#you need to but up with these three which is.... a lot!

[hellenhighwater]

How did you get pet doves? And are they easy to take care of / what do you need to keep them happy and well?

They are, IMO, the easiest birds to care for. I got them as rescues--I used to regularly volunteer at an avian wildlife rehab that would sometimes wind up with pet birds that needed rescuing. (Arson's originally from an animal hoarding situation, so I have no idea how old she is.) They are, specifically, ringneck (also called barbary) doves, which are a domesticated species. They do look a lot like their wild counterparts, but they've been living alongside humans for thousands of years, which makes them far happier in captivity than most 'pet' birds, like parrots. If you're really looking for some, they often wind up needing adoption because a single mated pair produces offspring very, very quickly without human intervention.

Ringnecks are granivores, so their diet is just pigeon-mix birdseed, a bit of oyster shell grit (mine have been going through the same 15 lb bag of grit from the feed store for five years now) and water. Sometimes they'll take a bit of fresh greens or bugs when they come across them, but it's not a necessary part of their diet. Like pigeons, they have weak beaks and feet, so they're not destructive to furniture and supplies. Unlike pigeons, ringnecks are not super social--they mate monogamously and for life, and will get territorial with other ringnecks. As a consequence, Arson and Larceny, as a mated pair, are very happy with little effort on my part. They need enough room to fly and nest and they're quite content to keep each other occupied. A single ringneck may bond with their human caretaker as their human 'mate' and will be a lot more social as a result. I chose to have a mated pair because I'm super busy, and I like knowing that their social needs are fulfilled even when I'm short on free time. Like the cats, I can set them up with a deep bowl of food and a big container of fresh water and safely leave them alone for a weekend.

In terms of space, they need a relatively large cage--three feet in each direction is the minimum, and they enjoy more room when possible. They're very docile--I can just grab em off the branch like ripe pears--and their vocalizations are generally pleasant, in the same vocal range as a mourning dove, though their songs are different. They can be trained to do simple tricks and generally are enjoyable to be around.

Their lifespans range quite a bit! The oldest one I've ever met was 32. Arson and Larceny hold title as the oldest pets I have (they're eight, at least) and still going strong. Twelve years is pretty average for them.

I do think they're great pets, and if you want a bird, they're a fantastic choice.

[eddiemunchem]

hiii!! i love your work so much and i was wondering about a little idea i haddd that ik you’d do justice (if you’re taking requests, if not then totally ignore this ☝🏽).

soo, i was thinking about dom!eddie getting pussy drunk? like he’s his regular babbling self, but when he starts getting close he loses it and starts begging A LOT to cum inside.

if you do decide to do this, thank you sm, i appreciate you and your work and i hope you have a lovely day <333.

━━━━━━━━ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ━━━━━━━━

📄 turned tables | eddie’s a dom through and through, but there’s something about coming in your pretty pussy that just reduces him to a complete mess.

⚠️ 1.1k words, fem!sub!reader, mean/hard!dom!eddie (srsly… pls heed this one), HEAVY d/s themes, rough sex, bondage/restraint, overstimulation, mean!eddie, m!dom to slight!m!sub, begging, whimpering, slight degradation, big dick!eddie, multiple orgasms, breeding/creampie, unprotected p in v, allusions to subspace, language, dirty talk, graphic depictions of male ejaculation (wtf is that tag), praise, i think i got everything

✏️ when i say the sub inside me QUIVERED while writing this… please fckin believe me 💀 also, i’m really not the best at articulating m!subs so i’m really sorry if that part isn’t the best 🙏

“oh, baby, look at those tears.” eddie cooed, large hands cradling your cheeks as his hips brutally slapped into yours.

you couldn’t speak, could only moan and whimper and whine as he used you, tears cooling against your temples as you just laid there taking it.

“hear how sloppy your lil’ pussy is? oooooh, she’s so greedy tonight, isn’t she?” eddie teased, thumbs swiping across your cheeks and lips pulled into that devilish grin. “think she wants my cum, angel?”

it was starting to border on too much — you were completely helpless as he ravaged you, hands bound to the bed posts by his pair of sterling handcuffs, the strain on your wrists less pleasant and more painful now. eddie had told you to count each orgasm he ripped from you, but your fuddled brain couldn’t make out whether this impending climax was your third or fourth.

“fuck, pretty girl. you’re clampin’ down on me; gon’a cum, yeah?”

you nodded fervently, hoping the action would be enough to satisfy eddie’s hunger for control — but it didn’t.

the gentle cradle of his hands turned to a firm grip, blunt nails biting into the skin along your jaws.

“use your fuckin’ words, angel. i know i’ve told you this before.” eddie growled, hips picking up speed and fucking into your sopping cunt with a punishing force.

the wail that ripped from your throat pulled a satisfied groan from eddie, who’s hips faltered for just a brief moment — but it was enough of a tell for you to know he was approaching his end, too.

fucking finally.

“yes, yes, i’m gon’a c-cum!” you blathered, fresh tears pooling in your eyes as eddie battered your cervix straight into your stomach. it was so painful, with no care to the impact on your body — the way eddie knew you needed it.

“mmhmm, yeah? how many, angel? which one is this?” eddie pressed, clearly referring to the amount of orgasms you’d been wrecked with and — shit, was it three? or was it four?

“i’m waiting, sweetheart.” eddie trilled, hips never stilling, driving into you with the force of a damn bull. it was sapping every bit of your strength, fogging your mind over with a haze of pain and pleasure so intense that you could hardly even mentally navigate through it.

“f-four!” you spilled out, lips, hips, legs and feet trembling — your stomach was so tight now, so painfully tight; you were going to die.

“oh… angel.” eddie whispered, tone saturated with what you could faintly decipher as disappointment. just two words were enough to have your stomach twisting in fearful knots, pussy quivering around the cock brutalizing it.

“maybe i’m fucking you too stupid… this is your third, sweet girl.”

the sound you released was downright pitiful — not quite a moan, not quite a whimper, but something in between. you’d gotten it wrong.

you’d answered his question wrong.

“‘m sorry!” you cried, hands pulling against the restraints. “‘m so sorry!”

that’s all you could do now — apologize and beg for his forgiveness, for even the slightest bit of clemency.

eddie hummed low in his throat, but the noise seemed strangled. his hips stuttered once more and his cock kicked against your walls — and it dawned on you that he was a lot closer than you initially thought.

“i’ll let it slide this once, angel.” eddie whisped, breathlessly. “but in return, y’gotta cum f’me. gotta get this cunt nice and sloppy f’me, ‘kay?”

you hadn’t expected to receive clemency so easily — but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“yes, yes, thank you…” you babbled, head so pleasantly fuzzy and muscles weak with relief.

eddie groaned deep in his throat and whipped his right hand away from your face — you were almost completely unprepared for it when he planted his fingers over your clit and rubbed harshly, the slide aided by the creamy mess between your bodies.

“fuck! too much—” you cried out, back arching straight off of the mattress. it was all hot lightning, shooting all through your body and electrifying your muscles.

“it’s not — it’s not. just fuckin’ cum, already.” eddie demanded, though it slipped into something a bit needier at the end — as if he were begging for you to do so.

your ability to speak was robbed by the intense pain coursing through your body — there was pleasure there, of course, but between eddie’s cock bullying your cervix and his fingers abusing your swollen clit, there was very little chance for it to shine.

the orgasm building inside your gut wasn’t one of pleasure — rather, one that was being forced from your tired body, completely drawn through by your anatomical structure; you were built to orgasm after a certain amount of stimulation, and you’d do so even if it hurt.

“eddie, i-i’ll die!” you wailed, body quaking, nerves fraying — and all at once it stopped, eddie’s fingers disappeared from your clit and he was no longer hovering above you pounding you senseless. on the contrary, he was no longer fucking into your cervix with savage accuracy.

“fuck, it’s so good!” eddie groaned, hips bucking wildly. “so fuckin’ sloppy and warm — bes’ fuckin’ pussy — mmmm, yeah — shit!”

eddie had seemed to of completely forgotten about your orgasm — he was chasing after his own now, high off of your pussy, drunk on the sensations around his cock. you’d never heard him sound so… whiny, or needy before.

“god, please, please. let me c-cum in’ya, angel. le’me fill’ya up.” eddie slurred, voice thick yet airy, hips slamming into you without any real rhythm.

“you feel so good, i jus’ — jus’ wanna breed you. wan’a stuff you. can i?” eddie wasn’t even really giving you a chance to respond, more words and vulgarities tumbling from his lips like a waterfall.

“yeah, you’re gon’a le’me fill you up. fuck, fuck, yer so good, losin’ my fuckin’ mind—”

eddie was completely scrambled, eyebrows knit tightly together and eyes glazed over — he looked so fucked out, so crazed, that it left you starstruck.

“mmm — god, baby, yes, i’m-i’m coming!” eddie whined, slamming deep into your pussy once, then twice — and then he was spilling inside you, cock twitching and throbbing with every single shallow pump of his hips.

as always, his cum was thick, shooting out of his cock with such a velocity that you could faintly feel the way it splattered against your cervix — and the whole time, as your pussy milked him, eddie whimpered against your ribcage, body practically folded in half over yours as he rode his orgasm out in short, slow thrusts.

it took you a few moments to register what had actually just happened — and when it dawned you, you didn’t really know what to think about it. it was an idea that was just far too outlandish to consider, had you not witnessed what you had.

eddie may have the propensity to be a switch.

[ifightformyfriends]

I took calls for Covered California for all of 2023 and it is capable of helping SO much, however, so many bad outcomes from it came from misunderstanding one simple thing.

The ACA gives you your tax break in advance, you are essentially borrowing from yourself once you file taxes. When it asks you for tax information, it is asking what, to the best of your ability, your year of coverage taxes will look like. So, for 2025, you need to fill it out with what you expect the taxes you file in 2026, for 2025, to look like. If you make mistakes and do not correct them, that is when you can get hit with having to repay what you were given because you were borrowing from your future self and then didn't get that money.

Income changes are a big one that caused issues, but other big ones included not reporting spouses or kids because they didn't need coverage. They are on your taxes, they need to be included to know how much money you can borrow from your future self. Also, if you are offered coverage from your job, or your spouses, and it is considered Affordable (which has a legal definition) and meets legal minimums, you cannot get financial assistance. Same for if you file taxes alone while married. Automatically have to pay back everything for those.

That's it for warnings, now for some ADVICE.

BRONZE plans are shit. They cover basically nothing. Three basic checkups a year, and after that they are basically a safety net for catastrophes ONLY.

If you are low income, SILVER is usually the way to go. Certain income ranges qualify for ENHANCED SILVER which means more coverage and less cost. Silver 84 has coverage greater than Gold and Silver 94 is better than Platinum. If you have access to those PLEASE take them.

Deductible is what you have to pay in the year before the insurance "kicks in" and starts paying for things. Lot of people did not know that.

I am a random person on tumblr, I can answer asks to the best of my ability, but if you want more information look for a Certified Enrollment Counselor. NOT an Agent. CECs are members of Covered California that are incentivized to HELP. Agents are third party licensed "with" Covered California and get a portion of your Premium as kickback. A lot of Agents would fuck up information on the application to get lower costs for people that they'd have to pay back where the Agent just gets free money out of it. Some are decent and care, but they were rare from the perspective of someone being called when there were problems.

I know that's a lot to take in but so many heartbreaking calls were due to a lack of understanding the system. If you know what they're asking for and what things are, it's an incredibly useful system! But very few people have that.

Banging on the walls chanting "OPEN ENROLLMENT FOR ACA THRU JAN 15" like some deranged town crier. Election results aside, you have options to access healthcare as a RIGHT through the ACA. NO one can dismantle the Affordable Care Act in less than 4 years, so SIGN UP! GET YOUR CARE! USE THE SYSTEM!

You have options RIGHT NOW that will be stable thru the next year, the one after that, and I'd be shocked to see them shrink even the year after that. That means RIGHT NOW you can get signed up for next year to gain 100% covered preventative care (your annual check ups, pap smears, dental cleaning, vision check). You have the option to get checked and screened as you need, do NOT be dissuaded from exploring ACA choices. They are SOLID, LEGISLATED, and WORK BEST WHEN PEOPLE USE THEM.

I can't change most things around me, BUT I CAN tell everyone I know that THEY CAN GET LIFE SAVING CARE. THEY CAN GET PRESCRIPTIONS. THEY CAN GET PREGNANCY CARE. THEY CAN GET CANCER CARE. AND THEY WILL GET THAT CARE!!!!!!

SIGN UP BY DECEMBER 15, 2024 FOR COVERAGE TO BEGIN ON JANUARY 1, 2025. ENROLLMENT AFTER 12/15/24 WILL HAVE COVERAGE BEGINNING FEBRUARY 1, 2025.

[kaleidohscopic]

TRY AGAIN — JJH

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

You should’ve brought an umbrella. 

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

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

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

You suppressed a smile. Ever the drama queen.

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

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

“Yippee. How exciting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However, Joy was a meddler.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joy certainly knew how to pick a spot.

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

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

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

And froze.

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

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

This was not happening.

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

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

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

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

Chair legs screeched abruptly against the floor. 

“Wait,” he pleaded. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you plan this?”

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

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

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

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

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

Seoul and its fucking summer monsoon season.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, this was fucking awkward.

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

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

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

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

You were curt. “No.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A time rather distant from now.

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

Three seconds passed in silence. 

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

“Sorry, that was—” Unnecessary? Mean? 

True? 

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

Or maybe you had. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please, let’s not talk about that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to try mine?”

Sneakiness had never been your forte.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And second, Jaehyun had footed the whole bill.

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

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

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

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

“You should have told me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can what?”

This was new information.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Speaking of this morning…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My coffee,” you lamented under your breath.

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

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

“Who did?”

“The guy at the front.” 

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

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

“Jaehyun?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopefully the kitchen staff would restock those capsules by tomorrow.

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

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

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

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

“Are you still in the line?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your cardigan,” he said.

“Huh?”

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

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

“You do?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me pay you back for dinner.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gave him a careful look. 

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

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

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

“Do you want my number?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So that’s a no to the coffee?”

“I don’t trust you anymore, so no.”

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

And frowned.

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

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

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

Jaehyun had given you his coffee instead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anyways, I think he left you something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s Jaehyun.” 

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

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

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

“Do you have plans later today?”

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

“Why, what’s up?” you asked instead.

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

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

“Come with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughed. “So is that a yes?”

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

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

Jaehyun in casual clothes outside the office was uncharted territory. 

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

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

“Different good or different bad?”

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

“So do you,” you replied. 

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

“Did you taxi?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The steadying hand around your shoulder was instantaneous. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? I don’t remember that.”

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

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

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

Or so you thought.

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

“What do you like about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The feeling of coming home.

The shutter clicked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you say? Want to join us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, what?” 

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

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

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

“That’s not what I—I didn’t know—”

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t leave you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Walking down an empty street.”

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

Was the stage in the shot? Was Lauv? 

Were you?

“Puddles underneath our feet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Any drivers around?” Jaehyun asked.

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

“How about the bus?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you said.

His head shot back up. “Okay?”

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

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

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

You said a silent apology to the building cleaners. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Myself.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You exchanged a glance.

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

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

“Are we having ramen?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoffed to yourself. As if.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it really that bad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And funnier,” he added.

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, I’m being serious!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re her only daughter.”

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

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

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

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

“You’ve got something…”  Jaehyun murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How embarrassing.

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

“Will you stop messing with that thing?”

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

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

“You’re so pedantic.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up.”

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

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

“Yes, of course. Apartment 814.”

“Maybe you should let me try.”

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

“Hello?” 

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

“Yes,” you and Jungwoo answered in unison. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You expertly dodged the elbow he jabbed into your side.

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

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

There was a 77% chance she was drunk already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And her relation to Junmyeon is…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You two are ridiculous,” Joy scoffed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Justin Timberlake is not a verb.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few seconds passed before either of you spoke again.

“Were you really upset to see me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too,” he said softly.

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

Curiosity tickled your mind. “What about you?”

“Hmm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

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

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

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

Joy’s timing was impeccable, as always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm,” was his eloquent reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmffh.” 

Another brilliant and enlightening response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still not a real word.”

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

“You’ve been crazy busy lately.”

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

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

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

Your footsteps faltered. 

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

He nodded. 

“When?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

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

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

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

“But I have to,” he agreed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had unknowingly gotten in the way of that once.

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” he asked.

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

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

To the pretty colour of his soft, full lips. 

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

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

What difference did it make?

It was hard to tell who moved first. You’d like to believe it didn’t matter.

The rhythm of your lips against his was unfamiliar at first, clumsy from years of disuse. Through slow and careful movements, you reacquainted yourself with the shape of Jaehyun’s mouth, the pillowy swell of his bottom lip as it gently slid in between your own. It fit there perfectly, like it always did. His hands came up to graze the curve of your waist, resting lightly on your skin as if he was afraid you’d crumble like sand in his grasp. 

You tilted your head, parting your mouth ever so slightly to let the tip of your tongue brush against the underside of his top lip. The kiss changed immediately. You felt his surprise in the small puff of air that escaped through his nose and landed softly against your cheek. His fingers gripped at you with a newfound strength, pulling you flush against him. Even through the fabric of your shirts, the outline of his toned chest was unmistakable. Your hands found their home in the softness of hair at the nape of his neck, revelling in the throaty sound that left him as you ran your hands through it. 

How had you denied yourself of this for so long?

Jaehyun must have pulled away first, because suddenly you could breathe again, shaky gasps coming in and out through your mouth. He fared no better, pressing his forehead gently against yours while he tried to catch his breath.

You couldn’t think. You felt electrified, as if every nerve ending in your body was simultaneously firing, as if your blood was laced with dynamite. Hell, you had half a mind to invite him up to your room and finish off what you had so brazenly started.

“It’s late,” he finally managed, voice rough. “You should head in.” His hands, however, stayed firmly in place around your waist. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with each swallow.

Right. Perhaps it was best to let the night end here, before you could do anything else that you might regret. 

“Yeah, I should probably,” you murmured, catching the way his eyes followed each movement of your mouth as you spoke. The sound of your voice seemed to break the daze he was in, and you felt his grip on you loosen, slowly and reluctantly. The arms you had looped around his neck made their way back to your sides. You were released from his warmth far too quickly.

Impulsive decisions (like inviting your ex-boyfriend to spend the night in your one-bedroom apartment with nowhere to sleep except in your bed) seldom ended well. You should’ve known better than to make those rookie mistakes.

You had barely turned around to walk up to your building doors when Jaehyun wrapped a warm hand around your wrist and pulled you back into him. He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing the small noise of surprise that left your mouth. This time, his kiss was softer, surer, and in it you tasted the sweetness of unspoken promises he was determined to keep. 

“I’ll see you when I get back,” he said, dark eyes fixed on you with conviction. Your lip colour had smudged by the side of his mouth, leaving behind a faint pink stain that only added to the pretty hue of his now kiss-swollen lips. 

He was still the most gorgeous person you had ever seen. 

“See you when you’re back, then,” you echoed. 

Some odd emotion, neither happy nor sad, settled in your chest as you pushed open the door to the emptiness of your home. You had rushed to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun before he left, only to find he had gone already, and the sidewalk outside your building was as vacant as to be expected for this hour of the night.

No matter. You’d wait for him to come back. 

“One more prosecco before he disappears to the bathroom for the rest of the night.”

You cast a glance at the catering table and clicked your tongue against your teeth.

“Half a prosecco,” you concluded, taking a sip from your own glass. 

Joy raised a shapely eyebrow at you. “You know it doesn’t hit until at least twenty minutes after he gets the munchies.”

“True, but he specifically told me he skipped lunch today so it would hit earlier, and he’d have the energy to mingle.”

“Well,” she shrugged, “I guess that’d do it.”

The two of you turned your gazes back to the catering table, where Jungwoo was doing some serious damage to the salmon ceviche tostadas. The glass in his hand was empty, and you watched as he asked for a refill from one of the waitstaff.

“Someone should really stop him,” Joy sighed. “Before we get a repeat of last year.”

“Someone should,” you agreed.

Neither of you made a move.

As far as year-end wrap-up events went, this one wasn’t too bad, even if it was your first at the company. This year, HR had managed to book one of the smaller function rooms at an upscale hotel, with an open bar and hors d’oeuvres menu to match. It was a nice chance to celebrate the year’s achievements, and get to know the other people in the department a little better. Already a year in this place, and you’d be lying if you said you knew the name of every person on your floor.

September to November had flown by in a blur. Recruitment for the company’s graduate program next year had been an intensive few months of screening, interviewing, reviewing, and then interviewing again. As hectic as it had been, the fruits of your team’s efforts had been warmly recognised with smiles and praises from the senior managers and higher-ups you’d had the chance to speak with tonight. 

Traditionally, each department hosted their own event, though from what you gathered, HR and Marketing were the only ones that put in any real effort. While HR liked to keep things classy, Marketing liked to go all out.

“Do you think it’s true that Marketing rented out a yacht this year?” you asked. Surely their budget wasn’t that excessive.

Joy made a face. “God, I hope not. It’s the middle of December. I’d be surprised if the Han River wasn’t all frozen over.”

Winter had come early this year, sinking its cold fingers into November and staking its claim. Yet, there had been no snow, even though it was only a few days out from the holidays. Though it was nice that your clothes stayed relatively dry all day from the lack of precipitation, you couldn’t help but miss the sight of the city covered in a blanket of white softness. 

“There he goes,” Joy said, nudging your arm. You turned to see Jungwoo excuse himself from the conversation, setting down a barely-touched glass on the tablecloth. He made a beeline for the men’s restrooms, or as close to a beeline as he could manage in his current state, face flushed and a little queasy.

It was a good thing the company’s holiday closure started tomorrow.

“Okay, you win. Want to come and get a refill with me?” she asked. “We can say hi to a few of the directors over there.”

The thought of having to network with more seniors, when you had already spent the last hour and a half donning bright smiles and laughing politely at their lacklustre jokes, was not a pleasant one. You knew it would be a good thing for you to go and introduce yourself, but your battery for social interaction had long since been depleted. Perhaps you should’ve taken a page out of Jungwoo’s book.

Still, you flashed Joy a grateful smile. “You go ahead. I might grab some air, actually.”

“Okay,” she replied, eyes warm with understanding. “But make sure you put your coat on. It’s freezing out there.”

She was right, of course. The toasty interior of the function room was a completely different world from the frigid gust of wind that greeted you as soon as you pulled the sliding door open. An upscale hotel needed to have a matching upscale view of the city. You leaned against the balcony railing, blocking out the icy sting of the metal against your hands, and took in the sight of the not-quite-frozen Han River below, and the sparkling Seoul Tower further away on the skyline.

You’d only be out here for a little bit, you told yourself. Just a few minutes, and then you’d head home.

Truthfully, you could have left half an hour ago when your reserves for socialising had just run out, and be within the warm and familiar confines of your own bed right now, doom-scrolling to your heart’s content. But these days, the solitude of your apartment that you had once found comforting had evolved into a loneliness that you’d rather avoid. 

The empty echoes of your own footsteps across the tiled floors didn’t bounce against the walls like deep laughter did.

Absent-mindedly, you thumbed at the pendant sitting at the hollow of your throat. You had turned your jewellery box inside out, almost fully convinced that you had lost the thing entirely until you finally spotted the milky pearl set in white gold, underneath all the other chains. It was gorgeous when you had first opened the velvet box all those years ago, and it still was now, even if you hadn’t seen it for quite some time. Jaehyun always had an eye for beautiful things.

You weren’t the only one who endured a few packed and chaotic months. Johnny’s team had flown out of the country the Wednesday after Joy’s birthday and had been sequestered in New York ever since. Between your swamped schedules and the 14 hour time difference, conversations with Jaehyun were intermittent at best, and sparse and uncoordinated at worst. Sometimes he’d message with silly little things, like the time he sent you a picture of a doll sitting in the window of an antique shop.

this reminded me of you, the accompanying text had said.

He was due back soon, and there was still much left to be said, but above all, you only hoped that he was well, and that the New York winter was much more forgiving than it was here at home.

The cloudy wisps of air formed by your breath floated upwards before they dissipated into the night sky. No wonder the balcony was empty — who would want to be out here when there were mozzarella stuffed mushrooms and central heating on the other side of the glass?

You heard the doors slide open behind you as someone else equally as crazy decided to step out into the cold. Just as well. It was time for you to head back anyways. You turned to make your way inside, only to freeze in your tracks.

“They told me I’d find you out here. You really know how to pick a spot, huh?”

A soft gasp left your mouth.

“Jaehyun?”

He gave you a smile, your favourite smile, where his dimples were only just visible, and there was the hint of a pout to the shape of his lips. He was here, and he was in front of you, looking at you like you were the most wonderful thing in the world that he would ever have the good fortune of knowing. Your chest swelled almost painfully at the sight of him.

“When did you get back? How did you even get in here?”

“We landed in Incheon earlier this afternoon. I had to pay the door guy outside a hundred bucks for him to let me in.”

Your eyes widened. “He can’t make you do that!”

“Just kidding,” Jaehyun chuckled. “I only had to show him my company ID.”

He walked over to where you stood by the railing and rested his arms against the metal. His profile was sharp against the darkness of the night sky, and you took a moment to study the details while he took in the view. 

“Are you tired?” you asked. “It can’t be easy adjusting to the time difference.”

“A little,” he admitted. The bags under his eyes were dark and purple now that you could see his face up close. He must have been exhausted. Nobody ever slept well on long haul flights. “You should see Johnny though. He would have come tonight, but jet lag is seriously kicking his ass.”

You shared a laugh, traces of your breaths mingling in the air. Beside him, you settled back into your original spot, mirroring the way he leaned against the metal railing. Jaehyun was close, but not too close, your elbows only a few centimetres apart. A mellow silence settled over the balcony as you gazed out at the river, watching the never-ending stream of cars as they circled the waterfront. 

With even this, you were content. His mere presence next to you was a remedy in itself, regardless of the words shared or touches exchanged. You felt more at home in this moment now than you had in over 3 months.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, still gazing out into the distance. The gravity in his voice hinted at circumstances beyond the recent season he had spent on the other side of the world. And yet, he had said it so simply, as if the words were an immovable truth that would withstand the corrosion of time.

“I’ve missed you too,” you replied.

Maybe it was just that simple, because it was the truth. The nights weathered away in your own apartment were only lonely because there had been an absence of him, an absence that was known to you, even if you had not felt it for many years.

He turned to you, taking in a shaky breath. “I should never have let you go.”

“Oh, Jaehyun—”

“I was young, and foolish, and I thought I knew what I wanted. And I had you, but I thought I wanted more, because I wanted everything. I wanted the whole damn world.”

Something sharp pricked behind your eyes as you listened to the honesty pouring out of him.

“And then I lost you, and it was—god, it was… like someone had sucked all the colour out of my life. And I had no one to blame, because I was the one who did that to myself. To us.”

It was so hard to not notice the pain etched into his beautiful features. The tight set of his jaw. The redness that rimmed his eyes. Your fingers ached to reach over and smooth out the crease between his brows.

“There were so many things I could have done to make things right between us again. Even if you wouldn’t have me back. But my pride, and my ego… I did nothing—”

“You can’t pin it all on yourself, Jaehyun,” you said, shaking your head. “I had no idea what I wanted. And even when I did, I never acted—I never stood up for myself. I could’ve fought for us, but I didn’t. I just accepted everything. Hell, I never even told you how I felt.”

You flashed him a watery smile. “We needed the time away from each other, don’t you think?” 

There was a moment where the two of you simply stared at each other. A hurricane of repressed emotions swirled in your chest, finally breaking the surface five years on. Jaehyun must have felt the same, reliving all those memories now. You could see it on his face.

Youth was so beautiful, and precious — even the heartbreak, and all the other foolish things that came along with it. 

“I let you go once, and maybe that was meant to happen.” He took a step closer. “But we’re not dumb teenagers anymore. I’m not… I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

His eyes locked on yours as he gazed at you with reverence. “Don’t you still feel the same? Even after all these years?”

I do, you wanted to say. 

You would have too, if it weren’t for the small speck of white that landed in Jaehyun’s dark hair. It was visible for only a few seconds before melting away. You looked up and sure enough, the night sky was dotted with white.

“First snow,” you breathed, watching as the snowflakes fell from the sky. “Do you know what that means?”

Jaehyun gave you a small shake of his head. Of course. He never believed in superstitions.

You reached for his hand, feeling his fingers respond to yours immediately. He was so warm, and his touch breathed life back into your frozen body.

“If you see the first snow with someone you love, it means that your love will be true and long-lasting.”

A few seconds passed as he took in your words, trying to make sense of them.

“You… love me?”

“I do,” you admitted. A teardrop finally spilled out from your waterline, leaving behind a wet track on your cheek that stung in the cold. “Even when I thought I hated you, deep down, I think I still loved you.”

One of his hands came up to wipe away the trail of moisture from the escaped tear. The action sent a shiver through your entire body.

“I never stopped loving you,” he confessed softly, stroking your cheek. You felt it then, that deep, aching feeling that had threaded itself into the very marrow of your bones. 

Longing. You longed for his presence, his smile, his touch. You longed to hold his heart in your hands again, and give him yours in exchange. You had missed him more than you could bear, and here he was, telling you his heart was where it had always been, sitting in the centre of your palm. 

Perfect moments didn’t exist, but damn did this one come close.

“Come here,” Jaehyun whispered, pulling you into him. 

His mouth was just as sweet as you remembered. His lips were a little rougher, slightly chapped from the cold. His kiss was slow and patient, taking his time to explore the shape of your mouth and mould to it again. You felt his smile, the slight tension in his bottom lip giving him away, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, a quiet giggle bubbling in your chest before escaping through your lips. 

“I really fucking missed you,” you mumbled against his mouth, another giggle accompanying the words. “You kissed me and then you were on a plane to the other side of the world.” 

“I told you I’d see you when I was back, didn’t I?” he reminded, giving your waist a small squeeze. “And for the record, you kissed me. Not that it matters.”

You swatted a hand against his chest. “I see you still care too much about technicalities.”

Jaehyun only laughed, that deep and familiar sound you had craved to hear for the last 3 months. He pulled your hands into his warm ones, and pressed his lips to your knuckles. 

“Your hands are cold,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around yours. 

“Well, I was about to head back inside when you found me. It’s nice and toasty in there.”

“Do you want to go in now?”

You looped your arms around his neck and buried your head into the crook of it. “Let’s just stay out here for a little bit longer,” you said, words muffled by the fabric of his coat. “You always run hot in the colder months anyways. Enough to keep me warm.”

He hummed in agreement, holding you flush against him as the snow fell around you. In his arms, you were the most at ease you had been in years, and the thought was almost enough to bring a fresh new wave of moisture to your eyes. 

“What is that—something’s digging in,” he suddenly said, pulling away from you. His eyes landed on the pendant that had slipped out from underneath the lapels of your coat. Wordlessly, he reached for it, running his thumb across the pale pearl that hung from your neck. 

“You kept this?” 

“Of course,” you answered. “You kept yours.”

He smiled, a big one, dimples marking his cheeks. “Of course,” he repeated. 

“We’re lucky, aren’t we? To have found each other again after all this time?”

Jaehyun’s reply took the form of another sweet and unhurried kiss. It warmed you from the inside out, all the way down to the tips of your toes.

“So we’re really doing this, right?” he asked. “We’re giving us a second chance?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you said all that earlier just for shits and giggles?”

“Of course not,” he chuckled, squeezing your sides again. “I just wanted to make sure. I think I might lose faith in the world if you tell me you don’t want to be with me.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” you reassured. The snow was sticking to his hair, and you took a second to run your hands through it, brushing off the half-melted pieces. His eyes fondly followed your every movement.

“Good, because I plan on keeping you for a long time.”

You returned inside shortly after. The snow had picked up and it was clear that you couldn’t stay out for much longer (unless you wanted hypothermia, which neither of you did). The function hall was much emptier now than it had been when you stepped out, and of the remaining faces, none of them were familiar. 

A quick glance at your phone showed a few unread messages from Joy. 

joy [08:32 pm]: hey, had to leave, doyoung’s still working tomorrow so it’s an early night for me joy [08:33 pm]: hope you and jaehyun work things out joy [08:33 pm]: i’m rooting for you guys!!

joy [08:37 pm]: also can you see if jungwoo is okay joy [08:38 pm]: i don’t think he’s come out yet

“Can I ask a favour, just before we go?”

Jaehyun smiled back at you sweetly, devotion written in his eyes. “Anything.”

“Pop into the men’s room and check if Jungwoo’s still alive?”

Life was a funny thing. 

“There are so few things in life that are guaranteed. Death, for one, and taxes, for another. Sorry if that was a bit dark and killed the mood. You can laugh, by the way. But I think everyone here would agree, neither of those two are all that conducive to happiness.”

Roundabout. 

“So when the girl you’ve been chasing, for what feels like an eternity, finally gives you a second chance, you absolutely cannot take it for granted. You grab onto that chance with both hands, and even your teeth if you have to. It’s no guarantee for happiness, but it’s your best bet.”

Unpredictable. 

“I’m not a God-fearing man, but I’m a God-believing man. I thank God everyday for bringing such a magnificent woman into my life.”

He raised his glass. 

“Joy, you make me the happiest person in the world, and I can’t wait to be married to you.”

The crowd broke into warm applause as Doyoung finished off his impromptu speech by planting a kiss on his bride-to-be.

“He’s so good at talking,” you mused, wrapping your arm around Jaehyun’s. “If that’s his toast for this, I wonder what his vows will be like.”

A year ago, you would never have believed that you’d be attending your co-worker’s engagement party, much less with your ex-boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years. Spring had well and truly arrived, and with it came promises of love and new beginnings. The last rays of the April afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of the riverside art centre. The venue was gorgeous, floating on the edge of the river with unobstructed views of the skyline and where it met the water — as always, Joy knew how to pick a spot.

“I didn’t know she rejected him before they got together. He must have really liked her.”

Jaehyun gave you a crooked smile. “Four years of university, and he never gave up. Even when she started dating that blockhead from liberal arts.”

“I bet he would’ve felt like the luckiest guy in the world when she finally said yes to a date,” you said, watching as the happy couple shared a moment, giggling about something nobody else was privy to. Jaehyun followed your gaze and made a small noise of agreement.

“Not as lucky as I am to have found you again.”

He ran his thumb across your knuckles. You could’ve sworn there was stardust sprinkled into those pretty brown eyes of his.

Life was a funny thing, for sure. It had a funny way of bringing back things you once thought you had lost forever. You knew now that you had to seize them before they passed by. Who knew if they’d ever turn up again?

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Jungwoo set his glass down on the table with a loud thunk, lightly startling you.

“I’m right here. You guys know that, right? I am right in front of you.”

A sheepish smile was thrown his way. “Sorry.” You patted his hand once, softly. “Your time will come, I’m sure of it,” you reassured. “How did the date with the KU Business girl go?”

“I flaked,” Jungwoo said simply.

“No! Why?”

He sighed. “Blind dates are really not my thing. It’s too awkward. And it feels so superficial. Like, what if you have nothing in common, or there’s no physical attraction, or—” 

Jungwoo paused, cutting himself off. “Actually, I’m not talking about this with you people. I’m going to get another drink.” With that, he turned and headed straight for the cocktail bar. You and Jaehyun gazed at him from behind as he walked off.

“I’m gonna be babysitting him again tonight, aren’t I?” Jaehyun asked, the question directed at nobody in particular.

“People are going to start wondering if you’re dating me or him.”

His mouth curled into a smirk. “Should I give them a reminder?”

“My boss is standing right over there, so no.”

Junmyeon and Irene were still going steady, to your surprise. You’d probably be seeing more and more of him, since Joy and the rest of the Parks genuinely treated Irene like one of their own. The thought wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but not awful either. Maybe you were warming up to him.

“Also, you should probably be careful about who you call blockhead,” you said to Jaehyun, holding back a smile.

He fixed you with a suspicious stare. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” you trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his head. The smile broke through, your cheeks lifting as you tried to keep the laughter from coming out. He, on the other hand, was thoroughly unimpressed.

“You should really watch your mouth,” he said lowly, though he was smiling. There was a look in his eyes that sent a jolt straight to the pit of your stomach.

“Or what?”

His hands were all over you before you even made it through the door.

“My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy girlfriend,” he mumbled, peppering your neck with kisses between each adjective. The keypad finally beeped and you pushed down on the handle, letting the door swing open as you pulled him in by the collar.

“Stop talking and just kiss me,” you sighed, dragging his face back up to yours. He was all too eager to comply, mouth slotting over yours with practised ease. His tongue brushed along yours in the way he knew you liked, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure. Fire licked at your insides as he drew a light moan from you.

Four months in, the second time around, and everything with Jaehyun was still electrifying.  

Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally succeeding with undoing the top one after a few tries. Hands came up around the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto his kitchen countertop. The marble was cool to the touch, and you felt it through the silk of your dress, a soft gasp of surprise flying from your mouth into his awaiting one.

“Been wanting to do this all day, ever since you put this thing on,” Jaehyun rasped. The heat of his body radiated into you from where he stood between your parted legs. He was so warm up against you, and he smelled so good, you were positively light-headed with desire.

His mouth ghosted over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “You look so fucking good,” he said, teeth gently grazing the skin of your neck. “My pretty girl.” The quick press of his hips into yours pulled another moan out of you, and you braced a hand against the marble countertop.

Your fingers knocked against the edge of something sharp and sent it tumbling to the floor, where it landed with a heavier thud than you were expecting.

“What was that?” you forced out in between gasps. Jaehyun’s teeth nipped at your collarbone, showing no signs of letting up. “Wait, Jae, something fell on the floor.”

You had smashed a mug in your apartment in the midst of it once. Better safe than sorry.

Reluctantly, Jaehyun detached himself from you and bent down to retrieve the fallen item. He was breathing hard as he picked up a thick, padded envelope, and flipped it over to read the details.

“Photos,” he finally managed, tossing the package back onto the counter. “We can look at them later.”

His mouth was on you again, working at the spot between your neck and shoulder that always had your knees weak and toes curling. 

“Wait,” you giggled, “my film photos? I want to see.” He had sent the camera off almost two weeks ago, and you had been (im)patiently waiting for the developed pictures to be sent back. 

Jaehyun looked up at you with hooded eyes. “Really? You want to look at them now?”

You nodded. 

A beat passed before his face broke into a lazy smile. 

“Okay,” he chuckled softly, reaching for the envelope again. 

There was a good stack in there. The ones on top were more recent, with a few shots from his birthday that had recently passed. You had taken him ice skating at the outdoor rink atop Namsan Mountain. The twinkling lights that hung from the trees surrounding the rink were still beautiful, even through photos. Jaehyun was good at so many things that it was unfair — how could he be so talented and have a face like that? — but on that day, you discovered that ice skating was not one of his strengths, and the bruises on his tailbone could attest to that. 

“The colouring on these is really nice,” you murmured, flicking through the photos.

He hummed. “They are. This place doesn’t over-saturate the images, which is why I like them.”

A few more pictures from Christmas, where the two of you had set up a pillow fort — it had always been a childhood dream of yours — and stayed in watching movies for three whole days because it was too cold to do anything that required leaving the house. Funnily enough though, you had spent New Year’s Eve out in the cold with a few thousand others, waiting for the annual fireworks. There were a few shots of those as well. 

You neared the bottom of the stack, recognising the blur of colours that formed the crowd of the jazz festival from last year.

“All of these are out of focus,” you complained, a pout adorning your lips. The shots of the stage, of the artists, even the one of Jaehyun and the cute face he made trying to fit the burger in his mouth. Only the two pictures of you were crisply defined, because he had taken them. 

You flipped to the last photo. It was the one you took at the end of the show, during the closing bars of Lauv’s set. Miraculously, this one was in focus. You could see the press of your cheek against Jaehyun’s, and the slight surprise in his eyes as you had clicked the shutter. Lauv was nowhere to be seen, but maybe a clear shot of him as well would have been asking for too much. 

“Can I say something cheesy?” Jaehyun asked softly. 

“You’ll say it anyway.”

“I really wanted to kiss you. On this day.”

Strange, that it was these words which brought heat to your cheeks. Surely there were other things that would be more appropriate to blush about, instead of a months-late admission that was degrees more innocent than your current situation, where Jaehyun’s shirt was half undone, and the fabric of your dress was bunched up around your hips. 

“I wanted to kiss you right there, in the crowd. And then I wanted to kiss you again, here, when you made that stupid ramen joke. And when you had that chilli flake stuck on the corner of your mouth.”

You set the last photo down on the counter and turned back to Jaehyun, who was still standing between your knees. 

“And how about now?” you asked, the corners of your mouth lifting in a teasing smile. 

He cradled your chin, tilting your face towards his, and let the pad of his thumb brush over the swell of your bottom lip. 

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

The crescent moon was high and luminescent in the sky when you caught your breath again, the last few waves of euphoria ebbing away through your body. Jaehyun always indulged you.

Maybe a little too much. 

You turned to him, nestling your face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of soap and his skin. A finger lazily traced over the ridges of his stomach. 

“That tickles,” he mumbled into your hair. It must’ve still been damp from the shower, but he didn’t seem to mind. Fatigue was already tugging away at him. 

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked softly, looking up at him. 

He shook his head, just slightly. “I like knowing you’re there.”

You resumed your movements, but it was only a few seconds before Jaehyun was shifting, soft laughs filling the intimate space of his bedroom.  

“That really does tickle,” he said, smile threaded into his voice. One of his hands reached for yours, pulling it up to rest against his chest. The gentle press of his lips on your forehead was a delicate thing. 

You fell asleep like that, feeling the steady beat of his heart, quiet and sure beneath your fingertips. It was warm in his hold, and safe. There was no other home you needed to know.

[earlysunshines]

clay hearts

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you've been working on a bunch of pottery for two hours, danielle thinks you need a break.

warnings: none just lots of kissing maybe ;ceramicist!reader ; they're disgustingly in love ; soooo in love ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: guys i am so delusional and in love with danielle marsh that whole pottery ep actually killed me she's so cute i need to be restrained.

in the little corner of your apartment, right next to the window that lets the sun shine on your features, you’re throwing another glob of clay only your wheel. it’s been fifteen minutes since you started, and you’ve successfully made one cup. one. 

you huff, ready to work on at least two more cups before you move onto some bigger pieces. 

before you can start on the next, you hear the door creaking open. you turn your head and see your girlfriend closing the door behind her. you smile immediately. 

“danielle,” you greet softly, fondly. “i missed you.”

her eyes light up when she sees you sitting by the pottery wheel. her footsteps are soft as she walks towards you, smiling and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“hey, you,” she murmurs, brushing a bit of clay from oyur eyebrow. “missed you more.”

“no way.”

“yes way.” she giggles. “i’ll let you get back to work, i have some of my own to tackle.”

you hum in response, leaving her to whatever is on her to-do list. 

—

hours slip by in quiet focus. you lose yourself in shaping the clay, unaware of just how much time has passed by as you made three cups, a plate, and a small vase. there’s the occasional groan or curse that slips from your lips as you tackle the stubborn pieces that refuse to cooperate. 

about an hour in, danielle had settled herself at the small beanbag near the coffee table, quietly working on her assignments with her laptop perched on her lap. she’s close enough to be company but far enough to let you work. 

you glimpse at danielle here and there in between each piece, happy to have her close to you. and she’s doing the same, stealing glances at you every few minutes, watching the way your brows furrow as you concentrate, the way your fingers shift to smooth and shape the clay. you’re lost in your own world. 

you look completely at ease, even in frustration, and something about it all — about you, your apron, and skin covered in flecks of clay — makes her heart skip. danielle can’t help but sneak a picture, you’re just so adorable in her eyes.

eventually, danielle can’t hold back. thirty-minutes later she closes her laptop softly and shifts in her seat, watching you for a few moments longer, letting the sound of your jazz playlist fill the silence. her chin is on her palm and she grins, calling out, “how about a break?”

“not yet,” you mumble, “almost done.” your eyes don’t leave the wheel, you’re not finished throwing the piece at hand — a strawberry vase that someone paid extra for; extra as in enough to take you and your girlfriend out for dinner at the end of the week — though your lips quirk into a small, appreciative smile.

she laughs softly, folding her arms as she sits back in the beanbag chair. “you’ve been making those weird noises you make when you’re frustrated for the past two hours, you know. i think you deserve one.”

finally breaking your focus, you glance over at her. her eyes are warm and soft and she’s smiling at you like she’s been waiting just to catch your attention. she looks especially alluring in your t-shirt, which fits loosely over her, and with her hair down messily. 

the vase isn’t quite finished, this is your second attempt at shaping it after all. you still have a few days before you can get it done, but you’d rather finish a complex piece like this now than later. spending a few minutes with your beloved girlfriend sounds lovely, but finishing a stubborn, pricey piece like this might have to come first. it’s for both of your sakes anyway, and it’ll only take maybe fifteen more minutes or so.

“dani,” you sigh, looking up at her with a pout, “can i finish this one first?”

she frowns at you, sighing before leaning against the cushion and admiring you again. “fine, fine.”

you give her an apologetic smile before returning to the piece. 

on your third attempt at constructing the strawberry vase, you accidentally make a dent. it had been going so well too, the sides all even and the structure perfect, but you just had to apply too much pressure as you slid your fingers up. you stare down at the clay spinning around, the dent making it look unappealing as it does so.

frustrated and out of sheer annoyance, you smack your hand down on it, flattening the shape completely. danielle watches you groan, leaning back and closing your eyes as you try to shake off the irritation.

as you redirect your attention again, starting to shape the mess of clay on the wheel, a small shuffle catches your attention. you turn to see danielle pulling up a chair right behind you. you raise a brow at the way she leans in close, wrapping her arms around you from behind, her small hands gently covering yours on the wheel.

you’re taken aback, glancing over your shoulder. “what are you doing?”

she tilts her head, grinning cheekily. “helping you out, of course.” she says in a light tone, sending a shiver down your spine.

her fingers curl around yours, guiding your hands back to the clay as you start to reshape it together. her fingers get covered in clay, but she doesn’t seem to care—she’s focused on you, her face close, eyes warm, breath hot as it hits your skin.

“the last time you tried to throw a cup you made quite the mess,” you chuckle, feeling her press closer with her chin resting on your shoulder. “you know this is just gonna make a mess, right?”

“maybe,” she whispers, a playful hint in her tone. and then, out of nowhere, she takes the opportunity of your head being angled towards her to press a quick, soft kiss to your lips.

your heart races, and you turn to her fully, a surprised smile spreading across your face. “is this your way of helping?”

“mhm,” she teases, giving your hands a final nudge before wiping her own on your apron. then, before you can react, her hands slip beneath the apron, resting gently on your ribs over the thin fabric of your tank top. her thumbs trace small circles there, rendering you a flustered mess as every thought of clay dissipates in your mind.

you feel her lips press a soft kiss to your shoulder, then another one to your neck, lingering just enough to send yet another shiver through you; your breath hitches.

turning to face her, your noses almost brush, and she’s giving you that look. the look that she always gives you when she’s amount to leave you breathless and flushed. she leans in again, catching your lips in another kiss, this one softer, warmer. 

your hands, still covered in clay, reach up to rest on her arms, pulling her just a bit closer as her fingers trace lazy patterns over your ribs. it’s a scene straight from a movie: the two of you sharing teasing, lingering kisses, playful and unhurried, each one leaving you feeling lighter than the last.

finally, she pulls back, to which you respond by chasing after, lips brushing against another. she’s smirking at you, her hand moving up to cup your face and brush some clay off.

“feeling better?” she asks as her thumb moves over to rest on the corner of your lip.

“much,” 

“right,” she starts, sliding her hand down to the base of your neck. “i think you should wrap up for the day and pay attention to your lovely girlfriend. how does that sound?”

with the time you spent with your eyes glued to the clay, you never realized the sun setting beside you. the dimmed rays shine on her face perfectly, accentuating each curve of every feature. danielle’s gaze is soft, her touch even softer as she slides her hands over your skin. you swallow shallowly, losing yourself at the sight of her—how could you say no when she looks at you like that?

“i think that sounds lovely.” you mutter, grinning as you lean in for one last kiss.

[langernameohnebedeutung]

there's a lot of valid takes on why Gen Z is becoming radicalised at the rate they are - all that misinformation, tiktok, red pill, the pandemic - all have good points. But I think another factor is that even politically, their sense of normalcy is entirely different to the one of prior generations. The spiral of the last 15 years, the way the Overton window has moved, the change of style and tone in political discourse, the normalisation of anti-democratic ideas, the obsession with people's private lives, the topics that are front and centre during elections these days, the changing concept of the respect and dignity expected in a public office (god I sound like a boomer) - all of that was shocking to us.

the three generations of my family, all born and raised in VERY different time periods from one another, we've all just been equally shocked and horrified again and again these last 15 years - not just by what is happening but how it is happening and by what is possible and how easy it is to make a total mockery of the democracy and the rule of law. For all of us, that was a feeling of realising that something we implicitly trusted in to the point that it didn't need talking about ... just falling away. Or proving to always have been an illusion to begin with. To someone who grows up right now, this safety and security has NEVER existed.

But for these kids - the window of their life where they start becoming politically and culturally aware basically coincides with this downward spiral and I think that makes many of them blind or numb to it. I think for many of them, that's just their understanding of how things naturally progress and politics works. That the way previous generations evaluate the current situation - this framework of intentional manipulation and misinformation and radicalisation - is just fair and acceptable behaviour and that of course politicians manipulate the discourse to get what they want and of course it is normal to tell brazen lies and spread panic if that gets you what you want and if you're loyal to the party, you parrot those lines whether you really believe in them or not. (And let's be honest with ourselves - the seed to that has always been there)

And others, who I imagine intellectually know that things are going downhill, are really stuck in this extremely mind-numbing fatalist mindset (climate change is gonna kill us all anyway, haha) which makes you hopeless and desperate. And being hopeless and desperate also makes you vulnerable to all kinds of manipulation and radicalisation - because the offer you a perspective. Or meaning.

If you think about the trad-wife and redpill stuff or generally christian nationalism but also any movement that instrumentalises history with ideological narratives, you notice that their narratives place periods of stability way back in time in periods that match aspects of their idelogy e.g. their fetishisation of the 1950s. Then they come up with some horrible bad evil enemy that destroyed that paradise and created the 'degenerate' misery we live in now. Authoritarians and ideologues and cults have always done this. It's part of constructing the mutual enemy.

Beause this way, they can create their illusion of this kind of mythical, unreachable utopia (the past) that fascists love and attach all kinds of conditions to reaching that - with no pressure for them to ever actually deliver: women staying at home, racial segregation, christian hegemony, eugenics, absolute exclusion of gay and trans identities etc. This doesn't just have the benefit of pushing their politics on a confused youth (though that's a big benefit) - it also helps them hide from young people that these last 15 years, they literally created the chaos that these kids are living in. They sowed this situation and right now, with the radicalisation of the youth, they are reaping the rewards.

And the thing is, we can blame the Tiktok or whatever but I also think it is important that we let younger people know and feel that what's happening right now - is just not normal and not sustainable.

And yes, we need to let go of the naive illusion that "the kid are going to save the world". We should never have had that. But I also don't think a radical heel-turn vilifying all of Gen Z is going to help anyone or do justice to the situation.

[britcision]

(Oh boy I went to a School so uh we had a lot)

- the time a guy on my bus punched out the principal directly next to the bus and then hopped on. They called the cops the next day to see if he showed up.

He did. They suspended him for six months. The principal got a restraining order which made the rest of the school year… interesting for them

The principal did not return the next year

- one year our fun math teacher bet his grade 12 class that the teachers would win the staff vs student hockey game in September

The closer we got to game time (possibly January idk) the more all of the teachers started wearing their jerseys, broke into each others’ classes for planning sessions (completely separate from their normal invading each others’ classes to sell each other weed)

They had pump up music in the halls between classes, all the teachers wore their hockey jerseys on completely uncoordinated days so they didn’t even wear them all at once

Pretty sure the fun math teacher wore Braveheart style face paint the day before but since uh it is the staff vs the students of the same school they didn’t exactly have team colours

Preeeetty sure he promised to let them shave his head at the end of school assembly if the students won, but I did not exactly have an attendance record so I didn’t go to that

(About 80% sure they did it anyway although I never found out who won the game, I also did not attend that)

Next year? Completely back down to previous levels of mild interest from all involved. May/may not be related to the aforementioned change in principals

- the new principal we got was A Whole Fucking Thing, by the way. Apparently she’d had trouble at her last three schools and then got sent… to us? For some reason?

Where she:

Tried to defund the entire Arts department and tell us we couldn’t have a musical that year. We had one anyway

Switched Fun Math Teacher and Fun Music Teacher who just so happened to have the same name so they had to teach each others’ subjects for the year (they were VERY upset, tried to fix it multiple times, and then just suffered through)

Tried to get the cops to patrol the pines where all the stoners hung out, smoked, and enacted clan warfare

Painted over all the murals which had been done by graduating classes leading back a century

Replaced said historic murals with badly laid out and uneven “motivational” quotes that made no sense

Instituted hall monitoring and hall passes, mandatory for the whole school. Our drama teacher (who fought to the death for said musical) blatantly encouraged us all to flaunt that rule, lose the pass, and use any challenges as an improv exercise. One time she let 10 people go at once because we needed pencils and no one brought those to drama class, so she just told them to scatter and all claim they had her pass. I don’t think she had a pass

We. Uh. Retaliated in kind, including a school wide walk out organized by the goddamn stoners (You Know You Fucked Up When)

I was interviewed by the news cuz I had hippy hair by sheer coincidence that day

And a little before the end of the school year we were all assured that she was being “promoted” to a desk job somewhere in the board of education and would never work in a school again

(I had a couple friends who went to the school she’d been at right before ours. They were very impressed and supported our actions)

- again, I did not attend end of school anything, but one year the fun math teacher faked a zipline by stringing a line to the stage and getting the English teachers to push him on a skateboard

I suspect they were influenced by memes because no way in hell could we do an actual zipline

- in my last year a fight broke out between two girls in the cafeteria. An entirely commonplace event, except while the two of them were just rolling around on the ground a third girl came over

Circled them a few times examining the fight from all angles

And began kicking the shit out of both of them indiscriminately

We suspect she knew them but probably not what the fight was about. She won though

- actually I dunno if the staff vs student hockey game was even a thing other high schools did but every year the grade 12s fielded a team to play against the teachers

The teachers usually won by dint of having a consistent team that played together for multiple years, while the school hockey team was mixed grades

- oh and not exactly an incident but the hot math teacher used to dress up as Indiana Jones for Halloween every year and if you sharpened your pencil and then put it down he’d throw it into the ceiling to see if it stuck

We never warned the next class in if a pencil had gotten stuck because sometimes they just fell down in the middle of class it was great

- one of my sister’s friends exclusively drew dragons for art class. The next four years the art teacher banned anyone from submitting dragons for anything

[51voices]

Three's a Thrill

Kinkvember Day 6: Threesome

Dreamcatcher Kim Yoohyeon x Kim JiU (Minji) x Female reader/OC

(Reader has some body modification for plot purposes)

AN: A little late on this one, classes have been kicking my butt.

“I bet they’re a writer or something,” JiU mused, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Or maybe a chef,” you countered with a grin. “Someone who’ll invite us over for tastings.”

JiU laughed, the sound light and familiar. “Oh wow, could you imagine? Think of all the food we’d get to try.”

With that, you both made your way up the path to the new neighbor’s house, footsteps echoing lightly against the quiet surroundings. The house next door had been empty for months, and the curiosity had been building between you two. JiU’s excitement was clear as she climbed the front steps, flashing her trademark smile. With a firm knock, she announced your arrival.

The door swung open to reveal a young woman with shoulder-length hair, dark eyes and a welcoming smile that instantly put you at ease.

“Hello! A fresh face in the neighborhood. Welcome” JiU greeted warmly, extending her hand.

The woman’s eyes sparkled as she shook JiU’s hand. “Hi, I'm Yoohyeon. It’s so nice to meet you both—I’ve been hoping to connect with my neighbors.”

JiU stepped back slightly, gesturing toward you. “I’m Kim Minji, but you can call me JiU, and this is my lovely wife.” Her smile softened as she brushed her hand over your shoulder in an affectionate, natural gesture that made your bond clear. Feeling a bit shy but warmed by the gesture, you extended a hand to greet Yoohyeon.

Yoohyeon’s eyes flickered with surprise before softening. In the conservative country they lived in, it was rare for same sex couples to introduce themselves so openly. She admired the quiet confidence you both shared, comforted by how natural your expressions of love felt. Smiling back, she felt an unexpected sense of kinship.

“It’s really nice to meet you both,” Yoohyeon said sincerely, excitement lacing her tone. “I just moved in and am still finding my way around, but it already feels more like home knowing I have such friendly neighbors.”

JiU chuckled and glanced at you with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, we’ve definitely been in your shoes. The first week we moved here, I couldn’t even remember which bus line went where,” she laughed. “So, how’s settling in going?”

Yoohyeon looked around her cozy entryway, decorated in a warm, minimalist style. “It’s been… a bit of a whirlwind, honestly. I’m actually an English teacher, so between commuting, learning where everything is, and getting the house in order, I’m still finding my rhythm.”

“Oh, an English teacher! That’s wonderful,” you said warmly, your interest clear in your voice. “Moving can feel overwhelming at first, but if you need anything—a ride, directions, or even a café recommendation—we’re just next door.”

“Thank you so much! That’s really kind of you,” Yoohyeon replied, visibly relieved. “I’d love to know more about the neighborhood. Any local gems?”

“Oh, plenty!” JiU’s smile widened. “There’s an amazing bakery just around the corner. Their strawberry mochi is to die for, they always sell out early. And there’s also a café a few blocks down called Insomnia Café that makes the best iced caramel lattes in town.”

“Those sound incredible; I can’t wait to try them out,” Yoohyeon said, mentally noting the recommendations. Then, with a curious look, she asked, “And you two? What do you do for work?”

JiU exchanged an amused look with you, a hint of mystery in her eyes. “Oh, we mostly work from home,” she said with a slight, knowing smile that felt almost deliberate.

You added with a playful glimmer, “It gives us a lot of freedom to travel and enjoy life—a definite perk,” leaving Yoohyeon to wonder if there was more to your work than met the eye.

“That sounds amazing,” Yoohyeon replied, intrigued but not wanting to press. She sensed a layer of mystery between you two, but also a warmth—a quiet, unspoken connection that drew her in, as though she’d found friends as unique as they were welcoming.

The conversation continued, covering everything from the best local grocery stores to the quirks of the nearby subway lines. JiU’s stories were punctuated with laughter, and though you were quieter, you leaned in occasionally with thoughtful comments and small, knowing glances that spoke volumes. The closeness between you two was undeniable—a shared understanding that filled the air with ease.

After a while, JiU glanced at you and gave a slight nod. “Well, we’ll leave you to get settled,” she said warmly. “We just wanted to stop by to say hello and welcome you. Don’t hesitate to come by if you need anything or just want to chat.”

As you and JiU turned to leave, Yoohyeon found herself smiling, a flutter of excitement settling in her chest. Watching you both walk away, she couldn’t shake the thrill of having such warm, intriguing people right next door. She felt a spark—maybe this move would bring more than she’d initially expected.

-----

One late evening, Yoohyeon stood by her bedroom window, drawn to the quiet charm of the night. The neighborhood lay still, each house settled into its evening calm, with only the occasional faint glow of a light here or there. She often enjoyed these solitary moments, gazing out at the world beyond her window and letting her mind wander.

Tonight, her gaze drifted almost involuntarily toward JiU and your home, the upstairs bedroom window just visible from where she stood. Yoohyeon’s eyes narrowed as she noticed movement in the soft, dim light seeping through the curtains. Curiosity got the best of her, and she couldn’t help but look closer. She could make out the silhouettes of JiU and you, laughing together, leaning against the wall, faces flushed as you playfully nudged each other.

As her eyes adjusted to the faint light, the details became clearer: JiU, with her tousled hair falling loose, dressed in a simple sports bra and shorts, while you wore a fitted tank top and briefs. A light sheen on your skin hinted that you’d both been dancing or wrestling playfully. The sight was so candid, so deeply intimate, that Yoohyeon felt like an unintentional intruder. She should have looked away, yet something about the relaxed, unguarded way you shared this private moment kept her eyes fixed.

JiU’s arm slipped around your waist, faces close enough to be nearly nose-to-nose, both of you laughing softly, as though sharing a secret. There was something mesmerizing about the ease between you two, a mutual warmth that Yoohyeon could almost feel across the distance. A blush crept up her cheeks, her heartbeat quickening in response to the scene unfolding before her.

Realizing her gaze had lingered too long, Yoohyeon tore her eyes away, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else—a faint stirring in her core that surprised her. She had known JiU and you as the friendly, slightly mysterious couple next door, but tonight, witnessing this side of you stirred something unfamiliar, something undeniably thrilling within her.

She took a deep breath and sank onto her bed, willing herself to forget what she had just seen. Determined to shake the image from her mind, she picked up her phone and scrolled through social media, hoping to distract herself with harmless videos and updates. But her mind kept wandering back to the way you’d looked at each other, the comfortable closeness, and the undeniable spark between you.

Frustrated, Yoohyeon switched apps, almost without realizing it, and found herself on an adult site. She felt a bit silly, yet the warmth that had built inside her urged her to seek some release. As she scrolled through thumbnails, nothing seemed to capture the raw, genuine intimacy she’d just witnessed between you and JiU. Every other video felt strangely hollow by comparison.

Just as she was about to put her phone away, a particular thumbnail caught her eye. The resemblance to you and JiU was uncanny—the same dark hair, the same air of easy intimacy she’d glimpsed from her window. A forbidden thrill stirred within her as she hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen before she tapped “play,” her heart racing as the video loaded.

Through her headphones, JiU’s voice murmured gently, as if meant just for her. “Are you ready?” she asked, her tone full of warmth and teasing care. Yoohyeon’s heart fluttered as the image on-screen filled her mind.

Then, as her gaze drifted over your figure on the screen, her heart suddenly skipped a beat. A flash of metal caught her eye—a nipple piercing, gleaming softly against your skin. Yoohyeon’s pulse raced. She’d had no idea you had such a bold, hidden side. There had never been a hint of body art or piercings in your everyday appearance, and this quiet, thrilling detail felt like a secret unveiled.

Her breath caught, surprise mingling with fascination. Body modifications had always intrigued her, and this little discovery seemed to reveal something new about you—a quiet strength, a hidden edge, something both beautiful and daring.

Yoohyeon’s pulse quickened, her body tingling with anticipation as her hand slipped between her legs, moving in sync with JiU’s careful touch on the screen. JiU’s hands traced slow, tantalizing circles over your skin, each movement deliberate and unhurried. The rhythm was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic, and Yoohyeon found herself mirroring the pace, her breaths shallow as she matched JiU’s gentle, precise touches.

Her senses drifted, pulled deeper into the intimacy unfolding before her. JiU’s sultry voice seemed to reach through the screen, drawing Yoohyeon closer. Each whispered word and soft caress felt like an invitation, coaxing her further into your shared world. As the camera lingered on your face, lips parted with a soft, breathless sigh, Yoohyeon felt herself lost in the vulnerability of the moment, each delicate sound heightening her own arousal.

Her gaze flickered between you and JiU, her fingers moving faster as the tension within her grew. The way your body responded—the subtle tremble, eyes fluttering shut as JiU held you on the edge—felt almost sacred, an intimacy that sent shivers through her. Yoohyeon bit her lip, her breaths quickening as her release approached, caught up in the magnetic pull of your connection.

Finally, as JiU brought you to climax, Yoohyeon heard her gentle voice again, murmuring, “Are you close, baby?… Yes, you can cum. Cum for me, my sweetie.” Yoohyeon’s body surged with her own release, her fingers pressing down as a stifled moan escaped her lips, waves of pleasure flooding over her. She lay there for a moment, head spinning, still basking in the lingering warmth. It felt surreal, as if she’d shared in something intimate with you—an unexpected closeness that stayed with her, even after the video faded to black.

In the days that followed, Yoohyeon found herself drawn back to JiU and your videos, watching with a growing intensity. She became captivated by the smallest gestures between you—the way JiU’s hand lingered on your cheek, or the soft laugh you’d give in response to her teasing. The catalog of videos became her private indulgence, something she turned to each evening, a ritual that filled the quiet spaces in her life.

Yet, the more she watched, a subtle ache grew within her—a yearning she couldn’t quite put into words. She’d watch each video, hoping to make sense of her feelings, but it only left her wanting more. This wasn’t just attraction; it was a craving for the deep bond she witnessed, a connection that seemed almost unattainable. And as she realized this, a creeping guilt began to take hold.

What am I even doing? she’d mutter to herself, torn between the comfort she found in the videos and the nagging feeling that she’d crossed an invisible line. They’d posted these videos for people to see, she reasoned; it’s not as if I’m invading their privacy. But the rationalization felt thin, a flimsy excuse for the thrill she felt in watching.

They wanted people to see this, right? she’d tell herself, trying to believe it; otherwise, why share something so intimate? But the sense of trespass lingered. She knew she should stop, that she needed to let this go. And yet, the pull of your bond, and the warmth it brought her, was something she wasn’t sure she could resist.

Outside of these moments, her days began to feel increasingly hollow. Work felt tedious, gatherings with friends left her restless, as if nothing could break the hold you and JiU had on her mind. And the more she tried to ignore the videos, the emptier she felt, like a crucial part of herself was missing.

When Yoohyeon returned home one day, the emptiness she’d tried to ignore settled back over her. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t return to those videos, yet her mind drifted, thinking of the warmth and passion she’d witnessed through her screen. She tried to distract herself, scrolling through social media and tidying her apartment, but her thoughts always circled back to you both.

Her routines had become dull, a monotonous hum against the vivid memories she replayed. Each night felt longer and lonelier, the quiet of her apartment amplifying the ache within her. And so, once again, she found herself at her bedroom window, gaze drifting toward your house, drawn to the only place that seemed to promise any relief.

Through the soft glow of your bedroom curtains, Yoohyeon could see your silhouettes, leaning close, bodies entwined in a quiet, intimate moment. Her heart skipped a beat, a thrill racing through her as she watched, her eyes fixed on your faces mere inches apart, bodies pressed together in a gentle embrace.

I shouldn’t be watching this, she told herself, but her body didn’t move. She rationalized that it was harmless, that it wasn’t wrong to watch from her own window. But part of her knew better. This was a private moment, and she was an uninvited guest. Yet the pull was magnetic, each glimpse deepening her curiosity, a live show she couldn’t resist.

Each night, Yoohyeon found herself back at the window, drawn into the private world you and JiU shared. Sometimes, you simply laughed over a glass of wine or leaned into each other, speaking softly. Other times, the moments were charged, your touches tender yet powerful, holding her in place as a silent witness to something she knew she couldn’t reach.

Over time, this ritual became a comfort, enough to carry her through her days. She tried to distract herself with work, with friends, but nothing compared to these glimpses. Eventually, the temptation grew stronger. She ordered a pair of compact binoculars, her heart racing as she unwrapped them. She knew it was wrong, that this was a step too far, but the thrill of watching, of catching each movement and expression, was irresistible. Through the lens, everything became vivid—every glance, each soft touch, every shared smile between you and JiU.

Deep down, she knew she’d crossed a line, but the quiet connection she felt each night kept her tethered to the window, watching, even as guilt lingered beneath her excitement.

-----

A few days later, while tending to the flowers in her front yard, Yoohyeon heard a soft clearing of the throat. Turning, she saw JiU leaning casually against the fence, a warm smile brightening her face.

“Hey, Yoohyeon,” JiU greeted, her gaze sweeping over the flowerbeds. “The flowers look beautiful. You’ve really brought some life to the neighborhood.” Her tone was light, yet the compliment carried an unexpected warmth.

“Oh, thanks!” Yoohyeon replied, brushing a petal with her fingers and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, hoping JiU wouldn’t notice the blush rising in her cheeks.

JiU stepped a little closer, her presence filling the space between them. “Listen,” she began, voice warm and inviting, “Y/N and I were talking, and if you’re free tonight, maybe you’d like to come over for dinner? It’d be nice to have a proper evening together, just us neighbors.” Her gaze was intent, as if searching for something in Yoohyeon’s reaction.

Yoohyeon’s breath caught, her mind racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. “Oh—dinner? Sure, I’d love that,” she managed, her voice trembling slightly.

JiU’s smile deepened, her gaze softening as if reassured by Yoohyeon’s answer. “Perfect,” she replied, her voice a touch lower. “Come by around seven; we’ll keep it cozy.” She held Yoohyeon’s gaze a moment longer, leaving Yoohyeon’s heart fluttering in anticipation.

The hours before dinner seemed to stretch and then fly by. Yoohyeon agonized over what to wear, searching for something casual yet flattering. Nervous energy buzzed in her stomach as she made her way up your front steps. When she knocked, her heart pounded, and JiU answered almost instantly, her face lighting up.

“Come on in! You look lovely,” JiU said, her voice rich with warmth as she ushered Yoohyeon inside. A faint scent of spices filled the air, mingling with a subtle floral aroma that heightened Yoohyeon’s awareness of every detail.

You appeared from the kitchen with a tray of small appetizers, smiling as you waved. “Hey, Yoohyeon. Make yourself comfortable,” you said, setting the tray down with a gentle laugh that only added to the inviting ambiance.

JiU handed Yoohyeon a glass of water, their fingers brushing just briefly. The touch sent a spark through Yoohyeon, and she couldn’t help but think of the way she’d watched those fingers move through her binoculars—the gentle, sensual touch. She took a quick sip of water, hoping to cool the flush on her cheeks. Her gaze flickered around the cozy living room, catching the glow of candlelight casting soft shadows along the walls.

“So, Yoohyeon,” JiU’s voice broke through her thoughts, grounding her. “How’s work treating you? Settling in alright?” JiU’s question felt warm, an invitation for Yoohyeon to open up.

“Oh, yeah, it’s been good,” Yoohyeon replied, grateful for the shift in topic. “Teaching is always an adventure. The kids keep it interesting.” She laughed softly, feeling herself relax. “They’re unpredictable, but that’s part of what makes it so rewarding.”

JiU nodded thoughtfully. “Teaching must take a lot of patience. I admire that,” she said, a hint of humor in her tone. “I think I’d run out of it in ten minutes.”

You chuckled, nudging JiU. “You’d last five minutes. Tops.”

The three of you laughed, and conversation began to flow easily, each of you sharing stories from different corners of life. As JiU shared a story about getting hopelessly lost on the subway, laughter filled the room, each of you letting down your guard a little more.

At some point, JiU’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Do you have any tattoos, Yoohyeon?”

“Oh, yeah.” Yoohyeon smiled, lifting her shirt slightly to reveal a delicate script along her ribs. “It says ‘Liberté, with a small bird.”

“Liberté,” JiU murmured, leaning in to look. “That’s beautiful. It really suits you.” Her voice was low, almost intimate, and Yoohyeon felt a thrill in her chest. Emboldened, she asked, “Do you have any?”

JiU smiled, tugging her collar to reveal a dreamcatcher tattoo on her shoulder. “To remind me to hold onto what matters and let go of the rest.”

“It’s beautiful,” Yoohyeon said softly, unable to shake the image of tracing the tattoo with her fingers. She glanced over at you, curiosity sparking. “How about you?”

You chuckled, glancing at JiU with a playful roll of your eyes. “No tattoos here. Minji’s tried to convince me, but I don’t think I could handle the pain.”

“Oh, she’s terrified,” JiU teased, nudging you affectionately. “But I think she’d look great with one.” The words lingered, stirring an amused smile as Yoohyeon joined in the laughter, her own inhibitions slipping away.

In the warmth of the moment, Yoohyeon suddenly blurted out, “Honestly, a tattoo would hurt a lot less than your piercings.” Her hand gestured toward your chest, lingering just a second too long. Realizing the implication, her cheeks flushed deeply.

Your eyes widened, a blush spreading as you exchanged a look with JiU. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she turned back to Yoohyeon, eyes gleaming. She leaned forward, eyebrow raised.

“Oh? And how do you know about my wife’s piercings, Yoohyeon?” JiU’s voice was smooth, her words dripping with amusement, making Yoohyeon flush under her steady gaze.

Heat flooded Yoohyeon’s cheeks. “I-I didn’t mean to… I just… I, um…” she stammered, avoiding your gaze.

Beside her, you blushed, looking to JiU, finding comfort in her knowing smile.

JiU leaned closer to Yoohyeon, her tone softening. “So Yoohyeon, Do you like watching our videos” she murmured, tracing gentle circles on Yoohyeon’s arm, She was silent but nodded “Hmm If you want,you could be part of the real thing.” Her eyes held Yoohyeon’s, the invitation clear.

Yoohyeon looked at you, feeling the weight of the invitation. She hesitated, her gaze softening. “Are you… really okay with this?” she asked gently.

Meeting Yoohyeon’s gaze, you smiled softly, reassuring her. “I wouldn't be opposed”

JiU’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction as her fingers brushed Yoohyeon’s arm. “So, what do you say?” she asked warmly. “Would you like to be part of our world?”

The room felt charged, each moment more intense. Yoohyeon took a breath, meeting JiU’s gaze with a smile.

“Yes, please,” she whispered, her voice soft, filled with both excitement and nerves.

As you make your way down the dim hallway, everything feels hushed and close, like the world’s gone quiet around the three of you. Yoohyeon walks between you and JiU, her hand clasped tightly in yours, her breathing just a bit quick, her fingers trembling slightly. JiU’s hand rests gently on her shoulder, steady and warm.

When you reach the bedroom, Yoohyeon pauses, taking a small step back, her gaze dropping to the floor. She presses her lips together, then glances up, her cheeks flushing as she searches for the right words. The room feels charged, anticipation thick, but she shifts slightly, looking uncertain.

“I… I didn’t plan for this,” she murmurs, voice low, almost to herself. She hesitates, crossing her arms as if shielding herself, a faint blush coloring her face. “I didn't, uh, exactly… prepare myself” Her eyes shift downward just below her stomach.

JiU steps in, her expression softening. She reaches out, gently tilting Yoohyeon’s chin so their eyes meet. “Yoohyeon,” she says quietly, her tone firm yet kind. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

The words settle into the silence, and Yoohyeon’s expression eases, a flicker of relief softening her eyes. She leans into JiU’s touch, her breath slowing as some of the tension leaves her. A shy smile lifts her lips, and she glances your way, as if looking for further reassurance.

You give her hand a small, comforting squeeze. “She’s right,” you murmur. “Also, I think its kind of sexy”

Yoohyeon’s face relaxes a little more, her shoulders dropping as she lets herself take a deeper breath. With a slight, tentative smile, she reaches down, fingers pausing for a moment before lifting her shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stands there, a bit vulnerable but resolute, a blush warming her cheeks as she glances from you to JiU.

The soft light highlights the natural curves of her skin. She hesitates again, glancing at the slight patch of hair, a flicker of worry crossing her expression. But JiU steps closer, her hand brushing Yoohyeon’s arm in a quiet, reassuring gesture.

With a warm smile, JiU takes her in fully, her gaze steady. She reaches up to tuck a loose strand of Yoohyeon’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger a moment. “You’re beautiful, Yoohyeon,” she says simply.

Yoohyeon lets out a quiet breath, her face softening with a mixture of shyness and relief. She looks between you both, then nods slightly, giving a small, genuine smile. Her body language loosens as she steps in closer, her warmth blending with yours, each touch a quiet affirmation that she’s wanted, just as she is. The three of you stand there, a gentle understanding settling over you all as you hold each other close, a quiet connection shared in the stillness of the room.

A shaky breath escapes Yoohyeon as JiU’s gaze settles on her, warm but undeniably commanding. Yoohyeon’s longing is palpable, and JiU takes her time, letting that desire simmer. Slowly, she leans in, brushing her lips softly over Yoohyeon’s, the kiss beginning gentle before deepening into something more consuming, drawing Yoohyeon closer as her breath catches. JiU’s hand rests on her arm, a steady anchor, fingers pressing just enough to show intent. Each touch from JiU electrifies Yoohyeon, a perfect balance of reassurance and intensity that leaves her pliant, already breathless.

Watching beside them, you’re drawn into the unfolding moment, savoring Yoohyeon’s reaction under JiU’s skilled touch—the way her eyes flutter shut, how her breathing hitches with quiet anticipation. JiU’s gaze briefly meets yours, a spark of control evident, as if reminding you of your place in this shared space. It stirs something raw in you, a familiar exhilaration mixed with a quiet submission to JiU’s presence, though there’s a different energy between you and Yoohyeon.

With a small smile, you reach out, your hand settling warmly on Yoohyeon’s thigh, your touch gentle but grounding, a reminder that she’s here, with both of you. Yoohyeon’s gaze drifts to you, her eyes softened, seeking reassurance, and you respond by squeezing her thigh, letting her feel your steady support, balanced between JiU’s authoritative energy and your own firm but comforting presence.

JiU’s focus returns fully to Yoohyeon as she guides her toward the bed, easing her down onto the soft sheets with a deliberate tenderness. There’s a practiced confidence in JiU’s movements as she brushes Yoohyeon’s hair back from her face, letting her fingers trail along the line of her jaw before tracing down the delicate curve of her neck. She leans in, pressing her lips to Yoohyeon’s collarbone, lingering, savoring each soft gasp Yoohyeon lets out in response.

Beside them, you settle onto the bed, your hand moving slowly higher on Yoohyeon’s thigh, grounding her with a presence that’s both firm and gentle. As JiU’s touch intensifies, guiding Yoohyeon’s breaths to come in short, anticipatory gasps, you find yourself caught between the energy they share. You want to keep Yoohyeon steady, but JiU’s movements send a different thrill through you, a pull you find hard to ignore as your own dynamic with JiU stirs within.

JiU’s attention stays fixed on Yoohyeon, her touch reverent yet possessive, as if she’s savoring every response Yoohyeon gives. Her hand trails deliberately over Yoohyeon’s skin, slow yet insistent, her fingers brushing over her arm, her collarbone, every touch deepening the flush on Yoohyeon’s cheeks. Each movement is infused with a quiet dominance, a confidence that seems to wrap around you both, filling the air with its own quiet intensity. Yoohyeon’s breath catches with each stroke, her body relaxing under JiU’s touch, fully yielding to her guidance.

You watch, captivated, as JiU leans in closer, her mouth tracing delicate, intentional kisses along Yoohyeon’s neck, pausing just enough to let her feel every touch. The sight sends a thrill through you but also a subtle pang that you try to brush aside, yet the quiet ache grows as JiU’s attention remains focused on Yoohyeon, her touch almost exclusive. It leaves you on the edge, caught between the warmth you feel for Yoohyeon and the deeper pull JiU has on you.

Taking a steady breath, you press your hand slightly more firmly against Yoohyeon’s thigh, a silent reminder of your own role here. Yoohyeon shifts her gaze to you, and for a moment, the tension eases as her lips curve into a soft, reassuring smile. You meet her gaze, allowing yourself to ground her, pressing a series of light, lingering kisses along her skin. Yoohyeon sighs, her face relaxing as your touches soothe her, anchoring her in the moment, even as JiU’s hands roam with a possessive grace that leaves Yoohyeon visibly breathless.

JiU’s eyes catch yours, a knowing glint flashing across her face, as if she senses your quiet frustration simmering beneath the surface. She lets her fingers trace down the line of Yoohyeon’s hip, moving with that same deliberate care, drawing Yoohyeon’s body into her rhythm as she makes her shiver, her soft sounds filling the space around you. JiU tilts her head, her gaze sharp, her smile carrying a hint of playful challenge, a reminder of her role here and the depth of control she holds over you both.

“You’re doing so well, sweetie,” JiU murmurs to Yoohyeon, her voice a soothing purr. The words settle into the room, layered with a quiet encouragement that makes your pulse quicken as well, grounding you both in the same energy. You lean forward, brushing more intent kisses along Yoohyeon’s thigh, each one deliberate, marking your own space in this moment, letting her feel the shared warmth between all three of you.

Yoohyeon’s breaths quicken as your kisses travel upward, trailing along her inner thigh with a quiet intensity. Her body shifts between you and JiU, her skin warm under your touch, as you savor the softness of her in contrast to JiU’s more demanding presence. The ache you feel at JiU’s control lingers, the quiet jealousy simmering as her touches continue, each one seeming to pull Yoohyeon deeper into her orbit.

JiU’s hand settles possessively over Yoohyeon’s heart, her thumb brushing lightly as she murmurs, “Relax, Yoohyeon.” Her words are gentle, yet laced with authority, reminding Yoohyeon of the safety within her guidance. And when JiU catches your gaze again, there’s a subtle understanding there, a glint that speaks directly to the tension in your chest, as if she knows exactly how you feel, balancing on the edge of this connection.

Watching JiU’s fingers trace lightly over Yoohyeon’s thigh, you can’t help the possessive spark flaring within you. But rather than retreat, you choose to lean further in, letting your hand trail upward along Yoohyeon’s waist, steady and grounding as you press a kiss to her stomach. Yoohyeon’s body shifts, her hand gripping onto your shoulder as if to anchor herself, and for the first time, you let yourself get lost in the warmth radiating between the three of you, knowing you each have a place in this shared space.

Each kiss you place is firm, filled with intent, a quiet promise that you’re here, present in this moment. As you move upward, your lips trace a line over Yoohyeon’s collarbone, feeling the way her breath hitches, her hands finding their way to you, clutching as if drawing strength from you. The earlier pangs of jealousy fade slightly, replaced by a sense of connection, of being fully seen and cherished alongside her.

JiU’s hand rests over Yoohyeon’s heart, her thumb grazing her skin. “Look how ready she is for us,” she murmurs, her gaze slipping between you both, emphasizing the us with a possessive pride that settles the final edge of tension inside you. Her words hang in the air, a reminder of the beauty in this shared intimacy, and as you let yourself sink deeper, you feel the quiet exhilaration shared between all three of you.

Your wife brushes a strand of hair from Yoohyeon’s face, her smile soft and filled with pride. “You’re amazing, both of you,” she murmurs, holding Yoohyeon’s gaze with a warmth that feels momentarily exclusive. Then she glances at you, a spark of playfulness lighting her eyes. “And we’re just getting started.”

JiU’s eyes glint with mischief as she meets Yoohyeon’s gaze, a playful smirk on her lips. She nods toward the closet in a silent cue. You rise, feeling a mix of thrill and something deeper as you move to retrieve two straps—one smaller, one larger.

As you hold them up, you feel the slightest pang of possessiveness mixed with a quiet sense of defiance, grounding you in the moment as JiU’s attention shifts between you both. You turn back to Yoohyeon, meeting her eyes as she hesitates, her gaze flickering over the options before settling on the smaller one, excitement lighting up her expression as she chooses.

“Perfect,” JiU says, her voice low and encouraging, giving Yoohyeon a soft kiss along her jaw as her fingers graze her cheek. “Just let go and enjoy. Focus on us, and trust that you’re right where you belong.”

Yoohyeon nods, her eyes softening as JiU holds her close, her touch grounding the moment. You stand nearby, watching as JiU’s gaze lingers on Yoohyeon. Feeling that familiar spark of possessiveness, something came over you, as you silently set aside the smaller strap, choosing the larger one with a quiet determination.

With calm focus, you position yourself behind Yoohyeon, your hands steady on her hips, your touch warm against her skin. Each move carries a deliberate intensity, a reminder of your place here. You guide her closer to JiU, your touches unhurried, reflecting everything you’ve kept quietly restrained, setting a tone for the night ahead.

JiU’s expression softens as she tilts Yoohyeon’s chin upward, her voice a gentle murmur. “Are you ready?” she asks, her gaze warm as she caresses Yoohyeon’s cheek. Yoohyeon’s eyes shift between the two of you, trust and excitement flickering in her gaze before she nods. JiU leans in to kiss her, tender but with a commanding edge, then guides Yoohyeon’s face towards her core, her movements unhurried and patient as Yoohyeon’s anticipation deepens at the sight.

The moment of penetration elicits a sharp gasp from Yoohyeon, her body instinctively tensing as she tries to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation filling her. The pressure is intense, almost foreign, and it sends an electric wave of sensation through her, somewhere between pain and a thrilling pleasure she’s never felt before. Her fingers tighten reflexively, seeking any form of anchor as the object works itself inside, her senses heightening with each passing second. She shudders, pressing closer to JiU, her face buried against JiU’s legs, muffling the small, breathy cries escaping her lips.

The sounds of Yoohyeon’s voice seem to ignite something deep within JiU, who strokes her hair soothingly, her fingers threading softly but insistently. JiU’s hands guide her. The calm presence grounding Yoohyeon as she navigates the unfamiliar territory of sensation and vulnerability. Yoohyeon feels a rush of heat flood her cheeks, embarrassed by how intensely her body reacts. Each small movement makes her gasp or flinch, Then a particularly forceful thrusts propels her forward leaving no room between her and Jiu.

With slow, but deep movements, each thrust brings her further out of her discomfort and deeper into a sensation that is both electrifying and almost painfully raw. The rhythm builds subtly, adding an undertone of urgency that Yoohyeon isn’t ready to admit to. Her breaths come quicker, ragged, and each inhale draws in the faint, warm scent of JiU, Her mouth trying to explore every inch of her cave

Watching the way JiU’s features melt into pure, unfiltered bliss stirs an extra layer jealousy within you. The sight of Yoohyeon nuzzling into JiU’s folds, lips grazing her skin in worship, makes your pulse quicken, a possessive instinct sparking to life. Your hands, steady until now, tighten on Yoohyeon’s hips, holding her more firmly, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips. You let your pace quicken incrementally, enough to draw a whimper from Yoohyeon as the intensity shifts, her body instinctively pressing deeper against JiU.

JiU, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, tilts her head, her fingers still tracing gentle circles over Yoohyeon’s skin. She glances at you, concern flickering across her gaze as she notices the shift in your demeanor. “Honey… slow down a bit,” she murmurs, her voice gentle yet steady, her touch briefly pressing to your arm as if to calm the possessive fire building within you.

You nod, easing back into a softer, controlled rhythm. The moment feels fragile, balanced on a knife’s edge, and for a brief time, you believe the surge of intensity has been quelled. But as your wife's attention turns fully back to Yoohyeon, her voice lowering into murmured praises that bring a fresh flush to Yoohyeon’s cheeks, you feel it again, the jealousy that you didn't know you had, start to resurface. JiU’s voice is soft and tender, her praises a balm that soothes Yoohyeon’s trembling breaths, each word a gentle brush that eases her into surrender.

Your grip tightens on Yoohyeon’s hips, your fingers pressing firmly, possessively into her skin, Yoohyeon’s breath hitches as she feels the slight roughness in your touch, her head tilting back as a low, shuddering gasp escapes her. “Oh god… ow—” she pants, her voice trembling with the sheer need building within her. The rhythm intensifies, each slow, deliberate movement drawing out more of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Her hands twist into the sheets, her knuckles whitening as she struggles to hold on, each breath coming in gasps that grow heavier, more desperate.

“Oh—please… I—” Yoohyeon’s voice dissolves, her words reduced to a raw, pleading moan, every sound a testament to the sensations flooding her. The tension builds with every heartbeat, her entire body taut, alive, waiting for the release that hovers just out of reach. Her breaths quicken, her chest rising and falling as her muscles tense and release, the sensations coursing through her like an unstoppable wave.

Finally, the pressure breaks, and Yoohyeon cries out, her release overtaking her in an uncontrollable shudder. She clings to JiU burying her face, her body wracked by tremors as the pleasure spills over, leaving her breathless and utterly spent. Every fiber of her being surrenders in that moment, each shaky breath mingling with the warmth of JiU’s embrace, the sensation grounding her even as it sweeps her away.

JiU’s reaction is instinctual, immediate. The tremor that runs through Yoohyeon ripples into her, drawing a soft, satisfied moan from her lips. Her fingers tighten their hold in Yoohyeon’s hair as her own body responds, hips rocking forward involuntarily. JiU’s chest rises and falls, her breaths quickening as she lets the feeling sweep over her, each wave drawing her deeper into the haze of pleasure. Her eyes flutter shut, her body quivering in sync with Yoohyeon’s, as if the intensity of the moment binds them in a shared heartbeat.

The sight, the sound, the very essence of their shared surrender sparks something deeper within you—a visceral need to take Yoohyeon higher, to push her beyond the limits of what she thought possible. Your rhythm builds again, driven by a primal, possessive urge, every thrust maxing out her climax. Yoohyeon’s body responds, muscles clenching and releasing in waves as she’s drawn into a rhythm beyond her control. Her breath catches, her chest heaving as her mind dissolves in a swirl of raw sensation.

With each movement, Yoohyeon’s cries become sharper, her body more sensitive than ever before. Her back arches, her hands digging in the soft flesh of Jiu's thighs as her body shakes with the intensity.

The room fills with the sound of ragged breathing, punctuated by gasps and whispered pleas, a harmony of sensations that wraps around the three of you, Yoohyeon cries out one last time, her body numb and hurting, leaving her breathless, completely undone.

As you withdraw, JiU shifts upright, her gaze falling downward—and freezing when she notices the larger strap combined with the small tears threatening to fall of Yoohyeon's eyes. Surprise and disappointment flicker across her expression as she looks back at you, slowly shaking her head.

“Hey,” she says, her voice firm. “Why did you use that? She chose the smaller one for a reason.” Her eyes are steady and narrowing “You, of all people, should know to respect that.”

Guilt flashes across your face as JiU’s gentle reprimand settles over you. With an unspoken authoritative aura, she guides both you and Yoohyeon to lie side-by-side, her gaze warm but unyielding, making it clear who holds control. Her presence fills the room, and as her fingers trace along your thighs in light, teasing patterns, there’s an undeniable air of anticipation.

“Now,” JiU murmurs, eyes glinting with playful satisfaction. “I think it’s time for a lesson.” Her touch slows, one hand finding Yoohyeon’s core with a steady rhythm, each movement precise, deliberate, as her fingers trace patterns that leave Yoohyeon shivering and breathless. But her other hand on you is painstakingly slow, her fingertips drifting with an almost unbearable lightness, just enough to stir, to leave you squirming in anticipation.

Yoohyeon lets out a soft whimper, her body instinctively arching into JiU's touch as her fingers skim over the sensitive skin of her thigh. “JiU… please,” she whispers, her voice breathless, eyes locked onto her with raw intensity.

JiU’s smile deepens, a gleam of satisfaction in her gaze as her fingers linger just shy of where Yoohyeon craves her touch. “Patience.” she murmurs, her tone a blend of affection and control. “If I go too fast it will hurt you,”

Her attention shifts to you, her fingers tracing agonizingly slow circles along your thigh, light enough to make you squirm. "Minji..." Your voice is a soft, needy plea as your hands grip the sheets. "Please... can you go faster."

A low chuckle escapes JiU's lips, her smile widening. “You don’t get to ask, honey,” she teases, leaning close, her voice a soft murmur that sends a thrill through you. “Not after how you treated our guest today. An apology is in order.”

Her touch remains deliberate, shifting seamlessly between you and Yoohyeon. Every time Yoohyeon's breath hitches or her body tenses, JiU keeps her rhythm steady. Meanwhile, her hand on you moves with excruciating slowness, each featherlight stroke teasing but withholding satisfaction. The effect is intoxicating—leaving you both simmering, each touch drawing you further into her control.

“Faster” Yoohyeon’s voice fades into a moan, her body taut with need, each pause becoming a delicious ache.

Your own breaths quicken, and just when your eyes flutter closed, teetering on the brink, JiU withdraws again with a soft chuckle, her gaze amused as she watches the flush deepen on your face. "Minji… please, I'm sorry." you whisper, voice tinged with desperation.

JiU meets your gaze, her expression both warm and teasing as she cups your chin, directing your focus toward Yoohyeon. “Apologize to her not me and I might consider.” she says softly, her voice carrying an unmistakable command.

Turning to Yoohyeon, you search her face, a rush of sincerity coloring your voice. “Yoohyeon… I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “I never meant to hurt you.” The words linger, filled with unspoken emotion.

Yoohyeon’s expression softens, her cheeks flushed as her hand reaches to rest on yours. “It’s okay,” she whispers, her voice tender. “It hurt at first, but… I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good.”

A hint of satisfaction flickers across JiU’s face, and she rewards Yoohyeon’s patience with a deeper touch, her fingers moving with intent, coaxing Yoohyeon’s body to respond. Yoohyeon gasps, her breaths quickening as she arches under JiU’s steady rhythm, her need apparent as she sinks into the sensation.

JiU’s gaze shifts to you, her eyes softening in approval as she nods, encouraging you to join in. You lean closer to Yoohyeon, hands gently finding her chest, your touch warm and tender as you trace soft circles over her skin. Yoohyeon’s breath catches, her body responding instinctively to the combined attention, her gaze meeting yours with gratitude and excitement.

You lower your lips to her collarbone, your kisses trailing down to her chest, every gentle press designed to bring her pleasure. Yoohyeon’s soft moans blend with the rhythm of JiU’s movements, each sound spurring you to deepen your touch, your fingers grazing her with reverence.

JiU’s hand remains steady on Yoohyeon, her fingers coaxing her closer to the edge, guiding her with the perfect rhythm as she murmurs, “Let go, Yoohyeon. Feel everything… don’t hold back.” The warmth in her voice is a reassurance, a command, urging Yoohyeon to release.

Yoohyeon’s hands find yours, her fingers entwined as she clutches at you, her breaths coming in gasps as her body arches, giving herself over to the sensations. Your lips move against her skin, each kiss, each touch drawing her closer. She tenses, her voice breaking into soft cries, her body finally reaching its peak.

With a shuddering breath, Yoohyeon succumbs, her hands clutching you tightly as each wave overtakes her, her soft moans filling the air as she finds release. Her breaths come heavy, and she melts into your arms, her eyes fluttering open, her gaze meeting yours with gratitude and affection. JiU’s smile deepens, pride evident in her expression as you both hold Yoohyeon through each tremor, your touch a steady, reassuring presence.

With a kiss to Yoohyeon’s cheek, JiU murmurs, “Do you want a sneak peek of our next video?” Her voice is soft yet brimming with excitement, and Yoohyeon’s eyes light up, nodding weakly as she savors the warmth of the moment.

JiU’s hands are steady and sure as she gently positions you and Yoohyeon face-to-face, her calm assurance guiding you into place. She eases your legs apart, leaving you open in front of Yoohyeon’s wide-eyed gaze. Her touch drifts lower, fingers moving with precision, each rhythmic stroke pulling you closer to the edge. Her other hand finds your breast, expertly toying with the pierced nipple, the cool metal sending a delightful shiver against your warmth. Your head tips back, breaths coming in quicker under her skilled, steady touch.

Yoohyeon’s gaze remains locked, her eyes unblinking as she absorbs each nuanced motion. Breath shallow and body still, she is captivated by the energy between you and JiU, as if it wraps around her like a charged current. Her heartbeat quickens, matching the rhythm JiU sets—each precise stroke, each deliberate tug that draws soft gasps from your lips. With every shift in JiU’s movements, Yoohyeon feels herself drawn further into the moment, as if JiU’s touch extends through the room’s tension, reaching her too.

JiU’s focus sharpens, her touch unwavering as her fingers move inside you with unyielding intent, guiding you with each practiced stroke to the edge. Her fingers curl to explore your most sensitive places, igniting a powerful current that travels through your entire body. Instinctively, your hand clings to her arm, a silent plea for release as you surrender to her control, every wave of sensation coursing through you under her skilled guidance.

"Cum... now!" JiU whispers as she simultaneously give you a soft bite on your neck. The words sink in, reverberating through you, unlocking a raw tension that has been building. Her command—firm yet filled with tenderness—becomes the final spark that tips you over, dissolving the last of your resistance as her presence anchors you in place.

Under JiU’s expert guidance, a tidal wave of sensation floods your body, each nerve heightened, every inch alive. The world blurs as every part of you surrenders to the crescendo building within. Your back arches, helpless against the surge, muscles taut as your head falls back, eyes closed, and a sharp, unrestrained cry escapes your lips. 

The pleasure is unstoppable, a wave that crests and breaks with a fierceness that consumes you entirely. It rushes through your body, an intense warmth that spills outward, flowing down to Yoohyeon, who lies below, a willing recipient of your shared experience. She gasps as the intimate liquid reaches her, coating her chest and stomach with the evidence of your release. Some of your juices even reaches her mouth, allowing her to taste the sweet and salty essence of you

For a heartbeat, Yoohyeon is frozen, mesmerized by the fluid that seeps into her skin, filling her with an exhilaration that is both grounding and electrifying. The room itself seems to hold its breath, thick with the shared intensity surrounding you all. Every sound, every heartbeat is amplified in this suspended moment, creating a symphony of sensation that envelops the space.

Yoohyeon's chest rises and falls with ragged, soft breaths, each inhale pulling in the lingering scent that coats her. Her gaze stays fixed on you, lips parted, eyes glistening with awe. Her flushed skin a testament to the power of your pleasure. The energy is unrestrained, enveloping her and leaving her equally breathless, equally awestruck by the intensity of the moment.

JiU, the maestro of this symphony, watches with a satisfied smile, her hands steadying you with soothing touches as she gently lowers you from the heights of your climax. She leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. Then, with a gentleness that belies the strength of her presence, she brushes a few damp strands from Yoohyeon's flushed face. Her gaze is warm, filled with pride and affection for both of you—her protégés in the art of pleasure.

“Better not spoil that for any other fans,” JiU murmurs, a playful note in her voice, her gaze lingering fondly on the shared connection filling the room.

With a final, gentle reverence, JiU leans down, her lips trailing soft, intimate kisses over every inch touched by your release. Each kiss feels like a blessing, a quiet act of devotion that fills the room with a serene warmth. Her lips linger on Yoohyeon’s flushed skin, delicate yet deliberate, as though committing each moment to memory. Yoohyeon’s eyes flutter closed, savoring the tenderness. 

JiU then turns her attention to you, her touch unhurried, as if there’s all the time in the world. Her hands drift over your skin, fingers grazing softly, leaving warmth in their wake. There’s an unspoken affection in her gaze, her touch, a quiet promise that the intimacy shared tonight isn’t fleeting. As she presses a final, featherlight kiss to your lips, you feel a sense of completion, a fullness that settles deeply within.

Eventually, as the moment’s glow begins to settle into a gentle stillness, JiU helps you and Yoohyeon gather your things. Her hands are soft and unhurried, fingers brushing with care as she smooths tousled hair and adjusts clothing, each touch infused with a lingering tenderness. Every gesture feels like a quiet vow, an intention to hold on to the intimacy woven between you all tonight. Her knowing smile catches yours and Yoohyeon’s in turn, a silent acknowledgment of the closeness you now share.

When fully dressed, your hand instinctively finds Yoohyeon’s. Her fingers wrap around yours in a gentle yet steadying grip, her legs still a bit shaky as she stands beside you. Her gaze meets yours, and then drifts back to JiU, whose warm expression seems to say it all—a quiet pride in the bond she’s nurtured tonight.

As Yoohyeon steadies herself, gathering her belongings, she steps slowly toward the door, each movement deliberate, her legs still a little unsteady from the shared closeness. Just as her hand reaches the handle, JiU places a hand on her shoulder, leaning close with a playful glint in her eyes. “Maybe next time, you could make a little cameo in one of our videos,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice carrying a lighthearted warmth.

Yoohyeon’s cheeks flush, but there’s a newfound ease in her smile as she meets JiU’s gaze, sharing a glance with you as well. Her eyes sparkle, holding a quiet thrill as she nods, voice soft yet brimming with promise. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replies, warmth threading through her words.

Stepping outside, the cool night air greets her like a gentle embrace, grounding and refreshing her. She walks slowly down the path, her heart fluttering, her steps still a bit tentative but full of joy, as though she’s carrying a spark of the night with her. Her smile lingers as she reaches her door, realizing with a soft chuckle that she won’t be needing her binoculars or her phone anymore. There’s no more distance to bridge, no more glances from afar—only the closeness she now holds deeply, a warmth that will linger long after the night fades.

[zeninslut]

Three strikes, you're (not going) out!

Tw:  fem!reader, smut, rough sex, drug use (weed), vague descriptions of being high, high sex, needy!Toji, kinda mean!toji, Porn with (minor) plot. Dumbification(?) Thumb in butt, squirting, no use of y/n, minor mentions of scent kink, use of daddy, degradation. 18+ MDNI

Wordcount: 3.5k 

An: Hi guys, ah I'm so nervous as this is my first work so please go easy on me. If you write and you read this I’m always open to constructive criticism :) jus please PLEASE inbox me instead i get embarrassed easily. Also, this fic was inspired by @satorena ‘s  "& drip till we soak the bed " which I enjoyed reading if you couldn't tell so take a look at that. The reader is black coded. Actually, this whole fic is as I am a black girl myself.  also grammar isn't really my thing, i used grammarly but thats about all you're getting from me. I really enjoyed writing this and honestly, I can see myself doing this a lot more often so if you have any suggestions lmk! I’ll probably make a more formal post about that but without further ado:

Truth be told you don’t know how you got here, a couple minutes ago you were just adding on finishing touches to your makeup and spraying yourself with your “good girl” perfume by Carolina Herrera. You were way overdue for a girls’ night with Shoko and honestly, you needed this.

Since dating Toji, he has you stuck in the house all day even when he was busy working. Not letting you leave unless he comes with you like he’s your guard dog. Leaving you to stay at home since he took a gig that was able to retire you and himself but he still likes to work so he doesn’t feel too lazy.

 He doesn’t work that often but his jobs have him gone for a while at a time. Every time he comes home to you, he’s such a big baby. He had just gotten home from a gig a couple days ago too. Needing nothing but you, he smothers you right where you lay on the couch despite your protests of him being dirty (may have not showered for 5 days but when you’re a hitman, you gotta weigh your priorities). He doesn't care, all he needs is you. After a couple times, you get used to it, even developing a thing for his natural musk.

You play with his hair pressing soft kisses on his forehead occasionally using the opportunity to smell his scalp as he lays on your soft plush body. He loves to spend his days off being with you, accompanying you with the smallest of tasks. When you ask him why he likes being around when you’re reading a book he just tells you to go back to reading but truth be told, you quiet his mind. Even without saying anything, your presence puts him at peace allowing his mind to rest from all the turmoil inside.

When Toji comes back from a gig it normally means you won't be leaving anytime soon and if you do, he’s standing right beside you in all his massive glory. So when he walked in you knew you needed to get away fast before he caught- 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he asked with the usual arrogant smirk on his face as he takes in the sight of you in this enticing dress (strike one). you notice the already lit blunt in his hand as the wedding cake smoke clouds fill the bathroom quickly. He stands behind you and gazes at you in the mirror as he takes a hit. You can practically hear the thoughts that fill his head as he leaves the blunt on his lips and starts to play with your ass. One hand on your back pressing and bending you into a pretty little arch for him. “ Tojiiiii please I have to meet Shoko I haven't seen her in weeks…” you beg him with pleading doe eyes and he almost immediately feels his dick twitch (strike two). “ aww yea?” he asks and you can hear the mockery in his voice already. “ you so fuckin pretty mama, Shoko needa see you all dolled up like this?” he says smoothly while practically eye fucking you. He finally tears his eyes off your plush fat ass to meet your gaze in the mirror.

His heavy vermin eyes bore into you with predatory hunger, he looked like he could eat you up and he truly was contemplating it. Especially after he got a whiff of your perfume, his absolute favorite. But he didn't think that you deserved it, oh no especially not after you tried to sneak off in this slutty ass dress without telling him.

It’s not like telling him would have changed anything though. He has no problem letting you get all dolled up before events so he could absolutely ruin you right as you leave. He just can't help himself. 

He presses himself into you not breaking eye contact “You tryna leave me already baby?” he says charmingly as he feels his eyes get heavier and heavier from the weed.  He begins to grind his fat heavy dick between your soft asscheeks slipping back and forth between them in the tight silky fabric of your dress. “ I missed you though mama..” he whispers in your ear as he pulls you up to press his larger front half into your smaller back half. He takes the blunt out his mouth to plant delicate kisses all over your neck and collarbone.  “ Toji…” you whine again “please? I’ll be a good girl and I’ll be back before it gets really late so we can watch snowfall like you like to…” (strike three, you’re out!) 

You were just so cute thinking that you would get out of this especially after you referred to yourself as a “good girl”. 

Aww, what a cutie bringing up my fav show like that… calling herself a good girl. yea imma make sure she real good fa me  He thinks to himself. 

Maybe he would’ve let you go if he wasn’t high (chances would be slim to none but better than your chances now) but how could he? He always got so affectionate and horny when he got high even though his body is way stronger than the average human male. Which is crazy because already has the sex drive of a rabbit. “Yea?” he asks pressing your whole body into the bathroom counter. His hands find purchase on your bare back as the dress was backless. He tugs on the Gucci thong (courtesy of him btw) you're wearing the fuck? his eye twitches, and all hopes of salvation are absolutely demolished as he smirks evilly but you can't even see him as he presses your head onto the counter.

Of course she tries to leave in this slutty ass outfit without me, what the hell wrong with this girl? then she got the nerve to look at me like that like my dick not already hard. She just makes this too easy for me and way harder on herself 

“Give me a lil show and maybe just MAYBE I'll have mercy on you tonight” he lies. His fingers find your hair and pull you up to look at him in the mirror. You sigh as you feel his other hand lift your dress up but honestly, you love this. You both knew he was lying but you couldn’t help but play into it. You love how he can’t get enough of you, especially in his high daze. You feel the tip of his clothed dick prod against the thin fabric barely covering your fat puffy folds. You rub your fat ass all over his heavy length feeling it get harder and harder by the second. His breathing becomes deeper as he holds the blunt in his hand. You place your hand on his bare abs. “ let me hit it” you say looking back at him straight in the eyes referring to the blunt and you feel his dick twitch under you. Yea, it’s safe to say Shoko was not seeing you tonight. 

Now that you think about it you know exactly how your slutty ass got here, standing on your tippy toes, throwing your fat ass back on your man and his hefty dick. He watches in awe, blunt trapped between his lips, lost in the waves. He loved when you did the work for him honestly, your slick warm cunny milking him for everything he’s got left, he could stay like this forever and he really wanted to. Full you up nice and full and send you on your merry way to Shoko but he knew you would be tired after he was done for you. Shit, you might even be tired now he thinks when he feels you abruptly stop.

He furrows his eyebrows as his eyes meet your tear-stained ones in the mirror and he feels his dick twitch and throb. He knows he’s a sick man, getting off to you crying from exhaustion but he truly can’t help himself. He really is a sadist at heart. Every time he feels like he can’t get harder he does. He puts out the blunt before placing both his hands on the arch of your back 

“aww my slutty baby getting tired huh? you wanna cum don’t you?” he asks lowly and you only nod in response as your legs shake. He kisses his teeth and lands a heavy smack on your ass which makes you jolt with him still inside of you “words mama, you need to use your words” he says as glares at you in the mirror. “yes daddy hmph, I wanna cum please” you beg your eyes not leaving his. “then fucking take it and make yourself cum all over this dick. Who told you to stop he fuck? You think yo lil ass in charge now?” he spits at you harshly and lands another smack on your ass as he feels you flutter around him. He knows exactly what to say to get you going. You whimper but get on your tippy toes again working towards your orgasm. “ that’s it, there you go mama. This yo dick pretty girl.” you moan loudly feeling your walls clench around him from his words. He smirks knowing that he will forever have you in his grasp by that smooth ass mouth of his. “damn baby you taking me so well… So deep too. you better make a fucking mess on this dick too. Fuckkk, look at you, already wetting it up. ” he groans lowly as he stares at where you guys connect and glare back at you in the mirror.

His gaze is tense and unwavering watching your face contort from the pleasurable pain of impaling yourself on his dick. You practically saw hearts in his eyes from the way he looked at you. You feel your face grow hot as you look away feeling embarrassed from the intimacy. As you look away you feel his big hand cup the entirety of your face and force your gaze to meet his.

You swear you can hear him say “ look at me “ but his mouth remains closed as he makes sure you understand. 

“youn wanna look at me no more?” he asks with fake sadness “I don't give a single fuck. look at me while you use my cock. I’m so deep inside you, I can feel that cervix. You’re doing that baby, You know that?” he then works his hand to your throat and grabs it to use it as leverage to press your body firmly against his. He fights the urge to take control as you continue to work yourself back onto him.” you the one that got me digging me in you like this. Such a slut taking me this deep yea? You feeling me baby?” he asks you with incredible finesse and you were in fact feeling him, digging you out due to your own doing.

Each thrust backwards being met with a delicious pleasure forming a knot building in your stomach. “ cause I'm feeling you, so warm and tight. You feel so good baby” he moans to you without shame. “ooo shitttt, I feel you baby”’ you moan loudly feeling your body give out to the sensation of being full.  “you like that huh? You like that I can feel your insides warming me up and begging me not to leave? Don’t worry my pretty girl, I'm not going anywhere and neither are you.” you moan loudly at his words feeling yourself get closer with each thrust backward. You feel your legs shake and your feet cramping as you get closer to your orgasm. “that's it, use me. Make yourself cream all over this dick and I promise imma make you squirt on it next” he all but begs you. Your eyes are torn away from him as they roll back to your head. You fuck yourself back onto him through your orgasm, creaming on him with a loud cry. 

 You genuinely cannot continue fucking him but you still need him inside you so your actions slow to a stop and he pulls himself out of you “Toji? ” you look back at the Greek god-like physique of the man behind you in desperation. He stares at your pretty pussy for a min as you whine for him. “Beg.” he says now slapping his fat cock head on your clit making you jolt. You reach your hand behind you to hold and stroke his cock, taping it on your entrance too hoping he will give in but every time you try to slide him in, he pulls away. When that doesn’t work you get frustrated resorting to the brat he knows all too well.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what? Like seriously. You already ruined my night out and god knows when I will get the chance to see the fucking sun again since you like to hold me captive for decades at a time” you say annoyed as you glare at him through the mirror. His face holds something unreadable and that should’ve been your sign to stop talking but oh what the hell, you’re already here now. You smirk maliciously as the next words leave your mouth. “Or are you just so damn high that you can’t even handle me right now? You’re such a baby. I smoked more of that blunt than you did, you fucking lightweight. You need a nap baby boy?” your words are laced with unmistaken condescendence. 

He opens the bathroom drawer next to you and grabs the candle lighter, relighting the blunt. “fucking finish this shit. I’m not fucking playing with you either, you better take everything I give you” looks you dead back in your eyes and by the tone of his voice, he has had enough of your bullshit tonight. You take it from him and follow his orders, hitting it while he fixes your arch nice and deep for him. “ and you better keep this fucking arch too because if I have to fix it for you, you won’t like it.” he grumbles angrily as he lines himself up at your entrance again. “can’t handle you right now? That weak-ass sorry-ass arch you had throwing that shit back to me, you lucky I’m in love with yo sexy ass.” he fires back at you. He was lying though, he definitely was mesmerized at the way you moved your perfect body even when he was the one so deep so deep inside you. He throws his head back and rolls his neck and you can only brace yourself for what happens next. It all happens so fast. 

Soul-crushing and spine-shattering couldn’t even describe it.

The roach of the blunt remains in your hand, your eyes roll back and your mouth stays agape in pure ecstasy as Toji fastly thrusts into you. He gives you fast, hard strokes as his girth fills you up hitting all the right places. “ Do I need a nap??? Do you know who the fuck I am?” he boasts as he drives his body into yours. Between damn near finishing that blunt and the rough treatment from Toji, you were genuinely on cloud nine.

Repetitive moans left your mouth that could only be described as lewd. He leans back and smirks looking at the mess of a brat he made. His eyes find your puckering hole and he smiles to himself. He can’t even fight off the thoughts of making you his favorite bowling ball. 

You on the other hand can’t even understand what this man is doing to you before his thumb is in your mouth. “wet this shit up fa me yea? Can you do that fa me baby?” he asks you with a saccharine tone. You are like putty in his hands, all cute and pliant for him. He watches you lustfully as you suck his thumb and spit on it heavily.  He then uses both of his hands to spread you wide for him before spitting a glob onto the tight ring of your ass. He thumbs the hole, feeling it flutter underneath his touch practically inviting him in. He grins cockily at the visual, he already knows this is your favorite trick of his. You whimper as he swirls his thumb around the hole teasing you. He knows this is just what you need to throw you over the edge. “ you want it in your butt huh?” he looks at you once again through the mirror but you can't even meet his eyes, only moaning the word yes over and over again. He decides to have mercy on you but still doesn’t spare you the hard time. He sinks his fat thumb into your asshole and almost immediately he feels you clamping down on him. 

“What a slut. You a butt slut baby?” he asks you finding your reaction too funny. Who would know his perfect girlfriend likes to have her pretty tight asshole played with. He moves his thumb around in your ass using it as a hook to fuck you deeper and you all but moan at the stimulation.  “say it, say you're my dumb butt slut” he commands.

Honestly, he doesn’t need to hear this, he just wants to see how far you gone you are and he truly finds out how lost you are when you scream about how much you love when he puts his thumb in your butt proclaiming over and over again that you are in fact his stupid butt slut. He laughs to himself while doing his finishing move. He begins to move his thumb in and out of your tight hole feeling it hold onto him while his other hand moves to your clit. He starts rubbing rapid fast circles and quickly your legs buckle beneath you being caught by the counter. 

Your feet are above ground as he fucks you harder and rougher. He’s really fucking you into the counter at this point and you are loving every single second of it. Pornographic is the only word that can describe the sounds coming from the bathroom and even that would be an understatement. Your vision becomes blotchy as he works your body. Your legs are close together and shaking while the ever-forming knot in your stomach gets ready to release. Even though Toji is really putting that work in, he’s coming close to his release as well. Your pretty slick cunt giving him a run for his money like always. He can feel you clenching tighter and tighter as he feels himself inside you through the tissue separating your pussy and ass and he almost cums right there. He can never understand how you take him so well, the visual of both your holes being stuffed forms a desire in his mind that can only be described as animalistic.

"you boutta cum baby?” He questions you a couple of seconds before your release but he already knows the answer. “ cum all on this dick so I can fill you up and you gotta stay inside with me forever.” his words through you over the edge as well as him suddenly pulling his thumb that was so deep in your ass out, making you squirt all over his hefty length in a loud shriek.

The visual of you squirting around him and your fluttering asshole makes his release find him earlier than anticipated as he shoots his hot thick ropes of cum inside you with the most guttural moans you had heard in a while. He stays inside you softening and then pulls out slowly, plugging you back up with his fingers. He needs to make sure it stays in. You moan at the overstimulation but you don't protest smiling hazily as he enjoys your fucked out expression. 

You feel him planting gentle kisses down your back praising you for taking him so well. He then pulls his fingers out bringing them to your mouth to lick, lifts your dress back down, and puts the thong back on you despite your weak shaking legs and overfilling cunt quickly leaking through the fabric of it. He leaves for a second and you look at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. Hair and makeup all fucked up. He comes back into your field of vision holding car keys. 

“ I’ll drop you off at Shoko’s place c'mon” he smirks admiring his work.

He knew damn well… 

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH🦅

[mymindisneverhere]

FAVORS (18+)

Part Three

warnings: 18+, MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, lots of dialogue, slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

Part One | Part Two

Terry stood in the large living room, looking at himself in the full body mirror as he tightened his tie. He stared at this version of himself for a long minute. He wasn’t the tuxedo wearing type but he had to admit it didn’t look bad on him. 

Khloé had managed to hire the perfect tailor to be sure the tux would fit just right. Terry spent hours being measured, trying on different jackets and pants, and walking back and forth to ensure comfort while wearing the tux. 

She was there for every moment of it, taking him in each time he removed a shirt and replaced it with a different one. She noticed the scar on his back near his right shoulder. She wanted so badly to ask him about being shot but she decided not to. She assumed that would be too much of a sensitive subject and she didn’t want to go that route.  

Terry looked down at his watch, a simple black watch that had to be approved by Khloé of course. He was big on being punctual as well, so he made sure to keep up with time even when Khloé wasn’t. 

“Your car is down stairs, everything is set and ready to go.” Olivia said, walking into the living room. 

Terry turned to face her unsure of who she was talking to. 

“I’m driving?” 

“Yes sir, a luxury sedan has been rented for the evening. Ms. MacArthur prefers not to have drivers, she’s very strict on privacy.” Olivia spoke quickly. “The destination is already in the GPS for you. The directions will begin as soon as you pull off.” 

“Thank you.” Terry nodded and proceeded to take a seat on the large sectional sofa. He looked down at his phone, reading the messages that were pouring in from Summer. 

‘A $16,000 check just came in the mail, I know you had something to do with it!!’

‘I can’t accept this, how am I going to pay it back?’ 

‘This is too good to be true, call me as soon as you can!’ 

He was so focused on the text messages, he didn’t notice Khloé enter the room until the scent of soft florals hit his nostrils.  

“How do I look?” She asked, staring at him, a bit of innocence in her voice. 

He eyed her, starting from her feet and making his way up to the crown of her head. The long red dress she wore accentuated her hips and brought in her waist. The details were subtle but didn’t go unnoticed by Terry. The strapless dress lifted her breasts, bringing out the natural shape of them. Her hair was pinned in a beautiful updo with a few pieces framing her face, a soft curl in each. And to top it all off her signature red lip, which was clearly her favorite… and his. 

The longer he stared, the more she felt herself wanting to shrink a bit but she did her best to remain unmoved. He hardly ever wore his emotions on his sleeve so reading him was becoming a bit of a challenge for her. The nervous feeling quickly began to fade as she saw his expression soften. 

“You look beautiful.” He stood. “Red fits you perfectly.” 

She smiled at him. 

“Well let’s go, I really don’t wanna be late.” She said, grabbing her small clutch purse. “My mother won’t let me hear the last of it.” 

They headed to the lobby of the condominium. As they passed through, they earned a few stares. People couldn’t help but to turn their attention to the two of them. Khloé strutting across the floor, Terry not too far behind her. They both had very demanding auras and together their energies swarmed the room without warning. 

“I have a question.” Terry said. 

“Ask.” 

“Is this something I need to get used to?” Terry questioned, referring to the looks they received a while ago. 

“Absolutely.” She smiled up at him. 

Their car was parked in front, a young man wearing a valet jacket stood by to be sure the car went untouched. The glossy black sedan sat already running, headlights shining bright. 

Without her needing to say anything, Terry walked ahead of her and opened the passenger door, waiting for her to climb in. 

“Ooh,” She started. “Keep it up and you might earn yourself a treat.” 

Terry smirked, trying his hardest to hide his amusement. He got into the driver's seat and adjusted the seat to his liking, scooting it back until he had the proper leg room. 

“A few things I need to go over before we get there.” She began. “If anyone asks where we met, we met on vacation.” 

“How long have we been together?” He asked, putting the gear in drive and pulling off. 

“6 months. Tell them you’re in real estate. They’re gonna wanna know if you make enough money to be with me.” 

He looked over at her as they approached a red light. 

“My family only sees money, they believe that’s the only thing that’ll keep me happy. They don’t care about love or any emotions for that matter. As long as the money flows, they will mind their damn business.” She said looking over at him. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds until the bright traffic light went green. Khloé went on to tell him how he should go about speaking to her parents, what to say and what to do. She filled him in on the latest drama with her siblings and her cousins and made sure to tell him who to look out for and who to avoid at all costs. 

“Anything else I should know?” 

“Lastly, my cousin Nia. She’s a bitch. I hate her, she hates me. She’s been in competition with me since we were teenagers. I get a car, she gets a car, I get a diamond bracelet, she gets a diamond bracelet, I go to Harvard, bitch breaks her neck to go to Yale.” She pointed a stern finger to him. “You can mingle with anyone at the banquet but stay away from that sneaky bitch.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

The car ride the rest of the way was silent but the tension was impossible to ignore. Every now and then Khloé would sneak glances over at Terry while he drove, one hand on the wheel the other on his lap. She stared at his hands imagining what they’d feel like inside of her. Images of him playing in her pussy while he drove began flashing in her mind and she quickly tore her gaze from him.

He could feel her eyes on him but his expression never changed. If there was one thing he’d taken away from being a marine, it was keeping his poker face intact. There was no way she’d know what he was really thinking unless he decided to let it be known.  

“You have reached your destination.” 

They pulled up in front of the large banquet hall surrounded by guests and valet. Finally coming back into reality Khloé took a deep breath before exiting the car. 

“I got it.” Terry said, before she could grab the door handle. 

Khloé smiled to herself. ‘This one comes trained.’

He rounded the car and opened her door, placing his hand out for her to grab. She stepped out of the car and smiled at some of the guests who were entering the banquet the same time as her. 

“Ready?” She asked. 

“Ready.” 

They reached for each other's hands simultaneously, intertwining their fingers as they made their way into the building. The sound of soft music playing in the background filled their ears, along with light chatter from guests. 

They stopped at the double doors that were propped open, leading into the ballroom. Turning to him, she began fixing his tie, not that it needed fixing but to simply try and cover her nervousness. She tightened his tie, dusted his shoulders and tugged lightly on his collar. 

“I make you that nervous?” Terry smirked, staring down at her. 

“As pretty as your lips are, they're gonna keep you in trouble.” She smirked back. “Let’s enjoy the banquet.” 

Khloe held onto his arm as they entered the large ballroom. Each table was draped in white cloth, expensive tableware and champagne flutes. A large banner with the words “MacArthur Banquet” hung from the ceiling just above the small stage in the room. Khloé looked around the room taking in her surroundings. Unlike Terry, Khloé didn’t do that good of a job at hiding her emotions. 

She worried about what her parents' would think of her date. She’d hoped and prayed they wouldn’t go digging into his background to find out that not only is he a warehouse worker but that he’s also a bit of a rebel. 

“Princess!” Mr. MacArthur announced, snapping her of her thoughts. 

“Hi Daddy!” She ran to him, giving him a hug as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. 

She greeted the woman standing next to him, placing a kiss on her cheek as well. Terry stood, admiring how they embraced each other. It was clear to him that this was her mother, the woman was a spitting image of Khloé just a bit older. 

“It’s so good to see you, you look so beautiful.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled, holding onto her daughter's hand. 

Her father tore his eyes from her and they landed on Terry. “Who is this?” 

“Mom, Dad, this is Terrance.” Khloé stepped back to stand next to Terry, placing a hand on his arm. 

“Terrance this is my dad, John MacArthur and my mom Angela MacArthur.” 

“You got a last name Terrance?” Mr. MacArthur asked, placing his hand out for Terry to shake. 

“Terrance Richmond sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Terry responded, firmly shaking the man’s hand and then her mothers. 

“The pleasure is ours. It’s good to see she has someone keeping her company. I just hope you’re a strong and patient man, my Khloé can be a handful at times.” Mrs. MacArthur smiled up at him. She turned her gaze to her daughter, bringing her into another embrace. “Don’t screw this one over, okay? You don’t want to be old and alone.” 

Khloé clenched her jaw before replacing the menacing look with a fake grin. Mr. MacArthur and Mrs. MacArthur excused themselves from the two as they made their way around the room, greeting guests as they entered. 

Terry noticed the sudden change in Khloés expression no matter how hard she tried to disguise it. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“I’m fine.” She responded, running her hands down the length of her dress. “Let’s have a seat, they’re about to begin.” 

The family banquet began with greetings from Mr. and Mrs. MacArthur. The couple stood on stage thanking guests for joining them for another banquet and proceeded with their usual program. 

The banquet was yet another success as it had been for the past few years. There were small awards and acknowledgments being made all evening. From praises for large sales, increasing income and openings of new locations for the family business, the banquet had gone exactly as planned. 

However Terry couldn’t help but sense Khloés tense energy. It didn’t help that she had become a bit fidgety. Fixing her hair every 10 minutes, wiping invisible lent from his jacket and plastering an artificial smile on her face each time she would interact with the other guests. 

It wasn’t necessarily Terry's place to ask her about her relationship with her parents but he was very curious. He tried his hardest to remind himself of why he was even there to begin with. 

‘I’m doing her a favor, she’s doing me a favor.’ 

“I’m gonna go catch up with a few people, you’ll be alright by yourself won’t you?” She asked. 

“I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine.” He replied, taking a sip of water. 

“Stop testing me Mr. Richmond.” She warned, referring to his smart comment. 

He smiled, placing his glass back on the table. 

Khloé got up and made her way around the room for a bit, grabbing glasses of champagne as they were being offered to her. She mingled with family and friends, sharing memories of the past and hopes of the future. After a few glasses, she was really feeling the effects of the alcohol. A sudden boost of confidence washed over her, bringing her right back to her normal self. 

Remembering she had the finest gentleman in the room as her date, she wanted to make sure she was attending to him. She looked over to their table, hoping his eyes were already on her. Her excitement quickly faded once she noticed who he was talking to. 

“Excuse me, I hope I’m not being too forward but you are so handsome.” A woman said, causing Terry to look her way. 

She was tall, slim and snatched like a supermodel. She was a pretty woman but her style clashed with her looks. She wore a royal blue dress, bright gold accessories and red lipstick. Almost similar to Khloés but not quite. 

“Thank you.” He smiled humbly. 

“I’m Imani, I’m Khloés older cousin.” She held out her hand, palm facing down as if she was waiting for him to kiss it. 

He stared at it for a few seconds and decided to shake it instead. 

“Nice to meet you Imani, I’m Terrance.”

Imani laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Respecting your girlfriend I see, but I understand. I’m sure if she found out I was talking to you she’d lose her shit. She’s been in a silent competition with me since we were kids but she’s my little cousin so I’m flattered.” 

Terry nodded, allowing the woman to speak freely simply because he wasn’t interested in speaking to her at all. There was just something about her energy that wasn’t sitting right with him but he didn’t want to be entirely rude to her. After all, he was a guest at her family’s event. 

“Oops, I should go, she’s staring. Don’t wanna get you in any trouble. Enjoy the night handsome.” She said flipping her ponytail off of her shoulder and twisting her hips as hard as she could hoping he was watching. 

But his eyes met Khloés from across the room. She didn’t necessarily look pissed but she didn’t look too happy either. The look on her face was stern almost as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to. He quickly recalled the name of the person he was told not to mingle with. 

‘Nia.’ He thought to himself, shrugging because he was in the clear. 

He relaxed in his chair, sitting back and parting his legs from one another but she still hadn’t broken their gaze. It was as if they were communicating with one another without needing to say anything at all.

After a few moments, she smiled and made her way across the room to him.   

“Dance with me Mr. Richmond.” She stated, staring down at him through a tipsy gaze. 

Terry stood as she grabbed his hand and led them to the small dance floor. They joined a few other guests on the floor as well. Some were relatives of Khloés, others just friends of the family. 

Once they reached a secure spot, they embraced each other. Khloé wrapped her arms around his neck, silently thanking herself for wearing heels given his height. Terry’s hands snaked around her waist and they slowly swayed to the soft music. The longer they danced, the more Terry could feel Khloé slowly relaxing in his embrace. 

They rested their heads against the others, her forehead comfortable against this jaw. 

“Can I be honest with you?” Khloé asked.

“Of course.” 

“I didn’t tell you the full reason as to why I offered you the money to be my boyfriend.” She started. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“I mean yes I need you for events and to keep my family quiet but…” Her voice faded. 

“But?” 

She took a deep breath and told him all that he needed to know. 

“The truth is I want you in the worst way.”

She felt his jaw clench against her temple as she spoke.

“The moment I saw you, the things I began to see in my mind were so… vivid.” 

“What did you see?” He questioned, keeping his voice as low as possible. 

Khloés breath caught in her throat at his question. She thought her honesty would tear him from her. Her admitting that she was simply lusting after him should’ve bothered him but instead he leaned into it. 

“I imagined the view I’d have of you, from down on my knees. I imagined how much fun I would have edging you until you begged me to let you cum. I saw myself tying you to the bed and riding you for as long as I wanted.” 

Terry’s jaw clenched once more but he remained silent, still holding onto her waist.  

“You’d cum again and again and again.” The longer she spoke, the easier it was becoming to speak freely. 

She looked around the room to be sure no one was paying them any attention and she was right. They continued to sway back and forth to the soft music being played by the live band. She could feel his heartbeat increase as she held onto him. His breathing was steady but the rest of him was rising. 

“I felt bad at first because you seemed like a sweet and innocent guy. But in all honesty, I enjoy dominating men.” She admitted. “Not just any men but the ones who reek of dominance, men like you. The ones who walk around so unbothered, so unfazed. Always wearing a straight face because nothing can sway you. But I know you want to feel my lips around your dick. That’s why you get so stuck in a daze staring at them while I’m talking to you.” She spoke, her lips gently brushing against his neck.

Terry let out a deep breath but still remained silent. There was no need in denying any of what she was saying because all of it was true. 

“You know what I love the most about the male anatomy? It’s that no matter how much you try to hide it, no matter how still your expression is, I’ll always know how bad you want me.” She brought her hand to the back of his head and lowered it so her lips were level with his ear. 

“I can feel you through my dress.” She whispered. 

Terry tightened the hold he had on her waist, bringing her even closer to him. He was hoping that no one else would notice the “excitement” that she was feeling. Deep down, he wanted so desperately to drag her off the dance floor and find the nearest bathroom or utility closet, but he was at her command. He wouldn’t move until she gave the green light to do so. 

“Why are you so quiet Mr. Richmond, cat got your tongue?” She teased. 

“No ma’am, I just don’t have a lot to say right now. Only a couple of things I wanna do.” 

She giggled at his response. She had him exactly where she wanted him, craving her but unable to do anything about it. They were in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by dozens of people, there was no way he’d do anything to draw attention to the two of them. 

“I was looking forward to tasting you tonight but your behavior needs adjusting.”

Terry stood up straight, bringing his eyes to meet hers. 

“What’s wrong with my behavior?” He asked, his eyes shifting back and forth between hers. 

Before Khloé could respond, her mothers voice erupted through the speakers. Khloé turned to face the stage, pressing her back against his abdomen. She figured since she was the cause for his excitement the least she could do was help him conceal it. 

“Thank you all so much for another successful MacArthur banquet! Congratulations to all of the recipients of tonight’s awards.” Mrs. MacArthur spoke into the mic. “We love to see our family and friends grow in business, in love and in prosperity as the years go by.” 

Everyone applauded as she made her closing announcements. 

“Don’t forget to grab a goodie bag on the way out and please drive home safely. We will see you all next year, goodnight and God bless!” 

Khloé turned to grab her things from their table, she said her goodbyes to her family and made her way to the car. Terry was right behind her, replaying the night in his mind. He did just as he was told, interacting with little to no guests and speaking when spoken to. So what was she talking about?

“Do you have the ticket for valet?” Khloé asked him a bit nonchalantly. 

Terry dug into his pocket and handed the ticket to the man dressed in a red jacket. Within a few minutes their car was pulled to the front of the hall. Terry opened the door for her and then made his way to the driver's side. 

“What was wrong with my behavior tonight?” Terry asked, looking over at her. 

“Just drive please.” She spoke softly, not even bothering to look over at him. 

Terry took a deep breath before pulling away from the curb. They made their way back into the streets of downtown. The ride was silent once again. Terry was racking his brain trying to figure out what she was talking about but nothing was coming to the surface. Khloé sat quietly, not planning on telling him what he did wrong until they were back at her place. 

“You have reached your destination.” 

Terry unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the car. A few seconds later, he opened Khloés door and waited for her to step out. He handed the keys to the valet and they made their way into the building. Khloé walked a few feet ahead of him, enjoying the feeling of having this grown man following behind her everywhere she went. 

Khloé pressed the button to call the elevator and stepped inside once the doors opened. Terry pressed the button marked ‘30’ and they sat silently for the majority of the ride up to her condo. 

“When we get upstairs, take off your jacket and dress shirt and wait for me in the living room.” Khloé instructed, keeping her eyes forward. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“30th floor” 

The two made their way down the long hall and entered her home. Terry did as he was asked and placed his clothes on the arm of the couch. He took a seat, only dressed in his undershirt and pants. While Khloé was off in her room, he took this time to respond to Summers' messages letting her know that he’d be by to explain everything to her. 

Khloé stepped into her bathroom to remove her dress. She wore a black panty and bra set underneath, already prepared for the night. She grabbed her black satin robe and slipped into it, not bothering to remove her heels. Taking one last look in the mirror to be sure she looked good, she made her way into the living room. 

“Stand when I enter the room.” She spoke, causing Terry’s head to snap up. 

He stood from the couch and eyed her from head to toe. Her body was heavent sent. Decorated in lace fabric, her skin slightly glistened from the mixture of body shimmer and the soft lighting in the room. His dick began growing in his pants again as she stood there staring at him. 

“Come.” She said, pointing her finger to a spot directly in front of her. 

Terry walked around the small coffee table, slowly approaching her until the top of their shoes were almost touching. She loved that he towered over her even in her heels. As intimidating as he could be at times, she enjoyed the fact that she was the one truly in charge.  

“Before I start, you do get a say in this, I’m not a completely inconsiderate bitch.” She started. “If you don’t want to do this just say so and I’ll call it off.” 

“Did you hear me say that?” He asked. There was that smart ass mouth again. 

Khloé smirked at his question. “I need your consent Mr. Richmond.” 

“You have my consent Ms. MacArthur.” He stared down at her with a sly grin on his face. 

“You’re familiar with these right?” Khloé held up a pair of handcuffs, loosely dangling off of her fingers. 

Terry let out a light chuckle, still keeping his eyes on hers. 

“Turn around.” She instructed. 

Terry did as he was told. 

This was the first time she was seeing him nearly undressed, up close like this. Her eyes roamed from his freshly cut hair, down to the back of his neck and landed on his broad shoulders. She licked her lips as her eyes continued down the length of his toned arms, and finally landed on his ass. She held her breath as she tried to restrain herself from saying “fuck it” and pouncing on him. 

“You gone spank me for being a bad boy?” He joked sarcastically, bringing her back to the present. 

“You’re not funny. Besides I don’t like to cause pain, at least not in that way.” She answered, placing the cuffs around his wrists and clicking them closed. She grabbed his arm and walked him to the end of the sofa. She turned him round until he faced her and took a few steps back. 

They stared at each other for a while. There was no need to speak because the amount of hunger in the room from both parties spoke volumes. Terry stood tall, hands behind his back, eyes low and rested on hers. The wifebeater he wore almost clung to him the way his toned body filled the thin fabric. Terry waited patiently for her next command, his expression remaining as calm as ever. 

The only sound in the room was their breathing. Khloé stood there secretly hoping that this would be her last partner or simply one that could last her a very long time. She doubted that she’d ever come across someone else who was crafted as perfectly as he was. His body, his voice, his eyes, his whole damn face and especially those damn lips. She only hoped that his skills in bed matched his looks. 

“On your knees.” 

to be continued… 

[hoonieyun]

collecting tears - heeseung

jar of tears that were shed for heeseung

lee heeseung x reader "y/n"

genre: angst, situationship, unrequited love

warnings: kissing, suggestive, profanity, mentions of a dead parent, overall 18+

summary: your relationship with heeseung, if you could even call it that, has lasted for almost 3 years. 3 years you were at his beck and call and you were finally done. having convinced yourself that you didn't want to continue what you had with him even if you didn't necessarily believe that. to him it was casual but to you it meant everything.

We were goin' right, then you took a left Left me with a lot of shit to second-guess Guess I'll waste another year on wonderin' if If that was casual, then I'm an idiot sabrina carpenter - sharpest tool word count: 1401

Had it been any other person, you wouldn’t have stayed for so long, but something about Lee Heeseung just pulled you in. 

Three years of wasted time and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you were slowly chipping away at the hard exterior of Heeseung you were always met with, “You know I’m just not ready for something serious right now.” whenever you would bring up how you’d wish he would hold you as his girlfriend and not the girl that was just filling the empty space in his bed. 

“Hey, are you still up, love?” the text reads as your phone shines in your face. The clock says 2AM but to you it was time to crawl into his bed and to Heeseung it was time to call for someone to take up the empty space between his arms when he sleeps. You don’t even give yourself the time to try and convince yourself that you shouldn’t go before you’re behind the wheel of your car, pulling into Heeseung’s parking lot. The walk from your car to his apartment felt long, your heart drumming inside of your chest and with every step you took it pounded louder and louder as you arrived at his door. The pounding of your heart suddenly silences as you knock on the door and it almost instantly swings open; revealing a casual but handsome looking Heeseung. 

He was standing in his doorway, sweatpants hanging loose around his waist and his toned body being hugged by the black compression shirt he wore. A sight you saw quite often, his usual attire when you would come over and although simple, it definitely had an effect on you. Your mind instantly clearing of any worries or hesitation when you seem. 

“Hey…” Heeseung says and that simple three letter word held so much weight. 

It wasn’t just “Hey” it was: 

“I’m glad you’re finally here.” or…

“I’ve been waiting for you.” and…

“I need you in my arms right now.”

but it was never:

“Be mine.” or “I’m yours.” 

Heeseung takes your hand in his, guiding you to his bedroom but not before connecting your lips, mindlessly moving against one another as you kick his door closed and turn the lock. Navigating your way to his room with no worry because the two of you had memorized the path to his bedroom and you could get there with your eyes. Much like now, eyes closed as your lips connected. 

Past the dining room where his leftover takeout sat, cold. 

Through the hallway with several picture frames hung on the wall of his loved ones, none of which featured you. 

And into the doorframe of his bedroom, landing on his plush bed as you pull away from him to catch your breath. Heeseung’s eyes are dark and low as he watches you, your chest slowly rising as you recall all of the other times you were in this situation. 

When Heeseung took you to his older brother’s birthday, ending the night in his bed. 

When Heeseung took you to the theme park because you said you’d never been before, ending the night in his bed. 

When Heeseung asked you to temporarily move in while you were still looking for a new place to live after college, ending every night in his bed until you found a place. 

Right now, after you spent the whole day thinking of Heeseung, ending the night in his bed. 

Heeseung sets his hand over your neck, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek as he tries to read what you were thinking of through your eyes, “What’s on that pretty little mind of yours?” he asks. It was moments like this when he would speak to you in that way that just soothed your heart, he just had this way of speaking to you and telling you exactly what you needed… but not what you wanted. 

You just shook your head in response and continued where you left off. Spending the night rolling around in his bed, sharing tender and notso tender moments, and making you forget all of the times you wished you hadn’t come over. 

The sun rises in the east, the morning light shining through Heeseung’s bedroom window as your eyes flutter open, the soreness in your legs and back and marks on your neck serving as a reminder of the events of last night. You stretch the events of the night before away as you flip over to the middle of the bed, realizing that Heeseung’s presence was absent. 

Finding your way to his dining room as you see he’s cooking something in the kitchen. The dull air in his apartment almost suffocates you as you approach him, his head slightly turning in your direction when he senses your presence. “Hey, I’m almost done with breakfast. Hope you’re cool with-” Heeseung begins but you interrupt him, knowing what he was already cooking up, “ramyeon?” you say, the two of you chuckling together as you finish his sentence for him. 

“Am I that predictable?” he says with a laugh. “Mmm just a bit.” you say teasingly but you were only half joking. Knowing that you knew how the day after usually goes, you wake up in his bed alone, you find him making the two of you breakfast, and before the clock strikes noon you’re on your way back home with the weight of last night and every other night before that stacked onto your shoulders. 

An endless cycle that has been going on for the last 3 years that you just couldn’t break. 

“Y/N? You hungry?” Heeseung asks and you blink away your thoughts when you realize he’s calling out to you, already sitting at his dining table with two bowls and two sets of chopsticks laid next to him. Steam floating above the boiling pot of ramyeon. 

“What are we?” you abruptly ask Heeseung, shutting his eyes with a sigh as he tries to gather his thoughts for a conversation he doesn’t necessarily want to have. “Really? This again, Y/N?” Heeseung asks, clearly annoyed by your question. “Why can’t you ever just leave it? Let us have what we have without putting a label on things?” Heeseung continues, each word creating a crack in your already brokenheart. 

“And what exactly is that Heeseung? Hmm? What do we have?” you ask, emphasizing the word have like you were testing him because to you, you had something more than Heeseung would admit. He scoffs at your remark, not having an answer but he deflects, turning it back onto you. “See, this is why I can’t commit to you. You want so much out of me and I told you that I just wanted something casual!” Heeseung says, his voice getting louder when yours was barely above a whisper. 

“So is that what this is… casual?” you ask and although he doesn’t give you a verbal response, his actions were enough as he averts his eyes away from your gaze, not wanting to make eye contact with you. “Right…” you say, retreating to his bedroom to grab the small amount of things you brought, planning to leave and not turn back. 

“Where are you going?” Heeseung says, getting up from his seat at the dining table, the pot of ramyeon getting colder the longer this goes on. “Anywhere else but here.” you say, brushing past him as he tries to block you from leaving. 

“None. NONE! Of this was ever casual and you know that.” you say as you stare blankly at his front door. Afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crying but you felt the tears welling in your eyes as you slipped your shoes on. “We’ve met each other’s parents. I went to your brother’s birthday party, you bought my mom a birthday cake, I to- took you to my dad’s gravestone…” you say, your voice breaking at the last part of your sentence. 

“If that was casual, then I’m an idiot.” you say, tears falling from your eyes as you hurriedly leave his apartment, leaving him stunned as he stood staring at his front door left ajar. 

A choice you had to make even if you didn’t want to. 

Telling yourself that you couldn’t keep doing this with Heeseung even if you never stopped wanting him.

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Longing Looks to Something More

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> You and Tyler have been friends for a long time, but one day things begin to change.

Disclaimer: Steamy moments, swearing, fluffy moments, oblivious idiots in love, love confessions (kinda), lots of pining. Not Proof Read.

You heard his boots scuffing the barn floor before he pulled out a chair next to your desk. 

“Here.” Looking up, you found where he’d placed a fresh cup of tea beside you. “It’s too late for coffee, and Cathy said it’s good for sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep.” You lifted the mug. “But thank you.”

Tyler sat back in his chair, watching you as you went back to your work. You’d been sitting at that desk since four o’clock in the afternoon, and that hour was long gone. 

“When was the last time you got some decent shut eye?” Tyler asked, picking up a folder you’d finished looking at so he could make the conversation feel less like an interrogation. 

He smiled as he saw the small scribbled in the margins. 

“Before college properly.”

He shut the document. “I’m being serious, Y/n.”

“So am I,” you said, holding in a laugh. But then he gave you the look. 

Sighing, and relaxing your shoulders, you leaned to look at him. “I appreciate your concern, Ty, I really do. But I’m okay. I promise.”

He watched you for a moment before taking half of the scribbled notes from you and using the folder as something to lean on. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him. 

“Helping.”

“Tyler-”

He looked at you. “You need sleep and I’m not leaving until you do. And that won’t be until you finish. Twice the people, half the work.”

You would have fought him on it, but in truth, you’d spent so much time looking at the calculations and data you thought you were starting to think in them, instead of words. 

And he was right. 

Whatever work you’d been distracting yourself with was as wrapped up as it could be until you gathered some more data. And by the looks of it, the tea was working. You’d been giving into your yawns rather than trying to fight them off. 

Tyler had seen you do this for years. He was just glad they had Kate’s barn to work out of when chasing. You all finally had a home base now. 

“Right, come on.”

Tyler practically hauled you from your seat. 

“Bedtime.”

It was easier than previous nights to get you to move away from your work and head down to the farm house. There were three places to sleep on the farm. Inside the main house, which was where Kate stayed with Cathy and someone else would take the guest room. Then there was the guest house, with a couple different rooms which everybody had slept in at least once. Whoever fell asleep first, got the first pick of a room. Then there was the smaller guest house. It had one bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, a small sitting room and enough of a wooden stand in the back to be considered a porch. 

That was where you and Tyler would be tonight since you were the last to go to bed. 

“I brought your stuff down here earlier. I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

“Okay,” you yawned. 

By the time you’d gotten dressed in your pyjamas, these days consisted of a random t-shirt which you were sure had belonged to one of the boys at some point, and cotton shorts. You joined Tyler in the bathroom, brushing your teeth whilst he washed his face. 

Turning off the bath tap, he wrung out the face cloth before throwing it over the towel rail to dry. 

“Come on.” 

Finally rinsing out your mouth, you heard the clink of your toothbrush in the cup and wiped your mouth. 

Tyler’s hand hovered by your hip as he led you out of the bathroom, turning the light off behind him, across the small living room and into the bedroom. 

By that point, Tyler had practically wrangled and tucked you into bed before laying down beside you. For years, you’d shared a bed. You’d both shared a bed at least three times with each member of the crew. There was always a motel somewhere that didn’t have enough space. 

So it didn’t freak you out to think you’d be sharing a bed with Tyler. 

By the time the lights cut out, it wasn’t long before you were fast asleep. 

When you woke up, you felt secure. Like you’d been wrapped in a weighted blanket. Only when you opened your eyes did you realise it was Tyler’s arms. With your back against his chest, his arms held you securely against him. He was fast asleep. His breathing even, soft snores coming from him as he held onto you for dear life. 

It took you a minute but you eventually pulled yourself from his arms and headed for the bathroom. By the time you’d finished, you could hear him walking around the place before you heard the pans being moved around. 

He was making breakfast. 

“Hey.” 

Tyler looked over his shoulder as he scrambled the eggs. “Hey, how’d you sleep?”

“Good. Better than college.”

Tyler smiled. “Good. Eggs’ll be done soon.”

“Thanks. Want some coffee?”

Tyler nodded and you started brewing it from the pot, grabbing two mugs and setting them beside each other. 

After breakfast and coffee, Tyler headed for a shower and you got changed into some fresh clothes. You’d also found his inside one of the closets so, after pulling back the bed covers, you laid his clothes out at the foot of the bed. 

“Hey, Ty? I’m gonna head up to-”

You’d been focusing on tying the bottom of your shirt up as you walked the short distance out of the bedroom and past the sofa, ready to call through the door to him. However, without looking up, you ran into something. 

At first, you figured it was the door, but when the door suddenly grew arms, steadied you and spoke, you realised what had actually happened. 

Stood, his waist wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping a little from the water, Tyler had opened the door. 

And there you stood, suddenly dumbfounded, in his arms, unsure of what to do. 

“Uhh, sorry. I-I didn’t.” Your mind seemed to take a mental picture of the Tyler that stood in front of you in that moment, and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why. 

“You okay?”

Clearing your throat, you stepped back and out of his grasp. “Yea-yep. Yes. All good. I was just gonna…”

You forced yourself to look at his face before he thought you were checking him out. 

“I was gonna head up to the barn. I’ve, uhh, I’ve left your stuff in..in the bedroom.”

You started to make a break for it towards the front door and Tyler remained in his position, watching you. 

“Sure you’re okay?”

You nodded firmly. “Just peachy.”

Tyler couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched you leave after getting so flustered. But, shaking his head, he turned back towards the bedroom. He hadn’t meant for that to happen, but something inside of him was glad it did. 

The rest of the day, you tried to keep your mind focused on your tasks rather than constantly replaying what had happened that morning. Tyler. His arms. His grip. His body. His eyes. His voice. Him. 

None of that was helped when you saw him walking up the small hill towards the barn, his wranglers being filled in all the right places. 

“Stop it.” You told yourself over and over and over again. Even more so when he leaned over you from behind your chair, asking about the data collection. How was it that a man could still smell so good hours after taking a shower? Immediately, your mind projected the towel-wrapped image of him from that morning. 

“Stop it.”

Tyler hummed a response, not having heard you. 

“Nothing,” you brushed it off. And he just shrugged. 

However, you weren’t the only one confused by your sudden replay of the morning going over in your head. 

“Stare at her any longer and somebody might think you’re in love.” 

Tyler turned and looked back at Dexter. “What are you talking about?”

Dexter smiled. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at her. If you’re not looking around this barn for her, you’re looking at her.”

“No, I’m not.” Tyler tried to laugh it off. But then he found himself looking back at you. Your reaction to him coming out of the shower kept playing on his mind. As did the feeling of you being in his arms this morning before he woke up again. 

Standing and leaning behind you as you sat at your desk allowed for your shampoo to fill his senses. And it took him right back to being in bed with you after ushering you to bed. He’d woken up just a little before the sun had come up. His arms were already around you, but he wouldn’t have moved in fear of waking you considering you were holding his arms to you. 

Calming himself down, your shampoo filled his senses and imprinted the feeling and image of you in his mind. So, when he stood with you, that feeling came right back. 

He must have fallen back to sleep, too, because when he woke up, he heard the sink running in the bathroom. 

“Dex, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. So long as it’s not how to read Y/n’s handwriting. What does this even say?”

Leaning over him, Tyler read it. “Continued on page five.”

Dexter nodded, a little shocked. “What’s your question?”

“When…” He looked back at you for a moment before tearing his gaze away. “When do you know something is changing?”

“Is this about you and Y/n? Because I have to say, I think you might be the last to know.”

“What?”

Dexter started listing things off. “The way you look at her? The way she looks at you? The fact you’re the only one she’ll listen to, or you’re the only one who can read her handwriting?”

Tyler shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. But, I…”

“Did something happen?”

Tyler shook his head. “Technically, no.”

“But you wish it had?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know if I did or not. We’re friends. We’ve only ever been friends. Why would things start changing now?”

“Maybe now is the time.” Dexter said. “It’s like you say, a tornado is part science, part religion. Some things, or at least part of them, can’t always be explained. You and Y/n have a deep connection. You’re friends. Maybe now it’s time to explore things further.”

Taking one final look over at you, Tyler didn’t know what to do. 

“Maybe.”

Tyler wrestled with the idea for a week or more. You’d both been friends for a long time. And, sure. Maybe he’d checked you out once or twice over the years. He wasn’t blind. You were beautiful. Why you were still single baffled him. And, yeah, maybe he’d felt a little jealous when someone from a bar would ask you to dance with them. But that didn’t mean he was catching feelings, did it?

Except, the longer time went on, the more he could feel them becoming more noticeable. He kept catching himself looking at you throughout the day, His heart and stomach kept doing a weird ‘hop, skip and jump’ thing every time he saw you. Except, it had started to be whenever he even thought about you. Whenever he saw you in one of the guy’s t-shirts that wasn’t his, he felt a pang in his chest, but when he saw you in his…he had to leave the room for fear of the extent of his emotions showing up in front of everyone. 

And just when he thought he was getting better at hiding his feelings, Boone asked him a question. 

“When are you gonna ask her out, dude?”

Tyler, who had been on the roof of his truck since you got back from another tornado chase, stopped what he was doing and looked down at Boone. 

“What?”

Pausing where he was in the book you had given him only a few hours ago to keep him occupied, Boone looked at Tyler. “You’ve been watching her all day.”

Tyler looked back at his work, rather than back at you. You were a short way across the farm, helping haul some bags of feed from the truck and into the barn. 

“No, I haven’t.”

Boone just laughed. “Come on, man. We all see it. Hell, I’ve seen it since you first met her. D’you know you get this funny look on your face when you look at her? Had it then, have it now. Just louder.”

Tyler just shook his head and mumbled; “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This time, Boone stood up. “You’re my brother, Tyler. So I’m gonna tell you straight. You’re in love with, Y/n. So rather than sitting here, thinking about her. Go over there and do something about it. Or else Me and Lily are gonna have to start watching Parent Trap to take some more notes.”

Tyler looked back at Boone. “More notes?”

Boone cleared his throat and shook his head, scuffing his feet on the ground. If Tyler or you knew the lengths they’d gone through to get either one of you this far…

“Dude, just ask her out.” 

As he went and sat back down, he watched Tyler look back down the field towards you. Except, that was interrupted by Dani and Dexter heading up the road. 

It was from their announcement that everyone found themselves getting dressed up to head to the local bar for a night of country dancing. 

However, that caused one problem. 

Tyler. 

Smelling just as he did a few weeks ago when you ran into his freshly showered, towel-wrapped body. 

Filling out his jeans in all the right places. 

With a crisp white t-shirt. 

And you caught him from the moment he’d taken his backwards cap off his head, throwing it onto his dash and pulling his cowboy hat out, fixing it onto his head. 

And the way he was looking at you as you walked down the steps of the house, dressed in your only pair of denim shorts that didn’t need washing, a t-shirt you’d borrowed from Kate since the one you planned on wearing still had motor oil on from when you were helping Dani with the camper, and an oversized checked shirt, along with your cowboy boots; it was giving you more ideas than you needed in your head when it came to Tyler. 

 “Ready to go?”

Tyler had to look away from you, letting his gaze land on his feet as he nodded and opened up his passenger door for you. “Yep.”

For a moment, you could have sworn he looked nervous. But considering you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him any longer than a second and a half in fear he’d see exactly what you were thinking when you looked at him, you couldn’t be sure. 

And when he grabbed your hand half way through the night to bring you onto the dance floor, holding you close to him as you both two-stepped across the old wooden floor, those feelings that had been bubbling inside you for weeks; you could feel them pouring over whatever container you tried to shove them into. 

The feeling of his hand on your lower back, the feeling of his hand in yours, the feeling you got when he looked at you, and the way his voice sounded, so close to your ear. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” 

“It’s kinda personal.”

You were confused. “Okay?”

Now he just had to find the last shreds of courage to ask you. “Is something…has something…between you and me…is there…”

Each time he said a word, your head rushed around the million different things he was trying to ask you. 

“Just spit it out, Tyler.”

“Do you like me?”

No. I love you. 

“How’d you mean?” You asked. 

Tyler had a few seconds to think how to phrase his question as he spun you out before pulling you back. 

“Like, more than usual.”

Now he was starting to confuse himself. “I just…am I imagining things here, or is something…different? Between us, I mean.”

It was your chance to think. Had he been feeling it too? The way the room felt a lot more claustrophobic, in the good way, when it was just you two? Did he feel your touch as strongly in his bones as you did? Did he…did he love you the same way you did for him?

“It’s just…I feel like I woke up one morning and…I don’t know. You’re the person I’d talk to about this kinda stuff, so…I just thought I’d ask you about this, too. Is there…Is there something changing between us?”

The song slowed and you were completely against Tyler, standing in his space as he stood in yours. Looking up at him and meeting his green eyes, you told him the truth. 

“I think it already has.”

From the table in the corner, the others watched you and Tyler slow down and just simply look at each other. 

“Think he finally told her?” Lily asked, turning to the other hoping they saw what she did. 

“I think she told him.” Dani said, grabbing a handful of chips. 

“I think they’ve just told each other.”

Everyone looked at Dexter before turning to look back at you and Tyler on the dancefloor. 

You watched as Tyler registered everything you said and after an eternity, he looked up and around the room. You didn’t know what or who he was looking for, but after another moment, he grabbed your hand. 

“Come with me.”

You led you towards the back of the bar and out of the doors, the cold air hitting both of you all at once. The sound of the music and people drowned out as the door swung shut behind you both. 

“Ty, where are we-”

Swinging you around, you felt Tyler stop you in your tracks before he looked at you. Really looked at you. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

From day one of meeting Tyler, you knew you could trust him. And you knew you always would. 

Brushing the hair from your face, he seemed to finally breathe. And you slowly leaned into his touch. “Y/n…”

He swallowed nervously before asking the question that had been on his mind since the first time he’d woken up with you in his arms. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Drawing his eyes from your lips, he looked into yours. You knew if you said no, he would walk away. He wouldn’t question you, he wouldn’t push. 

But you wanted him to. 

“Yes.”

“Are you su-”

You cut him off, standing a little higher on your toes, you took his face into your hands and pulled him in to kiss you. His hands held you steady at your hips before snaking around your body and holding you flush against him whilst your own arms did the same around his neck. 

Parting for a breath, Tyler’s hands were quick to lift you up and you locked your ankles around his hips before your back was up against the cold brick wall. 

A small moan left your lips which forced Tyler to pull his lips from yours for a moment. 

“Are you okay?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Cowboy.”

Tyler smirked with a small chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

One hand holding you under your ass and another pushing through your hair, Tyler kissed you as if your life depended on it. 

You died with his kiss, and he brought you back with the next. God, you never wanted it to end. 

However, it was forced when you both heard the back door to the bar swing open and crash against the wall before a pair of drunk laughs getting closer. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t anyone on the team. Otherwise you and Tyler would have been caught in a very compromising position considering you could feel all of Tyler against your body at that moment. 

Looking back at you with a half drunk smile, which you were sure you owned the other half to, Tyler kissed you quickly once more. Before giving you another, and another and another as you slowly unhooked your legs from him and he lowered you to the ground. 

“We better get back inside.”

You smiled. “I think the others already have an idea on what we’re doing out here.”

“Still. If we’re gonna go any further, I’d rather make love to you someplace that isn’t behind the back of a bar.”

You blushed. “Make love?”

Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, Tyler leaned down and kissed the shell. 

“Would you prefer for me to fuck you? Because I can do that, too, Sweetheart.”

Tyler watched as your cheeks heated. He didn’t have to look at you to know what you were thinking about. Because he was thinking about it, too. 

“Come on. We better get inside.”

Pressing a final kiss to your lips, Tyler took your hand and led you back into the bar. You were pretty sure after his question, your brain had been completely fried with thoughts of Tyler fucking you. 

Not helped by the fact that when he walked you back inside, he pulled you to stand in front of him, his hands on your waist. “I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?”

You still couldn’t speak so just nodded. 

Tyler smiled a little and kissed your temple. “You keep thinking about my question, Sweetheart.”

You felt his hand tap your ass lightly before he walked away and towards the bar and you were left to walk back to where the team had been sitting in the corner. Thankfully, most of them apart from Dexter were up dancing. 

“You two finally talk?”

You felt yourself blush. You were glad most of the lights were directed onto the dancefloor or behind the bar. “A little more than that.”

Dexter smiled before taking a sip of his drink and handing you a small sketch. 

“Dexter, you’re the only person I know that brings a pad and pencil to a bar.”

He smiled. “Never know when inspiration will strike. Plus, I think you’ll like this one.”

From his pad, he pulled a small piece of card, no bigger than a beer coaster. In the middle stood the outline of two people. 

You and Tyler. 

Just moments ago, when you were standing on the dancefloor together. 

“Dex…”

He smiled. “You keep it. I’m gonna go to the gents.”

Standing up, Dexter walked away just as Tyler reached the table and handed you your drink before sitting beside you with his arm over your shoulders. 

“Look at this.”

“It's us.”

You smiled as you watched Tyler take hold of it and examine it for a moment. You could hear the cogs turning in his head but you weren’t sure why. But then he removed his hat and fixed the picture in place on the inner band. 

He fixed the hat back onto his head. “Well?”

You smiled. “You look handsome.”

Tyler smiled before leaning in to kiss you, and as he pressed his lips to yours, you both heard the hollering and whistles being blown by the rest of your team on the dancefloor. 

You felt yourself blush and chuckle, Tyler doing the same except as you hid your head for a moment on his shoulder, he waved his hands at the other to get them to stop. 

Looking back to you with a rested smile on his face, he leaned down and kissed you once more. 

“Ready to go home?”

You nodded and went to stand. 

“The offer still stands, Sweetheart.”

This time, as he remained seated, you turned back and pressed your knee into your chair, leaning over him as he looked up at you. 

“I want both,” you told him. Then you leaned in closer. “But if you’re gonna fuck me, you better fuck me like you mean it.”

It was his turn to blush, but you didn’t get away with not for long because Tyler’s hand came to your hip holding you steady when you kissed him. 

“Think you can take me, darlin’. Might need to get you ready first.”

You felt yourself smirk. “After those words and everything that happened outside, I’m already halfway there.”

Considering another tray of drinks made their way to the table in Dexter’s hands, Tyler told Tyler the others wouldn’t be leaving for a good while.

Tyler pressed one last kiss to your lips before he stood and took your hand in his, leading you back through the bar and towards his truck. 

“We’ll have to see about that.”

[astronomodome]

Astronomodome's 2024 US Presidential Election Liveblog

First of all I want to say I have other stuff to work on today so I might not be super up to date with stuff but I'll try my best to give my thoughts as to what's going on.

So first, how do we tell who wins?

In the U.S., the popular vote doesn't decide who wins the presidency. Instead, we use the (much hated) electoral college. Here's a helpful visual.

Every state (and DC) is given at least three electors, usually more based on population (which is why states like California and Texas have so many). There are 538 in total. To win, a candidate needs more than half of these- half of 538 is 269, so a candidate needs at least 270. (Interestingly, it is possible for both candidates to receive exactly 269 electors, in which case the universe corrupts and we all die infinitely the House of Representative chooses who wins, with each state getting one vote.)

The national popular vote may not matter, but the popular votes of each of the states do. Whoever wins the popular vote in each state (except Nebraska and Maine bc they're weird but that's not too important) wins all the electors for that state. It's very all-or-nothing which is why a lot of people don't like it.

This is a map from election forecaster 538, one of many such organizations that use polling and algorithms and election magic or something to predict who is likely to win each state. They have a lot of good graphs and stuff to look at on their site if you want to learn more about the stats of everything. As the key notes, we can see which way each state is expected to vote, as well as a few states highlighted in bold as likely swing states.

Swing states are basically wherever the election is close and the number of electors is high enough to 'swing' the election. Basically, while all the other states are mostly decided based on precedent (though surprises are possible), these states could reasonably go either way. This is why both candidates hold so many rallies in Pennsylvania, for example- it's competitive, and they want to boost their chances of winning those electors by currying favor directly with those voters.

One thing this map doesn't show is what I lovingly refer to as the Bar. It looks like this. I bring it up because if you follow the election news you'll see it. A lot.

The arrows in the middle point to 269.5, the exact midpoint. Whoever reaches that midpoint by filling up the bar wins (the beige in the middle are the tossup states who could go either way).

For example, let's look at 270towin. (the forecast websites love their special numbers.) They have a fun interactive map where you can make the votes go wherever you want to see what would happen.

^ Here's their prediction based on consensus.

^ Here, I changed Florida so it votes blue. Not likely unless I can bribe enough officials to make it so my ballot is the only one that counts (fair and just). We can see that the Bar has shifted, and the blue side has almost reached the arrows. Let's see what happens if we add another blue state. Let's say... Georgia, for example.

Wow! If the states were to vote this way, the Democrats would win, even if all the other undecided states went red. Is it likely? No. But, well, how do we know that?

In short, we don't. But we can guess, and that's what polls are for. There are several different types, but the most important ones for right now are exit polls. They'll start coming out soon, I think. I'm not sure if they have to wait until all the polls close (so people don't see them and decide not to vote or something because of it) but I think they do, at least in some states. Exit polls are conducted right outside of voting locations as voters exit, which makes them more accurate than other polls. They're not free of bias, though, so as always take them with a grain of salt. They're the first indicator we'll have of how it went, but they're not the final numbers.

One ray of hope I want to point out is the currently infamous Selzer Iowa poll (not an exit poll but still relevant). Ann Selzer is a really trusted pollster, known for a long streak of accuracy. She published a poll a day ago that indicated that Harris was beating Trump (!) in Iowa (!!) by 3 points (!!!). Iowa is... not considered a Democratic state; it went for Trump last election by 14 points. So this is really surprising (understatement). And yes, it could mean absolutely nothing... but it certainly shocked a lot of people, including Trump, who tweeted angrily about it.

States count their votes in different ways. Some results will be out within the day, others might take weeks. But usually most states can be 'called' for a candidate before every vote is counted. This is because the leading candidate will have more votes than can be overcome by the other one, even if every vote counted was for them. The important thing is that, as polls close over the next couple hours, they'll be counting. I saw one report that said election officials in Idaho, for example, plan on counting every vote "before they go to bed that night," which I thought was kind of a cute way to put it. Most states will release vote counts in batches or by county, which means that other batches or counties might still be counting as others submit their counts. That last sentence had a lot of 'count' related words in it, huh.

One thing to note about vote counting is that absentee or mail-in ballots often take longer to be received and counted than in-person votes. This can cause a phenomenon called "blue shift"- basically, a lot of mail-in ballots are cast by college students (like me!) or people who live overseas, and those groups tend to vote more Democratic than in-person voters. That means that late in the counting process, totals will often shift more towards the Democratic candidate. Famously, this is how Biden ended up winning Georgia in 2020- initially it was forecasted to remain red, but it inched over slowly as mail-in ballots were received.

So, in short, that's how we figure out who will be president. I'll be keeping track of what happens tonight, but it's very possible we won't know who wins until tomorrow morning or even later. Let's hope for the best :)

[asgardian--angels]

Conservation biologist here! Citizen science is super important!

You might wonder if submitting a couple photos of bugs in your yard to iNaturalist or feeder birds to eBird make a difference and it DOES. There are hundreds of academic papers each year (including my own) that use data from these citizen science projects to track long term trends in species populations, discover new populations of rare or imperiled species, or understand animal behavior and species interactions. Once in a while, someone even rediscovers a once-thought-extinct species by chance!

Citizen science is important because, as I've mentioned before, there aren't enough biologists to go around. We can't survey species everywhere, so a lot of places end up with big data gaps, particularly rural areas. Your backyard could have species that we didn't even know occurred in that county, or even that state! We need you to help fill in those gaps - even if you don't know what you're taking a picture of, if you put it on a community-driven platform like iNaturalist, we will ID it for you.

Citizen science can be a gateway into conservation, getting you more familiar and curious about the nature in your area. You'll start noticing more, knowing their names, and then seeking them out. Before you know it, you'll also be looking for a community of like-minded enthusiasts, meeting up to look for things together, or participating in events to help build habitat, or even help teach others what you've learned.

Some of the sites listed and bullet pointed above are redundant, so let me summarize:

Zooniverse as mentioned is an excellent place to find a variety of projects that need pairs of eyes to look through data, as others have mentioned. There's trail cam projects, whale song projects, star map projects, transcription projects, any number of things you can do at home (and not just science, quite a lot of humanities and history stuff on there too). It can be super relaxing to just spend a few hours going through photos and clicking buttons.

iNaturalist is the major worldwide platform for submitting photos or audio of literally any living thing, anywhere. It's community-based, so you suggest an ID, and others will agree or correct it until it's reached a consensus and can be 'research grade', aka enough for scientists to use. The possibilities of how you can search, view, and study the data are limitless. Learn the species in your area, search for where to find species you want to see, learn who else near you is interested in the same kinds of organisms, you name it. And if you already are pretty good at IDing some kind of organism, you can help add IDs to others' posts and pay it forward.

eBird is, next to iNaturalist, the other largest global citizen science platform, but only for birds. It is made by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, which also makes the Merlin bird ID app and AllAboutBirds website. Out of those three, eBird is the actual citizen science site you submit to. eBird is the primary platform used by birders of all skill levels, and contains over 101,000,000 checklists from birders all over the globe. Like, if you were wondering where birders hang out, it's here. You could search the data for hours. Birders do. It doesn't matter if you submit a single chickadee or a 12-hour Big Day list, they all count and they're all important. There is a higher expectation of data quality here though than places like iNaturalist - you do need to be sure of what species you are seeing, and if you try to submit something rare without documentation they will contact you.

There are smaller eBird projects you can do coming into the winter now though - check out Project Feederwatch, The Great Backyard Bird Count, and the annual Christmas Bird Count, which happens in several locations in every state each year! These pertain to common, easy-to-ID yard birds and there are resources to help you learn them.

These sites all have tutorials on how to use them!

There are so many citizen science projects. Some like bioblitzes are in-person events that usually last one day and take place at a specific property like a local nature preserve, while others like a butterfly census occur all season and you can sign up for a route. Look into what's happening in your state by checking out your local Audubon chapter's website!

I'll throw a few others here: BugGuide, BumbleBee Watch, Beecology, The Great Sunflower Project, Xeno-Canto, Big Bee

If you're feeling anxious or depressed about the climate and want to do something to help right now, from your bed, for free...

Start helping with citizen science projects

What's a citizen science project? Basically, it's crowdsourced science. In this case, crowdsourced climate science, that you can help with!

You don't need qualifications or any training besides the slideshow at the start of a project. There are a lot of things that humans can do way better than machines can, even with only minimal training, that are vital to science - especially digitizing records and building searchable databases

Like labeling trees in aerial photos so that scientists have better datasets to use for restoration.

Or counting cells in fossilized plants to track the impacts of climate change.

Or digitizing old atmospheric data to help scientists track the warming effects of El Niño.

Or counting penguins to help scientists better protect them.

Those are all on one of the most prominent citizen science platforms, called Zooniverse, but there are a ton of others, too.

Oh, and btw, you don't have to worry about messing up, because several people see each image. Studies show that if you pool the opinions of however many regular people (different by field), it matches the accuracy rate of a trained scientist in the field.

--

I spent a lot of time doing this when I was really badly injured and housebound, and it was so good for me to be able to HELP and DO SOMETHING, even when I was in too much pain to leave my bed. So if you are chronically ill/disabled/for whatever reason can't participate or volunteer for things in person, I highly highly recommend.

Next time you wish you could do something - anything - to help

Remember that actually, you can. And help with some science.

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: in your hands

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. we're back with yet another 'what if' scenario, prompted by you lovely people in an ask that i can't seem to find to link right now. smh.

words: 3.3k

warnings: none. just sam being sam.

song inspo: in your hands by halle

Roman should have stuck with his first mind. Stayed home. Texted her some excuse about being caught up with work. She would have never found out the truth, and even if she did, he wouldn’t have given two fucks. 

Because this shit doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

This dating thing. 

It’s gotta be at least the fifth or sixth one he’s taken her on, and each one has been just as miserable up until the point where he gets her on her knees, gagging or bouncing on his dick the minute they get back to his penthouse. Anything before that has been irksome, borderline miserable. 

Samantha is stunning. Has been since they were kids, and her body is the most desirable of the women he has on his roster. She leans on the thinner side of what he prefers, but the tits and ass are decent, regardless. She’s also just as kinky as him, which is why they’ve worked all these years.

But, the more “dates” Roman forces himself to power through, the more he’s starting to feel like bedroom activities is where it stops for them. 

Technically, he’s always known this. Even if he did have some level of desire to be in a real relationship with someone, which he doesn't, it would never be her. She’s vain, condescending, and seems to think she’s somehow better than the other women he fucks with.

If only she realized he views her just like he views the rest of the women. A warm body with a wet cunt to help him get his dick wet. 

“Roman!” Her voice cuts through his inner dialogue as he focuses on her cleavage. The dress she wore, short and tight, doesn’t help his desire to skip to the fucking part of this evening. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No.” Roman sees no sense in lying to her. “I probably don’t care either.”

She rolls her eyes and proceeds to continue like he literally didn’t just tell her he doesn’t care. “I was saying we should go somewhere.”

He’s partially intrigued now. Mostly because he’ll probably need to set her ass straight. “Where?”

She smiles and shrugs. “I don’t know. I was thinking Bora Bora.”

He shakes his head. “So go.”

She frowns, clarifying. “I said we should go, Roman.”

He scoffs, looking off at the ice sculpture in the middle of the upscale restaurant. A waste of money, in his opinion. “What the hell makes you think I have time to go to fucking Bora Bora with you?” He really wants to ask her what makes her think he would want to in the first place, but he’s trying to be somewhat less of an asshole to see if maybe this could work.

His Wise Man’s nervous voice balanced out with sage wisdom returning to the front of his mind.

“If the Elders are to force you into a marriage, why not with someone you already know? Especially someone who you know would have no issue in giving you an heir.”

If only Samantha wasn’t so fucking annoying.

She leans back in the chair. “You make time for these dates.”

Out of obligation. But, he won’t say that. “Yeah, but I can get my nut and send your ass packing in the same night. Can't do that if we're out of the fucking country.”

“You’re suck a di—”

“I’m so sorry.”

Soft. It’s the first thing that comes to mind hearing her voice. Light, almost. Kind. Even with just three words being spoken. And that’s just based off audio. Visually, Roman’s thoughts take an entirely different direction.

Stunning. 

Roman’s seen, entertained, and done a lot more with some beautiful women in his time, but the one standing at their table seems to have something more than all of them put together. She’s beautiful, easily one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on. And her smile, small but genuine makes him pause. As does her body.

She’s wearing the same uniform he’s noticed on the other waitresses, but none of them fill them out like she does. The white, long sleeved shirt that’s tucked into the knee length black pencil skirt can’t hide the curves he can practically see through the bland outfit. Nice, heavy breast. Curvy hips, thick thighs and an ass he can partially see from the front. 

This. This is his preferred body type. A woman who has something he can grab onto when he’s fucking her from behind. And Roman can only imagine what it would be like to be holding onto those luscious hips of hers while he—

“Oh my god, are you stupid?” Samantha’s annoying voice once again pulls him from his carnal fantasies. She gestures between herself and him. “Can you not see we’re in the middle of something?”

The girl, who Roman would guess is in her late twenties, early thirties at most, immediately looks repentant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I was just going to apologize for your wa—”

“Whatever.” Samantha lifts her hand, silencing the girl who’s now looking down at her shoes, clearly embarrassed. “What’s the special for this evening?”

“What’s your name?” Roman’s question comes out at the same time as Samantha’s inquiry. However, his voice clearly presents with more of a commanding nature. 

She swallows. “S–Solana.”

Pretty. Just like her. 

Samantha notices the way Roman is looking at her and is fully confused as to why he’s asking this fat troll for her name. She cuts in again, in that same nasty tone. “Hello? I asked you a question.” 

Solana is clearly struggling with Samantha’s aggressiveness, Roman wondering why this bitch is directing whatever unresolved feelings she has onto this innocent girl. “Umm, I think—”

Samantha scoffs, nose turned up. “You’re our waitress, and you don’t even know what the evening special is?”

“No ma’am, I do. I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s been a long day.” There’s a weight to her words, a sadness in her voice and in her pretty brown eyes. Roman notices all of these things and finds himself wondering what the story is. Everyone has one, and hers is suddenly of interest to him. For reasons he cannot understand. 

“Pretty unprofessional to bring up your personal life, don’t you think?”

Solana closes her eyes, pausing before answering. She looks exhausted. Mentally and physically. “It’s Squab. That’s the main co—”

“I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat.” Roman rolls his eyes. This hoe has been saying that since they were in high school, yet every so often she goes back to having a normal fucking diet only to switch back to that salad shit. “What’s on your—”

“I’ll do us both a favor and get her to shut the fuck up.” Roman has had enough, both of Samantha’s grating voice but mostly her being a bitch to this girl for no reason. He’s a dick on the regular. He knows this. But, never has he come across someone like this Solana woman who, with just her presence alone, exudes such softness. Like, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her fine ass body. And she clearly doesn’t because anyone else would have probably lost their job by cussing Samantha out. Not that it wouldn’t be deserved.

Roman catches the faintest hint of a smile on Solana’s face as she redirects her attention to him. “Give her the salmon. I’ll take your best steak. For wine, you carry Madeira?” 

She’s pulled out her notepad and finishes taking down the order before answering with a nod. “Yes, sir.”

Roman’s jaw clenches at that sir bit. He could ruin this girl. “What do you recommend?”

She’s visibly taken back by his question, probably by the fact that he’s asking her for her opinion. “Umm—”

“Roman, I can rec—”

“I didn’t ask you,” he cuts that bitch off with the quickness, eyes never leaving the pretty girl before him. “I asked Solana.”

Her smiles widens as she answers in a more confident tone. “Julio Barros…..1950.”

Roman smirks. 

Exactly what he was going to order.

“I’ll take it.”

Their gazes linger on each other a second too long for Samantha’s liking as she cuts in once once more. “You can go now.”

Solana’s smile drops again, Roman suddenly finding himself all annoyed. Her smile is something pretty that he wouldn’t mind seeing more of, though that irritation is waned as he’s granted the view of her nice, round ass and curvy hips swaying as she walks to the back to turn in their order.

Samantha reaches over and touches his hand, Roman snatching it back and sneering at her. “What?”

She sighs. “Baby, I’m trying to talk about us.”

And just like that, he’s annoyed all over again. “There is no us.”

Samantha looks sad only for a brief second. “Roman, I’m not stupid. I know what these dates have been for. You’re trying to see if it could work.”

“If what could work?”

“Us.” She goes on to share. “There’s rumors that the Elders have been putting more pressure on you to settle down and make an heir.” Sam leans over the table, intentionally trying to emphasize her cleavage. It’s nice. He’ll give her that. But, he’s certain it’s nothing compared to Solana though and those big breast of her hers. “I can do that for you. Be that for you. Be your wife. The mother of your children.”

Not a damn thing she’s saying sounds even the least bit desirable. At all. 

“I mean, we’ve been fucking around since we were kids. Why not make it official?”

For a lot of reasons. All the reasons. The main one being Roman don’t like this bitch unless she’s choking on or riding his dick. 

What he does like, however, and finds solace in is the interactions with Ms. Solana as the evening goes on. They’re not very often outside of her bringing the bottle of wine and their food when it’s ready as well as a check-in here or there on how they’re doing.

Each time Samantha sending her the dirtiest look or just being an ol’e nasty bitch, to which Roman shuts down, cutting her off and even telling her to shut the fuck up.

The girl is just trying to do her damn job. And as his eyes locate and land on her on several different occasions, he can see that she works hard. Moving from table to table, almost saddened facial expression indicates she’s on the receiving end of more verbal lashings from people like Samantha.

That actually pisses him off, Roman having to control and stop himself from doing some out of pocket shit. 

Again, for what reason, he hasn’t the slightest clue. He just knows those brief glimpses of her actually smiling, usually when she’s chatting with a coworker, do something for him. 

Maybe even to him. 

And unbeknownst to him, the intrigue goes both ways, because as shitty a day Solana Miller was having, the handsome stranger with the rude girlfriend or wife or whatever has somehow, someway made this day just a little bit better.

It’s been some time, if ever, Solana has come across someone with such a presence about them. Him dining at this uppity restaurant she was able to score a job at tells her that he’s wealthy. His disposition and the fact that he somehow secured it to where the surrounding tables of where he sits have been marked as unavailable tells her that he has pull. But, the way he interacts with her, a literal nobody, she’s not sure what that means.

Especially with the beautiful woman he’s with, because while Solana thinks she’s every bit a bitch as most of the women who come into this place, she’s a stunning bitch. 

Which is why Solana can’t allow herself to believe that that equally beautiful looking man is looking at her in any sort of capacity. 

There’s no way in he—

“Solana.”

And just like that, she's frowning again. “Mami?”

The last thing she expected to see this evening was the sight of her mother, already dressed in her scrubs, baby in her arms. 

Solana’s baby. 

Her 11-month–old daughter, Soraya. 

The shock wears off as Nina gets closer, Solana shaking her head, “what are you—”

Nina shakes her head, face apologetic and tone contrite. “I’m so sorry, baby, but I got called into work. I can’t watch Raya.”

Shit

It's inconvenient, but Solana understands it. She remembers the countless times Nina had no other option but to leave her with a neighbor after being called into work at all kinds of hours. She’s always worked so hard to take care of the two of them when Solana was growing up. 

“It’s okay, mama.” Solana easily reaches for her daughter, a wave of relief and happiness washing over her as she holds and kisses her baby. The source of all her joy. All of the struggle, every bit of it, is worth it as long as she has her daughter. She’d do anything for her. “How was she?”

Nina gives a small chuckle. “She’s like you were and still are. An easy child.” Solana kisses Soraya’s temple. “Sol…..” And just like that, Solana already knows she’s probably not going to like what she’s about to hear. “I know you’ve said you don’t want to go after him for child support, but it’s not fair for you to be out here working two jobs while putting yourself through school to take care of his child.”

Solana holds Soraya just a smidge tighter. “She’s my baby, mami.” 

Nina counters. “She’s his biological child.” Solana looks away, hopeful her manager, Aldis, doesn’t come out and scold her for this little interaction. She’s scheduled to clock out in another half hour anyway. “He should be paying you child support.”

Her mom is right. Solana knows this, knows that it’s not fair for her to have to be the sole provider for her baby girl, while Cruz lives his best life as an absentee, deadbeat dad. And she’s considered on several occasions going to the courthouse to see what she needs to do to get that ball rolling. 

But, every time, she’s haunted by something he said the last time they spoke, not even a month after her daughter was born. 

“Don’t you get it? We were fine before she came in the picture! We could be fine again if she wasn’t.”

Solana’s never been more disturbed than she was to hear those words leave his mouth. That’s why she’s glad he’s gone, that he wants nothing to do with her or his child. Because she would never trust to leave her baby girl with him in the first place.

And if that means she does it without him contributing financially, that’s exactly what she’ll do. 

Solana shifts Soraya from one hip to the other. “I don’t need him, mami.” And she doesn’t. Because if Solana had to resort to sex work to take care of herself and her daughter, it’s exactly what she’d do.

Nina gives a heavy sigh. “Mija, you know I help you when I can.”

“I know.” Because she does. But, the same way that times are hard for her. They’re hard for her mom, too. Everyone’s struggling these days, it seems. Everyone except the rich people who wine and dine without a care in the world around them. “I’ll be okay.”

Always will be.

Nina gives a knowing nod, hugging her daughter and gently taking her granddaughter’s hand, kissing it, speaking in Spanish. “I’ll see you later, okay? Abuela loves you.”

Solana smiles. “Thanks, mama.”

“Always, baby.” 

Nina reaches Solana the diaper bag, Solana placing it on the bar stool, knowing it’s bound to be left alone. These rich ass people would never bother with the Ross purchase. With a final parting smile, Nina is off to the hospital, leaving Solana with her daughter who’s just now waking up.

“Hi, baby girl,” Solana giggles at the almost cranky expression on her baby’s face. Raya is definitely not the happiest camper when being woken up. 

A glance at the time reminds Solana that she technically is still on the clock and really shouldn’t have her child with her. But, with no other option, she accepts she’ll just have to clock out early and take whatever those consequences are.

But before that, the least she can do is grab the bill from the table where the handsome stranger and his girlfriend sat. She’s briefly disappointed to see the table empty, even if she remembers his deep voice thanking her for her assistance this evening as she brought them that same check earlier. 

It’s a silly thing, really. And she tries to push away the disappointment at not properly telling him goodbye. A stranger. 

Silly.

Soraya grasps at the collar of her shirt while Solana walks over to the table, pausing as she gets close enough to see that there’s more than just a bill with a signature. There’s cash. A stack of it. Money in hand, she’s confused, because this man paid with a black card, so what—

“Good.” 

Solana gaps and spins around, her eyes widening as she looks up. He’s a lot taller than she realized, burly body nearly eclipsing her view of anything else, silky black hair in such a neat, perfect bun. “Wanted to make sure you got it.”

Brows furrowed, it’s hard for her to speak for a lot of reasons. One of which is the fact that this man cannot be real. A man cannot be this handsome. But, he is real, and he’s looking at her.

And Soraya. 

“I—” She shakes her head, clearing her throat. “Is this—you already paid—”

“That’s not for the bill,” his voice is so velvety, smooth, and deep. “It’s your tip.”

Eyes widening, her gaze snaps to the wad of cash as Soraya continues to grasp and squeeze her shirt. She doesn’t even need to count to know that this is a nice amount of money. 

Too much.

“I can’t—it’s too much.” 

He chuckles, “do I look like I can’t afford it?” Her eyes roam over his big, muscular build dressed in fine, expensive looking clothes. He just oozes wealth. 

And power. 

“N–no.”

“Dealing with Samantha, trust me, you earned it.” Solana looks down, wanting to hide her small smile. His gaze redirects to the child in her arm. “Who is this?”

And just like that, Solana’s proud smile returns. “My daughter, Soraya.” It’s like Soraya knows she’s being discussed, lifting her little head to look at Roman. A big grin on her face before she buries her face into Solana’s neck. 

Roman makes a sound, and she can almost swear she sees the smallest smile on his handsome face. “She looks like you.”

That creates such a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach, “thank you…..”

He looks at her a bit confused, like her unspoken question surprises him, before answering. “Roman.” Roman. “Roman Reigns.”

Roman Reigns. Even his name is powerful.

It fits him.

Solana shifts Soraya around as she starts to get wiggly in her arms. “Well, thank you, Mr. Reigns.” She’s certain the shock of just how much money this random, rich stranger has given her hasn’t truly set in. Because if it had, she’d have a much more visceral response. 

A lot more.

“Roman,” he corrects. “Call me Roman.” 

“Roman….” 

Something indecipherable flashes in his eyes, something that makes her feel a bit unnerved under his intense stare. It’s broken, however, by her now irritated daughter.

“Mama.” Soraya makes her dissatisfaction at being still for too long known by punching her tiny fist against Solana’s chest. “Mama!”

“Shhhhh,” Solana kisses her temple, trying to quiet her down before someone makes Aldis aware of her presence. She looks at Roman, eyes softening, “thank you again.”

Truly. Honestly. He hasn’t the slightest clue how much this will help her. It’s why she can stand here without anxiety and concern about making it to the bus stop on time. Tonight.....tonight she’ll treat herself and her baby with calling an Uber instead. 

Might even stop and pick up dinner.

Roman nods, eyes briefly glancing at her daughter again, the smallest smile on his face. “I’ll see you later, Solana.” His head dips a bit in acknowledgment towards her baby. “Soraya.”

The smile is plastered on her face even as he walks off without another word. And it’s only a good two minutes later that she catches onto what he said. A certain word in particular standing out the most. 

What did he mean by later?

[sugdenlovesdingle]

TK and Carlos meet Tommy and Buck for the first time since the crossover episode

I'm not that good with crossovers but I hope you like it

---

"So you met them fighting wildfires here in Texas? When we live in the wildfire state?" Tommy asked as they drove through down town Austin.

Buck shrugged.

"It was pretty bad. They needed all the help they could get." he quickly glanced at Tommy "Hen and TK's captain actually went missing. Their helicopter crashed. We stole a fire truck to rescue them."

"You seem to do a lot of that, don't you? I'm kind of hurt you've never stolen one for me." Tommy teased.

"Next time I steal a truck, I promise it'll be for you." Evan vowed and held up two fingers. "Scout's honour."

Tommy laughed.

"That doesn't count if you were never actually a boyscout."

"How do you know I was never a scout? I had a lot of hobbies as a kid."

"Hmm. I know. But Maddie would have shown me the pictures by now if you had."

Evan tilted his head in his direction to signal he had a point.

"I'm sure you would have been adorable in the uniform." Tommy told him and brushed a kiss over the knuckles of Evan's hand he was holding.

"Damn right I would have!" he joked as he pulled into a free parking space near an apartment building. "Ok this should be it." He double checked the address as they walked up to the front door. He was excited to meet up with TK again but also slightly nervous. "We've kept in touch via insta and text and stuff." he told Tommy. "But I've never actually met his husband. I was supposed to go to their wedding... but then I got struck by lightning."

"Which seems like a valid reason to skip a wedding." Tommy said, taking his hand. "But you are the most accident prone person I know. Even if you were a cat your nine lives would be close to running out by now." he joked.

Just as Evan was about to ring the doorbell, someone called out his name behind them.

They turned around and saw a guy of around Evan's age in some kind of uniform walk up to them, with a large Bernese Mountain Dog happily following behind.

"TK! Hey! Good to see you, man." Tommy hung back as Evan let go of his hand to hug his friend. "Are we early?" he gestured at TK's uniform.

"No, don't worry about it, it's fine. I just took Buttercup out for a walk first before we went up."

"Is he yours?" Tommy asked, scratching the dog behind its ears as it sniffed his pockets.

"My dad's. But he's away visiting family for a couple of days so he stays with us." TK explained. "And you must be Buck's hot pilot."

Tommy laughed and shook TK's hand while Evan's face turned an adorable shade of pink.

"Just Tommy is fine." He said and turned to Evan. "Just how many people have you told about me as the hot pilot?"

"I...Well... I just... I mean... Y-you are a hot pilot." Evan stammered.

"Hey, I get it." TK said, patting his shoulder. "I married a cowboy and a cop in one. A very hot one too."

They followed TK into the building and they took the lift up to their floor.

"Carlos is making ropa vieja from his grandmother's recipe. He's planned a whole three course meal."

"You didn't have to go through all of this trouble for us." Evan said but TK waved his comment away before opening a sliding door. "It's fine. He loves to cook. Babe, I ran into Buck and Tommy downstairs."

An attractive man Tommy recognised from the pictures Evan had shown him, came to greet them at the door. He kissed TK and unclipped the dog's leash before turning to Buck and Tommy.

"Hey guys, come on in. I'm Carlos, TK's husband. Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you. Both of you."

"I might have called TK for advice when I was freaking out before our first date." Evan explained.

"And looking at you two now, it was pretty good advice." TK pointed out and ushered them further into the loft.

The place was nice. Stylish yet homey at the same time. TK quickly changed out of his uniform while Buttercup decided Tommy was his new favourite person in the world and draped himself over his lap, and Evan ended up helping Carlos in the kitchen.

"Just push him away if he bothers you." TK gestured to the dog staring lovingly at Tommy while he pet him. "He can get a little clingy."

"It's fine, I don't mind. Our neighbours had a Saint Bernard when I was a kid, I was always over at their place to play with it. This one brings back memories, don't you buddy?" he directed the last part at Buttercup before glancing around the loft again, eyes landing on a large terrarium. "What's in there?" he asked and TK's eyes lit up.

"That. is Lou. Louis the second. He's our lizard. Well... bearded dragon." TK stood up and opened the terrarium, moving a few things around, and lifting a lizard up out of it. "Carlos bought him for me, even though he's scared of him."

"I'm not scared of Lou. I just didn't want a wild flesh eating lizard loose in our apartment."

"I feel like there's a story there." Tommy prompted.

"Carlos is overreacting." TK insisted but didn't elaborate."Lou is actually really friendly and smart. And he likes Buttercup."

"And Buttercup was scared of him the first time they met." Carlos added.

Tommy listened to TK talk about the bearded dragon and made a mental note to look into where and how to possibly get one in LA. He'd have to talk to Evan about it but he had a feeling he'd be on board.

They spent the rest of the night swapping work stories while enjoying their dinner, and making plans for the rest of Buck and Tommy's time in Austin.

"I'll text you the details for that club I mentioned. You can meet the rest of our friends." TK promised Buck as he and Carlos walked him and Tommy to the door.

"And we'll meet in the park at noon tomorrow for the yoga class. I have an extra mat if you need it." Carlos told Tommy. The two had discovered a mutual love for yoga and agreed to go to Carlos' regular class together.

"And we can sit back and enjoy the view." TK said, bumping his shoulder against Buck's. "I'll bring virgin mojitos."