finishing a marathon. Jaehyun was more deliberate with his glass, taking only a few small sips before he set it down on the table again. If he noticed the speed at which you emptied yours, which it was pretty hard not to with the way you were gulping the wine down, he said nothing.
God, this was fucking awkward.
“So,” he began, trying to mask the crack of his voice with a cough, “what made you agree to this thing?”
You reached for the bottle. “Felt like I owed it to Joy,” you said, pouring yourself another glass. “I flaked out of the last two she organised.” 
Maybe you should have just gone on that first one with Taehyung, or Taehyun, or whatever his name was. Then you could have avoided this situation altogether. 
“So you do this kind of thing a lot, then?” came his careful question.
You were curt. “No.” 
He blinked a few times, the movements slow with confusion at the abruptness of your answer. You knew you were being difficult. You wanted to be. Five years could heal most things, but unspoken words could linger like splinters under your fingernails, festering below the surface. Calluses had hardened over the splinters of your breakup, tough and protective, but now it was as if they were pushing through to the surface again, your fingers newly tender at the sight of him after all those years. 
A small part of you wanted to give him a taste of your hurt, wanted him to feel the prick of tiny wood chips in the flesh behind his nail beds. The larger part, however, knew malice would do no good for you. You had survived the pain. There was no reason to survive poison as well.
“No, I don’t,” you tried again, a little softer, a little less jagged around the edges. “I think she just likes to set them up for fun. This is my first time on one of these blind uh
” The word date sat heavy on the tip of your tongue but refused to budge. “One of these things.” Maybe another mouthful of wine would wash it down.
“Her definition of fun can be rather interesting,” he said, politely filling the silence.
You hummed in agreement, raising the freshly filled wine glass to your mouth again as you scrambled around in your head for something, anything to say. It had been a while since you had last been out on the dating scene, and you were well aware of it, but good grief, it was like your conversational skills had evaporated into thin air.
“How do you know Joy?” was what you decided on after a deliberately slow sip.
Thankfully, Jaehyun seemed to still know how to carry a conversation. “She’s one of the HR reps for Digital, so we’ve spoken a few times before. And her boyfriend is a friend from university.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “Have you met him?”
You shook your head lightly. “No, not yet. Hoping to, soon.” 
“You’ll like him. Doyoung’s a great guy. Patience of a saint.”
“He’d have to be to keep up with her,” you said, hints of a chuckle sprinkled in your voice. 
Something about the fact that he was already privy to more of Joy’s personal life than you were had a sliver of jealousy wriggling in your stomach. She was supposed to be your friend, and yet you knew very little about Doyoung besides his name, while your ex-boyfriend across from you had been buddy-buddy with him for probably years and years. Not that it was a competition to see who held more information about their coworker outside the office, but the feeling that you were somewhat losing didn’t sit well.
“It’s actually my first time on a blind date as well,” he said, allowing himself a tentative smile. “You know how convincing she can be. I mean, I don’t think I’d ever go on one if she hadn’t roped me in. It feels a bit silly meeting up with a complete stranger, you know?” He turned his smile to you, still tentative but coloured with a tinge of hopefulness, like he wanted you to understand, like he knew you would. 
How could you not? There had once been a time where you believed that you and Jaehyun had been two halves of the same soul, carved into existence from the same stone. There had once been a time where you knew him almost better than he knew himself. 
A time rather distant from now.
You kept your answer non-committal. “Sure,” you murmured, wishing his pretty face wouldn’t fall so quickly at your nonchalance, wishing you hadn’t caught the slightest droop to the curve of his mouth. Everything about him was still too familiar. “I’m just a bit surprised to hear that, I guess. You were so desperate to meet new people back then.”
Three seconds passed in silence. 
His eyes dropped to his lap, as did yours to your own. This previously reasonable bottle of merlot was loosening your lips rather unreasonably.
“Sorry, that was—” Unnecessary? Mean? 
True? 
“I didn’t mean to say that,” you finally managed, the words spilling out of your mouth in a tumbled rush. 
Or maybe you had. 
Jaehyun could only flash you a weak smile. “It’s fine,” he said, though you both knew it wasn’t really.
Frigidity returned to the air between you, stopped just short of freezing over by the reappearance of your waiter, along with a plate of goat’s cheese arancini. Jaehyun politely gestured for you to eat first, watching as you speared the crusty surface with your fork and moved it over to your own plate. For a few seconds, the only noises that could be heard from the table were the clinks and clanks of stainless steel utensils against ceramic plates. The arancini could not have come at a better time, affording both of you the opportunity to hide behind the guise of eating, and put off the need to make strained conversation, even if the time it bought you was fleeting.
Meet new people. Those were the exact words he had said to you all those years ago. Han River on a Tuesday night, cherry blossom petals fluttering through the balmy April air, the iciness of winter finally melting away into a distant memory to reveal fresh green carpets and vivid blooms — few things could have been more romantic. Spring is the season of love, they said. 
But for you, spring was the season of loss. It was the season when love ended, when love could be taken back and snatched away in the blink of an eye. On a Tuesday night in April, you learned that your love was not just not enough, but that it was a burden, an obstacle between Jaehyun and living his life to the fullest. That time spent with you was time squandered. That you were robbing him of the complete university experience, and to an extent, his youth.
Jaehyun had always been a wanter. He wanted boldly and he wanted freely, never dwelling too long on how his wanting could appear in the eyes of others, never shy about his desires. When he was ten years old, he wanted a dog, despite the reddening of his nose and the watering of his eyes whenever he’d get within arm’s distance of the bichon frisĂ©. In tenth grade, he wanted you, with cans of peach soda and sweet little notes in your locker until you finally said yes to being his girlfriend after three days of public pursuit. 
(You had arguably wanted him more, and for longer, though nobody had been none the wiser — you were rather good at hiding your feelings.)
Two months into your first year at university, his wants changed. He wanted more space and more freedom to meet new people. He wanted to be able to attend club social outings, and get to know his seniors, and play drinking games with his new roommates, instead of trekking to the other side of Seoul every week to see you, his girlfriend, who had now become his obligation.
It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed a shift in his behaviour in the months leading up to that fateful night. Smiles had become a little wearier. Texts had become sparser. You had chalked it up to the challenges of settling into the new routine and rigorous coursework, and the distance between your schools that occupied opposite sides of the city. Sure, the hour-long subway ride from his campus to yours wasn’t the greatest asset to your relationship, but 18-year-old you had remained optimistic it would endure whatever curveballs your first year of university and the beginnings of real adulthood would throw at you. 
You had survived the CSAT together and emerged in one piece. What else could be harder than that?
“You’re right though,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on his own piece of fried goat’s cheese. “I guess I was.”
You let your fork drop with a soft clang. “Let’s not, uh—we don’t have to talk about that.” Pink petals were swimming at the edges of your vision. 
Please, let’s not talk about that.
A flicker of something behind his eyes could almost convince you he wanted exactly the opposite of your unspoken plea. Maybe this was a conversation he didn’t actually want to avoid the way you so desperately did. 
And maybe he would have said something too, if not for the waiter who returned at that precise moment. 
“The mushroom ravioli,” the waiter announced, setting the plate down in front of you, “and the amatriciana spaghetti. Enjoy.” 
Four pieces of pasta covered in sage butter looked back up at you. 
You made a mental note to never order ravioli at an Italian restaurant ever again. 
The sound of scraping utensils returned to your table, lightly blanketing the stilted pause in conversation with idle noise. Without much enthusiasm, you sliced at one of the four pieces of your ravioli, throwing what you hoped were sneaky glances at the full plate of spaghetti sitting in an appetising red sauce laid out before your ex-boyfriend. 
“Do you want to try mine?”
Sneakiness had never been your forte.
Your polite refusal came quickly, even if it was rather weak to your own ears, but Jaehyun was already twirling a portion out onto the share plate the waiter had kindly provided a few minutes earlier. He made sure to scoop some sauce and pancetta bits on top as well, before gently pushing the plate towards you. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, though you made no move to dig in.
Everything wasn’t supposed to feel this familiar. You weren’t supposed to soften so easily at the sight of his dimpled smile. You weren’t supposed to feel that strange tug in your chest at his thoughtfulness, at the way he could still pick up the slightest change in your expression. And maybe the bar was too low, and here you were fawning over nothing more than the bare minimum, because what guy would see his date enviously looking at his food instead of her own and blatantly ignore it?
But with Jaehyun, it was different. You knew it was. Within every action, there was familiarity and practice, there was thought and care, there were years of history that were unerasable, even with the passage of time. You weren’t the same wide-eyed teenagers now as you had been then, and yet scenes from the rest of that excruciating first semester flickered in your mind. 
A silent breakdown during a business administration lecture. Your roommate’s concerned expression when you decided to skip dinner again.
The tug in your chest was leading you back into dangerous territory. 
For the third time tonight, you debated grabbing your things and walking straight out. You had only promised Joy that you would stay until the mains came out. If you were going to leave now, technically, you would still have fulfilled your end of the promise. Arguably, this wasn’t the best time to make an exit — fifteen minutes earlier would have been much better so that the kitchen would have time to cancel your stupid ravioli before they started preparing it. Leaving now wouldn’t be the most optimal, but it was still an option. A tad heavy on the dramatics, but you could live with that. You’d just never be able to step foot in this establishment again.
A shame. The spaghetti looked good. You’d have to search up if this place did delivery.
“You can go if you really want to, I won’t hold it against you,” Jaehyun said quietly. His eyes were fixed on the fork he was twirling through his dish. You supposed you should’ve been surprised at the way he could read your mind without even looking at you, but you couldn’t find the energy in you to pretend.
“But,” he continued at your silence, “if you’re willing to stay, I’d really like it if we could just catch up?” At this, he finally met your eyes and offered a small smile. “It has been a while, after all.”
Maybe it was the sincerity contained in those soft brown eyes. Maybe it was because you really did want to try the amatriciana spaghetti while it was hot and fresh off the stove. Whatever it was, you found yourself resolving to stay, despite all the reasons not to, despite the sound of them loud and clear in your head, ready at your disposal. Allowing yourself to indulge in nostalgia once in a while couldn’t be that bad for you. Right? 
So you stayed. And you ate (his spicy amatriciana scored a landslide victory over your mushroom ravioli). And you talked. As two friends would do, catching each other up on the things that had shaped your lives since you had gone on your separate ways. 
Conversation was clunky at first, that was to be expected. Even the closest of friendships would encounter some choppy waters when reconnecting for the first time after five years. But conversation with Jaehyun gave way to smooth sailing much quicker than you would have expected. He still wore the face of the boy who would sneak an extra serving of fried sweet potato from the cafeteria because he knew you liked them, but he wasn’t quite the same. Older, certainly. Maturity wasn’t something that went hand-in-hand with age like you had thought when you were younger, but he was more mature too. Surer of himself, and his place in the world.
You heard of the summer he spent in the UK after graduation, visiting his uncle and their family, appreciating classical architecture and the leisure inherent to rolling green hills that he hadn’t been able to find in the metropolis he had grown up in. (The food, however, was an entirely different story. He had never been so overjoyed to see a bowl of rice that wasn’t covered in mushy peas or sitting in a puddle of questionable-looking curry.)
He learned of your semester exchange in Amsterdam, including the unfortunate incident involving you, a runaway bicycle, and the freezing water of the Dutch canals. Fortunately, a nasty cold and two weeks in bed over the Christmas break were the worst things that came of it. Those few months had been eye-opening, to say the least. Stepping outside of your own bubble had made you realise how much more there was to the world, and how little you knew of it.
Yes, Jaehyun had changed, but then again so had you. The realisation dawned halfway through dessert, slowly settling over you as you spooned at the tiramisu in the centre of the table. Perhaps it hadn’t been fair to him that you had been harbouring this seed of antagonism towards him for all these years. He, so afflicted by youth, as you both had been back then, was only doing what he thought was right and necessary. Could you really fault him for that? You had seen enough of life now to know that sometimes, nobody was to blame.
There was a comfortable lull in the conversation before he spoke again. The sound of his voice drew you away from the window, where you could see that the rain had slowed from the earlier dramatic downpour to a lighter shower. 
“I know I probably wasn’t who you were expecting today,” he said, a little hesitant and gauging your expression.
“You definitely were not.” You gave him an amused half-smile over the rim of your barely-filled glass, which he returned. The bottle of merlot sat tall and empty on the table.
“I just wanted to say,” he began, taking in a breath, “I’m glad it was you. It was really nice to see you again. And I’m sorry if you were disappointed that it was me.” 
There was something sad in the curve of his mouth, you thought. It tempered the warmth in his eyes.
“I’m not disappointed,” you heard yourself say. “Really.”
It was the truth. You knew he could see it written across your face. Dishonesty and insincere flattery were not familiar weapons you wielded. He knew that. He knew you.
Jaehyun sat back, bringing his own glass to his lips and draining the lingering contents. Perhaps to hide the private smile that broke out across his handsome face, which you pretended not to see, turning your attention back to the raindrops pattering against the window. 
The evening air was cool on your bare arms when you stepped out, taking shelter under the awning in front of the restaurant. You weren’t the only one who had forgone a weather app consultation today. Jaehyun stood beside you, hands tucked neatly in the pockets of his slacks, a not unwelcome companion while you waited for your taxi to arrive. He’d call one later, after he made sure you had gotten in the car and were on the way home.
“I guess I’ll see you around?” he asked, tone light. 
You cast a sidelong glance at him. His profile was backlit by the warm light emanating from inside the restaurant, carving out the straight bridge of his nose, a soft shadow cupping the fullness of his bottom lip. Would there ever be a time the sight of him wouldn’t take your breath away?
“Maybe,” you breathed. Letting him back into your life wasn’t a decision you felt ready to make yet, and you had no intention of promising him anything you couldn’t be sure you’d be able to deliver. Even if you would only be promising him friendship.
He didn’t push it further and hummed in understanding. Then your taxi was pulling up in front of the restaurant, the splash from the tyres just missing the hem of your trousers, and you were bidding him goodbye, staring a second too long at the dimples that appeared, and trying not to step in a pothole puddle as you clambered rather ungracefully into the car. 
But because realisation was never punctual, it was only when you arrived home, carefully kicking off the black pumps and patting them dry with a microfibre cloth, that you realised two things. 
First, you had left your cardigan at the Italian restaurant.
And second, Jaehyun had footed the whole bill.
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There was a reason the seventh floor was your favourite floor in the building.
It wasn’t because of the little in-office cafe with the cute but ridiculously overpriced pastries that tasted even better than they looked, or the deceptively comfortable bean bag chairs by the far window that would always tempt you with a mid-afternoon nap every time you sank into one of them.
No. The seventh floor was your favourite because it had a Nespresso machine. Free use. Company-funded.
A seventh floor coffee was one of the only things that could get you to leave the comfort of your desk and willingly walk up two flights of stairs. (The elevators always took too long.) On Monday afternoons like these, after an entire morning swimming through attendance and sick leave reports from the last quarter, the promise of a smooth and velvety cappuccino felt like your only hope for humanity. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like everybody else had the same idea, if the line in front of the coffee machine was anything to judge by. 
“You should have told me!”
You gave Joy an incredulous look. “Right. Because I definitely knew exactly who he was.”
“Well, you could have worked it out. You’re a smart girl.”
“You said a total of three sentences about him.”
She paused, fixing you with a contemplative stare. Her eyebrows were doing that weird lifting thing when she was running something through her head. “Five sentences,” she finally managed, tapping around the rim of her empty mug. 
Why she came up with you at all when she wasn’t a coffee person, would probably take two sips of the espresso, and then complain it was too bitter, was beyond you. Sometimes you wondered if she was really that good at her job, or if her workload was just so non-existent that she could take five coffee breaks a day. It couldn’t be the latter, because you had seen that her calendar was full for the entire morning.
“Let’s not spend the next fifteen minutes talking about last Friday,” you sighed, already pushing thoughts of dimpled smiles and warm eyes to the far corner of your mind. Hopefully not to be revisited for a while. “I want my head outrageously blank while I enjoy this cappuccino. Swear to god Junmyeon is trying to drown me with those leave reports.”
“You know he only assigns them to you because you’ve never told him you hate doing it.”
“He assigns them to me because I’m the only one available who can get it done properly. You’re always blocked out, and Jungwoo has that weekly coaching session. Jisung tried to help me do it this morning, and he didn’t even separate paid from unpaid leave. The numbers looked like we were bleeding PTO.”
She gave you a sly smile. “You know you can block yourself out too,” she said off-handedly. 
“You can what?”
This was new information.
“You’re telling me someone else could be sifting through that 70-page file if I just schedule in a random meeting with myself?” you asked again, to which she nodded.
“Has yet to fail me. But make sure you name it something that makes sense, and don’t do it all the time, otherwise it’ll look suspicious.”
Corporate bullshitting was a fine art, and you were beginning to realise you were still but a novice at it. 
“And lay off the intern,” she added. “He’s just a child.” “He’s taller than Junmyeon.”
“A child in spirit, then. You know what I mean. He sort of reminds me of a cute little mouse,” she mused, trailing off. If her apartment complex didn’t have a pet ban, you had a feeling she would be taking in every stray animal off the street.
However, she was right. Jisung had been a bigger help than you had expected of a second-year commerce student. Even if it was just skimming through a finished presentation pack to fix up any typos and align text boxes, you couldn’t deny that having an extra pair of eyes and hands had made your life a little bit easier. Maybe you would even miss him once his summer placement came to an end and the semester rolled back around. As long as there weren’t too many more incidents like the one from this morning.
Speaking of this morning

“Hey, does that mean you’ve been making yourself unavailable so you don’t have to read the—”
“Oh look! The line’s getting shorter. You should move up before someone cuts in.”
You shuffled forward, but not without throwing her a displeased look along with a grumble or two. Next time the quarterly attendance analysis rolled around, you were definitely making use of the trick she had just told you about. A quick glance up ahead. There were now three people in front of you in the line, but only one green capsule left on the rack. 
Please, caffeine gods be willing, let that last one be yours.  
“I can’t believe I told you that I thought your ex-boyfriend was super fucking hot. I feel so icky, like I’ve betrayed you somehow,” Joy said, making a face. The dimpled smile fought its way back into your consciousness, and you suppressed the twist in your stomach that seemed to accompany every recollection of it. 
“It’s honestly fine. There’s no way you could have known.” You shrugged, partly to reassure her it wasn’t a big deal, and partly to shake off that funny feeling in the pit of your stomach.
The better part of your weekend had been spent trying to make sense of the night, after battling a merlot-induced migraine for most of Saturday morning and early afternoon. Three glasses had been a necessity to get through dinner, but it was ultimately overkill. You were no longer the girl from two years ago who took advantage of her afternoon class the next day by destroying a few soju bottles with your roommates. On a weeknight, too.
Joy gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Still, I’m sorry I put you through that. Hopefully it wasn’t completely awful?”
Completely awful, it was not. Awful at some parts? Maybe. 
Truthfully, you hadn’t been prepared to see Jaehyun again. Not to say that you had never thought about it — you definitely had, running simulations through your head about how you would run into him on the street, ignore his greeting and walk past him like he didn’t even exist. But those were the musings of a heart-broken teenager, turning to spite and cheap endeavours at revenge to cope with the loss of her first love. Last Friday did have spite rearing its ugly head, but that spite was short-lived, and only one aspect that made up the whirlwind of emotions that came with seeing him again after all those years. 
“No, it wasn’t all bad,” you were about to say, when your eye was suddenly caught by a movement up ahead. 
A slender, veiny hand reached out to grab the last green pod from the coffee rack. You watched as the thief’s fingers closed around the capsule and slotted it into the machine. He pressed the lever down — because of course, it was a man. Not only was he on the better side of the gender wage gap, but he also had to be ahead of you in the caffeine race as well.
The sound of the capsule being punctured was the final blow. 
“My coffee,” you lamented under your breath.
“Have some patience,” Joy chided. “We’re nearly there. You’re like a zombie when you don’t have your little cup of bean juice.”
You shook your head glumly. “The last Peruvian. I waited for so long. It was supposed to be mine, and he took it.” 
“Who did?”
“The guy at the front.” 
Your eyes were still glued on the hand as it wrapped around the mug filled with your favourite blend, completely unaware that it had just robbed you of the only small pocket of joy you had been looking forward to all afternoon. Peering around the two people still ahead, your gaze travelled up his exposed forearm and the sleeve of the white dress shirt cuffed there. If only you could catch a glimpse of the face that had stomped all over your hopes and dreams
 
The lady in front of you shuffled closer to the coffee machine and finally cleared your line of sight. Coffee stealer’s ear came into view before his face did, and he was—
“Jaehyun?”
His name fell out of Joy’s mouth before you could even get your own to start working again and beg her not to call out to him. For a moment you were afraid you had conjured him out of thin air from the uninvited thoughts of him circling the outskirts of your mind. At least now you knew he wasn’t a hallucination.
Jaehyun’s eyebrows pinched in confusion first, then surprise, before finally smoothing over with recognition. He offered a small wave, eyes flitting from Joy over to you, and then he was walking over, and you were fighting for your life trying to mask the panic that was bubbling away inside your chest.
You shot Joy a frantic look. Why did you do that?
I don’t know! Sorry, said her returning one. The corners of her mouth were turned down in an apologetic frown, but she quickly schooled it into a smile at Jaehyun’s approach.
“I’ve never seen you on seven before,” Joy said, the spitting image of friendliness, nevermind that you were beside her and desperately looking for an exit out of the incoming conversation. “You’re always holed up somewhere on ten.”
You supposed you should have known this would happen sooner or later. Six months without running into each other when you worked at the same company, in the same building, was the exception, not the rule. You were just grateful Joy didn’t try to bring up her clever little dinner setup that had been plaguing you the entire weekend, or try and rope the two of you into awkward and unnecessary introductions.
“Someone told me I should come down and try the Nespresso machine. Apparently it’s really good,” he said, gesturing at the mug you had been staring at for the past three minutes.
“It is,” were the first two words you managed. Both pairs of eyes shifted towards you, waiting for the rest of your comment to come, but you could only disappoint, the syllables hanging thick and dumb in the air. 
There appeared to be some sort of blockage in your mouth-to-brain pipeline.
Joy cleared her throat lightly, throwing you a sideways glance. “Which one did you try? They all taste the same to me, but she only drinks the green ones,” she said, ignoring the panicked twitch of your mouth. She knew full well that he was the one you’d been staring daggers into ever since he grabbed that stupid capsule. Your stupid capsule.
Jaehyun’s eyes flicked between your face and the steaming drink in his hand a few times.
“Do you want mine? I think I might have taken the last green one.” He offered the mug to you. “I didn’t really know what to press, so it’s just a cappuccino. Regular milk. I haven’t had any yet.”
“It’s fine, you should have yours. I’ll get another one,” you politely declined. No matter how much you liked the Peruvian blend, it was not worth the charity from your ex-boyfriend. Even if it was the only thing that could get you through the rest of the afternoon. Even if he was holding the exact thing that you had been planning on getting. 
Hopefully the kitchen staff would restock those capsules by tomorrow.
The look he gave you was not a convinced one, but he didn’t push further. With your dismissal of his offer, the three of you lapsed into a sticky silence. Even Joy, who was so adept at making topics of conversation out of nothing, had little to add, passing up the challenge of pulling meaningful sentences out of your mouth. The stifling tension between you and Jaehyun must have been more powerful than you thought. 
“Shoot, I think I’m getting a Teams call,” Joy suddenly said, making a show of pulling her phone out and tapping the screen. 
Liar. She didn’t even have the app notifications turned on. 
“I should probably take this, but I’ll see the both of you later.” She flashed a contrite smile, and then she was off, almost speed-walking her way down the stairs you had come up together, all the while pressing her phone to her ear with a little too much urgency for a mid-afternoon cold call. By the look on Jaehyun’s face, he hadn’t been all that impressed by her impromptu theatrics either.
“Are you still in the line?”
“Sorry, yes,” you muttered at the woman behind you. Clearly, you were not the only one impatient for their caffeine fix. 
Finally, you were at the counter. You stared blankly at the rack of capsules. The empty space where the green ones were usually stored was glaringly obvious, jumping out at you while you skimmed through the other blends for a passable alternative. After many more seconds than would have been necessary to pick one flavour out of the remaining three, your fingers closed around a gold one. It would have to do for today. 
Jaehyun watched as you dropped the capsule into its slot and made your selections. Why he was still here with you was somewhat of a mystery. You would’ve thought that Joy’s hasty exit would have prompted him to do the same, saving the both of you from having to make bumbling small talk about the weather, or the weekend, or whatever else that two people working at the same company, with no other relational history, could talk about to fill in the silence.
Maybe he wanted to talk about the dinner bill. The fact that he had settled it, without you even noticing, had been weighing on your mind. It was less of a money thing — though you were pretty sure the total hadn’t been a modest number — than a pride thing. Being indebted to others always left a smear on your conscience. 
Being indebted to your ex-boyfriend was like someone had shit all over it.
Whatever. If he didn’t bring it up first, you would. This was the 21st century. You were both financially independent adults. Splitting the bill on a first date didn’t have to be such a contentious thing. 
Although technically, it was far from your first. And it wasn’t a date either, because you had refused to label it as such in your head.
The last few drops of milk and espresso trickled into the mug, before the machine stopped whirring altogether. You knew he was still there. You could feel his presence behind you. He had probably been waiting for the noise to stop so that you’d be able to hear him speak. Taking your mug off the stand, you turned to face him. 
“Your cardigan,” he said.
“Huh?”
Confusion splashed over you. You weren’t even wearing one today.
“I have your cardigan,” he amended. “From Friday. You left it inside the restaurant. One of the waiters brought it out, but you had left already, so I took it with me.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I have it now, if you want it back.”
“You do?” 
“I mean, it’s at my desk. I brought it in today,” he added quickly, seeing the way you were looking about his person like you were expecting it to materialise into his hands.
You blinked a few times, trying to clear the brain fog that had decided now was the perfect time to strike. “Yes, I—thank you, um, for that. I can take it off you
?” 
Had you meant to have it sound so much like a question? It seemed like your capacity for human speech was always afflicted by some sort of malfunction in his presence.
“Okay, uh, do you want to come up to my desk? I’ve got it there.”
The elevator ride up to the tenth floor was a short one. You could have taken the stairs just to get the extra steps in, but with both of you holding uncovered drinks, three flights of stairs combined with your clumsy fingers were a slip hazard just waiting to happen. Still, despite the short journey, the seconds inside the elevator seemed to drag on for much longer.
Before you could lose your nerve, you opened your mouth to crack the silence. 
“Let me pay you back for dinner.” 
Good. It sounded good. Firm, but not overbearing. Hell yeah, you were getting the hang of this conversation-with-your-ex-boyfriend thing. 
Jaehyun seemed a bit taken aback by that, turning to you slightly with surprise woven into the crease of his brow. “You really don’t need to do that,” he said after a beat.
The elevator dinged, and he stepped out through the sliding doors before you could form a coherent response. It took a second for you to follow, the coffee inside your mug almost making a dangerous appearance all over the elevator floor as you caught up with his strides. 
“Think of it as me taking care of a junior colleague. I am your senior, you know,” he said over his shoulder, a smile gracing his features at the latter part.
“Only by half a year,” you grumbled. “That doesn’t even count.” The light shake of his broad shoulders let you know he had heard your gripes over his attempts at enforcing seniority. His accompanying laugh was a soft one. You barely caught it above the noise of the tenth floor office.
The mellowed cosiness of the fifth floor HR department was hard to be found here. You were used to some chatter, with the occasional high-pitched laugh from Joy punctuating the air. On days he was feeling particularly jovial, Junmyeon could be heard humming from whichever desk he had decided to park at for the day (such was the beauty of hot-desking and hotelling). The few occasions you shared a table with him had allowed you to recognise the melody of The Beatles’ Strawberry Fields Forever — always the same song, and he hummed everything except for the words ‘strawberry fields’, which he insisted on singing, albeit softly.
Nothing about Digital was soft or cosy. Except maybe the sofa in one of the open creative spaces. The floor buzzed with activity, from the influx of incoming call ringtones to agenda-packed meetings in conference rooms. A group of people were clustered around a floor-to-ceiling whiteboard covered in diagrams that were undecipherable to you, engaged in animated conversation while pointing at various parts of the board. Some of them greeted Jaehyun as he walked past with you in tow.
“I had no idea Digital was this busy,” you mused out loud, following him as he weaved through the desks.
He chuckled lightly. “We like to talk a lot. And some of us can get a bit loud,” he said. The joking undercurrent to his voice had you thinking that the second part was said with someone in mind. “But it’s more hectic than usual. We’ve just won a really big bid and Johnny’s excited about his first time leading one of the streams.” He paused to wave and give a thumbs-up at the man standing at the very front of the whiteboard group (you assumed this was Johnny), who returned the greetings with just as much enthusiasm. 
Jaehyun had always been a people person. That was one thing that would likely never change.
The two of you arrived at his desk, a quieter one next to the windows offering an almost unobstructed view of the city. He dug around his workspace, pulling out a Jo Malone gift bag. 
“Ignore the bag,” he said, catching your wary expression. “I didn’t want to stuff it in my duffel with the rest of my gym stuff.” 
You took it from his outstretched hand, with a quick glance to check that it was in fact your cardigan. The ribbed black fabric sat inside, folded neatly over itself. 
“It got rained on quite a bit, so I washed it. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course, that’s kind of you, Jaehyun. You didn’t have to.” For a moment, you wondered if he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent. The smell of it used to cling to his school uniform, a burst of freshness you always sought during the muggy summer days.
“Thank you,” you said, giving him a grateful smile. “I thought I lost it for good.” In your mind, you had already made peace with the fact that you would probably see the thing ever again. Yet all weekend, it had been taking up space in Jaehyun’s hamper, uncertain as to when it would finally be able to reunite with your closet.
You gave him a careful look. 
“Did you plan on seeing me today?” you asked. 
“No. Yes. I mean—” The tips of his ears took on the faintest hint of a pink flush. “I didn’t know if I would run into you, so I’m glad I did. But otherwise, I was just going to give it to Joy and get her to pass it along to you,” he trailed off, gaze shifting sideways to the cityscape posted on the other side of the glass windows. 
Neither of you had bothered with exchanging contact details after dinner, an oversight that was more deliberate than not on your part. His re-entry into your life was something you hadn’t felt quite ready for. And yet—
“Do you want my number?”
Stupid mouth. The words were out before you even registered that you had spoken. You prayed he wouldn’t pick up on the unintended suggestion of the question, though judging by the quick raise of his left eyebrow, you weren’t the only one who realised the other possible interpretations of your words. 
“I mean, just in case something like this happens again. So you can contact me directly,” you added quickly. Heat slowly crept its way up to your cheeks. You hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“Sure,” he said, lips curling into a smile. “If that’s okay with you.” 
Considering you were the one who had said it out loud in the first place, it would have been strange if you suddenly decided it was not okay with you.
There was some fumbling with each other’s phones, before you were typing your number to add into his contacts, and he was doing the same to yours. Would he realise yours was still the same string of digits as it had been five years ago?
“Well, I’d better get going,” you said, handing back his phone. Now was as good a time to make an easy exit as any. You had planned on gossiping with Joy in the level seven kitchen for the rest of the hour, but back to your desk appeared to be the more likely destination this afternoon. 70-page files didn’t read themselves. “Thanks for the cardigan. I’ll see you later, then?”
Jaehyun looked like he had more to say, but you were already turning around, ready to leave the hubbub of the tenth floor. Ready to leave the presence of your ex-boyfriend-turned-friend? Acquaintance? You shook your head lightly. A drink was needed to unpack that box of worms.
A call of your name had you pausing mid-step.
“Your coffee,” Jaehyun said, tapping you on the shoulder to hand you your mug. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking it from his grasp. You hadn’t even bothered to take a sip of the non-Peruvian cappuccino, the surface still untouched. It was probably cold now. Maybe you’d pass it off to Jungwoo, this time sans the salt.
“You know, if the dinner bill thing bothers you that much, you can just make it up to me later.”
You blinked at him a few times. “Make it up to you how?”
“Ah, that’s for me to decide,” he replied, a boyish glint to his smiling eyes. Both his dimples popped out, and you found yourself unable to choose which one to focus on. 
Then he was moving, and you were left staring at the broad expanse of his back as he walked away. Head full of thoughts wondering what the hell kind of favour he would now hold over your head, you almost walked straight into Jungwoo as you came out of the elevator.
“Hey, I got a Nespresso from seven. You want it?” you asked, offering him the coffee you stopped yourself from spilling all over him. He eyed the mug apprehensively.
“You put salt in it again, didn’t you?”
“No? Where did you even get that from? Hang on, how do you know it was me?”
Jungwoo sucked in a breath through his teeth. “So it was you! I knew it! You know, you really are a scary woman,” he grumbled. “Who ever would have thought an evil spirit lurked behind such a kind face?”
“So that’s a no to the coffee?”
“I don’t trust you anymore, so no.”
“Suit yourself,” you shrugged, making your way back to your desk. The attendance reports stared back at you as you logged into the monitor, drawing a sigh out of you. You took a sip of the coffee.
And frowned.
You brought the mug to your mouth again. Like the first sip, the second was also lukewarm. But like the first sip, the second also tasted exactly the same as your usual Peruvian blend. Maybe there really was no difference between all the different coloured capsules, you thought, skimming through page 33 of the file.
That thing about realisation never being on time? Still true.
On the subway ride home, gripping the handle with all your might while sandwiched between two middle-aged men in stuffy suits, it dawned on you.
Jaehyun had given you his coffee instead.
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“Thanks everyone for dialling in today. We’ll chat soon.”
The screen reverted back to its default background as the call ended, and you let out a sound somewhere in between a groan and a whimper. Junmyeon did not look to be faring any better, head in his hands while his elbows rested on the meeting room table.
“Can somebody please tell Jackson and the rest of the Marketing heads that Summer Fridays doesn’t mean they can just take Fridays completely off?” he groaned, the sounds escaping through the gaps in his fingers. “Our absenteeism looks like it’s at an all time high. Nayeon, you’re friendly with him, aren’t you?”
The girl pressed at her temples. “I mean, we were in the same advertising and PR club back in university, if that counts for anything. But yeah, I’ll schedule some time with him and go over it.”
“Great, thank you,” Junmyeon sighed, throwing his head back. “Alright, I’ll send around a debrief email later this afternoon. Thanks everyone for your time.”
You didn’t have to be told twice. A second later and you were out of the eighth floor Marketing meeting room, already on your way to the Nespresso machine downstairs. Another coffee at 4pm was slightly pushing it, but you needed a pick-me-up urgently to wash away the gruelling two hours spent going through company policy with Marketing.
The buzz of your phone was a momentary distraction from your mission. 
It was a message from Jaehyun. Something silly in response to a text you had sent earlier in the day. 
jaehyun [04:07 pm]: in dire need of a fake mango right now jaehyun [04:07 pm]: mmm fake mango milkshake
The smile that crept up onto your face was almost like a reflex in the way it couldn’t be helped.
Now that you were acquainted again, it was like you saw him everywhere. How you had managed to completely avoid each other for the last half a year or so was a fascinating mystery. Some mornings you’d run into him in the building lobby. He’d hold the elevator doors open for you, and you’d exchange pleasantries on the ride up to the fifth floor, where you’d get off and bid him goodbye, or see you later. And see him later you did. Whether it was at the seventh floor coffee machine, or in line at the cafeteria on twelve, the sight of his face had become a nice interruption to the hours spent at a monitor, or in a call like the one you had just escaped.
He would come down to the fifth floor sometimes, stopping by Joy’s desk or yours to say hello and have a chat if you weren’t busy. You found yourself wishing he would spend less time with Joy than he did with you — not because you wanted to see him more (because that was absolutely not the reason at all), but because he was steadily gaining a lead over you in the Joy friendship competition. The three of you had spent a few lunch breaks at the cafeteria together, granted that your schedules matched, with an odd appearance from Jungwoo every now and again.
You saw more of Johnny (loud) and Mark (louder), Jaehyun’s friends from Digital who you’d normally hear before you’d see them. Johnny was his “beloved coffee mate” (Jaehyun’s exact words) and possibly the only other person in the building who cared about the green Peruvian capsules as much as you did. Mark was
 Mark, for lack of a better description. There was nobody the boy couldn’t strike a conversation with. If he really needed to, you suspected he could probably get along with a wet paper towel. 
You had been offered an invitation to join the three of them for one of their weekly lunches outside the company building. Johnny was more than happy to let you know he was somewhat of an expert at finding the hottest eats in the area, having put half his floor onto the cold noodle place he had sought out at the start of the month. And laugh as you had when he proudly told you about it, Johnny’s influence was no joke. News of the restaurant had somehow trickled its way down to HR, with Junmyeon just the other day asking around the team if anyone had tried the place before. 
Perhaps you’d join them next week. It was always nice to be ahead of the trend. 
You arrived at the seventh floor kitchen and sighed. The rack was out of green capsules again. Although, maybe that was to be expected. It was nearing the end of the day, and the gold capsules were finished too. So much for a 4pm pick-me-up, you thought, though it might have been for the better — too much caffeine in one day always made you a bit antsy and had your resting heart rate up in the high 80s. 
With empty hands and a pout on your lips, you made your way back to the fifth floor. 
Joy’s eyes were glued to her screen when you walked past her. “Jaehyun stopped by while you were in that Marketing call,” she said without looking at you, squinting at a spreadsheet. 
“Did he?” you replied, trying your best at nonchalance despite the little flip of your stomach. 
“Are you talking about her handsome friend from Digital?” Jungwoo peered around the table with a playful grin on his face. 
You were back on good terms now, thanks to your promise to pay for his lunch from the cafeteria for a whole week to make up for the coffee incident. The look in his eyes right now had you thinking life was better that week where he had been afraid of you.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Joy said distractedly in between clicks of her keyboard. “Jisung, can you just double check these numbers for me? I’m in the second tab of the Excel file.” 
The intern was quick to comply. You had a feeling she was his favourite senior. 
“Anyways, I think he left you something.”
You made your way over to your desk, ignoring Jungwoo’s oohs and ahs. Sure enough, there was something sitting next to your diary and the three empty glasses you hadn’t had the chance to rinse out yet.
It was a coffee capsule. Specifically, it was a green coffee capsule. 
There was a sticky note stuck to the back of it, which you turned around to read. His handwriting was still identical to that of the silly little notes he used to leave in the margins of your home economics workbook. 
saved this last one from johnny’s clutches. enjoy ^.^
Despite the jitters from the end-of-day caffeine fix, you smiled the whole way home.
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“I’ve found a way you can make it up to me.”
You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the screen. 9:34 am. The Saturday morning still had you in its clutches, and it took a few seconds to process the sounds you were hearing. 
“Who is this?” you croaked, sleep lacing your voice. 
“It’s Jaehyun.” 
You sat up a little straighter against the pillows. “Jaehyun?” you echoed. 
“Yes, it’s me. Do you not check the caller ID before you answer?”
You grumbled something about it being too early on the weekend to have your head screwed on properly, to which he laughed, a vivid sound even through the phone. 
“Do you have plans later today?”
You hesitated. Technically, no, unless a hot date with Netflix and whatever leftover snacks you could find in your pantry counted as plans. You were due for a grocery trip soon. The three eggs and single sprig of spring onion in your fridge would not last for long. Cooking had never been something you enjoyed, especially not after a full work day, and yet living alone required so much of it. You didn’t want to make up a non-existent dinner reservation, partly because you knew he’d be able to tell the untruth just by listening to your voice, and partly because something unpleasant niggled at your insides at the thought of lying just to avoid him.  
“Why, what’s up?” you asked instead.
“Well, you know that jazz festival?” You gave an affirmative hum. “I have tickets for today. Mark and I were supposed to go together, but he just called me saying he can’t make it. Something about a leak in his apartment from all the rain. So
”
You stifled a yawn. “So?” Your brain was still trying to catch up with the land of the awake and living. 
“Come with me?”
The words took a while and a few blinks to register. When they did, your first instinct was to say no. Jaehyun was fine in small doses. A quick chat over coffee, sporadic texts throughout the day, conversation within the safety of a group setting — these were all fine. Manageable. Nice, even. But Jaehyun in the flesh, outside of the office, with nobody else around to buffer the strange sort of tension that seemed to always thrum between the two of you — that was an entirely different ball game altogether. Sometimes, a mere run-in was enough to have your heart going a little faster than usual, nerves lighting up at the unexpected sight of his face. 
“I am not above begging. Please don’t make me go to this thing by myself.”
And yet, there was a flicker of something pleasant and sweet, something akin to excitement that curbed the nervous flutter in your gut. You were fifteen again, waiting outside the movie theatre, a little too giddy at the thought of spending time with the boy whose sweet smile had become the cause of your stomach somersaults. And that was before you had even admitted to yourself that you liked him, as more than a friend. 
“What time is it?” you found yourself asking.
So maybe you were seriously considering it. You had been meaning to put that new film camera to use. The thing had been collecting dust in one of your drawers ever since you bought it on a whim one night scrolling through Pinterest. Somehow, the rows of tables and monitors in the office didn’t seem like the most interesting camera subjects compared to the scenes of concerts and beach bonfires that had driven your impulsive purchase. 
“Well, the doors open at 11, but the first performer is at 12. And Lauv’s set isn’t until later in the evening.”
“Lauv is performing?” Your voice had gone up almost an octave, but you couldn’t care enough to be embarrassed. This was a crucial piece of information. Now you had to be there. 
He laughed. “So is that a yes?”
“Yes. Yes, it’s a yes.” The covers were flipped off your legs in an instant.
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It wasn’t that Jaehyun looked bad in slacks and a dress shirt. That was not the case at all. But you had grown used to them on him over the last few weeks, and the sight of his long legs in a pair of well-fitting trousers no longer caused a spike in your heart rate. 
Jaehyun in casual clothes outside the office was uncharted territory. 
The midday sun was strong outside the subway station. Clad in a black graphic tee over a pair of baggy green cargos, Jaehyun stood idly at the entrance, face hidden by the brown baseball cap on his head and eyes trained on his phone. How someone could look so gorgeous in something so ordinary was a secret only he knew the truth of. He caught sight of you from across the road, waiting for the pedestrian light, and raised his hand in a wave. 
“It’s different seeing you out of your work clothes,” he said. 
“Different good or different bad?”
A soft smile grazed his lips. “Just different. You look younger.”
“So do you,” you replied. 
You look like the boy I was in love with all those years ago. 
“Did you taxi?”
“No, I took the bus. There’s one that goes straight from my building. I didn’t know you lived around here,” you mused to yourself.
“My place is really close.” He pointed somewhere behind him. “Five minutes that way, tops. You should come over sometime.”
A slight pause. Jaehyun’s eyes flitted down to the pavement. You weren’t sure if the heat in your cheeks was from the sun or something else entirely. 
“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “we should probably go. It takes 40 minutes to get there, so if we leave now we should be able to catch the 1pm.”
The subway on the weekend was nowhere near as awful as it usually was during the weekday rush hours, but packed nonetheless. You definitely preferred being stuck in a carriage full of bright-eyed and chattering teenagers than the usual crowd of solemn-faced office workers. When a seat finally freed up, Jaehyun was quick to offer it to you, manoeuvring himself so that he could stand in front of you as you sat down. Toe to toe, the tips of his shoes grazed yours, and you were suddenly reminded of study periods at the library. The two of you could never agree on who first started the game of footsie under the desk.
“See those girls over there?” you asked quietly, nodding towards a group of likely high schoolers down the other end of the carriage. Jaehyun turned his head to follow your gaze, catching sight of the girls who immediately erupted in whispers and giggles upon making eye contact with him. “They’ve been staring at you for the last two stops.”
He was quick to turn back towards you, nose scrunching and slightly embarrassed. “Kids these days are so weird,” he said with a soft groan. “Why are they doing that?”
“You know they’re only staring because you’re handsome.” 
Despite the pinkness of his ears, he was smiling wide. “You think I’m handsome?”
You blinked up at him. “I didn’t say that.” Did I? “I meant they probably think you’re handsome. Which is why they’re staring. You know. It’s nice to look at good-looking people.” 
The rushed explanations did nothing to shake the feeling that you had slipped-up somehow, and he had caught it. Jaehyun’s dimples only deepened at your backtracking.
“You know what I mean,” you finally huffed, biting back a smile at the deep sound of his responding laugh. “Whatever. I think this is our stop.”
The festival couldn’t have picked a better day to be held. The skies were clear and blue, and the air carried a light breeze that provided a welcome relief from the heavy stickiness of midsummer. It was a nice change from the sporadic rainstorms that had plagued the city over the last two weeks or so. Mark’s leaking apartment was proof of the temperamental weather. If you had one bone to pick, the sun was a tad strong, but that was to be expected. You had come prepared, tugging the bucket hat down further to cover your face. 
Alaina Castillo’s set was well underway by the time you and Jaehyun made your way into the venue grounds. A decent amount of people had already arrived, trickling in to fill up the gated area in front of the main stage. The two of you filed in with the rest, finding a place towards the back of the growing crowd where there was ample room to breathe without inhaling someone else’s breath. 
You had never been one for being stuck in a swarm of people. A harsh reminder of why that was the case appeared when, out of nowhere, a stranger’s elbow dug into your arm, knocking you sideways in their determined path towards the barricade. 
The steadying hand around your shoulder was instantaneous. 
“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked, and you mumbled something affirmative in reply, trying not to dwell too much on the warmth of his skin on your bare arm. His eyes followed the stranger who was still pushing on through the crowd in front. “People really need to watch where they’re going,” he muttered, brows drawn together in a frown.
The rest of the afternoon proceeded more smoothly. It was a little unsettling how normal and nice everything felt. Jaehyun kept close to you for the sets that followed, the distance between the two of you gradually shrinking as the crowd grew in size. The occasional brush of your forearms as you moved to the music was no longer something to jump at like you had the first time it had happened. You managed to snap a few pictures on your almost-new film camera, mostly of the artist performing, but there was one of you in there somewhere amidst the stage shots, taken by an insistent and smiley Jaehyun during one of the set breaks. 
“So this is why you wanted someone to come with you,” you said, sliding onto the bench and passing him one of the burgers from the food truck.
“It’s so much more efficient when you can line up for two things at once. If I was by myself, I’d either wait for the beer and let my burger get soggy, or wait for the burger and let my beer get warm and flat. This way the food is fresh, and our drinks are ice cold out of the fridge.”
You cracked a smile. “And here I thought you called me because you enjoyed my company.”
“I do enjoy your company,” he said without missing a beat. “The other stuff is just an added plus.”
You took a sip of the cold beer, hoping it would stave off the quick flush of your cheeks. Jaehyun said things so easily. Too easily. It was harder and harder to adhere to that invisible boundary you had been so adamant on protecting. 
Why were you so reluctant to let him back in? Why all the walls? He made it too easy for thoughts like that to creep in and loiter in the back of your mind. 
Evening had begun to settle, the brightness of the midday sky fading away to a twinkling twilight blue over your heads. The music was quieter at the picnic tables by the tents, where festival-goers sought respite from the main stage crowds with a cold beverage and something greasy. Between mouthfuls of an early makeshift dinner, you and Jaehyun sat in your own bubble, comfortably falling into conversation about the performances throughout the day, or whatever else happened to be on your minds.  
“Your mouth opens so wide,” you said, watching as he all but inhaled half the burger in one go. His nose scrunched up as he tried to take the massive bite, and the sight of it was such a far cry from his usual cool guy image that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to snap a picture of it. The click of the shutter had him looking up at you mid-chew with a dismayed expression.
“That’s not fair. You attacked when I wasn’t ready!”
“I’d hardly call that an attack,” you said, not without a smile. “I was just getting a candid.”
He wiped his fingers on the napkin. “Okay, my turn then,” he said, gesturing for you to hand the camera over. You obliged, letting him point the lens at you and fiddle with the knobs along the top. His slender fingers navigated the controls with a practised ease.
“Relax,” he added softly, noticing your fidgeting. Twenty-something years, and you had made little progress in mastering the art of posing for photos. “Pretend the camera’s not here, and it’s just you and me.”
Right. Like that was supposed to make you loosen up.
“I actually used to be really into photography. Got pretty good at it too,” he said.
“Really? I don’t remember that.”
“Picked it up in uni,” he explained. “Had all this free time on my hands and didn’t know what to do with it. Besides drinking.” A pause. “Honestly, first year second semester was pretty rough after
 you know.”
The last part caught you somewhat off-guard. After that fateful April night, you had always assumed Jaehyun was off living his best life, blowing through society events with the new friends he had made, maybe even letting a few of them warm his bed now that you weren’t around. It wouldn’t have been the biggest surprise. Even at nineteen, Jaehyun’s good looks were uncontested. His sweet and attentive personality was the cherry on top of an already delectable cake. Whatever he got up to when the sun set, you were none the wiser, having completely wiped his existence from your phone by the time your first semester exam period rolled around. 
Though you didn’t go as far as to block his number, he never reached out, and so Jeong Jaehyun became a relic of the past, embracing his newfound freedom now that he had shed himself of you, his unwanted baggage.
Or so you thought.
“But yeah,” he continued, “I started getting into photography. Burnt a hole in my wallet trying out a bunch of different cameras,” he said with a chuckle. “I liked film the most though, I think. It’s the only one I still use now.” 
“What do you like about it?”
He took a moment, pausing in thought. “The colours, mostly. How it’s a bit muted, it has that vintage feeling.” You hummed in agreement. “Selfies on a film camera are fun as well.”
“You must really like looking at yourself,” you teased, enjoying the sight of his ears flushing with colour from where they poked out above the camera.
“Not like that,” he said in reply to the raise of your eyebrows. “It’s more like
 when you take a selfie on film, you can’t see yourself, right? Whether the focus is focusing, or if the angle is right.
“Or if your whole face is actually in the shot, not just your right eye.”
“Exactly. But then taking the picture anyway. That’s what I like.” He pulled away from the camera to flash you a small smile. “Isn’t it funny, the way we try so hard to capture moments of time?”
Jaehyun’s attention returned to the viewfinder, leaving you to quietly dwell on his words. How else could one keep a piece of time stored away if not through photos? And yet, photography would never be able to capture the entirety of a moment the way a memory could. The sound of the band’s bass guitar from the side stage in the adjacent garden. The smell of summer carried by the evening breeze as it ruffled through his hair.
The warm feeling in your chest as you sat across from him at this wooden picnic bench, surrounded by people, sharing wistful conversation and a basket of fries. 
The feeling of coming home.
The shutter clicked.
“Got it. That last one is going to turn out so nice.” Jaehyun smiled triumphantly, cheeks dimpling. “If you make this your profile picture you have to add the ‘photo by’. I need my credits.”
You blinked away the precarious thoughts. “Alright, mister photographer man, give it back now. Don’t use up all my film before Lauv.”
He handed the camera back to you, looking very pleased with himself. The light from the nearby tents cast a dusky glow over his face. Jaehyun from Digital was sharp and polished. The Jaehyun before you now, with his hair dishevelled from taking off the cap earlier, was softer, more open, and more subtle in the way he had slipped under your defences and picked the locks chained around your heart. 
The question now was whether you’d let him in further than you already had.
He tugged at his collar. “God, it’s still muggy at night, isn’t it?” 
“You stay here, I’ll get us some more beers,” you said, already standing up.
If anything, you were grateful for the errand, a welcome distraction from the tumultuous battle between your heart and your head that always forged on at any thought of him. The line for the bar was no shorter than it had been half an hour ago, to nobody’s surprise (this was a festival in Seoul, of course the queues would be severe) and it was a while before the two cold plastic cups were in your hands. 
The short time away from him had given you the space to steer your mindset back onto the charted platonic course. A little voice in the back of your mind objected, and was making a damn convincing argument about why you should be more inclined to go beyond plain friendship with Jaehyun, but you chose to ignore it, suppressing the nagging with a deep breath and a smile that you hoped looked less conflicted than how you felt. Beers in hand, you carefully made your way back to the picnic table — only to be met with a rather interesting sight.
Jaehyun was still where you had left him, thankfully. But the two girls that now stood around him were a new addition. 
“Hey,” you greeted, tapping him on the shoulder to pass him one of the beers. The taller girl visibly deflated when he flashed you a grateful smile, taking the plastic cup from your hand. The shorter one, however, ran her eyes up and down your figure with an almost calculating gaze.
“Is this your friend?” the shorter one asked, question directed at Jaehyun.
“Uh, yeah, um—hi,” you answered very eloquently, introducing yourself. You tossed a glance between Jaehyun and the two girls. “Do you um—are you guys friends?”
“Well, no, not really. Minjeong and Jimin just came—”
“We were actually going to ask if you guys wanted to join us up closer to the main stage?” the shorter one (Minjeong perhaps?) asked, flashing a sweet smile you suspected was more for Jaehyun’s benefit than yours. “We have a blanket and a few chairs set up, so you can sit and watch the closing set. It’s much more comfortable than standing inside the barricade.”
“Jaehyun looked a little lonely by himself,” the taller one added.
Lonely because you left him for ten minutes to go get some cold drinks? These girls were unbelievable.
“What do you say? Want to join us?”
Maybe you should’ve taken the group of highschoolers on the subway earlier more seriously as a forewarning. Not that you had any say in what Jaehyun could and could not do — he was his own person, and the closest thing you had to a claim on him had disintegrated years ago. If he wanted to go hang out with pretty strangers, he could go and do exactly that, and you didn’t have to follow him either. The invitation had clearly been meant for him more than it had been for you.
So what if you had been looking forward to enjoying the last set together? You were a big girl. You could brave the main stage crowds by yourself if you had to.
Jaehyun glanced at you, searching your eyes while you tried your best to keep your face neutral and devoid of the uneasy thoughts bubbling away beneath your skin. He was his own person. He could make his own choices. 
After a second or two, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and turned back to the two expectant girls with a polite smile. “We’ll take our chances with the pit,” he answered. “But thank you for the offer. That’s kind of you guys.”
The two girls made their exit shortly afterwards, but not without a final look at him, and a decidedly less enthusiastic one at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the two of you sipping on your beers without a word, waiting for the other to speak.
“You could have gone with them if you wanted to,” you finally mumbled, eyes fixed on the contents of your cup.
To your surprise, Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m pretty sure Minjeong had an engagement ring on her finger.”
“Oh, what?” 
You definitely had not noticed, too occupied by the saccharine looks she was throwing his way.
“Yeah. It was a pretty big diamond too. I think she must have forgotten to take it off today.”
You turned to look at him then. Jaehyun already had his eyes on you, sporting a lazy grin. “Come on, you can’t think I’m the type to mess around with married women?”
“That’s not what I—I didn’t know—”
“Don’t worry,” he interjected. “You’re still cute when you’re jealous.”
The quick heat rising to your face dispelled any of the remaining nonchalance in your expression. “I wasn’t—I’m not jealous,” you spluttered. “I was just worried—I mean, not worried,” you paused, sighing. “I thought you’d leave me.”
His eyes sought out yours, keeping them captive once they grabbed a hold. 
“I wouldn’t leave you.”
The teasing brevity to his voice had disappeared. Somehow, you had the feeling he wasn’t simply talking about the jazz festival. The sincerity in his gaze made it hard to look away, but you had to, in the name of self preservation. Too long staring into those brown eyes was an unnecessary test of the upper limits of your heart rate. 
“Maybe she came with her husband. He could be up there on that picnic mat, waiting for her.”
He laughed, throwing his head back. “Trust me, if her husband was here, she would not have been looking at me like that.”
To their credit though, finding a spot to watch the main stage proved to be rather difficult now that everyone had arrived to catch the final act. For a moment you considered leaving the pit to take the two girls up on their offer. But with Jaehyun by your side, you were able to navigate the crowds with a bit more peace of mind, his presence a solid and comforting anchor within the sea of people. A few rogue pushes here and there had you stumbling — and perhaps the two beers on a rather empty stomach were coming on faster than you had expected — but he was there, steadying you with a gentle hand around your arm, or the light press of his firm chest against your back.
And maybe you leaned into him for longer than necessary to regain your balance, but was that really a crime? To enjoy the touch of a friend? Was it a crime for warmth to pool in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him swaying along to Lauv’s Enemies?
No, the little voice in your head denied forcefully. Jaehyun grooving to the music had always been one of your weaknesses. 
As the closing chords of Paris in the Rain sounded out across the venue, you pulled out your film camera.
“Walking down an empty street.”
A gentle nudge of Jaehyun’s shoulder had him turning towards you, nose scrunched in a happy half-laugh from watching the performance. You moved to face the back of the crowd and raised the camera high, pointing it towards the two of you. 
Was the stage in the shot? Was Lauv? 
Were you?
“Puddles underneath our feet.”
Call it courage, or liquid courage, or just plain recklessness on your part. Rising up on your tiptoes, you pressed your cheek to his, and clicked the shutter button. 
The final chord of the song struck, softly, like an afterthought, and the crowd burst into appreciative hoots and applause, marking the end of the performance.
You were beaming as you turned back towards him. “Do you think I got that one?”
Jaehyun simply stared at you, lips parted and turned up slightly at the corners. He looked more caught off-guard than he had when you had told him you thought all the Cigarettes After Sex songs sounded the same. You felt the glowing smile on your face slip, little by little, as you let his eyes roam your features, gaze indecipherable. They flitted to your lips, and for a second you were sure you stopped breathing.
Just do it! Just fucking do it! screamed that little voice in the back of your mind.
And perhaps you would’ve done it too, whatever it was, if it weren’t for the shove from behind that sent you almost face-planting into his chest.
“What the hell?” you yelped, whipping your head around. 
What was with the people here today? You never thought jazz lovers could be so aggressive and insensitive to others’ personal space. Trying to find the perpetrator was a futile task, since the crowd had started to disperse following the end of the performance, moving in all directions.
Jaehyun looked over you with concern, the earlier expression on his face now gone. 
“Come on,” he finally said, fingers gently circling around your wrist. “Let’s get out of here before we get trampled by the crowd.”
Overhead, the blue-black sky that had been so cooperative for the whole day emitted a low rumble, as if to emphasise Jaehyun’s words. Sure enough, by the time the two of you arrived at the station, it had started to sprinkle. Perhaps the clouds had been holding back the rain until the very end of the festival. How considerate of them, you thought.
The ride back into the city felt shorter than the one to the venue, though it couldn’t have been. Saturday nights were even busier than the weekday rush hour, with people young and old out and about, ready to tame the weekend with sheer determination and a bottle of soju in the stomach. This time, there were no free seats in your carriage, but you didn’t mind. Standing with Jaehyun, your heads pressed together to go through the videos in his camera roll, made the time pass faster. There was something to his photos, you decided. Something in the angle, or the light, or the composition, that made them look nicer than the ones on your phone. Maybe you ought to take a photography course too.
The clouds may have been considerate enough for the festival to hold off dumping their contents during the day, but they certainly were not for the two of you tonight. Standing under cover at the subway station exit, you watched as the torrential deluge only seemed to worsen. Thunder cracked angrily through the air. It wasn’t July without the threat of flash flooding. 
“Any drivers around?” Jaehyun asked.
You gave a sad shake of your head. “Nobody’s picking up my request. Must be because of the rain,” you muttered. Overhead, the sky split open with a strike of lightning, startling you, and you jumped back a bit, further into the covered area of the exit.
“How about the bus?”
“I think I just missed one,” you answered, checking the timetable on your phone. “It says the next isn’t for another twenty minutes. But with the rain, it might be delayed even longer.”
You flicked through the taxi app, then the bus timetable app, and then finally back to the weather app, which you always seemed to forget to check on days like this. Three consecutive 100% signs stared back at you, and you let out a sigh. The sky would not be clearing up anytime soon.
“My apartment is only two streets down, if you want somewhere to wait out the rain,” he said.
You looked up at him. The smile on his face was guileless, but at the same time, there was something guarded about it, like he was expecting your rejection. Perhaps you had studied his face for too long, because then he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and averting his eyes to the ground.
“Or you don’t have to, we could just—”
“Okay,” you said.
His head shot back up. “Okay?”
You shrugged, a smile finding its way to your lips. “I’d rather not be soaking wet on the bus.”
“Okay,” he repeated, corners of his mouth turning upwards to mirror yours. “To my place, then.”
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The usual five minute walk to Jaehyun’s apartment from the subway station turned into a two-and-a-half minute mad dash under the downpour. Despite your attempts at keeping to storefront shelters and ducking under the cover of big trees, the short trip had ended up with the both of you drenched to the bone, teeth chattering as you dripped rainwater all over his lobby.
You said a silent apology to the building cleaners. 
It was a relief to be dry again. Jaehyun’s sweats swamped you, the French terry fabric pooling around your feet as you sat on the couch in his living room. The top was no better, reaching almost to your knees, with the sleeves completely covering your fingertips. His clothes weren’t always this big on you. At least he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent. 
The sound of the running shower blended smoothly with the raindrops pelting violently against the balcony window. You wrung your hands, unsure of what to do while you waited for him to come out of the bathroom. It was easy to feel out of place in a home foreign to you. The sleek furniture and minimalist colour palette of the apartment looked nothing like Jaehyun’s childhood bedroom. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to come to his place. While you were pretty sure he hadn’t invited you up with any ulterior motives in mind, there was still something ambiguous about being in your ex-boyfriend’s home and wearing his clothes. And only his clothes. 
You would have liked to keep your undergarments on, but they had also been soaked through. Going bare in these too-big sweats had seemed the less questionable option, compared to sitting with a wet patch around your butt and crotch. Heat flooded your face as you thought about your underwear and bra hanging on the heated towel rack in the bathroom. 
Whatever. It wasn’t like they were things he’d never seen before. And as for his clothes, of course you’d wash them before giving them back to him. 
It was then that you decided that you had enough of sitting around in a puddle of fabric and your own thoughts. Jaehyun’s living room wasn’t all that big, even if it felt roomier than your own, with enough space to fit a decently-sized couch and small coffee table. The tv on the far wall sat atop a rather large entertainment unit that, upon further inspection, also housed a record player and an impressive collection of vinyls. 
You padded over, eyes flicking through the various titles printed on the covers. One of them had been taken out from the shelf and sat splayed on top of the cabinet. Maybe he had meant to play it, or just forgotten to put it away. Slowly, you let a finger trace around the edge of the jacket and over the black lettering of the title. You’d recognise that white album cover anywhere.
Only you knew how much effort it had taken to source the thing, scouring auction sites and dodgy online stores until you finally bit the bullet and ordered it from a reasonable-looking seller with a 4.7 star rating. But it had all been worth it. The unadulterated joy on Jaehyun’s face as he undid the wrapping paper to reveal Frank Ocean’s Blonde was not something you could easily forget. Later, you found out that it had probably been a bootleg, since the official Blonde vinyls were a limited release, but he had hardly batted an eye when you broke the news.
“Still my favourite birthday present that anyone’s gotten me,” Jaehyun said. 
Dressed in a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweatpants, he leant against the bathroom door, surveying you with an easy smile. You must not have heard the shower turn off, the noise drowned out by the storm raging outside. His hair, still damp from the shower, hung over his eyes, and you watched as he brushed it back with his right hand, arm flexing with the movement.
The sudden flare in your lower belly was something you’d rather not feel, alone in these four walls with him, with nobody else around to witness or put a stop to whatever might follow. You’d like to think self control was something you had a firm grip on, but it seemed Jaehyun was made to put you to the test.
“Actually think it might be my favourite present ever,” he added, pushing off the door frame. He reached you in a few strides, maintaining a polite distance between your bodies.
“I didn’t even realise you still had this,” you murmured, letting him take the record from your hands. You tried not to flinch at the brush of his fingers against yours. “You didn’t even have one of these back then,” you said, lightly tapping the case of the record player.
“I changed my mind, actually. The turntable is my favourite present.”
An unfamiliar twinge of dread zipped through you. “Who gave it to you?” 
Could it be an ex-lover’s gift sitting on display in his living room? That did not sit nicely in your stomach.
“Myself.” 
He was holding back a laugh, eyes squeezed into crescent moons and too busy appreciating his own joke to catch the quick roll of your eyes. Instantly, your chest felt a little lighter, and the dread vanished as quickly as it had come on.
“Here, let me put it on,” he said, shuffling over towards you to lift up the case on the record player. With gentle fingers and a delicateness you didn’t see often, he unsleeved the record and carefully placed it on the turntable. A few fiddles with the side knobs and a precise adjustment of the needle arm later, the opening bars of Frank Ocean’s Pink and White filled the air of his living room.
For a minute, there were no words exchanged, the two of you simply content to enjoy the music as it filtered through the speakers. There was a quiet smile on Jaehyun’s face. You wondered if he, like you, was thinking of the last time you had listened to this album together.
The image of the two of you, sprawled out on his bed, sharing a pair of wired earphones, was hard to shake. It had been early evening, or nearly twilight. Sometime before sunset. The reflection on the ceiling of his childhood bedroom had changed along with the sky, until the only light left in the room was the dim blue glow from the laptop on his desk. At his mother’s call for dinner, he had gently shaken you awake, fingers light on your shoulder and against your cheek. 
Jaehyun was undoubtedly handsome in the light. But there was something about dusk and the softness of the shadows on his face that made him all the more compelling. You usually weren’t one to initiate, so the kiss you pressed to his mouth in the barely-lit room had surprised you both. 
Even now, the thought strangely sent a flood of heat to your cheeks.
“Sorry, did you want something to eat? I haven’t been a very good host.”
The grumble of your stomach answered before you could. You bit back an embarrassed smile, but Jaehyun was not so frugal with his amusement, letting out a short chuckle. Your feet followed him as he made his way to the kitchen. Perched on the marble countertop, you watched as he rummaged through the fridge.
“I have eggs, yesterday’s leftovers, and a shit ton of beer cans,” he announced. 
You exchanged a glance.
“Let’s do ramen, actually. That sounds better.” He bent down to dig through the pantry, pulling out two red packets, before moving back to the fridge and getting two eggs. “I can crack these in too, and—why are you looking at me like that?”
It was your turn to laugh, the wide grin on your face a contrast to the cautious smile on his.
“Are we having ramen?”
His brow creased a little. “I thought you liked ramen?” The innocent tilt of his head made him all the more endearing to look at.
“I do, but
 did you really invite me back to your place
 to have ramen?”
It took a few seconds for the ball to drop. You held back giggles as his ears flushed hotly, as they always seemed to do on the occasions you decided to indulge yourself and tease him.
“Come on, that’s not—you’re doing it on purpose,” he said, bottom lip jutting out with the suggestion of a pout. Despite his grumbles, the shape of his mouth slowly settled into a defeated smile at your visible glee of having flustered him. 
Jaehyun, soft-spoken and easy-going, was not the type to be easily ruffled. You excelled and enjoyed the challenge of it more than most.
“No,” he said once your laughter had somewhat subsided, voice low and velvety. “But I wouldn’t be opposed.”
And suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore.
The silence that followed was a loud one. It was hard to ignore the way your mouth dried up at his words. Something warm and tingly spread from your stomach all the way down to your toes as you stood there under his level gaze, eyes drawn to his like magnets. He had to know. The effect his words had on you were surely plastered all over your face, obvious in the tight grip of your fingers against the countertop and the shortening of your breaths.
Jaehyun leaned in a little closer and you felt the inhale stick in the back of your throat. Then he cracked a crooked smile, pretty teeth all on display. 
“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”
He moved away then, busying himself with pouring water into a pot and bringing it to a boil while you tried to blink yourself out of the daze. “Ramen okay?” he asked over his shoulder.
You cleared your dry throat, somehow finding your voice again. “Ramen is fine. Thank you,” you added after a beat. You took a deep breath, waiting for the rush of blood to drain from your face. 
Something sour settled in your chest — something akin to disappointment, though surely it couldn’t be. Disappointed that what? Jaehyun wasn’t actually sexually attracted to you? When you were obviously still attracted to him, despite all your attempts at convincing yourself you weren’t?
You scoffed to yourself. As if.
A quick shake of your head was almost enough to clear your mind, save for the remnants of that sour feeling that lingered. You asked if there was anything you could do to help, not wanting to simply sit around on your thumbs and wait to be fed. He had insisted you do exactly that, warning you there was only enough space in the kitchen for one, and assuring that there was nothing he needed from you besides patience and faith in his cooking. 
Patience you could give him. Faith was a little harder to muster, given your memories of the kitchen disaster from when he had tried to make okonomiyaki. 
The questionable, half-burnt half-uncooked taste was one thing. You finding random pieces of cabbage on the tiled floor for days afterwards was another thing entirely.
However, it seemed Jaehyun had improved from his old ways. The steaming pot he brought over to the coffee table not only smelled delicious, but looked the part too. You helped carry over the small bowls and chopsticks, along with two cans of beer, despite his requests for you to just sit and be ready to eat.
You took the first bite, blowing on the noodles to cool them down before slurping them into your mouth. All the while, he watched you, an expectant expression painting his face. 
“Wow. You’ve grown up, Jeong Jaehyun. Who would’ve guessed you’d become such a whiz in the kitchen?” 
He smiled, a bashful one at your compliment. “Being able to cook ramen is nothing impressive,” he said, digging in with his own chopsticks.
“There was no way you could have made this for me when we were 17. Look at this egg!” The centre was perfectly soft, not too runny, but not rock hard either. Just the way you liked them. 
You took another mouthful. “You’re a changed man,” you said. “Honestly, your place is a lot cleaner than I expected it to be.”
“That’s what living with four other guys will do to you. I had to learn how to clean out of pure survival,” he chuckled. 
“Was it really that bad?”
He grimaced. “You should’ve seen my dorm room. Basically a biological hazard.”
“They didn’t let non-students into the building. Your building RA was crazy scary, remember?” Even now you could remember the perpetual scowl of the law major when Jaehyun brought you into the dorm lobby.
“It was probably for the best. You would’ve broken up with me on the spot the second you walked through the door.”
You shared a laugh. Strangely, jokes about your break-up were light-hearted in their landing, the words leaving much less of a prickly uncomfortableness than you had been expecting. Perhaps it was still an event of importance in your life, but that cloudy unpleasantness you had come to associate it with had dissipated. It was a turning point, certainly. But so was graduation, and moving out, and travelling overseas for the first time. 
Your feelings about those things weren’t all bad. As you shared the pot of ramen and sipped on your beers, you realised, neither were your feelings about Jaehyun.
“I’m telling you, I was drinking Taeyong under the table. And I do mean that literally. He was passed out and laid across the stools.” He grinned, proud at the memory of beating his senior even five years later. You couldn’t help but grin too, amused by the sincerity of his expression and the way his shoulders set in accomplishment.
“Okay, okay. So now you’re a better drinker, you’ve gotten good at cooking, and you’re cleaner too.”
“And funnier,” he added.
“That one is still up for debate,” you joked, and his eyebrows furrowed together in mock offence. Digs at his sense of humour were not taken lightly. 
“Just because you don’t get my high quality gags,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re missing out.”
You nodded, making a noise of agreement if only to appease him. 
“What about me? How am I different?” you asked, voice curious. 
Jaehyun didn’t miss a beat. “Hmm, I think you got older?”
“Come on, I’m being serious!”
His laughter subdued then, surveying you thoughtfully. A quiet smile tugged at his lips when he spoke again. 
“You’re more outspoken than you used to be.” He paused, taking a sip from his can while trying to find the right words, all the while keeping his eyes on you. “You prioritise yourself more. And you’re more sure of who you are. You shine brighter, I think.”
Strange, how a person’s gaze could strip you down and make you feel so naked. There was nothing but earnestness in his eyes, plain and absolute, and the intensity of it was almost too much for you to bear. After all your time apart, Jaehyun could still see you, and see through you. 
I think you still know me inside out, and that scares me, you wanted to tell him.
Instead, you looked away first, tearing your eyes away from his with considerable effort. The pot of ramen on the coffee table, lukewarm now, was almost finished. The music had also stopped playing a while ago. Neither you or Jaehyun had bothered to get up and flip the vinyl to the other side, too busy eating. All that was left was the rain, and even that had faded to a soft pattering against the glass, following its own rhythm. 
Hastily, you stuffed a piece of kimchi into your mouth, for lack of anything better to do. The crunch of it in your mouth was loud, and you fought back a cringe.
“Did your mother make this?” you asked, hoping your attempt at diverting the conversation wasn’t so obvious.
If Jaehyun noticed, he didn’t show it, only nodding in confirmation. 
“She dropped some off last month,” he replied. “Remember how you told me her’s was better than your own mother’s?”
You let out a scandalised gasp. “As if I would ever say such a thing! Don’t let my mother ever hear something so blasphemous about her favourite daughter.”
“You’re her only daughter.”
“And you care too much about technicalities. Just because I’m the only one doesn’t mean I can’t still be the favourite.”
The crisp crunch of another piece of kimchi punctuated the end of your sentence. There was certainly something different about Mama Jeong’s recipes. If there was one thing you missed besides Jaehyun himself, it would have been his mother’s cooking. The woman knew her way around a stovetop better than a Michelin chef, at least in your eyes. 
You thought of her warm smile, and her even warmer embrace. Jaehyun had inherited many things from her, kindness being the greatest of them. Back then, she had been so sure of your future place in their family, welcoming you into her home as if you were her own daughter. You wondered where she stood on that now.
Still clinging onto that idea, perhaps, or were her sights now set on someone else?
“You’ve got something
”  Jaehyun murmured.
He reached across the table, over the pot and the small bowls, the movement quick and almost instinctive. Soft fingers found purchase on your left cheek. His thumb was gentle as it brushed away the stray chilli flake from the corner of your mouth.
Just the lightest touch against your bottom lip. And the warmth of his hand cradling your face.
Then he froze, as if to catch himself, but the damage was already done.
Jaehyun pulled his hand back with a start, an inscrutable expression across his face. He spilled a quick apology that you smiled away, putting on a composed front. At least, you assumed it was an apology. It was hard to hear anything above the buzzing chaos of your mind. The air filled with idle noise as the two of you shuffled in your seats.
“I should um—I should probably get going,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. The meal had long been finished. Your hands were already beginning to gather up the bowls and utensils into a stack for easy carrying. 
Jaehyun hummed, something akin to resignation in the noise. “Yeah, uh
 I guess so.”
“Let me help you clean up first, and then I’ll be on my way.”
Despite his protests against you assisting with any kind of housework, there you were at the sink, helping him scrub everything nice and clean within the small space of his kitchen. Maybe he was right about there only being enough space for one person behind the counter. The aluminium beer cans went into their designated bins, and you made sure to wipe down the coffee table too.
This time, your half-damp, half-dried clothes found their way into a Byredo shopping bag — Jaehyun would rather die than not smell good — though your shoes still squelched rather uncomfortably when you slipped your bare feet in. By luck, you were able to book a taxi and could pass on the wet walk to the bus stop.
You thanked him again for bringing you along, noting that you probably got more out of the alleged ‘favour’ than he did. 
“Trust me, going with you made the whole thing so much better,” he said, both cheeks dimpling in your favourite smile of his. “And let me know if you need to get the film on your camera developed. I know a place.”
The ride home was flavoured by a sudden loneliness. Maybe it was the view of the city at night, or the absence of people out on the rainy streets, that had an empty feeling settle in your chest. 
Perhaps you should have delayed leaving his apartment. Perhaps you shouldn’t have left at all, and instead weathered the night away with Jaehyun on the couch, some slasher flick playing on the television while you shook under the blankets and tried not to scream at the jumpscares, like you used to. You never did understand why he liked horror films as much as he did.
Perhaps he’d slot his fingers between your own and give them a reassuring squeeze, and gaze at you with the kind of amused fondness he only ever reserved for you.
Heat flooded your face. As if you were entertaining the thought of spending the night at your ex-boyfriend’s place. And getting butterflies at the thought of holding hands? 
How embarrassing.
One thing was for certain. The walls you had put up were cracking, and there seemed to be little hope of patching them up.
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“Will you stop messing with that thing?”
Jungwoo clicked his tongue against his teeth, fingers still fiddling with the ribbon on the gift bag. 
“It’s not straight,” he grumbled, pulling at the bow.
“You’re so pedantic.”
“It’s called being detail-oriented,” he fired back, leaning against the backseat of the taxi with a sigh.
You raised an eyebrow. “You say that like I’m not.”
“Well,” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. His mouth formed the shape of a smirk. 
You flicked a glance towards the rearview mirror, checking to see if the driver was paying attention to the two of you in the back. After verifying he was not, you landed a few (soft
ish) punches on Jungwoo’s upper arm, revelling in the shocked little noises he made, along with a few mumbles of ‘that actually hurts’ and ‘crazy woman’. 
How nice it was to let your hands fly without the threat of some other fifth floor witness reporting you for physical harassment. 
“I’m telling Joy the present is entirely from me,” you warned, turning around to face the front again.
“Right, except the card inside says my name too. So that’s not going to work.”
You reached into the gift bag, pulling out said card before rolling down the window. “Let me just throw this out.”
It was Jungwoo’s turn to deliver a light smack to your wrist. You dropped the envelope back in the bag, not without tossing an eye-roll his way. He knew just as well as you did that there was no real substance behind the threats — banter with Jungwoo was more for amusement than anything else. Deep down, you were quite fond of him, even if your actions tended to say otherwise, and you’d like to wager he quite enjoyed your company too. 
You couldn’t wait to get a few shots in him later tonight. Word had it he was a notorious lightweight. 
“Hopefully nobody vomits. I’d hate to be cleaning that up in my own house.” He shuddered at the thought. 
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” you smiled sweetly, patting him on the shoulder. “You just focus on sticking to your limit, okay? I heard what happened at last year’s wrap up event.”
He bristled. “Nothing happened! It honestly wasn’t even that bad. I’m getting unfairly slandered,” he sulked. “I think you should stop hanging out with Joy so much.”
“Yeah, alright. Should we just skip her birthday party and turn the car around then?”
“Shut up.”
The taxi pulled up in front of Joy’s apartment complex, a tall modern thing with much bigger windows than your own building. And so much more glass, too. After splitting the taxi fare with Jungwoo, the two of you stood at the entrance, waiting for the intercom to connect. 
“Are you sure you pressed the right buttons?” Jungwoo asked, peering over your shoulder.
“Yes, of course. Apartment 814.”
“Maybe you should let me try.”
You let out a sigh. “It’s three numbers, Jungwoo. How is it going to be any different if it’s you pressing them instead of me? Do you think the keypad is going to magically—”
“Hello?” 
An unfamiliar male voice crackled through the intercom. “Are you here for Joy?” 
“Yes,” you and Jungwoo answered in unison. 
“Great, I’ll come down to get you guys now. Will only be a minute!” and then the line disconnected.
You and Jungwoo exchanged a glance. “Is he going to let us in?” you asked. 
“He literally said he’d come down to get us,” he answered flatly. “Do you not listen?”
“It was hard to hear him clearly with all the noise in the background,” you grumbled in defence. Hopefully Joy’s walls were thicker than your own, and her neighbours would not lodge a complaint halfway through the night.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal the face of the intercom answerer. It wasn’t detective work to match up the real thing to the pictures Joy would sometimes show you, though he looked taller in real life than he did in the photos from their weekend Jeju trip.
“Sorry about the wait, it was a bit hard to hear the doorbell,” he greeted, ushering you both inside with a warm smile. “I’m Doyoung, by the way.”
You and Jungwoo both introduced yourselves as you stepped into the elevator after him, to which he responded with a hum in recognition, and a knowing grin.
“Are you on door duty for the night?” Jungwoo asked.
Doyoung nodded, pressing on the button for the eighth floor. “It appears I am. She has her hands full with guests to entertain, so,” he trailed off, eyes glazing over for a split second, “you’ll see what I mean when we get up there.”
You had never imagined that a 2-bedroom apartment could fit so many people. Granted, it was nothing compared to the kind of parties you frequented during your university days where cheap spirits and green soju bottles lined the counter, but it was quite a distant cry from the gathering you thought it would be. Judging by the look on Jungwoo’s face, he had not been expecting this either. 
There had to be at least forty people. It almost made you wonder why she didn’t just book out a space instead of letting everyone invade her and her boyfriend’s shared home.
Doyoung made his exit rather quickly after letting you in, probably off to tend to one of his many other duties as unofficial host — poor guy was likely in for a very busy night — leaving you and Jungwoo to fend for yourselves in the entryway of the apartment. There was barely any room left in the tiled space for you to put your shoes.
How did Joy even know this many people? was the thought at the forefront of your mind as you helped Jungwoo stack his sneakers next to yours on a rack further down the hallway. Her present was left on a table near the entry piled with gift bags and wrapped boxes that you assumed was the designated drop-off area. 
Speaking of the birthday girl, you spotted her mingling in the living room and pointed her out to Jungwoo, though it was no easy feat finding her. The number of people, coupled with the dim ambient lighting, made it a challenge to recognise familiar faces. Joy, champagne glass in hand, was swept away in conversation with one of the most beautiful women you had ever laid eyes on. The gorgeous lady held a matching champagne flute in one hand, while the other was wrapped around the arm of—
“Junmyeon? What the hell is he doing here with that beautiful woman?” 
Jungwoo took the words right out of your mouth, a somewhat displeased noise making its way past his lips. You couldn’t help but echo the sentiment.
“Can’t believe this turned into a work function the moment we stepped through the door,” you all but groaned. “And here I thought having you around was bad enough already.”
You expertly dodged the elbow he jabbed into your side.
Joy spotted the two of you then, lingering by the kitchen, and quickly excused herself from the conversation to rush over. The champagne wobbled precariously in her glass as she approached, engulfing the two of you in a sweet-smelling hug.
“My little children! I’m so glad you could make it!” she cried, resting her chin in the space between your shoulder and Jungwoo’s. You exchanged a glance with the boy amidst the chorus of ‘happy birthday’s. 
There was a 77% chance she was drunk already.
“Had a little too much fun tonight?” you asked, helping to prop her upright again.
Joy only beamed in response. “All the more fun now that you two are here. My favourite fifth floor prisoners.” She gave your cheek a soft pinch.
“Quick question,” Jungwoo began, “why is our manager in your house?”
“With his arm around a beautiful woman way out of his league?” you added, swatting her fingers away from your face.
“That’s my sister Irene,” she said, like it was common knowledge. 
You raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you have a sister?”
“Okay, well not my real sister,” she amended, hurriedly waving off your words. “She was a senior in my department. I was really close with her back in university, so, basically my sister. I think we look pretty alike, honestly.”
“And her relation to Junmyeon is
?”
Joy threw a conspiratorial glance around before leaning in, beckoning the two of you closer. This time, a few drops of the champagne did manage to escape via the side of her glass, narrowly missing Jungwoo’s white socks.
“I set them up. On a date!” she whispered, eyes glinting with pride. Why she chose to whisper when it was already hard enough to hear her above the noise at her normal speaking level was beyond you.
You blinked at her a few times. “You set up a goddess like that
 with our manager?”
Joy waved another hand dismissively. “Oh, please. Like Junmyeon’s not handsome too. You only think that because you’re too used to seeing him frown and squint at a monitor.” 
You cast a glance in his direction. Maybe she was right. Junmyeon did look somewhat more like a human without his glasses and the semi-permanent lines etched into his forehead. He even looked (dare you say it) quite nice. But maybe it was the poor lighting that made it seem that way.
“Anyways, it’s been about
 two months now? I think they look pretty good together,” she mused, following your gaze. 
Junmyeon must have said something funny — a rather loose use of the word by your standards — because Irene had her lovely face scrunched up in a laugh, the pitched sound of it ringing out clearly above the noise of the apartment. In her amusement, she even threw a hand out to slap him lightly on the arm, which he appeared very pleased by.
Sure, you laughed at his jokes too, but it was more out of corporate self-preservation than actual amusement. 
“He kind of has been in a better mood recently,” Jungwoo said thoughtfully.
Joy grabbed his hand with fervour. “Yes, exactly! See? Thanks to my sacrifice, we can all enjoy a nicer, much more pleasant office environment.”
“I’d hardly call that a sacrifice,” you chuckled. “You take too much pleasure in playing matchmaker.” Joy’s response was nothing more than a guilty smile, followed by her emptying the rest of the glass.
It was then that you heard it — the deep, reverberating laugh that always bordered a little bit on breathlessness. It was slightly unnerving how quickly you could pinpoint the sound of his voice without even seeing him, or knowing that he had entered the room. 
You turned around first, eyes drawn to the entry hallway in search of the face to which the laugh belonged. Of course he was going to be here. You knew that. He had said as much two days ago, bidding you farewell across the cafeteria table with a promise to ‘see you on the weekend at Joy’s’.
Lunch with Jaehyun had recently become a rarer occurrence. From what he told you, and the bits of information you gleaned from Joy about Digital, Johnny had pulled Jaehyun onto his team to try and get a firmer grip on the reins not even two weeks ago. Already, the intensity of the new workload was obvious.
You certainly saw him less, much to your disappointment — you could admit that to yourself now.
Jaehyun emerged from the hallway then, midway through another laugh with an arm slung around Doyoung’s shoulders. Funny, how all the other faces were so murky and hard to identify under the dim lighting. And yet, the shape of his dimpled smile was unmistakable to you, as bright as the beacon of a lighthouse on the midnight sea. 
Doyoung scanned the room, catching sight of Joy with you and Jungwoo. He gestured at his girlfriend, and Jaehyun obediently turned in your direction, likely wanting to give his greetings to the birthday girl.
Your eyes locked, and your heart gave a woeful little squeeze in your chest.
“I’m just going to do a quick check on the drink inventory,” Doyoung said as they approached, “I’ll be right back. And please take care of my favourite guest.” With a final friendly pat on Jaehyun’s shoulder, he was off, ducking into the kitchen. 
“Happy birthday!” Jaehyun beamed, arms circling around Joy in a hug which she enthusiastically returned. He grabbed Jungwoo’s hand, pulling him in for one of those man greetings. (Since when were they close?) Their apparent friendship was an unexpected development. 
And then it was your turn. You wondered if it was as easy for others to find solace in a mere gaze as you did with Jaehyun. His eyes did not stray far, wandering around your face, something tender and comforting in his appraisal of your features. A hand came up to brush against your lower back, a gentle and quiet greeting against the excitement of the previous two. His lips pulled into a soft smile as he called your name in greeting. 
“You two are ridiculous,” Joy scoffed.
You inhaled sharply. Was it really that easy to tell? The depth of your attachment?
“You planned this, right? I mean seriously, matching outfits?” she asked, gesturing at you and Jaehyun.
You blinked a few times, looking down blankly at yourself. The dark wash denim and white silk that you had picked out yesterday looked back at you familiarly. Then you glanced at Jaehyun, taking in his white t-shirt, half tucked into a pair of jeans that were exactly the same wash as yours. 
The coordination was completely unintentional — you had no idea what you were going to wear tonight the last time you had spoken to him — but the look on Joy’s face told you there was no use in trying to convince her of the truth. 
(You would’ve argued that the cowl neck of your white silk top elevated your outfit above Jaehyun’s plain white tee, but you digressed.)
“Okay. I’m done with this,” Jungwoo said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’m going to do what single people do, and that is to get a goddamn drink.”
“Me too, another bubbly,” Joy chimed, grasping onto Jungwoo’s arm as he turned to leave for the kitchen. “See my success rate? Let me set you up with someone. My hairdresser’s daughter went to Korea University Business School and graduated not too long ago.” 
The rest of her appeal to play matchmaker for Jungwoo was swallowed up by the music and chatter of her guests. And then it was just you, and Jaehyun, and the thirty other people filling up the living room. 
The two of you shared a glance before dissolving into a few light giggles. 
“I do think I pull it off better,” you teased, giving Jaehyun another once-over. He was as handsome as always, the white cotton draped picturesquely across his lean frame while the dark jeans made his mile-long legs look even longer. He could wear a garbage bag and make it look couture. 
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he said with a crooked smile. 
He raised his arm to reveal the denim jacket draped across his arm that you hadn’t noticed before, too busy making sad little googly eyes at him that you hoped other people couldn’t see. The jacket was coloured in the same wash as his jeans, and your own. 
You gave a scandalised gasp. “No, a matching set? How am I supposed to beat that?”
“You can’t. You can only admit defeat to the double denim. I out-Justin-Timberlaked you.”
“Justin Timberlake is not a verb.”
He only grinned in response, teeth pearly and eyes sparkling as he took in the slight pout of your mouth. 
“Whatever,” you conceded with a wave of your hand, though a smile crept its way onto your face. “You win. Let’s get something to drink.”
Jungwoo and Joy were nowhere to be found when the two of you made your way to the kitchen. What you did find was an impressive selection of bottles atop the marble counter, a selection that easily outdid the ones from your university days in both quality and variety. 
At least one thing was the same. Green soju bottles were always a dependable presence. 
“Shall we go for your favourite?” Jaehyun asked, holding up what looked to be a bottle of wine. You moved a little closer, peering at the label through his fingers.
“I do enjoy a good red,” you replied, accepting the glass he offered you with a quiet ‘thank you’. You took a small sip — because tonight, you felt no need to gulp down alcohol like a camel to ease your nerves — before adding, “Merlot is far from my favourite though.”
“Really?’ He raised an eyebrow. “I do seem to remember how you pretty much finished a whole bottle by yourself. At dinner, that time at the Italian place.”
You held back a wince at the recollection of that fated blind date. Of course he’d remember that. It would be hard to forget the way you all but sculled down three full glasses in the time it took him to finish one. A quick sideways glance revealed the slight upturn to the corners of his mouth, paired with a telling glint in his eyes. Jaehyun was teasing.
“It was honestly quite impressive,” he said, lips curling into a full-blown smile now.
“That was different,” you said. The next sip went down a little faster than you would have liked. “That was out of necessity.” 
There was no way I could’ve made it through that night without alcohol in my system, you almost said, but caught yourself just in time. 
A few seconds passed before either of you spoke again.
“Were you really upset to see me?”
Gone was the playful lilt to his voice. This question was asked softly, carefully, the sound of it so delicate you were afraid it would shatter in the air at your clumsy reply. Slowly, you turned to look at him, seeking the reassurance you were sure you could find in his eyes, but they had moved to the contents of his own glass. You followed their path, watching as he gave the liquid a few absent-minded swirls.
“Maybe. A little, I think,” you admitted. “I don’t know. There was a lot going on in my head that day. When I realised it was you.”
A pair of giggling women — Joy’s guests who you didn’t know — approached the counter, one of them tentatively reaching for something in front of you. Noticing her struggle, you shuffled slightly towards Jaehyun, trying to make some space around the counter. The one with her hand outstretched flashed you a grateful smile, which you politely returned, although with far less vigour. 
Perhaps the bustling kitchen in the centre of all the foot traffic wasn’t the best place for a conversation like this.
There was some fussing with the bottle cap, or whatever it was that they couldn’t quite get to work, followed by a considerably clean pour for two people who were clearly not quite sober. Then they were gone, giggling the entire way out of the kitchen and freeing up the space around you.
If you wanted to, you could have stepped back and returned to your original spot before their arrival. Put some more distance between you and Jaehyun again. Not that you were seriously encroaching on his personal space, but it was enough for you to recognise the proximity.
Instead, you took the smallest of steps closer and placed a hand on his forearm. His eyes flitted down at the touch, taking in the way your fingers lay feather-light on his skin, just above the ridge of his wrist. 
“I’m glad it was you,” you said. The words were true, but the honesty of them still tasted odd on your tongue, and you fought back a cringe. Jaehyun finally turned to meet your eyes, some semblance of hope, or maybe it was relief that coloured his expression. “And I’m glad we’re here, now,” you added.
You hoped he knew you weren’t talking about the far right corner of Joy’s kitchen.
Jaehyun smiled, and it was like the sun had finally risen up over the stark mountain peak, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. It was the kind of warmth you didn’t realise you craved until the full force of it spilled over you, washing away the blue and the cold. 
“Me too,” he said softly.
Even if you hadn’t fallen victim to Joy’s schemes, you would like to think the two of you would still end up here, only via longer and slightly different routes. Perhaps an unexpected run-in in the lobby on a Tuesday morning, or the eventual and excruciatingly awkward introduction through Joy. Whatever it may have been, you’d like to think you would’ve found your way to each other again eventually. 
Curiosity tickled your mind. “What about you?”
“Hmm?”
He was still smiling, the lines by his nose just visible, and he had his eyes on you, though there was a faraway look about them. Something about his gaze reminded you of the way you’d regard a painting, framed and hung up on a wall in some art museum — carefully examining the details of the brushstrokes against the canvas, yet all the while trying to hold the whole piece in your mind’s eye, and let it touch the surface of that primal emotion somewhere inside of you. The depth of his gaze was enough to make you self-conscious, and you quickly averted your eyes, taking another sip from your glass. It was a good excuse to school your features before you spoke again.
“How did you feel when you saw me? Were you upset?”
Jaehyun regarded his own glass wistfully. “Not exactly upset, no,” he began, though a movement in his peripheral had him trailing off. 
Another of Joy’s guests had appeared, hovering beside the two of you with his eyes set on the bottle of whiskey directly in front of you. Politely, Jaehyun side-stepped away from the counter and wrapped a gentle hand around the bend of your elbow, guiding you out of the hectic buzz of the kitchen. It stayed there, warm and comforting, until you found your way back to the open space of the living room, and even then he was slow to let you go, fingertips lingering a just second too long before they retreated back to his side. 
“I think I was surprised, more than anything,” he continued. “Didn’t really know what to expect, not that I was expecting much. I never even thought I’d get to see you again after university. Thought you were gone for good.”
He paused, one side of his mouth quirking up slightly. The movement was small, and you wondered if you were supposed to have caught it at all.
“You stood there, with your bag in one hand and your cardigan in the other, looking like you were waiting for me to spontaneously combust—”
“Okay, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“—and all I could think about was how you were even prettier than I remembered. And back then I already thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.”
At that, you were quiet. Whatever silly rebuttal or attempt to defend yourself died quickly on your tongue as you let his confession settle beneath your skin, warming it from the inside out. Jaehyun was not even one bit fazed, looking like he had just said something trivial about the weather, or stated some objective fact like ‘grass is green’. For him, honesty had never been the heavy, cumbersome challenge it was for you. Judging by the resigned smile on his face, he wasn’t expecting some grand response from you either, which was all the better, because god, what were you supposed to say to something like that?
“Oh, there you are,” came a voice from behind you, followed by a hand on your shoulder. 
Joy’s timing was impeccable, as always.
“Sorry, this one is coming with me,” she said to Jaehyun, looping her arm around yours with half-drunken determination. “Us fifth-floors have some business to settle. With darts.”
Your eyes followed the direction of her outstretched arm, where sure enough, there was a dartboard hanging on the wall by the balcony. Jungwoo was there, standing obediently with his hands crossed in front of his stomach as he politely nodded along to whatever Junmyeon was animatedly saying. The beer bottle Jungwoo cradled, now forgotten, seemed more like an accessory than an actual beverage. He caught your eye and sent you a frantic look.
You whipped your head back to Jaehyun. “Please don’t let her take me.” 
Surely, he could see the pleading, the desperation in your eyes.
Jaehyun, having witnessed the whole exchange between you and Jungwoo, only grinned. “It does sound like some serious business,” he said, cheeks dimpling. Joy made a noise of agreement and gave your arm a little tug.
“You’re more than welcome to come and spectate, Jaehyun,” she called out over her shoulder as she herded you towards her destination. His only response was a hearty laugh. You stared at him in despair as you were towed away by the birthday girl. Next time you’d invite his boss to the function.
The game of darts (or seven games, if you were being precise) was decidedly less awful than you had expected. Junmyeon had promised not to speak about work and by some miracle, actually stuck to his word. Maybe you even got to know the guy a little better, outside of his office habits like the specific order in which he drank his three teas everyday (yuja, then chamomile, and lastly peppermint). Like you, he was somewhat of a wine enthusiast, though his knowledge of French vineyards was far superior to yours. 
By the third round, the game had clearly left your little work circle. Jaehyun joined in at one point, competitiveness getting the better of him. Doyoung tried his hand too, and he was honestly abysmal, but smiled the whole time and seemed to be enjoying himself, even if he had to pick the darts off the floor on every turn. Out of all the players over the course of the seven games, Junmyeon’s date Irene had been the most unexpected hidden card, scoring three bullseyes in a row. 
Oh, to be a goddess and have perfect hand-eye coordination. 
“You feeling okay?” you asked a rather blank-looking Jungwoo. His eyes were beginning to droop, and so was the rest of his body, long limbs sprawled out against the leather. You could swear he only had his initial bottle of beer and the two celebratory soju shots Joy had forced him to take (from which you were not exempt either), and yet here he was, half-asleep on the couch.
“Hmm,” was his eloquent reply.
The party was slowly drawing to a close, the living room much emptier now than it had been when you first walked in. Junmyeon and Irene had made their departure some twenty minutes ago, and there were only a handful of guests left, most of them getting ready to leave as well. Grown adults didn’t gamble with their sleep schedules. 
Doyoung emerged from the hallway, running a hand through the mess of hair on top of his head, already tousled from the fifty or so times he had repeated the action throughout the night.
“Okay, she’s knocked out,” he sighed. On his face, you glimpsed the first sign of relief you had seen all night. “I don’t think she’s going to puke, but I left a bucket by the bed just in case.”
You flashed him a grateful smile. “Thank you for tonight. I can’t imagine it was easy having to wrangle all these people for so long.”
“Oh, it’s no big deal. As long as Joy’s happy and had a good time.” 
Even though he was clearly exhausted, Doyoung smiled, and the fondness held within it felt like a private thing you shouldn’t have witnessed. Your mind went, now as it always did, to a certain dimpled smile.
“I’d better get this one home,” you said instead, gesturing at Jungwoo slumped on the couch. You turned towards the boy, patting his shoulder gently. “Come on, time to go.”
“Mmffh.” 
Another brilliant and enlightening response.
The owner of your favourite dimpled smile stepped out from the bathroom to the sight of you struggling to get Jungwoo upright enough to loop an arm around your shoulders. The half-asleep boy was lean, but definitely heavier than he looked, or perhaps the few glasses of wine over the course of the night had sapped some of the strength from your body. Jaehyun was at your side in an instant, shouldering most of Jungwoo’s weight as the two of you dragged him to a standing position.
“I’ll come with you,” he said, no room for discussion in his tone. You had no mind to protest anyway. 
Doyoung was already busying himself with clearing plates and glasses from the living area when Jaehyun bid him farewell. The guy seemed to have formulated a detailed plan of attack to get his apartment back to the no-doubt spotless state it had been prior to tonight.
“I sorted out most of the empty bottles so you should be able to just throw them out in the morning,” Jaehyun said over his shoulder. He crouched on the ground, guiding Jungwoo’s disobedient left foot into the correct shoe, carefully doing up the laces once both feet were inside their corresponding sneakers. 
You tossed a glance back at Doyoung whizzing around the place like a Roomba, feeling a pang of guilt for not having done much to help him clean up. Even though you had been a much more gracious and tidy guest than other people in Joy’s company, you couldn’t help but feel like there was more you could’ve done, apart from babysitting a very not-sober Jungwoo and making sure he didn’t crack his head open on the corner of the coffee table. 
“It’s fine,” Jaehyun said softly. You turned to look at him, half-surprised, and he only flashed you a small smile. “Doyoung likes to clean. I think he finds comfort in it.”
He was fluent as ever in your micro-expressions. Maybe one day you’d learn to stop being surprised by it. 
The taxi back to Jungwoo’s place was shorter than you had expected. His head lolled between your shoulder and Jaehyun’s in the backseat, before finally finding a home in Jaehyun’s lap. Even when you finally tucked the younger boy safely into his own bed — after going to great lengths to extract his building code which involved a series of profuse apologies to his neighbours who you had mistakenly rung in the middle of the night — there was an impressive imprint on his right cheek that exactly matched the side seam on Jaehyun’s jeans. You could’ve sworn there was a small, wet patch of drool left behind on the denim, and you were sure Jaehyun himself had noticed it too, but he gave no indication of complaint.
“Are you far from here?” Jaehyun asked once the elevator had brought the both of you back down to Jungwoo’s lobby.
“I’m actually just a fifteen minute walk away,” you answered.
The invitation in your voice was silent, and you knew he would’ve accompanied you home even if you lived on the other side of the city. Still, some achingly pleasant emotion settled over you when you heard his footsteps fall in with yours against the pavement. He took his place between you and the open street, shielding you from the bustle of late night delivery bikes and club bound taxis.
Though the days still resembled summer, nights were when the beginnings of autumn could reveal itself. The slight chill in the air was not unbearable, but still noticeable against your bare arms, and just enough for goosebumps to spring up on the skin there. Before you could even bring your hands up to wrap them around yourself, Jaehyun shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, drawing the collar close around your neck. The stiff denim was a little rough, but warm from his body heat all the same, with faint traces of his woody scent lingering on the fabric.
Jaehyun thrust his hands in his pockets and grinned. “Now you out-Justin-Timberlake me.”
“Still not a real word.”
You supposed there was something about night-time that made it feel all the more forgiving to the emotional afflictions of the human condition. Perhaps it was only against the muted palette of the midnight blue sky and the dimly lit city streets that you felt brave enough to face the truth of your feelings, without agonising over the consequences of acknowledging them. Even so, you found yourself wishing the night would stretch on for just a little longer. Honesty always seemed to wear off faster than it came on.
“You’ve been crazy busy lately.”
Jaehyun’s responding laugh contained little amusement. “Crazy busy is one way to put it. I can’t believe Johnny has had to deal with all of this the whole time. This client is so,” he paused, trying to find the right word, before finally settling on “demanding.” The look in his eyes gave you the feeling there were many other more colourful adjectives he wanted to use instead.
The two of you passed the convenience store corner of your street. Your place was not too far up ahead, the glass building doors almost visible if you squinted. The night was coming to an end, and something cold and heavy settled in your chest to accompany the realisation.
“They want us in New York working on the new client site as soon as possible, so we’ve been running around trying to get visas and everything sorted,” he sighed. 
Your footsteps faltered. 
“You’re going to New York?” you asked. 
He nodded. 
“When?”
“Within the next week, if everything comes back approved.”
You hadn’t even noticed that you had come to a standstill until Jaehyun’s footsteps also slowed to a stop. The both of you stood like that, under the dim glow from the streetlights, in the middle of the sidewalk. 
“We’ll probably be there until the end of the year, at least until the design piece is done,” he said. 
Did your face betray the sudden drop of your stomach? Did the sound of a fissure cracking through your chest escape through the slight parting of your lips?
It was silly, really. That one small piece of information could turn your entire world on its head. International travel on a project wasn’t a rare occurrence. And you supposed you would’ve found out sooner or later, even if he hadn’t told you, because he had no obligation to update you about every development in his life, even if they involved crossing continents. Even if you wanted to know every little detail. 
Jaehyun’s eyes moved from his shoes to your face. The shadows cast by the streetlights made it hard to decipher his expression, but you thought there was a pleading look to his handsome face. What he was pleading for, you weren’t entirely sure. 
You cleared your throat and finally found your voice again. “That’s really exciting, Jaehyun,” you managed, trying to keep your tone light. “I hear New York is gorgeous this time of year.”
The smile you pasted on your face was a flimsy one, and you could feel your top lip begin to tremble when he didn’t quite return it. Before it could turn into a grimace, you let the corners of your mouth fall. There had never been any use in putting on an act in front of him. Unsure what else to say without sounding insincere — though you were excited for him, truly, this little fit of sadness was a silly thing that would pass surely and quickly — you turned and resumed your steps towards your apartment. 
Another few minutes and you’d be in the safety of your own home. Free to let your top lip tremble and quiver, and let the inexplicable lump in your throat force its way out, rather than try to swallow it down.
It only took a few steps for you to realise that Jaehyun had not followed. You looked over your shoulder to find him standing there by the streetlight, eyes fixed on the ground again. 
“I don’t want to go,” he said, toeing at a crack in the concrete. “If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t. I don’t want to leave
”
You.
He may not have said that last word, but you heard it all the same. Your chest squeezed with emotion you couldn’t quite place.
“But you have to,” you said softly. A gentle breeze blew through the early autumn air and you briefly wondered if your words had been carried adrift.
He looked up at you then, eyes burning into yours with unspoken sentiments. A thousand words were conveyed with that one look, those few seconds in which you understood everything he wanted to say, and nothing he wanted to say, because he hadn’t said much at all. Just like how he could read your emotions with a simple glance at your face, you saw his reluctance. You saw the irresolution in his resolve, and how it wavered as he turned over in his mind the things he wanted to say to you, and how much of his heart he was willing to risk. 
“But I have to,” he agreed. 
Jaehyun still knew you inside out, yes, but you knew him too.
Your feet dragged over the last few hundred metres to your apartment complex, until you finally reached the door and there was nothing left you could do to delay the inevitable.
“Here,” you said, handing his jacket back to him. “Thank you for walking me home.”
He took it from your outstretched hand, fingers just brushing your knuckles. “Of course.”
And maybe Jaehyun was just as unwilling to let you go. His feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete pavement in front of your building, even though you were pretty sure no harm would befall you across the five steps into the lobby. The two of you stood there for a while, neither quite knowing what to say, or how to ward off the odd melancholy you knew he felt too.
There were so few guarantees of forever in life. You knew that. And even if you had never really gotten him back in the first place, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing him again. Except this time, he wouldn’t just be a 67-minute subway ride away. This time, he’d be a 14-hour flight away, on the other side of not the city but the world, with 7,000 miles and the entire Pacific Ocean separating you. 
And yes, he’d come back eventually, but who could promise that the feelings between the two of you now would be the same upon his return? You knew that you were in no position to demand he refrain from exploring other romantic pursuits, to deter him from making new connections in the diverse metropolis that was New York City, and all the excitement and energy that came with it. 
You had unknowingly gotten in the way of that once.
“Well, I’d better get inside,” you said quietly, gesturing at the building behind you. Jaehyun only nodded.
This was it. All things must come to an end, you thought as you walked up to the lobby door. Even if they never really started. Perhaps you and your hesitance to let him in had played the biggest part of all, and whatever it was between you and Jaehyun wouldn’t be ending before it began if you had only been more forgiving at the start. Less pointy and disagreeable. Perhaps then you would be parting now on more certain terms, and you’d carry some peace of mind knowing he’d be coming back to you, instead of the crushing weight of disappointment currently lodged underneath your sternum.
And yet, what difference did it make? You’d be losing him anyway, no matter what you did. In two weeks’ time, he’d be sitting in a conference room on a different continent, regardless of whether you said nothing or cussed him out to his face right now.
Your hand froze on the steel handle for only a second before you turned around to face him again. Three determined strides was all it took to close the distance between you. 
“What is it?” he asked.
There had been few occasions where you had seen Jaehyun drunk, or at least not sober, in the years you had known him. Your split early on in university had not afforded you many chances to witness his supposedly high tolerance in action at weekend benders. Nothing more than a few underage sips snuck from his dad’s glass at the dinner table. You took a second now to look at him, really look at him, taking in all the details of the face you knew almost as well as your own. 
Pink. Everything about him was so pink, from the slight tinge around the whites of his eyes, to the lingering flush in the apples of his cheeks.
To the pretty colour of his soft, full lips. 
They parted with confusion when you approached. Carefully, you reached out a hand and placed it against his cheek, feeling the way he leaned into your touch almost immediately. His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of moments before they were searching your face again, almost fervently. 
“I just
” you whispered, trying to commit this picture of him to memory. 
What difference did it make?
It was hard to tell who moved first. You’d like to believe it didn’t matter.
The rhythm of your lips against his was unfamiliar at first, clumsy from years of disuse. Through slow and careful movements, you reacquainted yourself with the shape of Jaehyun’s mouth, the pillowy swell of his bottom lip as it gently slid in between your own. It fit there perfectly, like it always did. His hands came up to graze the curve of your waist, resting lightly on your skin as if he was afraid you’d crumble like sand in his grasp. 
You tilted your head, parting your mouth ever so slightly to let the tip of your tongue brush against the underside of his top lip. The kiss changed immediately. You felt his surprise in the small puff of air that escaped through his nose and landed softly against your cheek. His fingers gripped at you with a newfound strength, pulling you flush against him. Even through the fabric of your shirts, the outline of his toned chest was unmistakable. Your hands found their home in the softness of hair at the nape of his neck, revelling in the throaty sound that left him as you ran your hands through it. 
How had you denied yourself of this for so long?
Jaehyun must have pulled away first, because suddenly you could breathe again, shaky gasps coming in and out through your mouth. He fared no better, pressing his forehead gently against yours while he tried to catch his breath.
You couldn’t think. You felt electrified, as if every nerve ending in your body was simultaneously firing, as if your blood was laced with dynamite. Hell, you had half a mind to invite him up to your room and finish off what you had so brazenly started.
“It’s late,” he finally managed, voice rough. “You should head in.” His hands, however, stayed firmly in place around your waist. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with each swallow.
Right. Perhaps it was best to let the night end here, before you could do anything else that you might regret. 
“Yeah, I should probably,” you murmured, catching the way his eyes followed each movement of your mouth as you spoke. The sound of your voice seemed to break the daze he was in, and you felt his grip on you loosen, slowly and reluctantly. The arms you had looped around his neck made their way back to your sides. You were released from his warmth far too quickly.
Impulsive decisions (like inviting your ex-boyfriend to spend the night in your one-bedroom apartment with nowhere to sleep except in your bed) seldom ended well. You should’ve known better than to make those rookie mistakes.
You had barely turned around to walk up to your building doors when Jaehyun wrapped a warm hand around your wrist and pulled you back into him. He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing the small noise of surprise that left your mouth. This time, his kiss was softer, surer, and in it you tasted the sweetness of unspoken promises he was determined to keep. 
“I’ll see you when I get back,” he said, dark eyes fixed on you with conviction. Your lip colour had smudged by the side of his mouth, leaving behind a faint pink stain that only added to the pretty hue of his now kiss-swollen lips. 
He was still the most gorgeous person you had ever seen. 
“See you when you’re back, then,” you echoed. 
Some odd emotion, neither happy nor sad, settled in your chest as you pushed open the door to the emptiness of your home. You had rushed to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun before he left, only to find he had gone already, and the sidewalk outside your building was as vacant as to be expected for this hour of the night.
No matter. You’d wait for him to come back. 
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“One more prosecco before he disappears to the bathroom for the rest of the night.”
You cast a glance at the catering table and clicked your tongue against your teeth.
“Half a prosecco,” you concluded, taking a sip from your own glass. 
Joy raised a shapely eyebrow at you. “You know it doesn’t hit until at least twenty minutes after he gets the munchies.”
“True, but he specifically told me he skipped lunch today so it would hit earlier, and he’d have the energy to mingle.”
“Well,” she shrugged, “I guess that’d do it.”
The two of you turned your gazes back to the catering table, where Jungwoo was doing some serious damage to the salmon ceviche tostadas. The glass in his hand was empty, and you watched as he asked for a refill from one of the waitstaff.
“Someone should really stop him,” Joy sighed. “Before we get a repeat of last year.”
“Someone should,” you agreed.
Neither of you made a move.
As far as year-end wrap-up events went, this one wasn’t too bad, even if it was your first at the company. This year, HR had managed to book one of the smaller function rooms at an upscale hotel, with an open bar and hors d’oeuvres menu to match. It was a nice chance to celebrate the year’s achievements, and get to know the other people in the department a little better. Already a year in this place, and you’d be lying if you said you knew the name of every person on your floor.
September to November had flown by in a blur. Recruitment for the company’s graduate program next year had been an intensive few months of screening, interviewing, reviewing, and then interviewing again. As hectic as it had been, the fruits of your team’s efforts had been warmly recognised with smiles and praises from the senior managers and higher-ups you’d had the chance to speak with tonight. 
Traditionally, each department hosted their own event, though from what you gathered, HR and Marketing were the only ones that put in any real effort. While HR liked to keep things classy, Marketing liked to go all out.
“Do you think it’s true that Marketing rented out a yacht this year?” you asked. Surely their budget wasn’t that excessive.
Joy made a face. “God, I hope not. It’s the middle of December. I’d be surprised if the Han River wasn’t all frozen over.”
Winter had come early this year, sinking its cold fingers into November and staking its claim. Yet, there had been no snow, even though it was only a few days out from the holidays. Though it was nice that your clothes stayed relatively dry all day from the lack of precipitation, you couldn’t help but miss the sight of the city covered in a blanket of white softness. 
“There he goes,” Joy said, nudging your arm. You turned to see Jungwoo excuse himself from the conversation, setting down a barely-touched glass on the tablecloth. He made a beeline for the men’s restrooms, or as close to a beeline as he could manage in his current state, face flushed and a little queasy.
It was a good thing the company’s holiday closure started tomorrow.
“Okay, you win. Want to come and get a refill with me?” she asked. “We can say hi to a few of the directors over there.”
The thought of having to network with more seniors, when you had already spent the last hour and a half donning bright smiles and laughing politely at their lacklustre jokes, was not a pleasant one. You knew it would be a good thing for you to go and introduce yourself, but your battery for social interaction had long since been depleted. Perhaps you should’ve taken a page out of Jungwoo’s book.
Still, you flashed Joy a grateful smile. “You go ahead. I might grab some air, actually.”
“Okay,” she replied, eyes warm with understanding. “But make sure you put your coat on. It’s freezing out there.”
She was right, of course. The toasty interior of the function room was a completely different world from the frigid gust of wind that greeted you as soon as you pulled the sliding door open. An upscale hotel needed to have a matching upscale view of the city. You leaned against the balcony railing, blocking out the icy sting of the metal against your hands, and took in the sight of the not-quite-frozen Han River below, and the sparkling Seoul Tower further away on the skyline.
You’d only be out here for a little bit, you told yourself. Just a few minutes, and then you’d head home.
Truthfully, you could have left half an hour ago when your reserves for socialising had just run out, and be within the warm and familiar confines of your own bed right now, doom-scrolling to your heart’s content. But these days, the solitude of your apartment that you had once found comforting had evolved into a loneliness that you’d rather avoid. 
The empty echoes of your own footsteps across the tiled floors didn’t bounce against the walls like deep laughter did.
Absent-mindedly, you thumbed at the pendant sitting at the hollow of your throat. You had turned your jewellery box inside out, almost fully convinced that you had lost the thing entirely until you finally spotted the milky pearl set in white gold, underneath all the other chains. It was gorgeous when you had first opened the velvet box all those years ago, and it still was now, even if you hadn’t seen it for quite some time. Jaehyun always had an eye for beautiful things.
You weren’t the only one who endured a few packed and chaotic months. Johnny’s team had flown out of the country the Wednesday after Joy’s birthday and had been sequestered in New York ever since. Between your swamped schedules and the 14 hour time difference, conversations with Jaehyun were intermittent at best, and sparse and uncoordinated at worst. Sometimes he’d message with silly little things, like the time he sent you a picture of a doll sitting in the window of an antique shop.
this reminded me of you, the accompanying text had said.
He was due back soon, and there was still much left to be said, but above all, you only hoped that he was well, and that the New York winter was much more forgiving than it was here at home.
The cloudy wisps of air formed by your breath floated upwards before they dissipated into the night sky. No wonder the balcony was empty — who would want to be out here when there were mozzarella stuffed mushrooms and central heating on the other side of the glass?
You heard the doors slide open behind you as someone else equally as crazy decided to step out into the cold. Just as well. It was time for you to head back anyways. You turned to make your way inside, only to freeze in your tracks.
“They told me I’d find you out here. You really know how to pick a spot, huh?”
A soft gasp left your mouth.
“Jaehyun?”
He gave you a smile, your favourite smile, where his dimples were only just visible, and there was the hint of a pout to the shape of his lips. He was here, and he was in front of you, looking at you like you were the most wonderful thing in the world that he would ever have the good fortune of knowing. Your chest swelled almost painfully at the sight of him.
“When did you get back? How did you even get in here?”
“We landed in Incheon earlier this afternoon. I had to pay the door guy outside a hundred bucks for him to let me in.”
Your eyes widened. “He can’t make you do that!”
“Just kidding,” Jaehyun chuckled. “I only had to show him my company ID.”
He walked over to where you stood by the railing and rested his arms against the metal. His profile was sharp against the darkness of the night sky, and you took a moment to study the details while he took in the view. 
“Are you tired?” you asked. “It can’t be easy adjusting to the time difference.”
“A little,” he admitted. The bags under his eyes were dark and purple now that you could see his face up close. He must have been exhausted. Nobody ever slept well on long haul flights. “You should see Johnny though. He would have come tonight, but jet lag is seriously kicking his ass.”
You shared a laugh, traces of your breaths mingling in the air. Beside him, you settled back into your original spot, mirroring the way he leaned against the metal railing. Jaehyun was close, but not too close, your elbows only a few centimetres apart. A mellow silence settled over the balcony as you gazed out at the river, watching the never-ending stream of cars as they circled the waterfront. 
With even this, you were content. His mere presence next to you was a remedy in itself, regardless of the words shared or touches exchanged. You felt more at home in this moment now than you had in over 3 months.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, still gazing out into the distance. The gravity in his voice hinted at circumstances beyond the recent season he had spent on the other side of the world. And yet, he had said it so simply, as if the words were an immovable truth that would withstand the corrosion of time.
“I’ve missed you too,” you replied.
Maybe it was just that simple, because it was the truth. The nights weathered away in your own apartment were only lonely because there had been an absence of him, an absence that was known to you, even if you had not felt it for many years.
He turned to you, taking in a shaky breath. “I should never have let you go.”
“Oh, Jaehyun—”
“I was young, and foolish, and I thought I knew what I wanted. And I had you, but I thought I wanted more, because I wanted everything. I wanted the whole damn world.”
Something sharp pricked behind your eyes as you listened to the honesty pouring out of him.
“And then I lost you, and it was—god, it was
 like someone had sucked all the colour out of my life. And I had no one to blame, because I was the one who did that to myself. To us.”
It was so hard to not notice the pain etched into his beautiful features. The tight set of his jaw. The redness that rimmed his eyes. Your fingers ached to reach over and smooth out the crease between his brows.
“There were so many things I could have done to make things right between us again. Even if you wouldn’t have me back. But my pride, and my ego
 I did nothing—”
“You can’t pin it all on yourself, Jaehyun,” you said, shaking your head. “I had no idea what I wanted. And even when I did, I never acted—I never stood up for myself. I could’ve fought for us, but I didn’t. I just accepted everything. Hell, I never even told you how I felt.”
You flashed him a watery smile. “We needed the time away from each other, don’t you think?” 
There was a moment where the two of you simply stared at each other. A hurricane of repressed emotions swirled in your chest, finally breaking the surface five years on. Jaehyun must have felt the same, reliving all those memories now. You could see it on his face.
Youth was so beautiful, and precious — even the heartbreak, and all the other foolish things that came along with it. 
“I let you go once, and maybe that was meant to happen.” He took a step closer. “But we’re not dumb teenagers anymore. I’m not
 I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
His eyes locked on yours as he gazed at you with reverence. “Don’t you still feel the same? Even after all these years?”
I do, you wanted to say. 
You would have too, if it weren’t for the small speck of white that landed in Jaehyun’s dark hair. It was visible for only a few seconds before melting away. You looked up and sure enough, the night sky was dotted with white.
“First snow,” you breathed, watching as the snowflakes fell from the sky. “Do you know what that means?”
Jaehyun gave you a small shake of his head. Of course. He never believed in superstitions.
You reached for his hand, feeling his fingers respond to yours immediately. He was so warm, and his touch breathed life back into your frozen body.
“If you see the first snow with someone you love, it means that your love will be true and long-lasting.”
A few seconds passed as he took in your words, trying to make sense of them.
“You
 love me?”
“I do,” you admitted. A teardrop finally spilled out from your waterline, leaving behind a wet track on your cheek that stung in the cold. “Even when I thought I hated you, deep down, I think I still loved you.”
One of his hands came up to wipe away the trail of moisture from the escaped tear. The action sent a shiver through your entire body.
“I never stopped loving you,” he confessed softly, stroking your cheek. You felt it then, that deep, aching feeling that had threaded itself into the very marrow of your bones. 
Longing. You longed for his presence, his smile, his touch. You longed to hold his heart in your hands again, and give him yours in exchange. You had missed him more than you could bear, and here he was, telling you his heart was where it had always been, sitting in the centre of your palm. 
Perfect moments didn’t exist, but damn did this one come close.
“Come here,” Jaehyun whispered, pulling you into him. 
His mouth was just as sweet as you remembered. His lips were a little rougher, slightly chapped from the cold. His kiss was slow and patient, taking his time to explore the shape of your mouth and mould to it again. You felt his smile, the slight tension in his bottom lip giving him away, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, a quiet giggle bubbling in your chest before escaping through your lips. 
“I really fucking missed you,” you mumbled against his mouth, another giggle accompanying the words. “You kissed me and then you were on a plane to the other side of the world.” 
“I told you I’d see you when I was back, didn’t I?” he reminded, giving your waist a small squeeze. “And for the record, you kissed me. Not that it matters.”
You swatted a hand against his chest. “I see you still care too much about technicalities.”
Jaehyun only laughed, that deep and familiar sound you had craved to hear for the last 3 months. He pulled your hands into his warm ones, and pressed his lips to your knuckles. 
“Your hands are cold,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around yours. 
“Well, I was about to head back inside when you found me. It’s nice and toasty in there.”
“Do you want to go in now?”
You looped your arms around his neck and buried your head into the crook of it. “Let’s just stay out here for a little bit longer,” you said, words muffled by the fabric of his coat. “You always run hot in the colder months anyways. Enough to keep me warm.”
He hummed in agreement, holding you flush against him as the snow fell around you. In his arms, you were the most at ease you had been in years, and the thought was almost enough to bring a fresh new wave of moisture to your eyes. 
“What is that—something’s digging in,” he suddenly said, pulling away from you. His eyes landed on the pendant that had slipped out from underneath the lapels of your coat. Wordlessly, he reached for it, running his thumb across the pale pearl that hung from your neck. 
“You kept this?” 
“Of course,” you answered. “You kept yours.”
He smiled, a big one, dimples marking his cheeks. “Of course,” he repeated. 
“We’re lucky, aren’t we? To have found each other again after all this time?”
Jaehyun’s reply took the form of another sweet and unhurried kiss. It warmed you from the inside out, all the way down to the tips of your toes.
“So we’re really doing this, right?” he asked. “We’re giving us a second chance?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you said all that earlier just for shits and giggles?”
“Of course not,” he chuckled, squeezing your sides again. “I just wanted to make sure. I think I might lose faith in the world if you tell me you don’t want to be with me.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” you reassured. The snow was sticking to his hair, and you took a second to run your hands through it, brushing off the half-melted pieces. His eyes fondly followed your every movement.
“Good, because I plan on keeping you for a long time.”
You returned inside shortly after. The snow had picked up and it was clear that you couldn’t stay out for much longer (unless you wanted hypothermia, which neither of you did). The function hall was much emptier now than it had been when you stepped out, and of the remaining faces, none of them were familiar. 
A quick glance at your phone showed a few unread messages from Joy. 
joy [08:32 pm]: hey, had to leave, doyoung’s still working tomorrow so it’s an early night for me joy [08:33 pm]: hope you and jaehyun work things out joy [08:33 pm]: i’m rooting for you guys!!
joy [08:37 pm]: also can you see if jungwoo is okay joy [08:38 pm]: i don’t think he’s come out yet
“Can I ask a favour, just before we go?”
Jaehyun smiled back at you sweetly, devotion written in his eyes. “Anything.”
“Pop into the men’s room and check if Jungwoo’s still alive?”
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Life was a funny thing. 
“There are so few things in life that are guaranteed. Death, for one, and taxes, for another. Sorry if that was a bit dark and killed the mood. You can laugh, by the way. But I think everyone here would agree, neither of those two are all that conducive to happiness.”
Roundabout. 
“So when the girl you’ve been chasing, for what feels like an eternity, finally gives you a second chance, you absolutely cannot take it for granted. You grab onto that chance with both hands, and even your teeth if you have to. It’s no guarantee for happiness, but it’s your best bet.”
Unpredictable. 
“I’m not a God-fearing man, but I’m a God-believing man. I thank God everyday for bringing such a magnificent woman into my life.”
He raised his glass. 
“Joy, you make me the happiest person in the world, and I can’t wait to be married to you.”
The crowd broke into warm applause as Doyoung finished off his impromptu speech by planting a kiss on his bride-to-be.
“He’s so good at talking,” you mused, wrapping your arm around Jaehyun’s. “If that’s his toast for this, I wonder what his vows will be like.”
A year ago, you would never have believed that you’d be attending your co-worker’s engagement party, much less with your ex-boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years. Spring had well and truly arrived, and with it came promises of love and new beginnings. The last rays of the April afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of the riverside art centre. The venue was gorgeous, floating on the edge of the river with unobstructed views of the skyline and where it met the water — as always, Joy knew how to pick a spot.
“I didn’t know she rejected him before they got together. He must have really liked her.”
Jaehyun gave you a crooked smile. “Four years of university, and he never gave up. Even when she started dating that blockhead from liberal arts.”
“I bet he would’ve felt like the luckiest guy in the world when she finally said yes to a date,” you said, watching as the happy couple shared a moment, giggling about something nobody else was privy to. Jaehyun followed your gaze and made a small noise of agreement.
“Not as lucky as I am to have found you again.”
He ran his thumb across your knuckles. You could’ve sworn there was stardust sprinkled into those pretty brown eyes of his.
Life was a funny thing, for sure. It had a funny way of bringing back things you once thought you had lost forever. You knew now that you had to seize them before they passed by. Who knew if they’d ever turn up again?
“Okay, that’s enough.”
Jungwoo set his glass down on the table with a loud thunk, lightly startling you.
“I’m right here. You guys know that, right? I am right in front of you.”
A sheepish smile was thrown his way. “Sorry.” You patted his hand once, softly. “Your time will come, I’m sure of it,” you reassured. “How did the date with the KU Business girl go?”
“I flaked,” Jungwoo said simply.
“No! Why?”
He sighed. “Blind dates are really not my thing. It’s too awkward. And it feels so superficial. Like, what if you have nothing in common, or there’s no physical attraction, or—” 
Jungwoo paused, cutting himself off. “Actually, I’m not talking about this with you people. I’m going to get another drink.” With that, he turned and headed straight for the cocktail bar. You and Jaehyun gazed at him from behind as he walked off.
“I’m gonna be babysitting him again tonight, aren’t I?” Jaehyun asked, the question directed at nobody in particular.
“People are going to start wondering if you’re dating me or him.”
His mouth curled into a smirk. “Should I give them a reminder?”
“My boss is standing right over there, so no.”
Junmyeon and Irene were still going steady, to your surprise. You’d probably be seeing more and more of him, since Joy and the rest of the Parks genuinely treated Irene like one of their own. The thought wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but not awful either. Maybe you were warming up to him.
“Also, you should probably be careful about who you call blockhead,” you said to Jaehyun, holding back a smile.
He fixed you with a suspicious stare. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know,” you trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his head. The smile broke through, your cheeks lifting as you tried to keep the laughter from coming out. He, on the other hand, was thoroughly unimpressed.
“You should really watch your mouth,” he said lowly, though he was smiling. There was a look in his eyes that sent a jolt straight to the pit of your stomach.
“Or what?”
His hands were all over you before you even made it through the door.
“My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy girlfriend,” he mumbled, peppering your neck with kisses between each adjective. The keypad finally beeped and you pushed down on the handle, letting the door swing open as you pulled him in by the collar.
“Stop talking and just kiss me,” you sighed, dragging his face back up to yours. He was all too eager to comply, mouth slotting over yours with practised ease. His tongue brushed along yours in the way he knew you liked, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure. Fire licked at your insides as he drew a light moan from you.
Four months in, the second time around, and everything with Jaehyun was still electrifying.  
Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally succeeding with undoing the top one after a few tries. Hands came up around the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto his kitchen countertop. The marble was cool to the touch, and you felt it through the silk of your dress, a soft gasp of surprise flying from your mouth into his awaiting one.
“Been wanting to do this all day, ever since you put this thing on,” Jaehyun rasped. The heat of his body radiated into you from where he stood between your parted legs. He was so warm up against you, and he smelled so good, you were positively light-headed with desire.
His mouth ghosted over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “You look so fucking good,” he said, teeth gently grazing the skin of your neck. “My pretty girl.” The quick press of his hips into yours pulled another moan out of you, and you braced a hand against the marble countertop.
Your fingers knocked against the edge of something sharp and sent it tumbling to the floor, where it landed with a heavier thud than you were expecting.
“What was that?” you forced out in between gasps. Jaehyun’s teeth nipped at your collarbone, showing no signs of letting up. “Wait, Jae, something fell on the floor.”
You had smashed a mug in your apartment in the midst of it once. Better safe than sorry.
Reluctantly, Jaehyun detached himself from you and bent down to retrieve the fallen item. He was breathing hard as he picked up a thick, padded envelope, and flipped it over to read the details.
“Photos,” he finally managed, tossing the package back onto the counter. “We can look at them later.”
His mouth was on you again, working at the spot between your neck and shoulder that always had your knees weak and toes curling. 
“Wait,” you giggled, “my film photos? I want to see.” He had sent the camera off almost two weeks ago, and you had been (im)patiently waiting for the developed pictures to be sent back. 
Jaehyun looked up at you with hooded eyes. “Really? You want to look at them now?”
You nodded. 
A beat passed before his face broke into a lazy smile. 
“Okay,” he chuckled softly, reaching for the envelope again. 
There was a good stack in there. The ones on top were more recent, with a few shots from his birthday that had recently passed. You had taken him ice skating at the outdoor rink atop Namsan Mountain. The twinkling lights that hung from the trees surrounding the rink were still beautiful, even through photos. Jaehyun was good at so many things that it was unfair — how could he be so talented and have a face like that? — but on that day, you discovered that ice skating was not one of his strengths, and the bruises on his tailbone could attest to that. 
“The colouring on these is really nice,” you murmured, flicking through the photos.
He hummed. “They are. This place doesn’t over-saturate the images, which is why I like them.”
A few more pictures from Christmas, where the two of you had set up a pillow fort — it had always been a childhood dream of yours — and stayed in watching movies for three whole days because it was too cold to do anything that required leaving the house. Funnily enough though, you had spent New Year’s Eve out in the cold with a few thousand others, waiting for the annual fireworks. There were a few shots of those as well. 
You neared the bottom of the stack, recognising the blur of colours that formed the crowd of the jazz festival from last year.
“All of these are out of focus,” you complained, a pout adorning your lips. The shots of the stage, of the artists, even the one of Jaehyun and the cute face he made trying to fit the burger in his mouth. Only the two pictures of you were crisply defined, because he had taken them. 
You flipped to the last photo. It was the one you took at the end of the show, during the closing bars of Lauv’s set. Miraculously, this one was in focus. You could see the press of your cheek against Jaehyun’s, and the slight surprise in his eyes as you had clicked the shutter. Lauv was nowhere to be seen, but maybe a clear shot of him as well would have been asking for too much. 
“Can I say something cheesy?” Jaehyun asked softly. 
“You’ll say it anyway.”
“I really wanted to kiss you. On this day.”
Strange, that it was these words which brought heat to your cheeks. Surely there were other things that would be more appropriate to blush about, instead of a months-late admission that was degrees more innocent than your current situation, where Jaehyun’s shirt was half undone, and the fabric of your dress was bunched up around your hips. 
“I wanted to kiss you right there, in the crowd. And then I wanted to kiss you again, here, when you made that stupid ramen joke. And when you had that chilli flake stuck on the corner of your mouth.”
You set the last photo down on the counter and turned back to Jaehyun, who was still standing between your knees. 
“And how about now?” you asked, the corners of your mouth lifting in a teasing smile. 
He cradled your chin, tilting your face towards his, and let the pad of his thumb brush over the swell of your bottom lip. 
“I think you already know the answer to that.”
The crescent moon was high and luminescent in the sky when you caught your breath again, the last few waves of euphoria ebbing away through your body. Jaehyun always indulged you.
Maybe a little too much. 
You turned to him, nestling your face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of soap and his skin. A finger lazily traced over the ridges of his stomach. 
“That tickles,” he mumbled into your hair. It must’ve still been damp from the shower, but he didn’t seem to mind. Fatigue was already tugging away at him. 
“Do you want me to stop?” you asked softly, looking up at him. 
He shook his head, just slightly. “I like knowing you’re there.”
You resumed your movements, but it was only a few seconds before Jaehyun was shifting, soft laughs filling the intimate space of his bedroom.  
“That really does tickle,” he said, smile threaded into his voice. One of his hands reached for yours, pulling it up to rest against his chest. The gentle press of his lips on your forehead was a delicate thing. 
You fell asleep like that, feeling the steady beat of his heart, quiet and sure beneath your fingertips. It was warm in his hold, and safe. There was no other home you needed to know.
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aresrambles · 3 months ago
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Mission Complete
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logan howlett x fem!reader - in which you and the wolverine shack up in a shitty hotel after a mission. nsfw, afab terms, there's only one bed, 18+reader (always), “kid”, pining!logan, pining!reader (3911 words)
a/n: just one night with this man... just one fucking night. also yes, first wolvie post but defo not the last.
ïœĄïœ„:*:★,ïœĄïœ„:*:☆ ïœĄïœ„:*:★,ïœĄïœ„:*:☆
Logan pauses in the doorway, his gaze lingering on the double bed crammed into the corner of your shared hotel room. He steps inside, trying to appear nonchalant, but his eyes dart around, searching for an alternative—a sofa, a chair, hell, even a futon. Nothing. He sighs heavily, dropping his bag with a thud, his mind racing through the options. Sharing a bed with you? That’s out of the damn question. He could sleep on the floor, or better yet, maybe there’s another room available. Spending the night with you would be some sick kind of torture; he can’t restrain himself that long.
If you notice his hesitation, you don’t show it. You slip past him with a casual brush of the shoulder, making a beeline for the bathroom. “Dibs on the shower!” you call out, rummaging through your backpack for what he figures must be a change of clothes. Logan grunts in response.
“This mission wasn’t even that bad,” you continue, your voice muffled as you dig deeper into your bag. “We’re leaving early tomorrow, so you should probably shower tonight too. Don’t need you slowing us down in the morning, old man.”
Logan doesn’t dignify your jab with a response. Instead, he turns on his heel and heads back out, letting the door click shut behind him. He’s got a better chance of dealing with the front desk than with sharing that bed. He fishes out a cigar, biting down on it as he stalks down the stairs, striking a match as he goes. The no-smoking signs? They might as well be invisible to him. If they didn’t notice him before, they’d sure as hell notice the smoke.
When he reaches the lobby, it’s empty. Logan rings the bell—once, twice.
“Hello?”
Silence. He rings the bell again, harder this time.
“Hello? Anybody here? I was just—oh, for fuck’s sake.”
His eyes land on a neat little sign perched on the desk: ‘Front desk will be available again from 7:30 a.m. tomorrow.’
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, he thinks, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke in frustration. What if there’s an emergency? What are people supposed to do, wait until morning?
Logan growls under his breath, stubbing out the cigar on the polished wood of the counter, leaving a smoldering mark as a parting gift. He storms back up the stairs, mentally preparing himself for a night on the hard floor. It could be worse, he muses, but only just.
Logan swings open the door to a piercing shriek, slamming it shut almost as quickly as he’d opened it, his hand still gripping the doorknob with a trembling force. Okay, it could definitely be worse, he thinks, his mind spinning.
Inside, you scramble to cover yourself, your heart racing as you realize what just happened. “Seriously? Do you not knock?” you shout, your voice laced with a mix of panic and humiliation. Your face burns as you try to process the situation, the mortification almost too much to bear. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” you mutter under your breath, hurriedly yanking on the oversized t-shirt you had planned to sleep in, your hands fumbling in haste.
“Why didn’t you change in the bathroom?” Logan shoots back, voice gruff, trying to mask his own flustered state. He grinds out his cigar underfoot, his mind replaying the moment he just witnessed, over and over. His ears burn hot, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake the image of you—shirt halfway over your head, bare and vulnerable, your skin still glistening from the shower. Fuck. He looks down, his jeans now uncomfortably tight, the ache in his groin a harsh reminder of why sharing a bed with you is a terrible idea. He can barely keep himself together when you’re fully dressed, let alone in a state like that.
You take a moment to steady your breathing, trying to push the embarrassment down. “You can
 you can come in now,” you stammer, your back turned to the door as you pretend to be engrossed in your phone, anything to avoid facing him.
Logan doesn’t reply. He pushes the door open and slips inside, his movements quick and stiff as he heads straight for the bathroom, needing to put some distance between you both. The door closes behind him, and you let out a groan, burying your face in your hands. This moment was going to haunt you for a very long time.
So, you had a little crush on Logan. No big deal—just a harmless, schoolgirl crush. At least, that’s what you told yourself. But you couldn’t deny that you and Logan made a damn good team. So good, in fact, that the Professor had been pairing you two up for missions more often than not lately. And that silly, schoolgirl crush? It had started to grow into something much harder to ignore.
Your stomach churns as you roll over onto the bed, face buried in the pillows. It’s hard to admit, but part of you got a little turned on by what just happened. The searing embarrassment of having your body on display like that for the man who’d starred in so many of your late-night fantasies
 It was almost too much to handle. You sigh deeply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again.
But then reality sets in. Logan didn’t feel the same way—how could he? The way he bolted for the bathroom was proof enough. Why would someone like him ever be interested in you? You’ve heard the stories about Logan’s past flames, women who were nothing short of extraordinary. And here you are, just another teammate, a brief moment of awkwardness quickly forgotten.
You try to push the thoughts away, deciding it’s best to just turn in for the night. There’ll be plenty of time to torture yourself with these thoughts later. For now, sleep is the only escape from the swirling mess in your head.
It was true—Logan couldn’t get away fast enough, but not for the reasons you thought. As he stood under the scorching spray of the shower, letting the steaming water cascade over his body, his eyes remained fixed on the tiles beneath his feet. His regenerative abilities could heal wounds and stitch him back together, but they never quite banished the constant ache that clung to his bones, a dull throb that even the hot water could only barely soothe. But the ache in his abdomen? That was something else entirely.
Logan couldn’t shake the image burned into his mind, the sight of you, bare and beautiful, just moments ago. He gritted his teeth, his thoughts straying where they shouldn’t. How would those perfect tits look under the water with him, droplets sliding down your skin while he took you against the shower wall? Would you mewl softly, or would you gasp, nails digging into his back? Would you cling to him, or would your legs give out, collapsing into his arms?
He let out a rough grunt, twisting the shower knob to ice-cold in an attempt to snap himself out of it. The icy blast hit him hard, but he welcomed it, hoping it might douse the fire in his veins. He could touch himself—hell, the thought crossed his mind more than once—but not with you just outside, not when you were so close. It felt wrong, too damn wrong.
The cold water eventually worked its magic, easing the unbearable tension that had built up inside him, but it took nearly an hour to do so. Finally, with a heavy sigh, Logan stepped out of the shower, drying off and pulling on a pair of sweatpants. As he looked at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror, he knew one thing for certain: this was going to be a long, restless night.
Logan steps out of the bathroom to find you huddled on the floor, passed out in a tangled mess of blankets. He rolls his eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he carefully scoops you up and lays you down on the bed.
“I don’t need th’ bed,” you mumble, your voice so soft he almost misses it. He huffs through his nose, a fond smile creeping onto his face. “Where else you gonna sleep?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. You blink sleepily, trying to focus as the darkness settles around you, the only sound the gentle rustling of sheets as he adjusts you on the bed.
“Sorry about earlier,” he adds, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.
You don’t reply, too embarrassed to form words. Instead, you turn your face away, hoping he won’t notice the flush of heat creeping up your cheeks. But in the stillness of the night, it feels like every little movement, every breath, is amplified.
“I don’t want you to sleep on the floor,” you finally confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s space for both of us.” The words hang in the air, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of how close Logan is to you. You can almost feel the warmth of his breath against your face, the proximity making your heart race. But then, just as suddenly, he shifts away, the moment passing like a whisper in the dark.
It’s silent for some time, like he’s thinking. You almost speak up again but he beats you to it, just as you part your lips.
“Scoot up, kid,” he says, his voice gruff but not unkind.
You do as he says, moving over to make room, your pulse still thrumming in your ears. Logan settles in beside you, and the bed dips slightly under his weight. The space between you feels impossibly small, yet you can’t bring yourself to pull away.
Despite his shower, the faint smell of cigars still lingers in the air. It’s oddly comforting, grounding you in the surreal reality of the moment. You take a deep breath, trying to steady the wild thoughts racing through your mind. “Good night Logan,” you murmur, hoping that sleep will come quickly and spare you from the ache of wanting what you can’t have—craving the feel of his strong arms around you, the way his hands might tighten against your throat, and the sound of his voice purring dark promises in your ear.
“G’night,” he replies, his voice a low rumble as he turns away, leaving you back to back.
Logan is in Hell.
He can feel your warmth through the thin gap between you, every soft breath you take a reminder of just how close you are. His mouth had agreed before his mind could stop him, and now he’s paying the price. Lying next to you, with your soft body and those innocent eyes that see right through him, is torture. He wonders if there’s still time to slink back into that pile of blankets on the floor.
His muscles tense as he tries to push down the desire clawing at him, the instinct to reach out and pull you close nearly overwhelming. The scent of your skin, the way you whispered his name—everything about you is a test of his control. Logan knows he’s walking a fine line, and the longer he stays here, the harder it gets to keep himself in check.
His fists clench under the covers, every muscle in his body taut with tension. Logan can hear your soft, rhythmic breathing, the quiet rustle of sheets as you shift slightly beside him. The scent of your skin lingering in the air is really what’s holding him hostage. He tries to focus on anything else, but all he can think about is how close you are—how easy it would be to reach out and just touch you.
You lie there, eyes wide open, staring into the darkness. The silence of the room is thick, almost suffocating, but you know you’re not the only one awake. You can feel it- an awareness that runs deeper than simple intuition. All those missions together, all those nights spent side by side—you’ve learned to read him in ways that go beyond words.
Without needing to glance back, you know Logan Howlett is still awake. It’s as if his presence hums in the air between you, a silent energy that’s becoming increasingly impossible to ignore. There’s a tension there, a subtle shift in the way he breathes, the way he holds himself so still, as if he’s trying not to disturb the fragile peace of the night. But you can sense it: something’s bothering him.
You wonder if it’s the same turmoil that’s been gnawing at you, the same restless desire that has kept you on edge ever since you laid down beside him. The thought of Logan feeling the same way sends a shiver through you. It’s a strange kind of comfort, knowing that you might not be alone in this.
But then again, the Wolverine is a man of secrets, you know him well, better than most, but not as well as you’d like. Not in the ways that matter most right now. And yet, lying there in the dark, with only your thoughts and the steady rhythm of his breathing to keep you company, you can’t help but wonder if the walls he’s built around himself are cracking, just as yours are.
You can’t take it anymore. Tentatively, you let your hand drift to the space between you, your fingers brushing against his side. Logan stiffens at the contact, a sharp intake of breath the only sound in the darkness. Emboldened by his reaction, you let your hand slide further, tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. You’re on fire, body moving on its own accord. This wasn’t you, it couldn’t be.
“Darlin’, you don’t know what you’re startin’,” Logan growls, his voice thick with warning and something else that you couldn’t quite identify yet.
But you do know. You know exactly what you want, and you’re tired of pretending otherwise. You turn onto your side, pressing your body against his back, your breath hot against his neck.
“I don’t know. Maybe I do,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation.
Logan turns to you with a gentleness that catches you off guard, his hand sliding to your waist with a tenderness that feels almost reverent. He pulls you close, but it’s not with the raw urgency you expected. Instead, it’s slow, deliberate, as though he’s holding himself back by a thread. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and intense, searching for something, perhaps a final permission.
It’s you that closes the gap. The pressure of his lips against yours is gentle, but the undercurrent of need is undeniable, simmering just beneath the surface. You can feel the restraint in every brush of his lips, every measured caress, and it only makes you clench tighter.
Logan’s hands begin to roam, exploring your body with a hunger that has clearly been held back for far too long. He takes his time, fingers tracing every curve, every dip, as if memorizing the feel of you beneath his touch. His lips leave yours to trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he murmurs, “This is all I could think about out there, in the woods
 how you’d feel, how you’d taste.”
His words send a rush of heat through you, a deep flush spreading across your skin. His hands slide up your thighs, teasing the edge of your shirt before slipping underneath, the warmth of his touch igniting every nerve. His fingers trace lazy circles on your skin, his lips moving down your collarbone, and you realize with a start that you’re trembling beneath him.
You find yourself arching into his touch, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Logan’s mouth curls into a smile against your skin, sensing your desperation. “‘s that what you want, darlin’?” he murmurs, his voice a low growl that vibrates against your skin, making you shiver. “You want me to take you apart, piece by piece?”
You nod, breathless, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you silently plead for him to stop teasing. “Please, Logan,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Please
”
He chuckles softly against your skin, a dark, throaty sound that sends another wave of heat through you. Logan pulls back, his gaze heavy with desire as he sits up. You watch, breathless, as he reaches for the hem of his vest, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. The sight of his bare chest visible only by the flecks of moonlight, muscles rippling beneath his skin, takes your breath away (though this wouldn’t be the first time). You reach out, your fingers brushing against his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch.
Logan watches you with dark, hungry eyes as he reaches for the waistband of his pants, removing them with deliberate slowness. He seems to take pleasure in the way your breath catches, in the way your gaze follows every movement as he slides them down, revealing the full, impressive length of his dick. Logan is big. It’s not just long, but it’s fucking big. Veiny, girthy and leaking precum at the tip, you can’t help but instinctively bite your lip.
The sight of him, hard and ready, makes your pussy ache for him in a way that’s almost painful. “Logan
 please,” you whisper again, your voice barely more than a breath as you look up at him through your lashes.
His gaze darkens, a satisfied smile curling at the corners of his mouth as he finally gives in, his hands moving with purpose as he strips you of your t-shirt. The moment your body is fully exposed to him, Logan pauses, his eyes raking over you with a possessive hunger that makes your heart skip a beat. He takes you in, every inch of you, committing the contours of your body to memory.
When he finally positions himself between your legs, you’re trembling with anticipation, your body aching for him. But Logan doesn’t rush. He takes his time, guiding himself to your entrance, the head of his cock brushing against your wetness before he pulls your panties to the side. He watches your face, his gaze dark and intense, as he teases you, pushing just the tip inside before pulling back. Bastard.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough but laced with tenderness, his lips brushing against your ear. “Because once I start, I can assure you; there’s no going back.”
You nod, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel him inside you. “I need you inside me.” you whisper, your voice heavy with desire.
Logan growls low in his throat, and finally, mercifully, he pushes inside you, filling you with a slow, deliberate thrust that makes you gasp. The sensation is overwhelming, the stretch and fullness making your head spin as he sinks deeper, inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt. He pauses, letting you adjust, his lips brushing yours in a soft, almost reverent kiss.
Then he begins to move, each thrust deep and powerful, driving you both closer to the edge with every stroke. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he moves inside you, his gaze locked on yours as if he’s taking in every expression, every moan, every gasp.
“Look at me,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine. You do, your eyes meeting his in a drunken haze. You moan, your body trembling beneath him, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming. Every thrust, every movement, is perfectly timed, his body attuned to yours in a way that almost didn’t feel real.
“Logan,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need. “It’s so
 much.”
He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “I know, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice full of rough affection. “But you can take it,” He spits.
The praise, the way he’s looking at you, it all builds the tension inside you to a fever pitch. His gaze never wavers, holding yours as he moves deeper, harder. You can’t help the soft whimpers that escape your lips, your body tightening around him with each powerful stroke. Logan’s grip on your hips tightens, and he groans, his eyes darkening further as he watches you come undone beneath him.
“Don’t hold back,” he growls, his voice full of animalistic need. “Let me see you, I want it all.”
“Logan
 I—” The words catch in your throat as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your body arching beneath him.
He growls your name, a primal sound full of need, as he moves faster, harder, both you and Logan knew you were close.
“Come for me,” he whispers, his voice ragged, his gaze locked on yours.
And you do. With a cry, you shatter around him, the pleasure crashing over you like a wave, your body convulsing with the force of it. Logan follows you over the edge, his own release tearing through him as he groans your name.
When it’s over, Logan collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is quiet now, the air thick with the scent of sweat and satisfaction. You nestle against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. The tension that had built up between you over the past few days finally snapped, and here you both are, tangled in the aftermath.
You shift beside him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat. He turns his head to look at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes—a hint of unease, maybe even regret. “You sure this was okay?” His voice is rough, laced with concern, and that old nickname hangs in the air like a habit he can’t break. “Kid.”
You meet his gaze, holding it, making sure he sees you clearly. “Logan,” you say, your voice steady, “I’m not a kid anymore. You need to stop treating me like one.”
He exhales, a long, controlled breath, as if he’s trying to push down everything he’s feeling. “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he admits, the words heavy.
A small, wry smile tugs at your lips as you prop yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him. “You’re not taking advantage of me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Your tone is straightforward, cutting through his doubts. “I wanted this as much as you did. I think, maybe even more
” You trail off.
He looks away, eyes flicking back to the ceiling, his hand finding its way to your back, fingers brushing your skin in a gesture that feels almost hesitant. “I’ve done things... seen things. Sometimes I’m not sure what’s right anymore.”
You lean down, pressing a kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to make sure he feels it, really feels it. When you pull back, you hold his gaze, your voice low but firm. “I know what I’m getting into.”
He’s quiet, his hand tightening on your back just a little, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. He doesn’t say anything else, just pulls you closer, holding you like you’re the one solid thing in a world that’s always shifting beneath his feet.
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