#warning for mild angst

[mothsakura]

experimenting with symbols!! made a new passage: The Experiment (mild warning: the drawing below has some surgical tools)

dissecting grandpa today :(

[the-sand-guardian]

Whumptober Day 3: "I Warned You"

“Gatinho, no- I’m not letting you do that,” Roier shook his head again as Cellbit refused to let up his pestering. The two had been going back and forth for at least 15 minutes as Roier tried his best to get Cellbit off of his case. 

“What’s the worst that could happen? Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone there with you this time?” Cellbit was relentless. Roier had accidentally made the other aware of the fact that that night was to be a full moon, and Cell had taken that to mean that he was being encouraged to come along and see Roier’s transformation. Roier, of course, vehemently opposed this idea. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to be around you for it, you know that,” He tried yet again to explain. “But it’s just not safe to have you so close for that, alright?” 

“I’ve survived worse- Guapito, please, just this once?” Goddamn was his husband stubborn. 

Roier stopped walking and looked at him. “You’re not going to let me get away with this one, are you?” 

Cellbit shook his head. 

Roier sighed and nodded. “I suppose- Just this once though, and if you get hurt you’re not allowed to complain when I call you an idiot, deal?” He stuck out his hand for the other. 

Cellbit grabbed his hand tightly and shook it. “Deal.” 

Roier shook on it and shifted to hold Cellbit’s hand as they walked together. They still had lots of work to do before nightfall, and twenty minutes of arguing wasn’t helping their case. Roier pulled Cellbit along with him towards their home. 

Roier, of course, had been a wolf since he was 7. He was used to what happened each month and had learned enough to get by. His transformations had slowly gotten easier and easier as time passed and he learned more about his own lycanthropy. First, he’d begin by cooking. 

Transforming hurt the worst on an empty stomach, and it was known for making wolves more violent, too. On Roier’s first transformation, the poor pup hadn’t eaten since breakfast and almost hurt one of his pack. He learned that lesson quickly. 

Next, he needed something to keep him entertained. As a wolf, Roier was usually content to roam the woods, killing deer and tormenting small wildlife, but with Cellbit this wasn’t exactly an option. He brought out a few of his old toys from his teenage years back out into his cave with Cellbit’s assistance. Hey, if he wanted to tag along so badly, Roier had no issues with making him work a little for it. 

After Roier had eaten a rather hearty dinner and the cave was prepared, he checked with his husband one last time to confirm that he was still adamant about going. He was.

The sun slowly began to sink under the hills in the distance, and both men sat just in front of the cave looking out at the horizon. Cellbit was wrapped in a blanket and had thrown on his husband’s hoodie as the night air began to settle around them. Roier shut his eyes for a moment before giving Cellbit a kiss to the cheek and rising to his feet. 

“Promise me that you’ll hide when I first come out here, gatinho?” 

“What for?” 

“Just give it five minutes, ok? I need you to get as far from here as you can, and then you can come back. Please, just promise me that you’ll listen to me this one time?” 

“I promise” Cellbit nodded and began to stand up and Roier ducked into the darkness of the cave. 

Transforming might have gotten easier, but it still fucking hurt. Roier’s bones had already ached for days in anticipation, but that was only about to increase tenfold. His body shifted and contorted as the sun sank lower and lower. Roier doubled over, clutching his stomach as it warped and expanded. He failed to bite back a scream as his legs gave in as he hit the ground. 

After several minutes, the stretching and shifting of his skin and bones slowed, then stopped. The transformation may have been over, but by Christ did he still hurt. Roier let out a loud howl into the darkness of the night. 

“Guapito? Guapito, are you ok?” A voice asked from the mouth of the cave. The wolf knew no sounds but those he or the creatures he killed made. This voice was not that of a deer’s. 

The wolf turned its hulking form towards the opening of the cave. A small creature stood at the opening, a small weapon drawn in its hand. The creature was not unlike the wolf’s other form, but the wolf knew of this creature. Humans. Humans, who kill unless they are killed. 

The wolf let out a snarl before charging in a flash of brown-grey fur. Its vision was flooded by red, and there was a scream. Something poked the wolf before tearing into it. Then, the creature stopped moving. The wolf could relax. 

The wolf was hurt, but just a little. Maybe it would only hunt for a little bit tonight and then sleep. That sounded nice.

The next thing Roier knew, he was awake. Fuck, when did he get cut? Something ached deep within him that he couldn’t quite puzzle out. He stretched, hearing a few leftover dislocations click back into place and provide him just a little more relief. He peered out of the cave, only to spot the curled up figure of his husband in a puddle of dark red blood. He rushed out of the cave, tears already pricking his eyes. The body did not move. Roier’s breath caught in a sob as he turned over his husband’s limp body. 

“Gatinho-” He began to weep as he pulled him close one last time. 

Thank you for reading! I've also posted this to Ao3, where I'll be cataloguing all of my works for this month! I also have 3 other WIP fics, so if you enjoy my works please go show some love over there or feel free to shoot me an ask!

[elementalladymallorie]

Word Count: 3K

Gar's adjusting to his new life, and while it's pretty great so far he does have a few concerns around his new foster mom's recent career change and the dangers it might entail

[that-one-dork]

“What…happened to me- us-…?”

“…An accident.”

[ophelliate]

BOOTLEG TALES OF THE TMNT

Episode 7: Leon Ardo Alone

What do you do when you're being bullied? Avoid it and go on a bunch of solo-missions of course!

[theanarik]

Girl, wake up, new tanthamore 5+1 just dropped!!!!

Tittle: Worth the risk

Summary: Jade is not entirely sure how it all began, and she’s certain that Kit doesn’t either. One day she’s waiting for a coffee cup to go and then Kit is pretending to be her girlfriend to get a man off Jade’s back, one that didn’t seem to like or take a no for an answer.

Or: Five times Kit and Jade pretended to be in a relationship, and one time they didn't have to.

Read on A03

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Jade is not entirely sure how it all began, and she’s certain that Kit doesn’t either. One day she’s waiting for a coffee cup to go and then Kit is pretending to be her girlfriend to get a man off Jade’s back, one that didn’t seem to like or take a no for an answer. He didn’t back off, of course not; he became annoying after a while, talking at them about how he would be the one to cure them. He even insisted that he was into threesomes, and just got away from them when their disgusted faces became too much for him.

While that is something that Jade can pinpoint happening a not-so-while ago, she’s sure that there have been other instances of them just pretending to be each other’s partners when uncomfortable with others. At some point, Jade thinks, they agreed on a signal, something inconspicuous that they could do in public and that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. They tried many things: hand movements, nose and ear scratches, tongue poking; but those never really stuck. It wasn’t until Kit realized that they both did the same gesture (scratch the back of their necks while avoiding eye contact) when uncomfortable that they figured out how to pull it off.

[jazzcat247]

Graphic and/or Trigger Content warning: Mild Gore, Trauma, and Talk of Amputation.

Paolo cradled Jules' soft, downy neck fur as the shivers continued. He had never given or received a hug to the lankier bear in month's, if ever. Part of that was due to their... unfortunate encounter, as Father put it, with the unicorn stampede. How Jules had stood over him as he readied his bow. How he barely noticed the hooved demons coming straight for them. How they were lucky to be alive-!

Paolo heard very little, feeling his mind ebbing in and out of consciousness for weeks. He barely knew why father had been so keen on yapping his ear off as the doctors worked. He also didn't know why they gave him so many sleepy pills. But by the time he woke up, he knew.... saw his legs... saw his knees..... his stumps-

Paolo felt cold. He didn't want those pills anymore. He didn't want to sleep anymore. He didn't want to be in this bed anymore... He wanted to know when he'd leave. He wanted to know where his friends were. He wanted to know how Jules was. He wanted to thank Jules, to talk to Jules, he was right there-! Lying on a rickety withered bed like a shy child, Paolo immediately wanted to reach out & help. But... He felt cold. They both were. They both felt cold, scared, and terrible.

By the time he climbed into Jules bed, Paolo thought he'd be kicked and smacked around by the jittery mass of sensitive fur and flesh. But... no sooner had he locked eyes with a pair of ruby red hues did he feel a pair of pale paws wrap around his neck. Though they didn't choke. They didn't pinch, they didn't crush, they didn't even feel hurtful. They felt.... cold. The body that pressed against him, that huddled against him, felt cold. He never felt so light yet so weighted down in a hug before.... Paolo's ears perked as he felt a sniffling, almost hoarse voice come out of the normally eloquent albino, his shoulder growing damp from the tears.

"j-Je.... Je veux aller.... a la maison."

"Si.... Si, Nosotros podemos hacer eso."

[sour-heart-treats]

truffle cookie angst cause she's perfect for it

The Spider Mansion was not for the faint of heart. As kind as Truffle can be, her pets often got the better of her and frightened any guests that came by. There were common visitors that came by to share red drinks that were sweeter than wine, dishes of meats that were harder to catch than any mythical beast... and even they were still put off by her arachnid friends.

Smiling with fangs, the widow would share feasts with this small group, trying to get them used to the presence of her friends that she promised wouldn't bite... much. The laughs that they shared... ah, how she missed such. All of them have gone their separate ways, though she still hears of escapades through the grape vine. Well, less of a vine, more of a thread. A spider thread.

She still remembers the last meeting where all of them had gathered for a bloodied full course meal. A thief who stuck to bodies instead of gems, their reluctant bartender cousin, a redhead who had long been used to this whole process, a servant whom all treated with care, and Truffle herself. The words of the thief rang sour through the air- of spreading the curse, she remembers. They were dishevelled that day, and the poor servant that followed them around couldn't bare to even fake a smile. Something horrid had occured, though the spider whisper couldn't figure it out at the time.

Perhaps if she had better analysis that wasn't from hindsight, she would know that these were the eyes of mourners very similar to herself. The spider charmer's experiences were far behind her, though how she missed it then was something that she regrets. What was once a small 'cursed' clique had become a town terror.

The widow still remembers finding a poor shop owner mourning the person she had become closest with, coping with an unhealthy amount of denial despite her aid.

The widow still remembers finding a half-eaten child bleeding at her doorstep, crying and sobbing as the salt from her tears irritated her wounds.

The widow remembers hearing through the spider's web... countless lives being eaten away at, destroyed by this 'disease'- this 'infection' that has gone too far.

As someone living in the Spider Mansion, Truffle is not one considered 'faint of heart'. Even still, the shroud of fear that had gathered over the town she lived a short walk away from... not to mention elsewhere... it was enough to perturb her. Looking up to the large clump of spiders on the ceiling, the grimace that had adorned her face slowly faded.

One day the chaos outside will calm. She's heard it through the spider's thread. Her bravest eyes to the outside have assured her. And whilst she waits for the day to arrive, her sweet friends that don't bite... much... will keep her company. Help her find food. Though she wishes to keep those that cannot withstand her home company... being wrapped in silk and bathed in stomach acid isn't particularly a welcoming answer.

[lalunanymph]

ΉΣЯ & ƬΉΣ ƧΣΛ

༊ you ask rafayel how lemurians reproduce, and he can't wait to show you

✯ warnings; rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex underwater, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a dress and lingerie), mentions of alien genitalia, rafayel calls reader 'master' once, petnames (my little conch shell, my queen, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink (reader is obvs smaller than him, he's a goddamn mErmAID), OVIPOSITION, dirty talk, language, breeding, girl on top position, missionary, reader sucks his merman cock (lmao), dubious breathing underwater methods, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, slight spoilers for rafayel's myth if you squint, mild angst

✯ istg i am a zayne girlie but something about rafayel just makes me go feral

"𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒?"

The question stunned Rafayel from taking a bite of his souffle pancakes, his fork pausing from its journey into his now lax mouth. Sunlight continues streaming in past the French windows; the patrons of this cafe going about their day, oblivious to the malfunctioning celebrity artist amongst them.

A glob of whip cream freefalls off the metal tines and onto his plate. Those magnetic pink-blue eyes flash with a multitude of colors—like a sea-worn rock under the brilliant sun. 

However, as fast as your question hit him, he overcame it; no one could say that Mr. Rafayel, the art world's maverick and media-trained connoisseur, was slow in recovering his wits.

His signature teasing smile in place, Rafayel placed his fork back down onto the table.

Across from you, two friends were speaking in low tones and judging from their expression, unpacking their love lives with the sombreness of a priest reciting a divorce rite.

Rafayel blinked, tilting his head to the side. 

"Why would you ask, Miss Bodyguard?" 

He casually slung an arm over the back of his chair, a million dollar smile gleaming and ready. "Or, has something struck your most vivid imagination?" 

Laying it on thick, he couldn't even begin to disguise the gleam of his teeth—shining like the incisors of a great white after smelling fresh blood in the ocean. 

"I never thought you would be so sugges—ouch!"

Rafayel winced, and doubled over, rubbing his shin under the table. "What was that for?" 

You huffed, and fixed him a glare. "Don't embarrass me." 

"I was just joking."

"Wasn't funny." 

"Yeesh. You're really wound up about this, huh?" 

That infuriating smirk was plastered back onto his face; his boyish features making something in your chest squeeze. 

"Shut up and answer the question." 

He pretended to ponder on it for a moment. More color illuminates his stunning amethyst irises. Shining like jewels, only he knew the value of his true thoughts. 

Before you could retract your question and salvage this bright afternoon, Rafayel surprises you with his next words.

"Why don't I show you, my little conch shell?" 

You freeze. Scanning the area, you wondered if this was the right conversation to be having in such a brightly lit area. Granted, you and Rafayel were past the carnal stage —after being together for close to a year, your bodies were well-worn maps that lips and fingers could retrace and discover any time.

Fighting back a laugh, you shake your head.

"Is this another one of your racy propositions again?"

Rafayel merely smirked. "If that is how you wish to see it." 

Seriously now, you counter, "Will I have paint in my hair again?" 

Memories flash in your mind; of a large canvas, soft candlelight, and streaks of paint on the most random parts of your body found weeks after the deed was done. 

Your lover sits back, using one slender finger to cross over his heart. "I promise your hair won't go through such torment anymore." Despite your best efforts, your eyes trail to his broad chest, and the enticing V of his defined pecs.

As if sensing your eyes on him, Rafayel's mirth grows. "Looks like you can't resist much longer, I'll make you a deal—" 

He leaned in close—much too close—and you could smell the vanilla on his breath; the sunlight glinting off those purple irises softening with a look of warmth only he held for you.

"—come with me tonight to Whitesand Bay, and I promise you won't regret it." 

Muggy and balmy in the evening, Whitesand Bay wasn't exactly the ideal meet up spot for Rafayel to finally fulfill his promise and show you how mermaids reproduce. 

But, you showed up anyway.

Dressed in a light, silk dress to combat the heavy heat of the summer night, you cautiously made your way down to the docks, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for Rafayel. 

"You're here." He appeared a moment later, dashing as usual in his white button-down and pristine slacks. Dazzling under the half-light, you allowed him to take your hand and lead you right to a boat.

"We're not going for a to take a deep dive like last time, right?" Hearing the skepticism in your voice, he laughs.

"Of course, not. I paid Thomas a huge bonus last month and told him to buy a speedboat. For us to borrow, if you're curious." 

"Poor Thomas," you mused, letting him hold you close to his side as he helped you atop the board. "His boss is a tyrant... asking him to use his bonus for such lavish nonsense."

"Is it really a lavish nonsense if I get to have you here?" 

Rafayel's sincerity struck you mute. He breezed past your shocked figure, unaware of the effect he has on you. "Well? Are you going to continue mocking my methods of employment or are we going to do this?" 

Even though his chest was puffed and voice full of bravado, you could tell your sweet artist boyfriend was struggling with his nerves. The tips of his ears were bright red, a faint shadow of a pout on his lips. 

"Raffie," you whisper, taking his hand. He glanced at you, wide-eyed like a fish caught on the bait. "What're you so scared of? It's just you and me."

He lets you rub your thumb across his knuckles, tightening your hold on his fingers.

"I just..." he trails off. "... just don't want you to think I'm a freak. That's all."

Rafayel refused to look at you when he was this vulnerable, and you couldn't help the short giggle bursting past your defenses. He glared, and you quickly reached for his face, touching his cheek.

"Never," you emphasize. "I will never think you're weird. Ever. Besides, if you're a freak then I'm the weirdo in love with you."

Your dopey grin sets something aflutter in his chest, like ripples of ocean waves splashing across a strange shore. Rafayel smirks and takes your hand off his face, choosing to twine his fingers with yours. 

"Shall we make a move, then, my little conch shell?" 

"Rafayel..."

The sight before you stuns you with its splendor. Your beloved boyfriend had gone all out—picnic blankets, lighted candles, flutes of champagne, and spreads of seafood as far as the eye could see... arranged all across the flatbed of this hidden alcove where the sea kisses the land. 

In the distance, the gentle swishes of waves lapping at the shore greeted your ears, its waves illuminated faintly as if lit from within.

"Bioluminescent algae," Rafayel murmurs right behind you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, the heat of his breath fanning right across your exposed neck. "They only appear in the summer when the water is warm." You fight back a shiver, trying not to show how affected you were by his presence. 

"Oh." Dumbly, you weren't sure how to put your thoughts together, much less a coherent sentence. 

Sensing your speechlessness, Rafayel exhaled a laugh. "Come on. We should eat before the food gets cold."

There's a dip in his tone, something tinged with a darker emotion you barely had time to unravel before he was tugging you onto the picnic mat. The food was divine, his personal chefs going all out to satisfy both of your palettes. Conversation flowed easily like the champagne slipping down your throat, coaxing you to release the tightness in your chest in favor of bubbly giggles and flirty smiles.

Rafayel's cheeks were steadily growing pinker, and you were sure he would double over and pass out—forgetting about your brazen question—when you felt his hand on your thigh.

"Would you like to take a swim with me?" 

Memories of seaweed brushing your bare legs, Rafayel’s arms steadily around your waist as he led you past the shoreline fills your mind. Anything cool sounded like a blessing from this heat. 

Plus, he was a pretty good swimmer, as evident from what he truly was. Rafayel would never put you in harm’s way. 

Safe. That was the word. You always feel safe with him. 

“Yes.”

He takes your hand, gives it a squeeze and helps you stand.

Rafayel started to undress first. The hem of his expensive silk shirt reveals the fitted band of his equally expensive slacks—made by the best tailors in all of Linkon. Then, pale skin. It stretches, tightens over defined obliques, abs and then his impressively broad chest. 

Scattered across the sinew and muscle roping his torso were smatterings of moles and beauty marks. 

Someone once told you that these marks were spots past lovers used to love kissing. You idly trace your gaze over the one on his left pec, right over his heart. 

If Rafayel and you had been together in the past, you were sure that the spot over his heart would be your favorite spot to plant your lips on him. 

As furtively as you could, you tried not to gape at him, but completely failed.

Rafayel was a masterpiece made by the gods themselves, and you were the poor fool gaping at his altar; transfixed on the sharp V which led to a light dusting of his happy trail. 

His cock strains behind his slacks, bulging noticeably. You want to reach out and skim your fingers, eager to feel it twitch under your touch. 

"Well?" His gentle amusement tore your thoughts from their sinful vices. "Are you gonna just stare at me or are we going for a swim? Your pick, Miss Bodyguard." 

Showing that you were far braver than you felt, you stood up, shaky hands reaching for the straps of your dress. "Don't look at me." 

A surge of heat flooded your cheeks, your eyes resolutely turned to the side. Obediently, Rafayel followed your orders, though you could hear the cogs turning in his head. It's not like I haven't seen her naked before.  

But, this wasn’t the usual plotting, teasing and flirting you both would indulge in.

Something about the air tonight felt heavier. 

Intimate.

You swore Rafayel could pick up your heartbeat from where he stood. The heat on your cheeks spread down your chest, tingling on your fingertips.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

In nothing but in your lingerie, you shift from foot to foot, feeling too vulnerable and open.

The sky above yawns wide, inky black jaws lovingly unfurling like a spread of velvet sheets. His hand is warm in yours, and you squeeze it, trying to hide how you were trembling. 

“Hey.” Rafayel sweeps you into his arms. Try as you might to fight off the nerves, they bubble up in a short squeak when your face meets his chest. “Relax, baby. You’re shaking like a bubble in the sun… don’t pop just yet.”

You find comfort in his scent—oceanic and musky—breathing him in. 

Do you trust me? Rafayel once asked when you both were drunk on a night out. 

Of course, I do. You flick his nose. Why wouldn’t I trust you? 

Even if I’m different? He fixes you with a look, lucid for someone who had just downed an entire champagne bottle. And I can’t be normal for you? 

Especially because you aren’t normal in the sense of its word… I trust you even more because you trusted me, first. 

Waves lap at your toes, and you shiver at how cool the water is. 

“Easy,” Rafayel coaxes you. He takes the lead, sinking into the soft sand first, never releasing his hold on you. 

You do as he says, a sailor to his siren call, except you knew in your heart you would willingly follow him till the ends of the world.

Once the water was up to your waist, Rafayel exhaled. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” 

You don't have time to protest when he dives into the waves, barely kicking up a spray. Eyeing the softly luminated sea surface, you dip your fingers into the warm water, watching a blue orb float in between your loose fists. 

“Hey.”

Startling, you look up to find him grinning, lilac hair darkened with salt water; holding a bundle of what you thought was tangled hair in his grasp.

“I know you hate the taste of seaweed, but this’ll help when we… get into things.” 

He ends in an awkward note, and you wondered what happened to the once cocky, and sure Rafayel you knew. 

Unfurling his clenched fist, he hands you one single strand. “Eat this. It’ll help you breathe underwater temporarily.” 

“What is it?” you sniff at the strange vegetation. 

“Hydroweed. It gives humans the ability to breathe underwater for up to an hour.”

Putting your faith in his words, you nod. Opening your mouth, you bite into the Hydroweed. 

The briny taste was overwhelming, its tough fibers making it difficult for you to chew. But, you manage to swallow it down. 

Instantly, you felt your throat closing, the air choked out of your lungs. “Rafayel—!” 

Strong hands grab your waist, dragging you under the foamy waves. 

You gasp, about to scream at him to let you go, when you took in your first deep breath underwater.

The world suddenly came to life. Bright blue orbs floated right in front of your face, and you reached for them, in awe at how vivid they glowed now you could see them up close. 

Down in the depths, the waves became hushed murmurs in the background, filling your ears with a ringing silence. 

“Are you okay?” Rafayel’s voice shot through the floating calm like a shout, and you cringed back in shock. 

“Sorry,” he laughs, and pulls you to his side. “It’s way quieter down here than up above because sound travels differently. Strange, huh?” 

You nod, not entirely sure if you could use your voice. As if he read your thoughts, Rafayel chuckles.

“Go ahead and speak, my little conch shell. I can hear you just fine.” 

You take a deep breath. “O-okay.” Growing confident and more comfortable, you relax in his embrace. “It feels… strange. Like you said. But, at the same time, I don’t entirely hate it.”

“Mhm,” he rubs your back, smiling reassuringly and wide. “If there are other Lemurians within a few miles, they can most likely hear you scream.”

His double meaning didn’t register until you felt his palms tracing your hips, teasing down your body to give your ass a fond squeeze.

“Hey—!” 

You swat his hands away, mute with embarrassment. “I-is that why you all live so deep in the sea? For privacy?” 

Rafayel hums. It’s a little off putting how clear his voice sounds, like you were listening to him through a pair of high-grade earphones. 

“Usually, Lemurians mate deep in the trenches where the light can’t find us. It helps to keep things more private and intimate. If not, we travel to other seas uninhabited by our species. I used to know a guy who dragged his wife to the middle of the Atlantic when they were trying for a family.”

Rafayel’s focus ebbs into the distance, a tinge of sadness in his tone that appears whenever he speaks of his long lost people and home. 

You take his hands in yours and squeeze, trying to draw him back from the precipice of his ruined memories.

“We could try…” you trail off, unsure if this was the right thing to say. “...to repopulate it?” 

Like your words were a trigger, you found yourself planted right on the ocean floor, soft sand cushioning your body.

You squeak, quickly darting your eyes to his, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

Rafayel’s usual glimmering pink-blue eyes were shadowed by a darker emotion; reminding you of glinting shark teeth or a blade of moonlight slicing through choppy water. 

“Don’t say that, baby.” Was it you, or did his voice drop an octave? 

Your Lemurian lover’s low reprimand made a shudder run down your spine, his half-mast eyes causing your stomach to flip.

“You don’t know how those words make me feel… my kind used to reproduce by the dozens—I can’t wait to see you bulging with my babies.” 

Wait… babies? 

With a capital ‘S’?

His mouth lands on yours, hungry and seeking. You kiss him back with as much ardor, lost in the sensations that you almost forgot what he had said earlier.

“Raf… Rafayel—” you gasp when he starts to dig his teeth into your neck, nipping down your jaw and collarbone.

Deft hands unclip your bra, the motion fluid like he has done this a million times before. From the corner of your eye, you see every article of clothing he took off you floating right to the surface; moonlight bouncing off the fragmented surface, playing across the broad expanse of his back. 

Your head swims with fuzzy thoughts long discarded when he pushes the plush fat of your tits together, licking and nipping around your areolas, ignoring how your nipples were already circling with need. 

“Raffie…” You fist his hair, trying to push his mouth to where you need him the most. “Don’t tease me.”

He laughs at your soft whine. “I need to make sure you’re prepared, my love.”

My love. Rafayel only called you that term whenever he was in the thick of his passion; it seems like you were about to witness the cumulation of your innocent question coming true.

Strong hands held you firmly while he eased down your body, planting fleeting kisses on every inch of your skin his lips could touch. 

Down in the deep, gasps and screams weren’t sounds, but vibrations; the sounds escaping your mouth resounding around your entwined bodies.

“Fuck,” Rafayel cussed once he reached the apex of your thighs. “I can’t wait to finally taste you underwater.” 

Barely giving you time to brace yourself, the broad stroke of his tongue melted through your folds. 

Never would you have imagined you would be eaten out right on the ocean’s bed—going deeper and deeper into the neverending blue. 

Rafayel’s lips were wrapped around your nub, sucking and caressing it with his tongue exactly how you liked it. Your smaller fingers sank into his hair, the other entwining with his own above your heart; back arched to give him everything you have.

“S’good,” he murmurs, verging on the edge of slurring. “I love you.”

His name tumbles from your mouth like a primal echo, calling him right to the edge of a bottomless trench.

Rafayel wasn’t afraid; he would traverse the deep beyond for as many chances to be with you as he could.

“Put your legs around my waist,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses back up your body. 

If someone were to tell you that your sweet boyfriend was literally making love to you on the bottom of the ocean, you would tell them a Wanderer had infected their mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his body emanating a faint glow. A distant memory claws past the thin membrane of your barely held together thoughts; moonlight bouncing off pink-blue scales, his unbearable body heat and a pearly sheen misting his eyes.

“Rafayel—” 

The change was imperceptible. At first, you couldn’t feel anything but the sinful sinking of his cock stretching out your cunt. 

Then, it hit you like a freight train.

His waist felt like it was expanding, pushing your thighs further apart. But, when you glanced down the line of your bodies, the length of his legs was replaced by something longer. Bigger. It distinctly had two fins attached to the end, bent at an angle to accommodate the position he was fucking you in.

“R-Rafayel—!” 

“Fuck,” he strains, lining his forehead with yours. “I-I’m scared of hurting you.” 

“N-no,” you force your thick tongue to relinquish the words. “You'll never.”

His skin grew harder under your touch, inches of pale expanses replaced by shiny scales. Minus his face, his limbs, back, chest and torso were completely covered by the armor-like toughness of multiple hardened plates. Where the scales couldn’t touch, they were bonded together by thin layers of lamella, giving his entire body an otherworldly sheen. 

Mesmerized, you titled his face towards you, marveling at the scattering of scales adorning his throat and jaw. 

“Wow,” you murmur, touching them. They weren’t as hard or sharp as you imagined; his scales had a delightful give you couldn't stop pressing down on. 

In response, Rafayel grunts. “Baby… It’s happening.”

You were about to part your mouth and ask him what was, when your eyes shot wide open. 

The place where you both were connected suddenly grew tighter, as if something was pushing against your insides. Your muscles instinctively tried to expel the foreign intrusion, tensing and tightening—it was a shot of fear unlike any other you had ever tasted. 

Panicking, you cried out, “Rafayel, stop!”

Immediately, he ceased rutting into you, breathing heavily. Anguished, pastel eyes peel clapped onto yours, a pearly sheen filming over them.

“Shit… shit, I’m so sorry…”

“What’s happening?” you blurt out, a tremble of fear in your question. “Are you… are you putting e-eggs in me?” 

“Eggs?” he sounds bewildered, and that causes you to be perplexed in turn. Breathing hard, Rafayel’s forehead thumps onto your sternum. He doesn’t refute you or confirm your suspicions. Instead, he takes in a deep, ragged breath, like he was trying to tame down a cresting emotion. “Did you actually think, for a single second, that I was going to leave eggs in you?” 

Before you can even speak, his broad shoulders start to shake. Rafayel’s quiet laughter roused your confusion and indignation; your brows furrowing together because he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Shut up,” it was your turn to be the whiner in this relationship. “You’re mean. It’s a valid question!” 

“Oh, baby,” he wheezes. One second, he was laughing, and the next, he lapsed into a quiet seriousness, the sudden mood change giving you whiplash. “I would never hurt you like that, my love. Trust me.”

Gently grasping your hand with his, he slips it down both your bodies, right to where you two were connected. “What I meant to show you, my little conch shell, is this.” 

He brings your hand between your own legs. You thought he was going to make you touch yourself, but when you feel something hard and distinctively not flesh-like bump your hand, you flinch back.

“Ssh, don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “Go on and take a look, my love.”

Again with my love. 

Rafayel was either struck with nerves, or he was completely enamored with you at this moment. 

You licked your lips, tasting salt water on them and cautiously stretched your fingers to feel the strange object up. It was long and girthy, like a penis, except it wasn’t.

Steeling yourself, you risk a peek.

Gone was the smooth, veiny skin of Rafayel’s cock. His human one. 

In its place, was a thick length, riddled with ridges and bumps like an octopus’ tentacle. His very human appendage was always a stunner—slender (like his physique), veiny, with a hooked tip—but the sight before you (that strange and downright alien sight) blew your expectations out of the water. 

Your gasp reverberated around the pressing silence. Rafayel was quiet, waiting for you to speak. In turn, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his new genitalia. 

“Is that…” you struggle to piece together a coherent question. “Is that all… going inside of me?” 

Rafayel grunts. “Unless you don’t want me to, sweetheart.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, staring past the crest of his shoulder towards the shimmering, seemingly impenetrable ceiling of a world beyond the bubble you both created.

“I do,” you finally whisper, your confession rippling around the both of you, suspending your forms in an endless wave of mutual ecstasy. “I want this. I want you.”

Rafayel doesn’t bother to waste his time replying. You brace yourself, heels digging into his hips, clinging onto him with all of your strength. 

The first breach of his otherworldly cock inside of you felt like a touch of electricity up your spine. You cried out, nails digging into his scaly shoulders.

“Relax,” he paces you through the sensations. “I need you to relax for me, my love. I can’t get in if you’re this tight.” 

You gulp in a few deep breaths with your eyes screwed shut, and eventually, your heartbeat slows down. Sluggishly cracking your lids open, you catch the gleam in his pink-blue irises; locks of his iridescent hair floating around his serene expression.

The strange sensation was back, easing past your ring of muscle. You choke on a moan, trying to swallow your fear. 

“Ssh,” Rafayel murmurs. To distract you, he leaves feathery kisses on your cheeks, jaw and then, your lips. 

If the bottom of the ocean wasn’t enough to drown you, his kiss would. 

Rafayel… you whisper into the water. 

His name was a prayer dedicated to the Sea Gods on your tongue, your body sprawled out beyond your comprehension. Every line of you was taut with tension, the achingly slow stretch of his appendage plunging deeper and deeper into your heat had your head spinning like a whirlpool was threatening to suck you in. 

“Almost,” his harsh whisper clashes with your breath. “So good for me; you’re doing so good for me, my love.”

“Rafayel,” you mewled, the sea taking your tears. Hiccuping his name, you shudder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

Your fist clamped down on soft sand, your back arched, and finally—finally—you felt his hips clipping yours.

“Fuck.”

The both of you groan in unison. 

His kisses were still warm, flush on your parted lips. Rafayel shunted his hips forward, then back. Repeating the same motion. 

Again. Again. And again.

The sensation was unlike any other you had felt in this world. No cock could possibly compare to the ridges wrapped around his length, the blunt, elongated tip almost touching the deepest part of your body.

“Rafayel,” you cried in a thick voice, like your mouth was filled with cotton. “Oh, God…”

Your tits flushed to his chest, your fingers in his hair and his tongue twining with yours shook your inner world like a deep sea earthquake.

This wasn’t like your usual lovemaking sessions; everything was amplified, more sensitive and tangible.

God, was it all so tangible.

You could physically feel every scaly ridge under your fingertips. His modified cock dragging those ecstasy-inducing bumps across your walls. Even his taste was different underwater; like a briny, primal flavor which coated your tongue. 

“Y/N,” his moan more angelic than what you could handle. “I love you. I love you so, so much—” 

Rafayel choked, and you didn’t need to ask to know he was about to cum. 

The ecstasy of it all wrapped its tendrils around both your embracing bodies; a human and Lemurian entangled in a dance as old as time. 

“I love you,” you cry out, toes curling and your nails raking down his back. Rafayel grunts, and in the dim half-light of the ocean engulfing you, you swore you saw his frantic eyes shine like precious pearls.

The world was closing in, darkness seeping into the corners of your vision. 

You pushed on his shoulder, trying to get his attention; acutely aware that the ache in your lungs wasn’t because of his kisses, but of something else.

Something out of your control.

The call of the surface burned through your lungs, and you opened your mouth, about to scream for him to let you go, when it all slammed into you like a tidal wave.

Darkness exploded, splattering across your mind, and you heard his cry of your name, the sound now echoey and muggy.

There was movement. A sharp tug. What sounded like wind whistling through your ears. 

Through your snatches of consciousness, you were aware of the pushback both your bodies weathered through the wall of water; how the ocean was trying to hold you back.

As soon as the sensation appeared, it was shattered by a golden burst of fresh oxygen.

Gulping in mouthfuls of air, you yelled out in fright, blindly grappling across the writhing dark mess of endless ocean surrounding you. 

Rafayel! Rafayel!

You felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you in his embrace like how a father would cradle his child.

Close your eyes, you thought you heard him murmur in your ear. And don’t open them until I tell you it’s safe to.

Arms clamped around his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist, your intrinsic fear of the ocean made you trust his word. 

Gently now, you were bobbing across the water, the cool currents rushing across your bare skin. It felt like gelatinous cold drafts constantly hitting every body part. Staying true to his promise, you kept your eyes shut until you felt rough sand on your back; the waves receding from your body to lap at your toes.

Gasping, you peel your eyes open, lid by lid.

The alcove where he took you tonight was back in front of you. 

Rolling onto your front, you tried to stand, but only succeeded in stumbling back onto the sand; losing your sense of balance from countless minutes spent suspended in the ocean's mass.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.”

Rafayel was still in his Lemurian form, and this time, under the dim, flickering lights of the bay’s lanterns, you were stunned into an awe-inspiring disquiet.

The flickering warmth casted shadows over his iridescent scales, those once tough and gray plates under the ocean’s darkness glowing from the inside out with a pink-blue flame.

Half of his tail was still submerged in the water, and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze across the stunning length.

Easily a few feet long, you couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around the mental image of how majestic his entire Lemurian form would look underwater. It was just too bad the Hydroweed’s effects were over before you could even get to the good part.

Your thighs were chafing, drawing attention to your gapingly empty cunt. 

Pulling yourself to your knees, you came chest to chest with him. 

Rafayel’s saltwater soaked fingers grasped your cheeks, titling it up to inspect you. 

Trickles of water seeped down his face, darkening the sand with droplets of wetness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fraught and remorseful. “I lost track of time. I could’ve seriously injured you.”

“It’s okay.” The both of you flinched back from how hoarse your voice sounded. Clearing your throat, you struggled to put your mushy thoughts into words. “I… enjoyed it.”

Rafayel dropped his hands, his breathing growing ragged. “I should get back to normal—”

“No!” 

You stunned him with your vehemence, scrambling to grip his shoulders, clapping your crazed eyes onto his widened ones.

You’re acting like a mad woman. 

But, he didn’t say that to you. Rafayel grasped your hands, drawing them to his chest, pouring every drop of attention onto you. 

“I want to… try it… here.” 

You pieced together your incoherent request, and a part of you wondered—dreaded—if you had already lost your mind from the lack of oxygen and crushing deep sea pressure. 

Rafayel stared at you for a moment, unspeaking.

Then, he gently dragged you closer. Before you could even squeak, he had you straddling his waist. 

This time, it was your turn to peer down at him, curtains of your wet hair framing your face.

“Take me, then,” his voice was equally as hoarse as yours, though you suspected it wasn’t from ingesting enough saltwater to fill up your lungs. Trembling fingers touched your face, smoothing across your cheeks. “I’m all yours. I’ve been bound to you since the very beginning. You can take me, I won’t fight back. I told you I wouldn’t that night, don’t you remember? I’m keeping my word now.”

Something about the longing in his tone, how those pink-blue eyes yearned to swim in your soul, brought a lump to your throat. 

“Rafayel…”

Strong hands helped to guide your hips over his cock, easing you down with quiet praises and encouragement.

So good for me, baby. Look at you. Taking me so well. Wish I could paint this moment—you look so pretty. All for me. My love. My love. 

“R-Rafayel!” Thin red lines bloomed on his chest from your nails, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Without the sea’s buoyancy to support you, gravity took over, easing you down his bulbous cock.

Rafayel’s thumb circles your clit, rubbing it gently, soothingly, to get you wetter.

Your body felt like it was about to split cleanly into two—he was much too big for you. 

“C-can’t!” you whisper-cried. “I can’t take all of you—ngh.”

His mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking along the fleshy nubs until they were coated with his spit and tightening obscenely; an erotic outline lit by the bay's dim lantern lights.

“You can,” he mumbled in between your breasts. “I know you can.”

The rough strip of his tongue slid from your sternum towards your neck, pausing right at your pulse point. Sharp bites bloomed on your neck from his teeth, and you shiver from the throbbing pain going straight to your clit. 

That strange, heightening sensation was back. You felt much too sensitive, like a lightning rod trembling from an impending electrical storm.

One touch could’ve made you explode.

Rafayel brought your lips to his, tangling his tongue down your throat; stoppering your cries. 

Warm, smooth, distinctively human palms caressed your hips and thighs. 

Almost in, baby, he whispers in between kisses. I can feel every inch of you. 

You flit your eyes to where both your bodies meet, in mute shock from how deep he already was in you.

“You like it, baby?” he breathes warmly on your jaw. “Like watching yourself sit on my cock?” 

Fuck. Stop teasing me, you want to whine. But, the words won’t slip past your clenched teeth. 

His name bounces across the soft sand, the wind picking up and making you shiver. 

The warm glow of the lanterns spill across his sharp cheekbones, planes of his jaw. You’ve never seen someone look this beautiful under a hazy night sky before.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you feel him murmur against your lips. “Say the word, baby. We’ll stop.”

You’re panting now, trying hard not to break your progress and having to start over. Rafayel was about halfway inside, and you forced your body to push and receive. 

Guh, you gasp, tossing your head back. 

“Love seeing you stretch yourself out on my cock, baby,” Rafayel mutters hoarsely—passionately. 

The implicit meaning in his words is clear: I love how you give yourself so willingly to me.

For Rafayel, you would do this ten times over until your body memorizes him. Willing your cunt to make a home for his monster cock even if it would break your spine.

“Almost,” he reassures in a low groan. “You feel s’good baby.”

He’s sweating as well, bullets of exertion not to break his composure and fuck into you mingling with the last of the seawater droplets rolling down his temples.

Rafayel, Rafayel, you whimper his name over and over. Oh God…

Something bubbles inside of you, thick and hot. You think you’re about to spill over, thighs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up. 

Your lover groans, low and lusty, his eyes trapped right in between your legs. “You’re so wet—look. Your little pussy loves me, baby.”

You glance to where he’s telling you to look, and nearly pass out from the embarrassment. 

Thick, pearly droplets are oozing down his merman length, and you would’ve thought it was from him had you not felt your walls start to twitch—more wetness gushing and trickling down to stain his pelvis.

The added lubrication made it easy enough for you to bottom out on his cock, and both your mutual cries of ecstasy reverberated into the dark night.

Shit, shit. Too big. You’re too big for me.

“You can take it,” he mouths your earlobe, kissing down your cheek. “Doing so well for me.”

Your breathing trembles, like a question hanging in thin air. Can you fuck me now? 

Rafayel scoffs and bumps his nose with yours gently. “Always making me do the hard work. You really are my spoiled, pretty princess, aren’t you? Or…” his voice drops, the heat in his eyes almost scorching you. “Do you want to be my good girl?”

You gasp: I do. I want to be your good girl.

He hisses when you start to shift your hips, the motion making your clit catch on his pelvis. You mewl, leaning forward to repeat the same motion; trying to chase after that spark of pleasure over and over again.

Those big, smooth palms cradle your face, pushing your hair back.

Rafayel’s jaw is tense, like he’s biting down on some inner demon you can’t see. 

That’s it. That’s my good girl. 

Your nails leave white crescent moons on his pale shoulders as you ride him, every bump and ridge of his cock brushing your sweet spot. He was so deep in you, almost plunging right past your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

An arm sweeps you right to his chest, your cheek pressed atop his heartbeat. Rafayel thrusts his hips up, meeting your sensual grinding.

Spit pools in the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as you let your Lemurian lover have his way with you. You part your mouth, mellifluous moans touching the air and turning it golden to his reddened ears.

I love you. His whispers against your throat, the sting of his teeth soothed by the sweetness of his praise and adoration. I love you so much, my good girl.

“You fuck me so good,” the words tumble from your split mouth, recklessly thoughtful. “No one can fuck me like you.”

Yeah, he pants, mouthing your pulse point. Cream on this cock, baby. It’s all yours. His hands span across your lower back, traversing down to grip your ass and spreading you wider for him.

Give me everything you’ve got, Princess. 

His cock plunges so deep inside of you, and you were sure that if he came right now, he might’ve knocked you up in one try. 

All yours. Rafayel was all yours. 

You lean up, arms resting on either side of his head as the sand bites into your skin. 

Rafayel thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. He watches, mesmerized, as your tits sway right in front of his face. You’re fucking him now, meeting each fluid thrust he had to give; bouncing on his lap like you were riding out a desperate heat.

His thighs tense, and he feels your pussy clench down on him. 

Fuck, you stutter, and so do your hips. I’m close. 

He squeezes your ass, smacks it with both palms.

Your breathing catches, and you ride him even harder. Faster.

“Fuck,” those pretty eyes were hooded, latched on your bouncing tits and stiff nipples. “Look so good fucking me—you love using me, don’t you, Master?” 

You gasp, and Rafayel feels your composure slip when you squeeze down on him. He almost cums right there and then. But, he fights it off, needing to see you lose control first.

The sight of your stickiness frothing at the base of his cock nearly makes him white out in pleasure, getting messier with every stroke of his non-human cock. 

He’s never had a human before in his Lemurian form, but it’s something straight out of a wild, wet dream.

Your skin was so, so soft in comparison to his hard scales that he’s almost afraid of hurting you with them.

But, you prove you’re made of tougher stuff when you lean back, bracing both hands on the girth of his tail. 

Showing off your puffy pussy and glistening hole taking every inch of him like it was made for this and only for this purpose.

He feels himself drowning in you. No one has ever taken him this deep. His mouth falls open, a low grunt touching your hot ears. Good girl… good fucking girl. His praises make you warm all over. You would do anything and everything to earn his devotion. But, Rafayel doesn’t make you do it—he gives it to you freely. One large hand smoothed over your belly, your tits, pinching your nipples and smirking inwardly when you gasp and groan. 

Breathy whimpers resound, his thumb on your clit rubbing out full body shudders. The sky above spins, like he’s being sucked into and about to be spat out of a whirlpool.

His eyes bounce from the softness of your belly, your tits jiggling, and then back down to your pretty pussy taking all of him in.

“Like what you see?” 

Rafayel flits his gaze back up. Your eyes were two pools of smoldering heat, about to burn him alive.

You grab his wandering hand, pressing it right over your stomach. “I can feel you here.” He twitches, and you gasp. “So, so deep.”

Sloppy sounds of your bodies meeting; you were so, so wet and perfect. Your pussy was gushing, fighting between squeezing him out or sucking him in. 

I’m gonna cum, baby, he grunts. The vein in his neck tightens, and your whimper almost sets him off.

Gonna cum so deep inside of you. Make you so round and perfect with my babies. You’re my Queen, aren’t you? My love. I’ll love you until the seas dry up. You’re mine forever. 

It’s that tinge of possessiveness which does you under. You were putty to his deep, gravelly voice; those words of unending devotion and sin.

His thick, dark lashes flutter, those pretty eyes rolling back into his head.

Fuck, baby. He grabs onto your hips, looking for something to steady him. “I need you… I’m gonna cum,” he whines, and it’s pathetic really—how much you’ve affected him.

If he was a lesser man, Rafayel might’ve called you his weakness. But, you were more than that.

You were the reason he woke up in the mornings. The reason he relentlessly pursued the passages of time and space to find you; you were the muse to his madness. 

“Do it for me, baby,” you pant, and fall back into his arms. Chest to chest, lips to lips, every breath you took was exhaled by his own. “Cum for me.”

Make me yours forever, Rafayel.

The world goes white, and your pussy quivers around him, an ending opera note suspended in mid-air.

It comes crashing down, slo-mo turned to a normal pace when time rushes back to engulf your sluggish shore.

His cum fills you up, thicker and running hotter than a human’s. It felt strange; pulsating inside of you, glob after glob. Your pussy shudders and breaks, physical and emotional walls all torn down for him; voice hoarse and edged with mania. Rafayel, Rafayel, Rafayel…

You mumble his name like a prayer while he drags your lips to his, kissing you like an oath.

He feels you shudder around him, growing weaker like a kitten. It would be so easy for him to pierce your neck with his teeth, cut through your jugular with his scales. 

But, Rafayel tames his primal, oceanic urge to destroy, reining it back in favor of nosing your hair.

“Felt so good,” he mumbles tiredly. “Are you okay, my little conch shell?”

You hum, shift your hips. The bulbous head of his cock brushes the opening of your cervix. “I can’t believe I took you so deep.” You drift off and in a few minutes, feel him go from soft to half-hard in you again. 

“Are you still turned on, baby?” you ask innocently, voice soft and frayed with exhaustion. Rafayel swivels his face away, trying to hide his red ears.

“N-no.”

You huff a laugh, using all the strength in your jelly-like limbs to sit up. Something catches your attention, and in the corner of your eye, you pick up the dark strands, fisting it close to your mouth.

Rafayel watches, unsure what you’re intending to do. He sits up, squints, and almost gasps.

That’s enough Hydroweed for you to last a night under the ocean. 

He’s about to stop you, when you ingest it all in one go.

The second you convulse, he pushes you back into the ocean, your gasp of relief second to only his bruising kiss completely devouring your mouth. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, and your back meets the ocean floor again. This time, you take the lead, rolling him off to straddle his waist again. 

Rafayel glances at you, gorgeous pastel eyes hooded. 

He notices how comfortable you’re getting underwater; how easy it is for you to scoot down his torso, your playful smirk making his cock and heartstrings throb. 

“Baby—” he mumbles, only to be cut off by the sight of you kissing his bulbous tip.

Rafayel isn’t a believer of god per say (coming from his own experience as a retired sea deity), but at the sight of your pretty lips skimming his merman tip, he thinks he could give religion another shot. 

What’re you doing? His whisper carries across the currents.

Ssh, you hush him, rimming the tip of your tongue around his flushed head. You don’t miss how his tail twitches, cock now painfully at full mast. 

Isn’t it obvious? You mumble, kissing the tip reverently. I want to taste my Lemurian's pretty cock.

He seizes, back arching, putty in your hands when you take him down as deep as your little throat allows. 

What else you couldn’t fit, you used your hands to jack up and down.

Soft hisses slip past his clenched teeth. “You’re driving me crazy, baby.”

Mhm, you slur, flickering your hazy, fucked out gaze to his flushed face. Tastes so good, you whisper, and Rafayel was glad the ocean didn’t show the line of drool that usually trickles down your jaw; your fucked out expression which would make his control snap instantly. 

You would need to consume at least three more mouthfuls of Hydroweed before he was fully done with you. 

Luckily, Thomas’ yacht came with some fluffy towels.

Rafayel had wrapped you in one while he laid the other under your back; content to curl his tail around you, still in his Lemurian form. The honeywood deck was warm to the touch, the balmy evening offering comfort and respite from hours underneath the cold, dark ocean. 

“So…” he quips, not one for stewing in silence. “Questions? Thoughts? Comments?” 

You fight back a smile. 

“Was there really eggs put up inside of me? Swore I felt a lot of round and hard things sloshing inside.”

“That… would be my tip.” Rafayel flicks your nose when you scoff. “On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out would you be if I said I did actually put some eggs up in your body and it had to be fertilized so the rest would start falling out of you like gelatinous goo until the only one takes?” 

You blink. “Pretty freaked out, if I’m being honest.”

“So… a nine?” 

“More like—” you lifted your hand and made a so-so motion. “—a six, at best. I’m kinda used to your bullshit by now, babe.” 

“Hey!” Rafayel tugs on the ends of your hair, making you laugh. Growing serious now, he murmurs, “So, you’re absolutely fine with being knocked up with a half-Lemurian kid?” 

“Depends,” you mumble mildly. “Am I the first one you’re doing this with?”

Barely missing a beat, he nodded. “The only one. Never had time to sleep around. Always busy running a kingdom. Blah-blah. Typical God of the Sea stuff. No biggie.”

“Aw,” you coo, “I’m so honored you waited for me.” 

You expected him to scoff or roll his eyes, not lapse into a serious quietness. Rafayel’s silence stretched on, and you perched your jaw on his shoulder.

“Hey. Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Hmm.” Rafayel tugs you closer, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his cheek. His lips are inches apart from yours, warm breath touching your parted mouth. You taste him on your tongue, invigorating yet comforting.

A well-worn sign of home. 

“Just that I would do it all over again. Wait for you, I mean. Even if it takes a long, long time.”

A few centimeters and 800 years stand between the two of you. 

But, for tonight, you breach the distance and kiss him, grateful that you had been given this cherished memory together with Rafayel.

— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!

��️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.

[reignpage]

That's Not My Name

Smau: in which they call you someone else's name Warnings: cursing, mild sexual language, typos, mild angst, mostly fluff, crack Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi, Inumaki

[fushitoru]

rainy days and brownies

pairing ⸺ college/modern!au: bf!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ you wake up for some soft moments with your boyfriend that involves brownies (turned freaky)

warnings ⸺ smut, tooth rotting fluff, some mild angst?, gojo unfortunately mentions skibidi toilet, I think I made gojo gen z here, boob worship, brownies and baking, established relationship, oral (f!receiving), gojo eats pussy like a champ, NOT EDITED, might be incoherent to everyone except me, product of a forceful effort to escape writer’s block, rainy mornings <3, lots of intimacy, art by 3-aem, probably in the same universe as this

general masterlist

Rainy mornings with Satoru means baking.

It’s a ritual the both of you have fallen into. On a day like this, where the air smells like rain, you blearily wake up from your nap to smell the warm distinct aroma of overly sweet brownies.

The slutty brownies were Satoru’s masterpiece. Even if he did overdo the sugar, you can’t admit that your stomach was growling as you rubbed your bleary eyes and frowned while raking a hand through your head. This bed head was going to be a bitch to untangle with the hairbrush.

“AND IIIIIIIIIIIII, WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUU—“

You jumped, caught off guard by Satoru randomly deciding to pay homage to Whitney Houston. Standing up, you headed towards the living room of you and Satoru’s apartment—-not before you adjusted your tank top so your tits weren’t out and the boy shorts you chose to sleep in properly covered your ass.

“WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUU—-“ You cringed at Satoru’s attempt of a high note, grumpily looking at him use his chocolate covered spatula as a makeshift mic. He was in the kitchen—-shirtless, of course—-now bending over to peek at the state of his brownies in the oven. Deciding the brownies weren’t done yet, he closed the oven door and stood up once more, reaching for his phone to undoubtedly scroll through TikTok. Continuing to hum different variations of the chorus, he swiped at his phone, ignorant to your presence behind him.

You think he’s kind of sweet like this. If it weren’t for him, the both of you would never be in this position. You would always be the cold frigid bitch he saw in freshman orientation and occasionally at parties across campus, and he would be the sweet, friendly guy that all the girls would continue to fall head over heels for.

To be honest, you don’t really see what he sees in you. You’re like a Disney villain, the witch that entraps him in her webs of insecurity and jealousy, but he remains the valiant prince, fighting to get to you. When he finally has you in his arms, he kisses you into believing that you are his princess instead.

It’s obvious in the way he fought for you—memorizing your schedule, rushing across campus just to walk you to class, pleading with you to grab dinner. And each time, you’d brush him off with sharp rejections, finding excuses to keep him at arm’s length.

But when he finally had you, finally cracked all your defenses—he was never going to let you go. You could see as much; the way he proudly walked on campus with you at his side, across the main quad so he could boast that he got you. You were his, and he was fully, undoubtedly yours. At parties, his eyes would always be on you, raking his eyes up and down your figure in your nurse outfit, conjuring up the hundred and thirty four positions he would fuck you so good in, even if there were prettier girls clinging onto his arms asking for a morsel of his attention. Pettily enough, you would just need to sigh and mumble “This party isn’t fun,” to have Satoru whipped, ushering you out of the frat house while those girls glared at the back of your Halloween costume, angry beyond measure that a nobody like you has the campus sweetheart wrapped around your finger.

Loud booms of the Vine gunshot sound effect snaps you back into the present, where Satoru is snickering at some god awful brain rot. You choose to approach him, wrapping your arms around his waist and smothering your face into his muscular back.

“Hi baby,” you mumble.

“Guess which sleepyhead is awake!” He announces to the world and turns around, and your traitorous heart jumps in its chest while looking into his eyes. It’s stupid. You’re both in your PJs on a morning where the rain thuds against the window pane, blurring both the window and all outside life, suspending you both in this moment. His eyes look affectionately down to you, and he plants a wet kiss on your forehead. “How was your nap, baby?”

“It was good.” You watch him turn around again to peek at the oven, and he hums, upper arm flexing as he grabs the heavy bag of flour, dragging it closer to him. “When’d you get up?”

“Around 7.”

You shoot him a bewildered look as you hop onto the counter, a better space to observe your boyfriend. When he realized that you had woken up, he had left his phone open to give you a kiss, reel playing noises. You peek over and almost snort at what is playing.

“Satoru, why are you watching alligators get chased away by a shovel?”

He looks up from the bowl of brownie batter he was now cleaning—-with his tongue, mind you—-and grins boyishly. “Isn't it crazy how hundreds of years of evolution get destroyed by a shovel?”

”Your feed is not normal,” you shake your head, keeping a stony face as you continue to scroll through his TikTok. In fact, it’s hilarious—-the things he got were weirder than one could dream, with toilets producing heads of men taking over whole cities. You’re not sure what that means about your boyfriend, but you accept it as you watch the nonsensical video.

“Wait,” he makes his way over to you, standing in between your legs. “Is that skibidi toilet?”

“What the hell is that.”

“Baby,” he whines. “You don’t know the lore? I don’t know if I can be with you for any longer.”

Your bite back a grin. “And subjecting me to hours of FNAF backstory wasn’t testament to how much I love you?”

Before he could whine back, you noticed he had some leftover chocolate on the side of his mouth and leaned over to lick it. Humming at the taste, you grabbed his hands and took in his brownie coated index and middle finger into your mouth.

He frowns. “Are you trying to seduce me into forgiving you and giving you more brownies?”

You laugh softly and give him a soft smooch on his shoulder. “No, silly. If I ate any more than half, I would have diabetes.”

He grabs the back of your hips and pulls you closer into him, nuzzling his nose against yours. The physical contact rubs at your nerves the right way, firing off that emotional part of you that makes you think loving him is so easy. How lucky you are that he’s chosen to give you his love.

His god-awful alarm blares—same annoying sound he keeps hitting snooze on for his 7ams—and the moment breaks as he reaches for the oven mitts to pull out the brownies. The aroma hits you instantly, making your mouth water. Satoru blows dramatically on the brownies, pouting and mock-yelling, “Hurry up and cool down! My girlfriend wants to eat you.” You can’t help but giggle. Once Satoru finally decides they’re cool enough, he grabs one and offers it to you. “Make way for the choo-choo train!” he snickers, guiding the brownie through imaginary tracks, a shit-eating grin on his face, before plopping it into your mouth.

You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the brownie melts on your tongue, its warmth enveloping your senses. Rich, velvety tones of chocolate overwhelm your mouth, with each bite releasing a symphony of deep, indulgent flavors that linger long after the brownie is fully swallowed. “Wow, this is actually good.”

He pauses, brownie and hand held in mid air. “Why do you sound surprised?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug innocently but stick your tongue out to him regardless.

Popping the brownie in his mouth--but not before sending you a pout---he brushes his hands together to remove the brownie crumbs as he makes his way back in between your legs. The way he settles between them makes you all too aware of the heat of his groin encompassing you. He lazily drags his eyes up your figure, but not before settling on your outfit. His eyes then flick down to watch his hands trace the hem of your tank top, and your eyes follow his hands, a little dizzy by the action.

You’re always a bit sensitive in the mornings, and before this day, you and Satoru’s interactions have been limited to a kiss before he runs for his 7am and then doing college work until 3am, where you’re both too tired for anything particularly frisky. So, yea, you are kind of pent up---and judging by the bulge that’s starting to form in Satoru’s sweats, you assume he is too.

You put your elbows on his shoulder blades to give him head scratches from behind and lean towards his jawlines giving small kisses. You can feel him close his eyes, purring silently like a cat, and underneath your hands, his back and shoulder blades tense and relax as you rake your hands over his scalp.

“This new?” He uses his index finger to snap the strap of your tank top against your shoulder, using his mouth to given open mouthed kisses to your collarbone.

“Mhm,” you hum, a little deliriously at that---he’s begun to trail down, mouth working at the swell of your breasts.

He slowly pulls the collar of your tank down, down down down until your breast pops out. His eyes trace the swing urgently and groans. “I missed these, sweet girl.”

You gasp sharply when he puts it in his mouth, tongue swirling around the nipple. Satoru’s always been a boob guy, joking about his hands being your bra to support “those mommy milkers.” Right now, he’s doing just that; groping the hell out of them and giving them kisses, as if they were God’s greatest creation.

As much as you were enjoying your boyfriend’s boob worshipping, you need more. You were throbbing in want of contact on your pussy, and you made sure to relay just that. “Toru, I need more,” you whined.

“God forbid a man appreciate nice boobs.” He rolls his like the sassy man he is and parts with your nipple like lips after a messy and wet make out session. Your breasts are gleaming with his spit, a string connecting your nipple to his lips. He trails his face down your torso, making his way down to his knees until he was facing your crotch.

You whine and clench your thighs together to draw his face closer to the space between your thighs. He looks up at you and coos, giving your inner thigh a kiss. “I can smell you from here, cutie.”

His statement reminds you that you’re not too wet in the mornings. As soon as you wake up, some of your morning sessions with Satoru require the aid of lube to ensure no pain. Irritation flares at you at the thought that you might need to leave your position to grab some l—-

Oh.

“What the hell. I thought you wet your pants,” Satoru giggles. The finger running through your folds glides messily, as you both marvel to how wet you are. You’re also on another plane; you haven’t felt his touch for weeks, and the feeling overwhelms you as the squelches your pussy makes echo throughout the kitchen.

Satoru gives you a kiss on your neck. “Baby, can I?” You deliriously remember that he’s lightly circling his finger around your entrance and when you finally give him the okay, he pushes in.

Both of you groan at how tight you are. “Satoru,” you moan and proceed to bring him in for a kiss as he pistons in and out of your pussy, curling them just the way you like and making you see colors.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he groans. “Left my baby so pent up.”

At that, all you can do is nod and whimper in agreement. All that leaves your mouth are gasps of his names and oh my god’s because he’s making you feel so good.

And then, you almost scream as you feel him blowing hot air onto your folds, leaning down to give teasing kitten licks around your clit, but not directly on it. His tongue drags up and down until he finally stops it right next to your clit as if feeling the sensation of your pussy throbbing, echoing your fastened heartbeat skin-to-skin while drooling.

Frustrated, you try to move your hips, but Satoru grabs them to stay in place. He’s so close to the place you want him, but he’s stationed in one place, spit flowing down as his tongue is still and his dark eyes are staring at you as if enraptured by your struggling.

“Satoru, please lick my clit,” you moan wantonly, begging for him to change his position.

But Satoru Gojo wouldn’t be Satoru Gojo without some teasing. “What was that, baby? Avoid your clit? You got it.”

“No,” you sobbed, grabbing onto his hair and directing his tongue to your clit. This time, he relents, sucking the bud into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, making you see stars.

But soon, his quick and fast lapping turn into lazy licks, and you get frustrated, grinding against air and pussy oozing out wetness as Satoru keeps his tongue outstretched in front of you but not close enough to make contact with your skin, teasing. You hate the feeling of your pussy throbbing and the inner thighs and pussy wet with your slick, lacking the sensation you needed to finally climax. “Oh my god, Satoru, please make me cum.”

“I don’t know baby, you sound pretty commanding to me.” The motherfucker shrugs as if he has nothing to do with your dilemma and starts trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His touches were close to where you needed him most, making you ache for the sensation of his wet laps against you.

“Please, baby,” you beg. “You feel so good, you’re making me feel soo good. I love you so much. Please let me cum.” You’re full on sobbing, hips writhing to get any sensation in.

Satoru, at your display, seems to give in, because he’s coming in once more, giving you a sweet little kiss on your clit. You nearly ascend.

He’s diving in, making a rhythm of dipping his tongue into your entrance and coming back to give sloppily wet laps on your clit. It’s when he groans while his tongue is inside, hot air and vibrations needily simulating your clit, that you come up with a gasp. You roll your hips, Satoru giving you little licks to help you ride out your orgasm.

For how hard you came, you’re bucking your hips frantically, body on a mind of its own as you almost fall off the counter. Satoru has to grip your thighs to prevent that potential injury and rubs soothing circles on the outside of your thigh as you pant, wetness and sweat likely painting the counter beneath you. It’s not until your breath returns back to it’s normal pace that you notice Satoru’s head against your thighs, looking up at you with lovesick eyes.

You’re probably giving him the same look back, you realize, given he made you ascend to heaven and back. He gives an affectionate kiss to your mound, moaning corny shit like “Your pussy tastes sweeter than the brownie.”

And then he stands up, knees popping on the way back up, and despite your fucked out state, you can’t help but giggle. “You old man with the popping knee caps.”

He glares at you playfully, but you know his expression too well to know there’s no real offense in it. “Hey. Rude to say that after I just made you cum your brains out.”

”And you’re about to get the same thing,” you purr, putting a hand on his hard-on. He hisses but looks at you with lust blown eyes as he grabs the back of your thighs to carry you to your shared bedroom.

Yes, rainy days do mean baking with Satoru, but not without intimacy with your even sweeter boyfriend in bed.

general masterlist

comment or reblog to let me know your thoughts! I appreciate all of them <3

a/n lol this was a bitch to write. this might be a word soup or salad or whatever for all readers and that’s ok! I’ve written this primarily at 1am so…

eugh ok im going back to writing ch5 of bridgerton!gojo and fixing the em dashes in this post when i wake up LOL

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Jiah’s smau!

BIG FLIRT ﹒박성훈

✸ SYNOPSIS ！ everybody knows being an idol isn't easy, especially when you are a rookie. however, when people start to ship you with the infamous park sunghoon, things go out of hands and it's like he is doing everything in his power to keep the rumors going.

or in which ！sunghoon sees a girl in the hybe buildings and develops a crush on her then decides to court her at every chance he gets, even if it's on camera.

PARING ⌇ parksunghoon x fem!reader

𐙚 GENRE idol au, coworkers (?) to lovers, fluff, humorous, tiny bit of angst, smau + maybe some written chapters, twitter language, kys/kms jokes, he is obsessed & she's just happy to be there.

MAIN CAST ୭ৎ photo references! ive wonyoung, enha! all, nmixx! sullyoon, k1per! bahiyyih, newjeans! danielle & lesserafim! eunchae.

ORIGINAL SOUNDTRACK ! big flirt by lil hero (⸝⸝⸝╸▵╺⸝⸝⸝)

PROFILES ✢ pretty girls assemble ❗️﹒ hyhyhypen

MASTERLIST

prologue i'm a minor.

01 consider ur hand cut and your money already gone

02 fym nuh-huh?

03 #1 tokkipengz shipper

04 ingakayo sandwich

05 YASS :p

. . . more to be added

taglist open ❗️ @jiawji @haechansbbg @flwrshee @antivenus @ilovewonyo @mariji @nshrkilvbt @jungwoneez @randomperfecfions05 @flwrshee @planethyuka @imtoanonymousforyou @rikisly @j1nniee @ibsysbsfsunsbs @iea-tsand @pussyslayerhd @chaerybae @ririlovesrenjun @squishniki @rieumura @simp4jakesim @mixtape-racha @he6rtshaker @taeraeririii @run2seob send ask or dm to be added networks @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ROOM FOR RENT

PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader

RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕

WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!

LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine

If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.

Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--

Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.

Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.

He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.

Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.

"Hello?"

A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"

"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"

"How much is it?"

"Your half would be $950.”

"And it's a whole bedroom?"

"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."

"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."

"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"

"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.

"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"

"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."

"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"

"Just tell me, I'll remember."

After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.

No results.

You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.

No results.

You try spelling his name differently.

No results.

You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.

A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.

"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.

He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.

Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.

Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.

"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.

"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"

Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."

"My what?"

"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"

"No," Logan grunts.

"A cold date, then?"

Logan pinches his nose. "No."

"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"

"The who?"

"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.

"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.

"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"

"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."

"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"

"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."

"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.

"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."

Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.

"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.

You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.

Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.

"Hi! You must be--“

Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.

"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.

"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."

You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.

"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"

"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."

"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"

"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."

"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."

"Dumpling?"

As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.

"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."

Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.

"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”

"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"

"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.

"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."

"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"

Were you?

"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."

Having a roommate is...an adjustment.

Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.

But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.

Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.

"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, bub?"

"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"

He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.

"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"

"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"

A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.

"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.

"I don't see it."

"It's the bone structure."

"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."

Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.

It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.

That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.

Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.

He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.

It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.

Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.

Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.

"Shut up," he whispers.

Dumpling meows in return.

You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.

"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"

Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.

You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--

Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.

"Morning," he says.

"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"

"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.

"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"It will be."

He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.

You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.

Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.

"Shut up," you whisper to him.

Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.

You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.

"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.

"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."

Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.

"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"

"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"

Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.

"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"

"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"

"Ouch!"

"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"

"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."

Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.

"Get out," he growls.

"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"

"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?

"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."

"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.

"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."

You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you should be doing."

His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.

"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"But I could," he bites back.

"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.

Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks.

You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.

"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.

His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.

You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.

"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."

"Do what?" you tease.

"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."

You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.

"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."

You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.

"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.

"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."

He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.

You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.

"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"

He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."

You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.

You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Just getting started."

Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.

You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.

"Scared yet?" he asks.

"I wouldn't say that.”

He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.

"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."

Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.

"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.

He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.

Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.

"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"

You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.

"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.

"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.

In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.

"Please," you murmur.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."

"Need you to fuck me."

Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.

"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."

You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.

He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.

Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.

"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.

Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.

"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.

"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.

You've got better things to do right now.

Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!

[mostly-imagines]

Banished

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason misses his girlfriend

warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)

Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.

Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes while Tim has sat atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.

Damian trudges into the room, past them and onto the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.

He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”

Jason just grunts.

He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.

But it’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He secretly wouldn’t really mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stayed behind. A lose-lose for Jason.

“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.

Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”

Jason keeps his head down as he blindly reaches for the spoon in his cereal and chucks it at Tim’s head.

Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”

“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.

Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”

“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.

Damian pauses.

“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.

“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.

Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”

It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.

Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.

He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.

Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.

He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.

And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.

And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.

Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.

But you could.

Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.

He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.

He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.

And he watches Jason.

As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.

He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.

He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.

The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.

✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨

[lizziesangel]

RAFE CAMERON - that’s so true

x HIGH MAINTENANCE! KOOK !FEM!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: you're insecure about your relationship with rafe, when he gets closer with sofia

WORD COUNT: +5.2k

GENRE: ANGST to fluff

CONTENT WARNING: /

listen to 'that's so true' from gracie abrams for better experience <3.

‘i could go and read your mind

think about your dumb face all the time

living in your glass house, i’m outside, uh’

the late afternoon sun filtered through the wide windows of tannyhill’s living room, casting a golden glow on the sprawling estate. you sat cross-legged on the plush cream couch, scrolling through your phone with one hand while idly tugging at the hem of your baby pink knit sweater with the other. notifications of luxury sales popped up intermittently, but your heart wasn’t in it today. instead, your mind was somewhere else. more accurately, on someone else.

across the room, rafe cameron leaned casually against the kitchen island, deep in conversation with sofia. the sound of her laugh—the kind that wasn’t too loud, not too fake—floated over, making your stomach twist.

sofia wasn’t your idea of a kook, not the kind who frequented boutiques or spent hours curating their aesthetic. her laid-back charm was effortless, her simple jeans and oversized hoodie a stark contrast to the tailored mini-skirt you had on. she didn’t even wear jewelry. yet, here she was, drawing rafe in with that natural ease, her hair in a messy braid like she didn’t care, and maybe she didn’t.

you hated how it made you feel. jealous. small. stupid.

“she’s kind,” you had said casually a week ago, after introducing him to her at a party. “quiet and smart girl. we grew up together.”

kind. quiet. the opposite of you.

rafe laughed at something she said, his face lighting up with that rare, genuine smile that made your chest ache. he looked at sofia like she reminded him of simpler times, back when life wasn’t all country club politics and family business drama. you tried to shove the feeling down, but it clawed its way back up, leaving you restless.

were you too much? the bi-weekly nail appointments, the balayage touch-ups every few months, the shopping sprees that felt more like therapy—was that what made you wrong for rafe? you’d caught a glimpse of sofia’s chipped nail polish earlier, and it was the type of thing rafe would probably call “charming.”

the thought was a jagged knife, twisting in your gut.

“babe, you good?” rafe’s voice broke your spiraling thoughts.

you looked up, startled, realizing he was staring at you now, his brows furrowed in mild concern. sofia was gone—when had she left?—and it was just you and rafe in the quiet hum of the room.

“yeah,” you lied, pasting on a smile. “just tired.”

“you sure?” he came closer, towering over you with his familiar scent of cologne and something distinctly rafe. his rough hand brushed your knee, a touch that was meant to reassure but only made you feel more exposed.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “positive.”

he didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. you let yourself sink into him, resting your head against his shoulder. the warmth of his body should’ve been comforting, but all it did was remind you of how far away you felt.

outside, the sun was setting, its rays casting shadows through the glass windows. you thought about sofia, imagined her in her car with the windows down, humming along to the radio, not worrying about being enough for anyone. and then you thought about yourself—polished, perfect, but perpetually on the outside, peering into rafe’s world, a world where you never felt like you truly fit.

rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead. “you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“of course,” you whispered, even though it wasn’t true.

‘looking into big blue eyes

did it just to hurt me and make me cry

smiling through it all, yeah, that’s my life’

the sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as you sat on the edge of the beach blanket, digging your manicured nails into the soft fabric. rafe and sofia were waist-deep in the ocean, laughing as the current pushed them around. she squealed when a wave hit her back, and rafe threw his head back in laughter, that easy, carefree laugh you loved so much.

but it wasn’t directed at you.

“you’re not going in?” sarah asked, plopping down next to you with her iced tea in hand. she stretched her legs out, glancing at you sideways.

“not really feeling it,” you replied, plastering on a smile as you smoothed the hem of your sundress. you didn’t trust yourself to look at the water again, not with how raw you were already feeling.

sofia’s voice cut through the air. “rafe! stop!” she shrieked, laughing as he splashed her with water. they looked like a scene out of some beachy rom-com—his strong frame towering over her, her golden-brown hair clinging to her neck as she playfully shoved him.

sarah gave you a look, one you didn’t need right now.

“what?” you asked, feigning confusion.

“don’t what me. you’re sitting here stewing when you should just talk to him.”

“there’s nothing to talk about,” you said quickly. too quickly.

sarah sighed. “you’ve been weird ever since sofia came back from europe. she’s your best friend. rafe’s your boyfriend. you need to chill.”

“yeah, i know that,” you snapped, guilt immediately twisting in your stomach. sarah wasn’t wrong, but the truth was too tangled for you to admit out loud.

you turned your head to steal another glance at them. sofia threw her head back in a laugh, her face turned toward the setting sun, water glistening off her skin like she was straight out of a magazine spread. and rafe, with his piercing blue eyes, couldn’t seem to look away from her.

your chest felt tight. you wanted to believe his gaze was harmless, that it was just the kind of attention sofia naturally drew wherever she went. but some dark, irrational part of you whispered that it wasn’t—that rafe was looking at sofia the way you wished he always looked at you.

they started heading back toward the beach, their laughter fading into the sound of the waves. you quickly fixed your expression, schooling it into something neutral, something practiced.

“hey!” sofia grinned as she plopped down next to you, wringing water out of her hair. “you missed out. the waves were amazing.”

“yeah, i just got my hair done,” you smiled lightly, ignoring the pang in your chest.

“your loss,” rafe said as he dropped beside you, his arm slinging around your shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you leaned into him, smiling like you always did. sofia leaned over to pull a drink out of the cooler, and your gaze flicked between her and rafe, catching a glimpse of his blue eyes lingering on her for just a second too long.

your heart sank. but you didn’t say anything.

instead, you smiled wider, locking it all away like you always did. this was your life, wasn’t it? loving rafe. loving sofia. watching them shine brighter than you ever could while you tried not to let the cracks show.

‘you’re an idiot, now i’m sure

now i’m positive, i should go and warn her’

the door to rafe’s room slammed shut behind you, the echo reverberating in your chest as you stood there, arms crossed, staring him down. the tension in the air was thick, neither of you willing to break the silence first.

it had started small, like these things always did. a casual question from rafe about why you’d been quiet lately, his concern laced with impatience when you deflected for the third time that day.

“you don’t even let me pay for anything anymore,” rafe said, his tone edged with irritation. “when was the last time you asked me to cover your nails, or your hair, or whatever? that’s what i’m here for.”

your stomach twisted, but you didn’t let it show. “i don’t need your money, rafe. i have my own.”

“that’s not the point,” he shot back, stepping closer. “it’s what i do. i’ve always done it. why are you shutting me out like this?”

“i’m not shutting you out,” you argued, your voice rising slightly. “i just don’t see why you have to make it a big deal every time i don’t ask you for something. maybe i don’t want to depend on you for every little thing.”

“that’s not what this is about, and you know it,” he said, his voice low, like he was trying to keep his temper in check. “you’ve been different, and now you’re acting like this is all on me?”

“i just don’t want to talk about it, okay?” you’d said, your voice sharper than you intended.

“that’s all you ever say now,” he shot back, raking a hand through his hair. “you’ve been acting weird for weeks, and i’m just supposed to ignore it?”

“i’m fine, rafe,” you insisted, even though you weren’t. not even close.

he let out a humorless laugh, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “you know, for someone who talks as much as you, you sure don’t know how to open up when it matters.”

the words stung, more than you wanted to admit. you hated how he could get under your skin so easily, how he could take your worst fear—being too much and not enough at the same time—and throw it in your face without even realizing it.

“i’m going out,” you said abruptly, grabbing your purse and heading for the door.

“of course you are,” he muttered, not stopping you.

now, walking briskly through the cool, air-conditioned expanse of the shopping center, you tried to push the fight out of your mind. Retail therapy had always been your escape, and today was no different. the rhythmic click of your heels on the polished floor, the weight of designer bags in your hand—it was comforting, a distraction.

you turned into a high-end boutique, your favorite. the scent of expensive leather and vanilla greeted you, and you lost yourself in the rows of clothes, running your fingers over silky fabrics and embroidered details. you could almost forget the tightness in your chest, the ache that rafe’s words had left behind.

almost.

and then you saw her. sofia.

she was standing by the display of bags near the entrance, her back to you. she looked effortless as always, her hair falling in soft waves, her casual outfit perfectly understated. she was laughing softly at something the sales associate had said, the kind of laugh that seemed to echo in your mind even when she wasn’t there.

your heart twisted.

you thought about the fight with rafe, about how you’d stormed out without looking back. you thought about sofia, about how easy it was for her to exist in the same spaces you had to fight to belong in. and for a fleeting, bitter moment, you wondered if rafe would’ve preferred having her there instead of you.

she hadn’t seen you yet. you could walk over, say hi, pretend everything was fine like you always did. or you could keep going, let the distance grow a little wider.

you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder and turned on your heel, walking past the boutique’s floor-length windows without sparing her a glance.

your phone buzzed in your hand as you entered a store. a text from rafe.

r :3

we need to talk when you get home.

your stomach churned, but you didn’t reply. not yet. you couldn’t face him, not like this. not when you were still reeling from the fight and the sight of sofia, from the gnawing feeling that you didn’t know who you were mad at anymore—sofia, rafe, or yourself.

another buzz.

r :3

i sent you $100. get something you want.

a bitter laugh escaped your lips. was this his way of apologizing, or trying to prove a point?

you slipped your phone into your purse, plastering on a smile for the cashier as you handed over your credit card. this was your life, wasn’t it? smiling through it all, even when you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up.

‘ooh, bet you’re thinking she’s so cool

kickin’ back on your couch, making eyes from across the room

wait, i think i’ve been there too, ooh’

the steady hum of the air conditioning was the only sound in your room as you sat at the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. the screen lit up with a new message from sofia.

s<3

hey, i was thinking we should all hang out at tannyhill tonight. you, me, sarah—just a chill night. what do you think?

you bit your lip, hesitating. it had been a long day of avoiding rafe and thinking about him and sofia, about their chemistry that felt so effortless. you and sofia had been best friends for years, but lately, every time she invited you to hang out, it felt like something was missing, like the space between you two had grown wider.

but still… you couldn't shake the feeling that if you went, you’d just be putting on a show, pretending everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t. you didn’t even know what to say to her anymore, let alone to sarah. the thought of sitting around with them, pretending to have a good time, when your mind kept drifting back to the fight with rafe—it felt exhausting.

you typed out a response, your fingers heavy on the keys.

not tonight. don't feel good. rain check?

you stared at the message for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. rain check. you were avoiding them. you were avoiding everyone

you hit send.

the moment the message left your screen, you shoved your phone into the bedside drawer and laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. the silence was deafening, the emptiness of the room suffocating. you closed your eyes, but even in the dark, your mind couldn’t stop spinning.

you imagined rafe at tannyhill with sofia and sarah. maybe they were all hanging out by the pool, laughing at some stupid joke sofia made, her hand casually brushing against rafe’s as they both leaned in to listen to sarah’s gossip. maybe rafe had his arm around sofia’s shoulders, that easy smile of his lighting up his face.

maybe rafe didn’t even notice how he was looking at her. maybe sofia didn’t even know how much it bothered you. but in your mind, it didn’t matter. they were perfect for each other in a way that you didn’t think you could ever be.

a dull ache spread through your chest, and your mind kept playing out the scene—rafe leaning in, talking to sofia in that easy, intimate way that made you feel invisible, like you didn’t even exist in the same world.

the thought hit you hard, almost like a punch to the gut. you’d seen them before, seen that look in his eyes when he wasn’t thinking about it, when it was so effortless. you had been there too. you had been the one sitting on the outside, watching the two of them, wondering if it was just in your head or if rafe truly felt something for sofia.

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shake the images from your mind. but the more you tried to push them away, the clearer they became. you could almost hear the sound of their laughter echoing in the distance, and it felt like you were drowning in it, unable to catch your breath.

you didn’t know when it had become like this, when everything had started to feel like a competition you weren’t even aware you were part of.

you heard your phone buzz from inside the drawer, pulling you from your thoughts.

a from rafe.

r :3

where are you?

you stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the reply button. what could you even say? that you were imagining him and sofia at tannyhill, laughing without a care? that you were afraid of losing him to someone like her?

you didn’t reply. instead, you slid your phone back into the drawer, pulled the covers over your head, and tried to forget everything for a little while longer.

‘what’d she do to get you off? (uh-huh)

taking down her hair like, “Oh my God!”

taking off your shirt, i did that once, or twice, uh’

‘no, i know, i know, fuck off (off)

but i think i like her, she’s so fun

wait, i think i hate her, i’m not that evolved’

the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the beach as you sat down on the sand, the familiar saltwater breeze blowing through your hair. kiara plopped down beside you, her sneakers kicking up a cloud of sand as she settled in, her brow furrowed in that way she did when she knew something was off.

“okay, seriously, what’s going on with you and rafe?” she asked, her voice gentle but direct.

you sighed, dropping your gaze to the sand between your feet. “what do you mean?”

kiara’s eyes softened with concern. “i haven’t seen you two together in forever. and you’ve been off, too. something’s not right.”

you let out a breath, staring at the horizon. “i don’t know, Kie. it’s... complicated.”

kiara raised an eyebrow. “complicated? that’s the word you use after dating for what—how long? over two years now?”

“yeah, well, that’s the thing,” you muttered, biting your lip. “it’s just been—” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “i don’t know. lately, it feels like rafe doesn’t even notice me. like, i’m always there, but not really there, you know?”

kiara tilted her head, studying you with concern. “what do you mean, not really there? he’s not paying attention to you?”

oyu shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “no, it’s like... he’s distant. he’s always been this way with me, but recently, it feels like it’s worse. like he’s more into sofia, or just... not into me, i guess. we’ve been fighting a lot.”

kiara was quiet for a moment, looking out at the waves. “okay, so, this has to do with sofia, doesn’t it?”

you let out a dry laugh, your gaze falling to your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “yeah. yeah, it does.”

kie glanced at you sharply, her eyes narrowing. “you’ve always been close with sofia, right? she’s your best friend.”

“i know,” you replied, almost too quickly. “i love sofia, so much. she’s my best friend. i should be happy for her, right? but—” you stopped yourself, the words forming before you could stop them. “but, something i think... i just hate her, too.”

kiara’s eyes softened, and she reached across the table, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“you’re not crazy for feeling this way. but don’t let it eat you alive. don’t let it destroy your relationship. if rafe’s the one, you need to talk to him about it. you need to tell him how you’re feeling, because keeping it all inside isn’t doing anyone any favors, especially not you.”

you took a shaky breath, feeling like there was more you needed to say, but didn’t have the words for. kiara was right, of course. you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it was falling apart, but how could you explain the mess of emotions that tangled inside you? how could you put into words the way you felt about sofia—how much you loved her, and at the same time, how much you resented her for just being everything you weren’t?

“you’re right,” you finally muttered, still not fully convinced. “i just don’t know if i can handle it. what if i tell him and it just makes things worse?”

she gave you a knowing look. “you’ll never know until you try.”

you looked out over the horizon, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows over the ground. you didn’t have the answers, but one thing was clear: you couldn’t keep living in this limbo, hating the things you couldn’t change, and pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. you needed to figure it out, for your own sake.

“thanks, kie,” you whispered, leaning back in your chair, the weight of your emotions still heavy, but just a little bit lighter now that you’d said it out loud.

‘i’m sorry she’s missing it, sad, sad boy

not my business, but i had to warn ya’

‘ooh, bet you’re thinking she’s so cool

kickin’ back on your couch, making eyes from across the room

wait, i think i’ve been there too, ooh’

oh-ooh (ooh), you’ve got me thinking (got me) she’s so cool (ooh)

but i know what i know, and you’re just another dude

ooh, that’s so true, ooh’

you had barely finished talking with kiara when your phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back to the screen. it was sofia.

hey, i just wanted to check in. are you mad at me? i feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately…

you froze, your heart tightening. it had been a few days since you’d distanced yourself from her, but you hadn’t meant to make her feel that way. your fingers hovered over the screen, unsure of what to say. you didn’t want to hurt sofia, but you didn’t know how to explain the mess inside your head.

after a few moments, you typed out a response, trying to keep it as light as possible.

i’m not mad at you, sof. just been dealing with some stuff. it’s not about you.

you hit send, watching the little bubbles appear as she started typing. but just before her reply came through, another text popped up. rafe.

hey, i just want to clear something up. sofia’s crying in Sarah’s room. she’s upset about something you said.

your stomach churned. you quickly opened the message.

i don’t know what exactly, but you’re wrong about what you said. she hasn’t done anything to you, and i think you need to talk to her. this is getting out of hand.

you sat there, staring at the message, feeling a mixture of guilt and confusion. what did rafe mean by that? what had you said that upset sofia? your mind raced, trying to piece things together, but all you could think about was the way he’d worded it—like you were the one who was in the wrong, like your feelings didn’t matter.

the weight of the words hung in the air, pressing down on you as you tried to make sense of everything.

sofia’s upset? you thought, feeling a pang of guilt wash over you. it wasn’t your intention to hurt her, not at all. but you couldn’t deny the feelings of frustration and jealousy that had been building up. you had felt pushed to the side, like you were being replaced by someone who was just… so much easier, so much cooler than you ever seemed to be.

why does she get everything so effortlessly? you wondered bitterly, remembering the way she seemed to shine so naturally in rafe’s world, her presence so casual, so unaffected. it only made your insecurities grow, but now it felt like you were the one in the wrong.

the next message from sofia finally came through.

i just don’t want to lose you as a friend. if something’s going on, i want to talk about it.

your heart dropped as you read it. you could feel the sincerity in her words, but also the pain. you couldn’t stand the thought of her being upset, especially when it was your fault. you’d always loved sofia, but this weird, twisted feeling you had—of hating her and wanting to be like her at the same time—wasn’t something you had ever known how to deal with.

a deep breath.

you thought about rafe’s message. about how he’d said you were wrong. he was always so quick to take sofia’s side, so quick to defend her, like you were the one in the wrong, even when you were just… trying to figure everything out.

you typed slowly, your fingers reluctant, still caught in the confusion.

i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you upset. i guess i’ve just been feeling a little off lately. things with rafe aren’t exactly… great right now.

you paused, rereading the words before hitting send, feeling vulnerable in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

not even a minute later, rafe’s name appeared on your screen again. this time, the message was short and to the point.

you need to talk to her, y/n. you’re blowing this out of proportion. just let it go and fix this shit.

the sting of his words hit harder than you expected. you clenched your jaw, resisting the urge to reply with something sharp. it wasn’t that you wanted to push him away—it was that you had no idea how to make him understand how this all made you feel.

you were getting lost in the frustration, in the feeling that no one really saw you, no one really understood where you were coming from.

but you knew you had to do something.

i’ll talk to her, you replied, the words feeling hollow. you didn’t know what you could say that would make everything right, but you knew you had to try.

you sat back against your pillow, staring at the screen, your mind racing. you thought about rafe, about sofia, about everything.

but you couldn’t let that be the end of it. not yet. you had to try. you had to fix it.

‘made it out alive, but i think i lost it.

said that i was fine, said it from the coffin.

remember how i died when you started walkin’?

that’s my life, that’s my life.’

the air was thick with tension as you stood in the living room with sofia and rafe, both of them waiting for you to say something, anything, that would explain the silence that had been hanging between you all for the past few days.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you had been holding inside. “i just, need to talk,” you said, your voice quieter than you’d intended, but it was enough to make them both focus on you.

sofia was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, looking at you with a mix of confusion and concern. rafe was leaning against the wall, arms folded too, his usual laid-back demeanor slightly tense.

“i know i’ve been distant lately, and i’ve been avoiding both of you, but it’s because of how i’ve been feeling… and i need you both to know that this is about me, not you.”

sofia raised an eyebrow, glancing at rafe before turning back to you. “what do you mean?”

you took a deep breath, the words feeling heavy as you let them spill out. “i’ve been feeling... insecure. i know it’s stupid, but when i see the way you two get along, it just—it gets to me. you and rafe, you make everything look so easy. and i feel like i have to work so much harder, just to keep his attention, just to feel like I’m enough.”

there was a long, heavy pause. rafe finally spoke, his voice gentle, his expression softening. “you’re wrong, though. i’m with you because i want to be with you. sofia and i are friends, nothing more. but you're the one i want.” he stepped forward, looking at you with a sincerity you hadn’t seen in a while. “i shouldn’t have let you feel that way. i’m sorry.”

sofia looked at you with wide, understanding eyes, her lips turning into a soft smile. “look, n/n, it took me forever to even get to a point where i could be okay with hanging out with him. no offense to you, rafe, but i didn’t want to mess things up for you because i didn't like him. i didn’t want you to think i was trying to steal him away from you. i thought if i could just get along with him, that it would make you feel better .i did it for you, because i thought that’s what you needed.”

your eyes softened, and you took a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of the situation lifting just a little. “i didn’t know that,” you whispered. “i thought... i thought maybe you two were just, i don’t know, better together. you’re both so effortless, and i feel like i’m always trying too hard to be perfect.”

sofia’s face softened as she stood up, walking over to you and pulling you into a tight hug. “you don’t need to be perfect. you’re perfect just the way you are.” she pulled back slightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i don’t want you to ever think i’m a threat to you, okay? you’re my best friend, and nothing is going to change that.”

rafe, who had been watching quietly, took a deep breath, stepping forward to join you both. he reached out, pulling you into a hug as well, his voice low but sincere. “and i’m not going anywhere, babe. you’re the one for me. i’m not interested in anyone else, and i should’ve made that clearer before.”

oyu closed your eyes for a moment, feeling a rush of relief, a weight finally lifting off your shoulders. “i’m sorry, both of you,” you whispered. “i should’ve talked about this sooner instead of letting it fester.”

sofia laughed softly, wiping a tear from her cheek. “we’re good, okay? we’re all good now.”

you pulled back from her, still feeling the relief in your chest. “we’re good,” you echoed, smiling at her through your own tears.

there was a long moment of silence, and then rafe cleared his throat, awkwardly stepping back. “okay, okay, this is getting a little too emotional for me,” he said with a half-smile, trying to break the tension. “can we get back to the part where we all pretend we don’t have feelings?”

you both chuckled, wiping at your eyes and trying to stifle your laughter. you grinned at him. “aw, come on, don’t be so awkward about it. you’re so cute when you’re uncomfortable.”

“yeah, yeah, alright,” rafe muttered, looking between the two of you. “but seriously, if you two are done crying, y/n, i think you should get those nails done. they’re looking a little... tacky.” he smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

you rolled your eyes playfully, looking down at your nails. “i know, right? they’ve been a disaster for weeks.”

sofia laughed, nodding. “let’s go get your nails done. it’ll be a perfect excuse to hang out together, and you can stop obsessing over whatever weird thoughts you’ve been having.”

you turned to rafe, your smile growing wider. “you know what? you’re right. they’re awful.” you made a dramatic gesture at your nails. “i need a new look.”

rafe smirked, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “i’ll pay for it,” he said casually, glancing at the wall. “go on, get whatever you want. i don’t care.”

you stared at him in surprise. “really?”

he shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “yeah, why not? you deserve it. and i’ll do whatever makes you happy, okay?”

sofia looked at you, her grin widening. “see? even rafe knows you deserve a little treat.”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “alright, fine. let’s go. but only because i need a distraction from all the feelings today.”

the three of you made your way to the door, but before you stepped out, you turned to sofia, pulling her into another hug. “thank you,” you whispered. “for everything.”

she squeezed you tight. “always. now, let’s get you those nails, and then i want to hear about everything.”

as you all walked out the door together, rafe following behind you, you couldn’t help but feel lighter, like a weight had finally been lifted. things weren’t perfect, but they were real. and for the first time in a while, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

“alright, alright,” rafe said, his voice teasing as he slapped his hands together. “let’s get this nail thing over with. and don’t get any too crazy designs.”

you laughed, leaning into sofia as you all walked down the street.

“promise,” you said, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was exactly where it needed to be.

‘i’ll put up a fight, taking out my earrings

don’t you know the vibe?

don’t you know the feeling?

‘you should spend the night,

catch me on your ceiling

that’s your prize, that’s your prize’

‘oh-ooh (ooh), you’ve got me thinking (got me) she’s so cool

but i know what i know, and you’re just another dude,

ooh, that’s so true, ooh, ooh, uh’

[kflixnet]

[MDNI] Check out our member Ally's fic!!

A New Beginning With You | Lee Juyeon

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

PAIRING: ceo!Juyeon x f!reader

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

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

WORD COUNT: 15,466

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

Seven years ago 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” 

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

Or that was what you thought. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoffed. “Bullshit.” 

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

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

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

“What exactly happened to you, Juyeon?”

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

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Present Day 

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

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

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

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

“Please, it really is nothing—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it was from the CEO. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m going home now, sis.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Juyeon…?” 

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

“Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

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

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

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

If only it were easier said than done. 

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

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

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

“Y/N…I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait, what? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, god. It’s here. 

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

“Y-Yes, may I help you, Mr Lee?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, he called you by your name. 

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

“Umm…with due respect Mr Lee—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Go on.” 

Goddammit, Y/N. 

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

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

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

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

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

“You left me behind, Juyeon.” 

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

So that was what happened.

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

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

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

“W-Where are they now, then?” 

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

“Then, why did you come back here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was until today. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened when you saw what it was. 

“J-Juyeon…this…”

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

He remembered. 

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

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

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

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

“You must be joking.” 

“Mark my words, Y/N.” 

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

“Thank you, Juyeon.” 

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

You smiled. “With pleasure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I don’t wanna~” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, good fucking hell.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Jesus take the wheel. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Juyeon, the office is the other way—”

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

What on earth is going through your mind, Juyeon?

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

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

Wait, scratch that last one—

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

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

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

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

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

And it has to be now. 

“Juyeon, can I ask you something?” 

He hummed. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, I—”

“Ah! It’s Juyeon-ie!” 

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

Who could it be? 

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

“You must be?” 

“O-Oh, I umm—”

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

Just a neighbour, huh? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N! Wait, I’ll drive you back—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It has nothing to do with me. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr Lee? Is something the matter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Keyword. “Were” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me go! Let me go—”

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

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

“Y/N, no. You don’t understand—”

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

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

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

God, cat’s out of the bag. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is my final goodbye, Juyeon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll take up the offer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Juyeon…” your voice muffled. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Prove it then.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Ugh, that’s so foul of you!” 

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

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

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

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

“It’s not what you think it is.” 

“It’s not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, sweetheart.” 

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

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

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

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

“Here’s to a new beginning with you.”

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