#has this implication that they weren't friends when they were dating

[elisedonut]

Ngl I know i don't write much m/f Percy I've actually not written any now that i think about it because my one Percy/Fleur fic is actually a f/f fic but like unless otherwise stated in anything i make he is Bi

that boys bisexual

especially after reading all little mini interactions we see of Penny and Percy

no he was so into her

like they may be just friends now but that's not how it always was

[wooahaes]

svt - whatever you say, beautiful

pairing: non-idol!svt x gn!reader

prompt: i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.

warnings: established relationship aus. food and alcohol mentions. jeonghan and reader lovingly calling each other 'ugly' like an old married couple. 96z roommates au (jun). soonyoung's terrible mayo-ketchup concoction (jun). reader gets called beautiful back (jun, soonyoung). friends -> lovers (jun, soonyoung, jihoon). bickering as a love language (minghao, seungkwan). sexual implications from a third party (chan telling seungkwan to let him know if he needs to put headphones on or leave).

daisy's notes: i wrote that vernon drabble and gave myself brainrot. also on jeonghan's: ik there's cultures that do this lol but for those unaware: pls don't take it as a serious thing haha its meant to be akin to calling someone silly or goofy. i just think it gives old married couple energy to be like 'you're a nuisance but you're my nuisance and i adore you wholeheartedly.' like seungkwan tells them: just tie the knot if they want to, because they already act like they've been married for seventy years.

choi seungcheol

seungcheol was sprawled out in your bed, blanket securely tucked around him while he scrolled through his phone. sleepovers, at this stage in your relationship, weren't exactly uncommon... but the giddiness still hadn't worn off. the two of you didn't intend on moving in together for at least another year, both of you enjoying living on your own for right now after so, so much time of living with other people. still... that would never stop you from enjoying the sight of your beloved in your bed, ready for sleep, and winding down by checking his social media for the second or third time today.

until you saw him stop. he furrowed his brow, that handsome face completely perplexed. and you fought back a grin, because you knew exactly what was confusing him.

today the two of you decided to publicly reveal your relationship to more than just immediate family and very very close friends. seungcheol had been thrilled over it: he'd always been wanting to show you off since you started dating. but when you asked for a little time, he didn't fight: he just met you where you were. and now that everyone knows...

"what is this?"

he turned his phone to face you, giving you full view of the caption you lovingly wrote out. it sat underneath a collection of pictures, some taken by you, others by him, and one taken by one of his close friends in preparation of this special day... and, of course, it was a silly little joke.

i'm not arguing with my man and his big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful. ❤️

you snickered, crawling into bed next to him. "what's wrong with it?"

"nothing!" but he was pouting, and you knew what was coming next. "did you see my post?" he was already moving to pull it up, as though you hadn't read and re-read it a million times while he was in the shower.

so you decided to torment him. just a little bit. "you don't like it...?" you frowned, putting on your best 'kicked puppy' look.

"i do like it!" he was quick to try and assuage your worries. he turned over so that he could face you. "but... when we decided to tell everyone, i thought you wouldn't post a meme as the caption."

"so you hate it." you crossed your arms, pouting as hard as you could muster.

"i don't hate it! i didn't say--i didn't mean that, i just--" he looked up, watching you for longer than a few seconds. then he snorted, hand resting over his heart for a minute. "you're going to be the death of me."

with a snort, you crawled closer to him, all but dragging him up so that you could kiss him. "you know you're the normal one here."

he giggled, capturing your lips in another quick peck. "maybe i am," he said. "... i do like it, though. just warn me next time."

yoon jeonghan

joshua (hannie's coworker): [IMAGE.JPEG]

joshua (hannie's coworker): can you come get him he's bickering with seungkwan rn

joshua (hannie's coworker): (it's mostly seungkwan bickering but jeonghan is actually fighting back a little)

joshua (hannie's coworker): (it's literally over who's paying for chan's birthday dinner. cheol literally picked up the check half an hour ago right after they started.)

you: omw. also idk how seungkwan does it. i'm not arguing with a man with big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.

the moment you pulled up outside the restaurant, you should have known exactly why jeonghan was grinning at you. he waved from the sidewalk, turning back to his friends to talk just a bit longer. he didn't move, which... on most days, you wouldn't care. but it was late, and you had work in the morning, and (according to joshua) they just spent the past few hours just chatting after their meal. five minutes melted into ten, and then into twenty...

and so you rolled down your window, yelling out a 'happy birthday!' to chan that finally got jeonghan's attention. another grin, and that was enough to tell you that he'd been waiting for that. he wouldn't do it for everyone, but chan? you knew their friendship was different. he hugged the guy one last time, and then made his way over to the car, climbing into the passenger seat. with a final wave to his friends, you pulled back onto the road, and started the journey home.

"so... you really think my eyes are beautiful?"

ah. that was the other reason the fucker wouldn't stop grinning at you. of course it couldn't just be one thing with jeonghan.

"you think i'm beautiful?" he watched you with this knowing smile, as though the two of you hadn't been dating for years now. as though you hadn't drunkenly confessed it before. "i'm starting to think you actually like me."

"you're just now realizing that?" you flicked on your blinker, coasting into the turn lane. "do you think i'd be living with you if i didn't?"

"you never call me beautiful to my face anymore, you know," he said, reaching for your bottle of water. without a care, he uncapped it, taking a long sip from it. "you just call me 'ugly' whenever you call me something."

that was far from true, to be fair: he was your love, your baby, your honey... and he was 'ugly' when you were particularly affectionate. "i have to keep you humble, ugly. you already know how beautiful you are."

his eyes twinkled a little as he looked at you, that fond smile telling you all you needed to know. "i know, ugly." he'd never been afraid to throw the word back at you, and you hoped that the tiny thrill it brought you never died.

no wonder seungkwan once said the two of you should go ahead and tie the knot. "you already act like it," he'd said, side-eyeing the two of you before taking a long sip of whatever coffee-flavor-of-the-day he'd picked out.

he reached over, prodding your cheek. when you glanced over, just enough to let him know you were listening, he just leaned against the center console with this handsome smile he reserved for you. "i love you."

and maybe he was a little drunk. just a little. but you let him have this one. "i love you, too, handsome."

joshua hong

"am i not worth the effort?" joshua couldn't even fight his playful grin now, his phone in his hand. "you couldn't even come up with an original post for our anniversary?"

with a roll of your eyes, you glanced back over his own post for a moment, pausing your search for movie snacks. he'd written out this long, sappy love letter to you about how he wanted to spend the rest of his life alongside you. it was sweet, and a little silly when he recounted the embarrassing story of how the two of you realized your feelings for one another (all it took was one spilled milkshake, courtesy of jeonghan), but overall a very public display of his adoration toward you. the picture-perfect, romance novel act of love from your boyfriend.

in other words: he was hamming it up so that people would gush over how he was the most adoring boyfriend, and how lucky you two were to have one another based on everything he said. in reality, he was literally eating your snacks right now. and later that night, he'd put his cold feet on you and then laugh over it.

"uh-huh." you continued searching through the cabinets after pocketing your phone. "should i have told everyone about how you somehow always manage to eat the last poptart in the box, even though you straight up told me that you keep count just so you can tease me over it?" you tossed an empty box into the bin, making a mental note to add them to the list. "or the time you literally ate all of my fries when we were on that road trip?"

"you're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"didn't mention how god awful your workout clothes stink, either." you grimaced at the memory alone. "seriously, dude, how fucking hard do you go?"

"i forgot to wash them twice!" he turned around on the couch. "all because i said i thought it was cute when you mumble in your sleep and keep me up all night--"

"listen. i'm just doing damage control for you, hong," you pulled down a bag of chips, carefully rolled and clipped to keep them fresh. making your way back over, you continued, "really, you should be hiring me. i called you beautiful and mentioned those big brown bambi eyes." you threw yourself down next to him, bag crinkling as you unrolled it. you held up the first chip, an offering to him that he leaned over to take. "i think i deserve payment for it all."

but he grinned at you, settling back in. "i'll think about it. i'll get the big box of poptarts next time," he poked your side, just hard enough to get you to move off of his blanket, and then drew you right back in once he could throw it over you. "and i'll let you pick the first movie."

with a roll of your eyes, you reached for the controller. "what a gentleman."

wen junhui

your life was truly, sincerely, over. this was it. this was the big one. the big fuck-up that would kill you from embarrassment alone. if you were a sim in the sims 4, little sim jihoon would be sobbing over your body right now as the grim reaper came to take you away.

instead, he was just stiffling his laughter, patting the top of your head as you bury your face in a pillow. "it's not that bad."

"it's terrible! i was only posting that picture because we looked good!" you jerked up, staring at him. "and--and jun liked it! did he not read the caption?!"

"oh, he read it," soonyoung was doing something unholy in the kitchen, from the sounds of the ketchup bottle being opened alongside the smell of mayo. not another thing to ruin your day. "he's on his way home, by the way."

yep, this was how you died. surrounded by two of your roommates and being confronted by the guy you've had feelings for for... fuck, how long had you known him? since college? he'd been there for you after a particularly nasty breakup not long after the two of you met, and that was when your stupid heart fell for him. you'd always pushed back against it: it wasn't the right time. he was dating someone at one point. he wouldn't like you back. but the more the two of you started spending time alone, the deeper you fell.

"have you thought about just telling him how you feel?" jihoon asked, stealing your pillow and hugging it against his chest. "i know it's scary, but i don't think it'd go badly."

soonyoung looked over, condiments smeared on the outsides of his mouth as he chewed. he swallowed, wiping his face with a paper towel as he spoke, "even if he didn't like you, he'd let you down easily."

"soonyoung!" jihoon turned to face him. you rarely saw jihoon mad, but this had to be the closest.

soonyoung realized what he said. and immediately took off, shutting himself back into his room as jihoon raced to encounter him first. while he tried to jostle the door open, the yelling faded into background noise.

jun... what?

the apartment door opened after a while, wonwoo standing there with jun right behind him. without hesitating, you hopped up off of the couch, immediately excusing yourself as you went to hide in your own room. jun called after you, and you just shut the door behind you, face in your hands. this could not be happening. this wasn't happening. if soonyoung was telling the truth, and, because jihoon yelled at him, he definitely was... what now?

jun knocked on your door. everything outside of your room was silent now. if jihoon was chewing out soonyoung, you'd probably hear some of it. yet... quiet. peaceful quiet that you weren't exactly used to with this bunch.

"can we talk?" he spoke up after a moment. "i don't exactly get the caption, but... do you really think i have beautiful eyes?"

oh. he had no idea it was some meme you'd seen online that always reminded you of him. yet the gentle way he'd asked made your heart flutter all the same. you said nothing, just sitting with your back against the door.

"it's okay if you do." you could hear the sound of him moving, and slowly, it sounded as though he was sitting, too. "i... i think you have pretty eyes, too." was it possible to hear his uneasy smile in the way his voice shook just a little, his nerves so, so evident? "the others left, by the way. so we could talk. wonwoo was confused, but jihoon dragged both him and soonyoung out for a walk."

that answered one question, at least. again, you just said nothing, curling up as tight as you could. your heart hammered in your ears, and you shut your eyes. was this really happening?

"i've liked you for a long time," he said, voice just as gentle as it was before. like he, too, was scared of what this all meant. the two of you were crossing a line you never thought you'd even tread near, let alone vault over. "it's okay if you don't feel the exact same way. but... you're sweet. and i--"

you bit the bullet. you got up, opening your door to see jun turning to face you. he'd been sitting there, back against the door, talking to the air while you'd been too scared to face him. he stood up as quickly as he could, watching you carefully.

he was the one who spoke first. "hi."

"hi." you said it back, heart racing. "i think you're beautiful."

and oh-so-shyly he smiled back at you. "i... think you're beautiful, too."

maybe this would be the start of something good.

kwon soonyoung

with your eyes screwed shut, you knew that seungcheol was going to give you so, so much shit about this when you told him. knowing your luck, it was going to go horribly, and you'd probably die right here and it'd be your ghost haunting seungcheol... but that was something you could deal with.

yet the moment 'tiger kwon' popped up on your phone, you knew you couldn't avoid this forever. you'd pester soonyoung later for changing his name in your phone again. for now, you just answered the request for a video call, and you were met with those pretty eyes staring at you in the low light.

"hi." he giggled. "i don't think that text was meant for me."

astute observation, considering the first three messages before you gushed about his eyes and called him beautiful were "FUCK" and "CHEOL I CAN'T DO THIS" and then a picture of the two of you from when you grabbed dinner together earlier. you expressed your romantic frustrations in the only way you knew how: a screenshot you'd seen of someone's tweet. the same thing you'd said to seungcheol many, many times before.

"so what does that even mean?" he's grinning, and you knew that it's half-genuine. he was smart enough to get the gist of it (to put it simply: you were, as you'd been told, down bad) but you weren't sure how often soonyoung saw memes like this. he was watching your face, those cute eyes shining with the light from his phone screen, and he rolled onto his stomach. "when did you get worse at technology than me?"

was this what confessing to soonyoung would bring? a lifetime of having a cute man tease you oh-so-lovingly?

"are you alive?"

you managed to squeak out a deeply embarrassed, "yep."

he just giggled, head resting on his hand. "do you text seungcheol like that a lot?" he waited. and when you didn't answer, too embarrassed to speak, he continued on, "i think he and jihoon trade war stories, then. jihoon..." his cheeks were dusted red. "jihoon hears a lot about you."

holy fuck. your stomach was doing flips. "soonyoung?"

"this is embarrassing, isn't it?" he chuckled, eyes focusing on his screen again. "jihoon said it's some sort of joke. vernon showed it to him once. but... i think you're beautiful, too."

truly, this man would be the death of you if he kept smiling at you like that. like you were his world already, eyes shiny and cheeks red.

"i..." your mouth felt dry. "can we... maybe... a date?" something about seeing his face right now made your mind go blank.

he chuckled. "i'm free this weekend," he said, still smiling. "we'll talk tomorrow morning. okay?"

"okay." you licked your lips, just trying to come down from this high. "goodnight."

the moment he ended the call, you were texting seungcheol: LET'S FUCKING GO GOT A DATE W SOONYOUNG!!!

and in return, he sent you three words: about fucking time.

jeon wonwoo

people always warned you about marrying the love of your life. the honeymoon period was something strong, that tinted your days with sugary kisses and honeyed skies until it all dissolved when reality washed back over the two of you. yet you had been married to wonwoo for two years now, and that sweetness never seemed to melt from your lives. the honeymoon period was over, yes, but the work you put into your relationship kept things lively. arguments came and went, and you always found yourself enamored with the man who guarded your heart in the same way you guarded his.

that was why anniversaries were special. not because they were another milestone, another celebration of a year the two of you made together... but an excuse to gush about wonwoo. you kept it to two days in particular: your wedding anniversary, and his birthday, both dates set months apart. wonwoo was different than you, however: he didn't want to broadcast his feelings for the world to see. he reserved all the sweet things for words he physically wrote down for you to read, or as things he said to you outright when he was sappy enough.

and you? well... he knew your true feelings would never be one-hundred-percent out there. those were reserved for him. but if you wanted to gush about how much you loved him, then who was he to stop you?

he'd been scrolling through his instagram feed that night while brushing his teeth, only to snort when he finished reading your post. the duality of your relationship was beautiful: he'd posted a short, sweet caption for you underneath a lovely quote from a book the two of you loved. and you had gushed... and finished it off with a meme that you sent to him the moment you saw it. i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful. the same words you teased him with when you were in a particularly playful mood.

so when he returned to you, he just crawled into bed, pressing kisses against your face. his affectionate moods would always take you by surprise, and he was glad for that. it spiced up the relationship just a little that he was still able to surprise you after all this time.

"you're so cute," he curled up with you, pulling you into his arms. "happy anniversary. i love you."

you snorted a little. "i see you've noticed."

"should i have read it sooner?"

you waved him off, "no, no... i'm glad you didn't see it until now. check the comments when you get the chance. a bunch of your friends loved it."

he was sure that they did. they all seemed to adore the duality of the two of you more than he did. the quiet, studious wonwoo and his silly love who made him laugh more than anyone else. but he knew as well as you did: no one would love your dynamic more than the two of you did.

he was your home, just as you had become his.

lee jihoon

all jihoon wanted to do was ask if you wanted to go to dinner. he'd suggested a place, you'd suggested another, and he mentioned not wanting that kind of cuisine... only for the words to appear on his phone within the next few minutes: i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.

... beautiful?

"soonyoung!" he yelled out for one of his housemates. if he wasn't here, then seungcheol would come in. yet he heard the sound of footsteps quickly approaching, soonyoung sliding against the wooden floor a little as he looked in. "read this."

so he did. he read it once, and then again before looking up. "... they're flirting with you, i think."

"that's weird, right?" jihoon looked up. "they don't like me back."

"how do you know that?" soonyoung grinned, leaning against the empty doorframe. "you don't know that. they're hitting on you. shoot your shot."

"i'm not going to--"

his phone started to ring. he looked down, wide-eyed, as he realized you started to call him. before he could debate denying the call and pretending the text never came, soonyoung bolted forward, answering it before immediately leaving his room. the little shit--

"oh my god," you said, "i'm so, so fucking sorry--mingyu's here and i was trying to look up other places to eat on my laptop, and he had the bright idea to text you that shit. i left my phone alone for one minute, and this is what happened--"

"why would he text me that?" jihoon could feel his heart begin to hammer in his chest. why would mingyu tease him like that? mingyu knew that you were off limits when it came to this kind of thing. unless...

"i--well, i--" you stammered, all sentences melting in your mouth before you finally let out a long sigh. in the background, he could hear mingyu begin to laugh. "shut up!" and then the sound of a door slamming behind you. "fucking--" you let out a sigh. "sorry. made the mistake of putting you on speaker."

"that's okay." jihoon leaned against the back of the chair. "but my question...?"

with another sigh, he could hear you settle into something. a chair, a couch--he wasn't sure. "this isn't how i wanted this to go... but... i like you. and i guess mingyu's had enough of hearing about it. it's okay if you don't feel the same, but... that's all."

quiet. neither of you moved to speak, to pitch another restaurant to go to. jihoon opened a new tab on his browser, already typing in a new search for the best places to take a first date.

"jihoon?"

no point in not taking the leap now. you'd already taken the first step: he could do the next one. "can... can tonight be our first date, then? instead of us getting dinner as friends."

quiet.

"jihoon..." your voice was soft. "i'd love that."

note to self: thank mingyu.

xu minghao

"what does this mean?" minghao looked up from his phone, where you could clearly see the post you'd made earlier. it was a combination of candids and the actual pretty pictures you'd taken of him, all captioned with a joke. he began typing something out, "we bickered about toast this morning."

"oh my god, hao--"

then your phone buzzed. you looked down, and there it was: minghao calling you out on your own damn post. when you looked up from your phone, he just had that stupid smug grin on his face. he crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair as he waited for you to defend yourself.

"it's a joke. it's a meme. maybe you should learn them, old man."

he rolled his eyes. "it's a lie and i'm not standing for it. everyone knows that we argue about everything."

even before the two of you started dating, you'd bicker about the smallest things. none of it was ever serious--the two of you had only fought a handful of times in the entirety of knowing one another--but you remembered the annoyed look you would get sometimes. just go make out already had been what his friends would say. eventually, it turned into mingyu telling minghao to go ahead and give you the marriage papers already. the two of you were in it for life, weren't you?

which, ultimately, turned into you and minghao bickering about that, too. the two of you hadn't even been dating at the time, but you would both be lying if you said that conversation hadn't made the two of you figure out your feelings. you'd retorted that minghao wouldn't get along with your parents like that, leading to him actively calling them to prove that, yes, in fact, he would.

(you would simply never live down both of them going "he isn't your boyfriend? we were waiting for you to be ready to tell us," and the subsequent call where your mother chewed you out for hanging up on her right after.)

"we don't argue about everything."

minghao gave you a pointed look. "strawberry jam."

you pinched the bridge of your nose. "not this shit again. i thought we agreed that butter is--"

... fuck, he was proving his point.

"fine," you said. "we bicker a lot. doesn't mean i can't lie via meme."

he just smiled, happy to have won whatever little argument this almost turned into. "everyone knows this is our love language," he said, head resting in his hand. "but fine. you can lie through your memes."

and thus he put the two of you on equal grounds once again: a truce, in a sense. just like most of your little debates ended in.

kim mingyu

"you know you could just call me pretty if you wanted to."

your face burned at the way mingyu was giggling now. all you did was text him a meme (yes, from the other end of the couch) and wait for his response. he'd read it under his breath before bursting into giggles, so, so enamored with the way that you were. he always had been: mingyu, unlike you, wasn't shy when it came to his affection. he complimented you constantly on anything and everything, whether it be your appearance or the way you rambled to him or the way you clammed up "all cutely embarrassed" (his words, not yours) when you realized just how much you said. you told him once that you weren't the most open about your feelings or the loudest.

and he'd merely kissed your forehead and said that was okay. he was loud enough for the both of you. if loving him quietly meant that you loved him, then that was all that mattered to him.

you whined his name at him, trying to hide your face. you knew that you always would get this doe-eyed, dreamy look on your face whenever he teased you like this. you caught a glimpse of it in a mirror once when you were at a store buying furniture, and swore to yourself you'd never let him catch you like this so obviously ever again.

of course, that was moot because mingyu saw that sappy look on your face and treasured it every time... but for your own sake, you couldn't let him notice.

yet he laughed anyway, crawling over to pull your hands away from your face. "i mean it!" he squished your cheeks, "just call me pretty next time. that's what you wanted to say, right?"

you pushed his hands away from your face, just so that you could speak clearly. "i think you have pretty eyes."

his smile dropped, eyes going wide. and he slowly pulled away, face turning redder by the second as he turned from you. "you can't just say it like that! i wasn't prepared!"

you felt a little bold this time. "whatever you say, beautiful--"

the groan that mingyu let out, fully flustered by you now, only made you feel more confident in teasing him. no wonder his friends loved to pick on him... he was so cute about it.

lee seokmin

the minute you finished saying it, seokmin had burst into giggles. all because you wanted to jokingly flirt with your beloved and see his reaction. he had looked up from his phone, where he'd been idly googling to find dinner options, and then you could see those gears turning before he started laughing.

"really?" he reached over, drawing you into his arms. "so you won't argue with me tonight?" seokmin squished your cheeks to pucker your lips, planting an loud kiss against them. "all because you think i'm beautiful?"

you just fought back a laugh, reaching up to toy with the hair at the base of his neck. "whatever you want, beautiful."

another giggle burst past his lips, and he dropped one hand down, sliding it up your thigh. "do you mean it? or are you just flirting with me?" he gently squeezed your thigh, just a little. "you don't have to flirt with me like that. i'm already yours."

ever the romantic. you drew him in for another quick kiss, soflty laughing against his lips. "gotta keep you here somehow," you teased. "it's hard to compete with you when you're mister perfect."

his nose brushed against your own. "i think you keep up just fine." he paused, drumming his fingers against the outside of your thigh idly. "can i confess something?"

you watched him curiously. "huh?"

"your best friend..." his hand slid up to your hip before he loosely draped his arms around your waist. "when we got together, they messaged me to tell me you talk about my eyes a lot."

oh no. "you know you have pretty eyes--"

"like a baby seal." he giggled. "and something about having puppy dog eyes, too."

ohhh no. of course they'd rat you out. "but am i wrong?"

he just nuzzled his nose against your own for a minute, planting a tiny kiss against the tip of it. "i just like you. you're so silly, it's cute."

with a smile, you just settled against him. "i mean it, though. pick wherever you want, beautiful." his giggles only made you happier. "i'll pay."

boo seungkwan

"chan and i bicker less than we do."

seungkwan wasn't phased by your flirty word or the way you were trying to call him beautiful (my boo-tiful boo, if your silly phone contact was anything to go by). he just looked up from his phone with a flat expression, which... probably meant he saw that post somewhere for himself. the lack of originality probably also got you here.

"okay, fine, that's true," you said, rolling your eyes. "you're still beautiful, though."

"i know that," he said. "but we argue a lot over silly stuff. vernon said he thinks it's a love language."

another roll of your eyes. "seungkwan, we don't argue that much."

"don't we? remember that time the neighbors got concerned because we got a little too heated about the way one of our dramas ended?" he crossed his arms. "i still think the ending was good, but you got angry over the way it tried to incorporate greek myth and--"

"it was incorporating greek tragedy and didn't give it the sad ending!" you threw your hands up in the air. "don't promote it as being based on the myth if you aren't going to have a tragic ending!"

"it didn't have to! it was a retelling! things don't have to adhere strictly to--"

chan's door opened, and he walked out of his room. he looked at the two of you before groaning. "this fight again?"

"we're not arguing!" the two of you said together, turning to face him.

chan just rolled his eyes, making his way over to the kitchen. "sure..." then he took one look at the two of you, shaking his head. "i'm going to see if yeonjun wants to go out. don't do anything until i'm gone or have headphones on."

"we don't--"

"you do. just keep arguing or whatever," he pulled out his phone, walking back to his room.

his door shut. and the two of you just looked at each other. seungkwan rolled his eyes, flopping back down on his end of the couch.

"i hate him," he said offhandedly, no venom behind it. you knew just as well as seungkwan did that if chan was in trouble, seungkwan would be one of the first to run there. "who does he think he is? he always acts as if he knows our relationship better than we do."

you slid over closer to him, and he lifted an arm so that you could cuddle in. "he's a jerk," you said, again, no real malice behind it at all. "you should come live with me."

he rolled his eyes. "you always say that." he turned his face, kissing your temple. "like we don't have plans already."

once his lease was up. but you just looked up at him, smiling a little. "whatever you say, beautiful."

that shy smile told you all you needed to know. keep calling me sweet things, then.

chwe vernon

"uh-huh." he didn't even look up from his phone, scrolling through his youtube history. "did i send you this video?"

you frowned. "you're not even going to say anything?"

"you've used that on me before." he continued to scroll. he looked up for just a moment. "also, i'm thinkin'... maybe we could go get tacos for lunch? haven't been to that place in a while." vernon turned his attention back to his phone. "i'm down for whatever, though."

with a groan, you slumped into the couch, already googling for cheesy pick-up lines. the back-up plan, always, for when you need to tease your boyfriend. "hey, nonny? do you have a map--"

"because you're lost in my eyes," he said without missing a beat. "actually, i'm really craving tacos now. i think we could get an order to-go if you don't feel like going out."

he hated you. this had to explain everything. "do you believe in love at first sight--"

"i might," he moved over so that he was closer to you, pulling your legs into his lap. "so, were you being legit about the not arguing thing? because i might take my chance and order anyway."

with a roll of your eyes, you gave up. you weren't going to win this time around. "get your tacos, beautiful," you reached up, turning his face toward you. "i'll pay."

he snorted, bursting into giggles as he leaned over to kiss you. "you're such a dork."

you just smiled into his kiss. "but you love it."

lee chan

you loved confusing chan so, so much. all he did was ask what you wanted for dinner, and you hit him back with "whatever you want, beautiful. i'm not gonna argue with a man who has big brown eyes." thus began the confused looks as he looked at you, then his phone, unsure of how to respond to that.

"... what?"

"i said we can get whatever you want," you shrugged. "i'm not picky--"

"that's not what you said." he frowned just a little, clearly aware that you were teasing him in some way... but not quite connecting the dots quite yet. "you never call me beautiful," was what he settled on a moment later.

which was true. you often opted to call him handsome, usually with a soft laugh and a smile that showed just how endeared to him you really were. on occasion, you'd call something about him pretty--the way he styled his hair, or the makeup he wore once when mingyu roped him into being a model for him--but beautiful? as much as you thought he was (chan deserved all the complimentary words, in your humble, unbiased opinion), you'd never voiced that opinion to him directly. the closest was the time you told one of your friends that he had beautiful eyes.

he narrowed his eyes at you. "is this a joke?" for a split second, he glanced down at the phone in your hands. "... are you recording?"

"i can't call my man 'beautiful'?" you put on a fake pout, just to tease him further. "you really think i'm cruel enough to make fun of you like that?"

chan, however, knew you. he knew that you were easily swayed into pulling pranks on him. that time he introduced you to jeonghan was enough proof of that--and every subsequent trip with his friends always seemed to result in them picking out his weak spot and turning you against him, just for a simple joke. if it bothered him, he would have said something... but it did leave him fully aware that you were the kind of person to lovingly tease him.

lovingly, he told himself. he knew it was. but sometimes he wondered if you were put on this planet just to mess with him in a way he'd secretly love. if you were going to be the death of him, then at least he'd die loving you.

"okay." he made his way over, pulling up a restaurant. he showed you his screen, and immediately you focused on the fact that this place was far from cheap. "i want to go here."

"channie, we--"

"you just said you weren't going to argue," he smiled at you, leaning against you. "hm?"

with a sigh, you shook your head. "whatever you want, beautiful," you reached up. "i'll just eat ramen for the next few weeks--"

he snorted, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "just book it for our anniversary, then." he paused for a moment, just watching you with a tiny smile. "... do you really think i have beautiful eyes?"

how could you say anything other than 'yes' when he was staring at you with them?

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog

@actuallynarii @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunnyunny

[sweet-as-an-angel]

König w/ a Petite S/O

Warnings: 18+, Implications of smut, brief descriptions of smut, implications of masturbation, no pronouns used for Reader except 'You', fluff, teasing, soft König, mention of being stood up, profanity, etc.

AAAAAHHH

Before you and König even started dating, he often saw you around, and, as one's first thought of him would likely have been 'Tall', his first thought of you had been 'Small'.

More specifically, tiny perfect petite little angel for whom he had a nigh-baseless obsession over.

His hulking frame belied the agony he felt whenever confronted with the possibility of having to talk to anyone.

But you weren't just anyone.

Yet, he was still shit-scared that he'd end up making a fool of himself when he eventually plucked up the courage to speak to you, but his desperation to just hear you, to put a voice to your face, almost outweighed that crushing terror.

Almost.

You ended up initiating a conversation first upon seeing him reading the same book as you.

Your initial introduction seemed to make him jump out of his skin, but as you eased into a conversation, one which König became more and more responsive to, any social fear he'd felt thawed, giving way to an intellectual, eloquent König he often reserved for his thoughts alone; conversations with authors long dead and buried.

It all blossomed up from there.

The closer you become, the more comfortable König was with having physical contact with you, though he has dreamed of it for many nights prior to your meeting.

He was more concerned that you wouldn't be comfortable with him, but you surprised him by initiating first, linking your arm with his as you walked back from a movie theatre one evening.

The gesture was not inherently romantic, nor was it indicative of mere friendship. Somewhere right in the middle - an ephemeral in-between.

After that, König felt more confident with initiating first.

But he didn't want to seem too desperate.

You were back at his apartment (a common occurrence now, your friendship three months strong), watching a horror film, when a particular twist had you jumping, wanting to grip onto something for dear life.

König is an extremely attentive man, and he noticed this, and how you (conveniently) had nothing to hold onto.

Except for...

König took a leap of faith and slid his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

You looked up at him, the fear stiffening your features softening.

When you didn't pull away, König took that small step towards his (and hopefully your) end goal, already having breached the first chasm.

"Don't worry," he said, his accented voice light yet serious, eyes gleaming with promise. "I'll protect you."

From then on, you held hands everywhere you went.

'Platonically', of course (for now, at least).

König marveled at how much smaller your hand was than his.

He has a weak spot for when you wrap your fingers around just one of his fingers, making him feel even bigger than he already is.

His mind often strayed into muddy waters, wondering how big his cock would feel in your tiny hands - in your mouth.

König's not stupid; he knows he's massive compared to the average (and above-average) man.

But to have you see how big he is, to give him a doe-eyed look as you ask him if it'll "even fit", makes him unbelievably hard.

Has jacked off to the idea of that particular scenario multiple times, though he has felt the post-nut clarity and shame afterwards.

And yet, he still thought of you, your tiny body quivering and cum-drenched beneath him, used and spent after a long night with him.

It would seem our Austrian friend has been manifesting this whole time as, as luck would have it, that exact scenario occurred one evening after König had returned from a long mission.

You'd known each other for little over a year at that point, the romantic tension (or what König perceived as romantic tension) palpable between the two of you.

You'd come over to König's after your date (who König prayed would just disappear) stood you up.

Believe it or not, König actually had nothing to do with their disappearance, and for that he felt even worse.

At least then he knew they'd have a reason to not see you. But he was just as much in the dark as you were.

And you cried. Rightfully so.

You'd been looking forward to this date all week, and now you were left with a shattered ego and buckets of embarrassment strapped to your person like weights.

"Am I not attractive enough?" you hiccuped through tears, to which König vehemently shook his head.

You are the most enchanting creature I have ever seen, he wanted to say. But he couldn't. Not now. Not while you were vulnerable.

"Then why didn't he show up?" Your voice was partially muffled when you buried your head into the cushion König had supplied you with.

König's blood boiled beneath his skin, his teeth clenched and his hands balled into fists.

Someone - some bastard - had wasted an opportunity he'd have killed for.

Now he was almost wishing he had. Killed that fucker and taken you out instead.

König shuffled closer, already close enough that he could hear your hushed sobs.

He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed.

That seemed to make you feel better as you peeked up at König from the cushion.

"Can't believe I nearly missed our movie night for that prick."

"But you're here now, aren't you?" König said, softly, running a hand through your hair. "That's all that matters."

One thing led to another, and within the hour you were lay beside König, bedsheets crumpled and pulled just to your collarbones.

Your chest heaved as you regained your breath, body coated in a thin sheen of sweat, both yours and König's, the area between your legs wet and warm.

König had regained his breath and cautioned a look at you.

You were smiling. Whether it was the dopamine rush, your incredulity as to the evening's turn of events, or the fact that you'd finally done something you'd dreamed of for months.

You turned to König, catching the lulling glint in his eye.

"Well?" he said, smiling lazily. "Feel any better?"

General Headcanons

I've said it for Ghost, and I'm saying it here:

SIZE. KINK.

König thinks your height - or lack thereof - is something to behold in the same way that a kitten's mere existence can bring YouTube to its knees.

He holds you at any given opportunity: around your waist, by your ankle (when you're play-fighting), your hand - anywhere.

Enjoys teasing you, though does so very rarely (he's scared he might actually cause you to leave one day if he's too persistent).

Genuinely cannot get over how small you are. Like, how are you so small? Can't you just...be bigger?

Not that he would love you more if you were bigger, but given his sheer mass, he just cannot wrap his head around the fact that someone as tiny as yourself exists.

Then König remembers that people have said similar things to him - telling him to "Stop growing," (though in jest), and how he was gifted his height as you were gifted your lack thereof.

Will destroy anyone who even looks at you wrong.

And it won't be difficult for him to. Just look at him.

Goes feral insane manwhore mode if you sit on his chest and put your hands on him.

You look even smaller from where he's lay (even though you're on top).

Feels like he ascends every time you ask him to pass you something that's too high up for you to reach.

Does hide things higher up or in places you won't find them because he wants you to keep asking him to get you things.

Wear his shirts when he's around and he will literally die.

Has a thing about ownership when it comes to you. He just wants to have and possess every molecule of you.

And König will tear the skin from anyone or anything that stands in his way.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ lay down with me ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: they find out maybe bars aren't all the same. content warnings: alcohol, suggestive talk. not proof read. word count: 2.1k

"Were you... Brushing your teeth?" Yeah he was. And yeah they were still on the jet, but as soon as they got back to HQ he would be on his car for the 45min ride to Arlington to see you. He couldn't risk bad breath on your first date.

Before Aaron could even answer Emily's inconvenient question, Derek came in with another one "Hair freshly cut too, anyone noticed it?" Well he cut his own hair, it would be simply rude not to look his best when he so easily could.

He knew JJ was coming in with something too when she passed by him, so he had to cut it out before "Hey, enough. I’m meeting an old friend after work, just trying to use my time wisely here." His eyes scanned the room for the reactions and even though no one replied, he could see all the little smirking around and whispering between Emily and Derek mostly.

So much for a private life.

He's not the hiding type, if he's in a relationship he has no problem letting people know it, as long as that is it, he enjoys keeping the details to himself. And right now that's all he can really say about you, you're an old friend, just an old friend.

For now.

He was running late now, and very stressed about it. Of course it wasn't the greatest of ideas to go from Quantico to Arlington by driving instead of taking the train, but he wanted to have the choice to take you somewhere else if you wanted to and to get you home safe when the date ended. He was also aware that trains didn't run as late as he might be staying.

He planned the haircut, the hotel shower right before leaving, brushing his teeth while in the jet, having his car ready, but God, did he not plan for the traffic he would have to deal with after 6PM.

But he's a gentleman, so he calls from the car system to warn you about it and he's nervous and anxious because not being present enough and being late or not there at all ruined his marriage and he wants to do better, he really really wants to.

"Oh don't worry babe, I’m still enjoying my wine in my living room. Thought it would be better to wait 'til you were in town to leave, yeah?" Aaron hopes the loud sigh of relief he let out isn't so obvious to you, but it is. You find it endearing. You were reading essays still just minutes ago, you understood him.

You weren't very sure how well would you two work considering that. But you sure as hell wasn't going to give up without at least trying it. And definitely not without a fight.

"Send me your location then, I'll pick you up in... Twenty."

"Uuuh, picking me up? Look at us, it's a real date date now, curfew's at 10PM then, don't forget it." You make him laugh easily with that, your father was a strict man, sometimes you both went to the movies or the park nearby and if you got home at 10:03 was enough for him to sit Aaron down in your living room and tell him all about responsibilities and how he was the boy and so he was supposed to protect you and ensure you were home in time.

"I am curious about what the consequences of not following the curfew will be this time though." Oh he's teasing you now, as if this wasn't your first date and the implications of consequences weren't so... Suggestive, to say the least. But he feels comfortable enough for that.

"Guess you'll have to wait and see then, agent Hotchner." Your voice drips like honey and he's pretty sure he just figured out some sort of deep ingrained fetish he didn't know he had until now. "See you soon, airhead!" You laugh innocently before finishing the call and it drives him mad in the most delicious way.

He thinks those are the most torturous 27 minutes he's ever had to go through his life, but the feeling is completely overrun with almost childish glee as he parks in front of your house. He could fit the choice for a house instead of an apartment easily on your own profile but he didn't need too, you liked your space. Apartments have no space. No privacy. He remembers vividly of a conversation you both had after your cousins were forced into an apartment because of your aunt's divorce.

He dries his palms on his pants quickly not sure if he should go to your door, stay where he is or what. He hasn't done this, the whole date ordeal in a while and it just got to him that he has no idea how people do it these days. What's too much or too little?

Aaron finally decides on leaving the car and waiting near by, after sending you a quick text to inform you he was there. It was a middle ground of sorts, he felt confident in it. Kinda.

It doesn't take you long to leave and lock your door and the sight of you immediately takes his breath away, your smile takes him back some years but your thighs remind him quickly that you are both definitely not fifteen anymore. He shakes his head softly, directing his eyes to a more suitable place for a first date: Your hands. You were holding a flower bouquet.

Flowers.

"Fuck." He mutters to himself in frustration, "I forgot to bring you flowers." You don't seem bothered about it, in fact it makes you smile more as you hand him the bouquet in your hands. "You got these... For me?" Aaron grabs the gift softly with both hands, afraid he's going to break it somehow.

"Yeah, wanted to test my theory that you're still a sap." The way his eyes were shining and his lips turned into the sweetest of smiles were enough proof to you. Aaron was always loving, caring, soft. It was interesting seeing him on the news nowdays, stoic, serious, unbothered. You wanted to see how easy it was to break him.

Turns out very easy. At least to you.

"A sap! I’m surprised I got flowers from a beautiful woman, sue me." He opens the passenger door so you can get in, which you quickly do with a cheeky smile on your face, the gift is carefully placed on the backseat before he's back to your side, seat belt on. Nosy as you are, you're already typing some address on the GPS.

"I heard people talking really good things about this place." You muse while he turns the car on, already following the instructions. "Apparently the beer is great and it stays open til late." He doesn't ask for any clarifications, if that's where you want to go, that's where he'll take you.

The food you've both ordered hasn't arrived at your table yet but Aaron has already gulped down two large beers and is trying so very hard to not show how annoyed he is, it makes you laugh, hard. He follows, laughing along and shaking his head.

"Who told you about this place?" He asks accusingly, you take a sip of your own drink and pretend you didn't hear it. "Who?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"Your students then. You trusted a bunch of twenty somethings with our date. Pitiful." You don't reply, instead you just keep laughing to yourself while you drink. The place is loud. Loud music. Loud college students. Loud busy street. You tell him that's exactly the type of place you would hang out with your girl friends to hook up back in London, his experience isn't the same, the lover boy committed since high school.

"How do they even get to know each other over this nooooise?" Laughing at his annoyance only lasts so long and now you're the one not being able to sort through your thoughts, the food is good though, you both agree while munching on the appetizers that accompany the beer.

In retrospect you should've imagined it would be this time of place by the countless mentions of beer whenever a student recommended it.

"Look around, I don't think they're actually trying to." You follow his gaze and notice that as the hours passed, the more couples formed and the less they were actually talking. Exactly as it was in your own college days. "I'm a bit tipsy so I'll let my curiosity win, you never told me why you divorced the second time." It was out of the blue, you told him the first one wasn't that bad, conflicting views on family and you both married too early in the relationship. The second one was... Harsher.

"Bastard cheated on me." You shrugged, but it was obvious it still got to you, Aaron could see it in your eyes, in your voice tone, and that had nothing to do with being a behavior analyst, and everything to do about how he just... Knew you. "His whore also pressed charges against me when I wasn't even trying to hit her, she just got in the way." He chocked on his beer and almost had to spit it out after that tiny little piece of information you hadn't mentioned before.

"You have a record?"

"He made her drop the charges when I left the apartment to him without a fight. That's why I moved back to the states." He blinks once, twice. Maybe he should be worried, but he also knew that could get a bit aggressive when losing control. Just it always happened to terrible people. "I'm obviously joking, airhead." The relief he feels is followed by an annoyed face for believing such a lie, you touch his forehead softy, smoothing the lines so he doesn't look mad anymore. He takes it as a sign, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles, then your hand, and pulls you to him, letting go to touch your chin.

If he wasn't drinking the proximity would inebriate him alone, the way your eyes closed and your cheeks blushed in anticipation, he's sweet, lips touching yours with tender patience, much more patient than you, you who lifted your body just a bit from the chair and pulled him by his collar to deepen the kiss, almost causing a disaster if any of you fell over the table with all the glass cups.

You let him go just after hearing some snickering from the table behind yours, not blaming them for it, it probably looked like an awkward kiss from the outside. But it wasn't.

"That was certainly better than our first one..." You smile sheepishly at him, putting your hands on your lap, nervous.

"You blushed and gripped my shirt." He says looking deep into your eyes, making you tilt your head slightly, showing him your confusion. "It's been thirty years, you did the same thing... You blushed and gripped my shirt."

"So you're telling me you make me feel like a school girl."

"I'm telling you you've just acted like one." You take the comment as a challenge, getting up and taking your chair with you to sit closer to him, brushing your lips to his before going to his ear.

"You're drunk and staying over, so why don't we get a taxi and I'll show you the school girl." You can see the way his neck shivers at your little teasing, but he takes advantage of the new found closeness to kiss you again, with much more hunger but also much faster than the first because he's ready to pay the tab and get out of there.

It wasn't really that hard to find a taxi, being a night time neighborhood, they knew to stay around. Aaron had your bag on one of his hands and the other on your thigh. Your arms went around his and your head laid on his shoulder. None of you talked the whole way there, just feeling each other's presence and the alcohol twirling around your minds and your stomachs.

And you did show him you were not a school girl anymore when you both got to your house: You got him your largest t-shirt and pajama pants, your coziest blanket and after you both changed and took aspirins to try and prevent the headache that would inevitably come, you got your pillows and went to the living room and laid on your big couch with Aaron, cuddling with him as some TV show re-run lured you both to sleep.

It was almost 2AM, and while you could take him to your bedroom and take his clothes off like you wanted to, you both knew it was the middle of the week, he had to wake up early to get his car, you would probably pass out under him anyway.

Cuddling was more than enough for a first date. And at least for Aaron, he was sure he wouldn't let go of your embrace anytime soon.

[munsons-melody]

starchild’s competition

18+ Minors, DNI.

summary: dustin’s noticed your odd behavior and takes it upon himself to figure out what’s going on. little does he know, you’ve fallen in love with the dungeon master of his dnd club.

pairing: eddie munson x female!henderson!reader

cw: almost smut? implications of sex, kissing, etc. bit of fluff / bit of smut

word count: 5.1 k

a/n: this is one of my favorite things i’ve ever written, definitely thinking of making a pt. 2… also apologies for the spacing on this one, it didn’t like me pasting my writing from wattpad to tumblr lol

masterlist

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

—

dustin henderson never snooped... okay that was a lie, he only snooped when he knew he needed to, like today

you and dustin had grown up as close siblings. without your dad in the picture, moving to hawkins when you were 14 and he was 9, and living with your single mom, you knew you had to take care of each other

obviously, you two had run-of-the-mill spats with each other as every sibling has with one another, but you two still loved each other very much

even the times when he's tackled you in order to get the last pop tart, in which you would snatch it back from him, just for him to say 'no collarbones' to tug on your heartstrings and you'd end up giving it to him anyways

but these past few weeks had been very different, you were different

you were always out late, and if you weren't already out late, you were pretending to go to bed early just to sneak out of your window to be out late

you were never really in the house anymore, and when you were, there would be an odd smell coming from your room

dustin was became confused on why you never had much time to drive him to hellfire or bother steve together at family video anymore, and he was confused on why you would always finish dinner quickly then go straight to your room or why you'd always have some metal song playing in your walkman (a genre he didn't even know you owned cassettes of)

but little did he know the reason why was because you had accidentally fallen in love with one of his best friends and the dungeon master of his dnd club... eddie munson

and truth be told it was an accident.

you and eddie had always inconspicuously flirted with one another. it occurred whenever you would drop off dustin at hellfire, or when eddie would come up to the kitchen during one of the campaign's breaks to see you before the rest of the party would come up from the basement of your house

the two of you would talk, laugh, make jokes, and much to dustins knowledge, he knew that neither of you would try anything, i mean you couldn't right?

wrong. after a few weeks, eddie formally asked you out. it was for a nice romantic picnic out by lovers lake. you said yes, seeing as the cute metalhead in front of you already had you wrapped around his finger, and one date couldn't hurt...

but more dates did occur- watching corroded coffin play at the hideout, sneaking out to smoke at his house, making out in the back of his van with music blaring in the background, and having him over to study since you two "had the same history class and were made partners by your teacher" - which is what you always told dustin

you couldn't help it, the two of you just naturally gravitated toward each other, but you still didn't tell dustin, or really anyone for that matter. you loved your little bubble that you built together over the past couple months and the fear of scrutiny from other party members, especially your little brother, would burst it

but nonetheless, dustin grew suspicious of his sister, suddenly acting secretive and dodgy

you had left to go to the mall with nancy and robin earlier in the evening and it gave dustin his opportunity. he quietly walked out of his room and into yours

he closed your door quietly behind him, and he scanned your room. he didn't find anything out of the ordinary at first, till he noticed some cassettes and a piece of paper on your dresser

intrigued, he walked over and picked them up. there were four cassettes you had sitting there, metallica's ride the lighting, dynasty and love gun by kiss, and heaven and hell by black sabbath

he picked up the piece of paper that looked a little crumpled and opened it up to read

here's a couple of my favorites, i hope you love them too... p.s., I'm dedicating track no. 1 on dynasty to you -starchild's competition

"starchild's competition? what the fuck does that even mean?" he said out loud to himself

out of curiosity, he took the dynasty cassette and decided to play track number one, seeing as it was dedicated to his sister by a random guy competing with someone named starchild

little did he know, it was a stupid inside joke between you and eddie

you two were smoking in his room and you had briefly mentioned your huge crush on paul stanley from kiss to eddie, to which he decided to tease you with, saying he was in competition with the huge star for your love and affection

at the time you didn't realized he signed the note with that, being a little too busy as you were high out of your mind, and he shoved the note and his cassettes into your bag for a cute surprise when you got home

dustin heard the familiar tune of 'i was made for loving you' ring through your room and he gagged

who is dedicating songs to her? he thought

continued to look around your room, finding a photo album peaking out from the side of your desk, hiding under a couple of school books

but his actions were soon interrupted as your door opened, and you spotted him

"what are you doing in my room" you asked with an annoyed tone

"oh uh... your stereo turned on and i was going to turn it off for you... good song choice by the way" he said stiffly as he awkwardly shuffled out of your room and into his

you shook your head at his weirdness and shut your door. you tossed the shopping bags you had onto your bed and shimmed off your jacket, tossing it onto your desk

you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a few hickies on your chest were showing that your jacket covered earlier

that was a byproduct of going over to eddies a few days beforehand. the two of you were going to try and do some homework but that soon turned into you on eddie's lap as the two of you feverishly made out

but it was soon interrupted by wayne who wanted to make sure the two of you had a proper dinner to "keep your studying energy up" so the two of you had to pull yourselves together and go eat the dinner wayne graciously made before he left for work

but, you were a little grateful for the interruption since it gave you an opportunity to buy a new and exciting piece of lingerie to surprise eddie with

-

the next night, you did your usual eat dinner fast then run back to your room routine, which you did in order to call eddie and talk to him

you two surprisingly never ran out of topics to talk about, and he never failed to make you laugh, which would end up with him wanting to see your "beautiful smile in person" and you would arrange for him to sneak into your room after your mom went to bed

the two of you were well into your honeymoon phase but neither of you minded

this particular evening, dustin and your mom were watching some movie and eating some ice cream for dessert when he heard a loud giggle from your room

"i'm going to go see if y/n wants some ice cream" dustin said, setting his bowl down and walking down the hallway

his steps were slow and quiet, your voice getting only slightly louder as he got closer to your door

"no baby i cannot tell you the surprise, you're gonna have to wait" he heard you giggle causing him to make a disgusted look on his face

okay, she clearly has a secret boyfriend which is why she's been acting so weird, he thought to himself, but he wondered who could it be for her to not tell anyone about

you're usually open about boys you like, especially the celebrity crushes you had which seemed to change every other week, so what's so special about this guy that she can't talk about him?

"mhm, yeah try and see if that works this time, cause it worked sooo great last time" you said with a sarcastic laugh

dustins ear pressed a little too close to the door causing it to creak open a little bit, catching your attention

he stood up straight and cleared his throat, knocking lightly to make it look like he had just got to your door. you muttered a "hold on" and lightly pressed the bottom half of your phone to your chest

"yes?" you questioned, and dustin blinked his wide eyes

"oh uh do you want ice cream for dessert?" he said and you smiled "sure, I'll be out in a sec, don't eat the rest of the chocolate please" you told him

he responded with a smile and nod, and closed the door to the way it was before and he heard you say a "it's my favorite flavor! it's not boring!" followed by another giggle

-

the next night was friday night

your mom had some PTA meeting and dinner meaning she would be out till late and dustin said he was going with lucas and mike to the arcade and then to mike's for a sleepover

you invited eddie over while the two of you were standing next to your locker

"yeah and my mom will be out all night at some PTA meeting and dustin's going to sleepover at mike's house, so it'll just be me... all alone... in an empty old house," you dragged the last part out causing a smirk to arise on eddie's face

"oh we can't have that now, can we?" eddie responded, taking his pointer finger and hooking it gently under your chin to pull you in for a kiss

"get a room you two" robin said arriving next to you

"its already booked" you rebutted back with a chuckle

you stayed there near your locker for a good few minutes, continuing to talk to robin who was just about to leave to catch her evening shift at the store. eventually the two of you said goodbye to her, walking out into the parking lot from the school

you drove home separately from eddie, telling him to come over at 5 and to park down the street not to draw attention and he gladly agreed

the clock was ticking down to 5 pm when your mom headed out the door

"i won't be back till late, bye sweeties!" she said as the door closed. now all who was left was dustin, standing next to you waving goodbye

"don't you have a sleepover at mikes or something?" you questioned

"yeah but i'm in no hurry to get there, i'll leave in a few minutes" he said when you noticed eddie's van drive past your house in order to park down the street causing your heart to drop

"you sure? didn't you guys want to go to the arcade too?" you asked, wanting him to leave already

"we're going but lucas can't meet us there till 5:15 so i have some time" he shrugged, sitting down on the couch causing you to mentally groan

your eyes widened as you saw eddie start to walk up your drive way

shit shit shit you said to yourself as he knocked on the door

dustin sat up "bet you 5 dollars mom forgot something" he joked, going towards the door before you even stepped your foot out

he quickly opened the door to reveal a very handsome eddie munson standing there with his dio t shirt and usual black jeans

"eddie? what are you doing here?" he asked. eddie looked like a deer caught in headlights. he quickly looked to you then back to dustin

"oh i uh just came by to uh... borrow your sisters history book... uh.. i lost my copy and we're partners for the class so..." he stammered out

dustin seemed to buy it as he let eddie into the house, and eddie gave you a smile

"well since you're here and i don't have to leave for a few minutes, can i ask your opinion on my new campaign?" dustin asked sweetly. eddie shrugged and muttered a sure before he was motioned to go down the hall to dustins room

you gave a sympathetic smile to him, and decided to head to the kitchen to get some water while you waited

you heard talking from the two of them down the hall, a few laughs here and there, when eventually the two of them emerged from dustins room, the clock reading 5:25

"oh shit I gotta go- hey since you're just here for a book and you're probably about to leave anyways, could you drop me off at the arcade? my bike should fit in the back of your van" he questioned and you could see the mental groan in eddie's eyes

"uh yeah sure" he said, looking to you. you giggled and walked past the boys, grabbing a random book from your desk and walking back to the living room, handing it to eddie

"thanks" he said. you could tell he was annoyed dustin was cockblocking him, and you tried not to laugh

"c'mon eddie i'm already late" dustin exclaimed, swinging a bag over his shoulder

"coming" he grumbled, looking at you once more before walking out the door, book in hand

you saw the two conversing as they walked down the street to where eddie's van was parked, dustin walking his bike next to him. you saw this as a chance to go change into your outfit for eddie's return.

you happily skipped into your room, shutting the door behind you. you went over to your underwear drawer where you stashed your new lingerie set, the red lacy fabric soft in your hands

you normally wouldn't wear a bright color such as this cherry red, opting for blacks since its what you felt most comfortable in, but you figured it'd be a nice change and such a surprise for your boyfriend

you quickly changed into the lingerie, taking a look at yourself in the mirror

"damn" you muttered out, feeling a new sense of confidence wash over you. you touched up the little bit of makeup you were wearing, and decided to fix your hair down, your hair cascading to your shoulders.

slight waves in your hair emerged from the bun you had it in earlier but you didn't mind since it added some life to your hair. you applied some of your favorite perfume to your wrists and behind your ears, and once you were satisfied with your look, you threw back on your sweatshirt and shorts.

you heard knocking at the front door, signaling eddie was back from driving dustin

you walked out of your room and opened the door to reveal an annoyed eddie. "that little fucker" he mumbled, walking in past you

"well hello to you too" you said jokingly. eddie turned to face you.

"hey sweetheart" he breathed out, before continuing his little rant

"he kept asking why i was parked so far from the house, so i told him it was cause i didn't want to block your driveway, then he asked why i had an English textbook if we were doing a history project together," he continued, handing you back the book you had previously handed him

"then he was annoyed when i said i was busy tonight and couldn't come to the arcade with him and his friends and he just kept on questioning everything i-" you cut him off by kissing him, catching him by surprise

"eds, calm down, he's gone now, its just the two of us, and it's not his fault he doesn't know what's really going on" you soothed, trying to calm your amped-up boyfriend

"you're right I'm sorry, it's just i wanted to be here with you like an hour ago but that little cockblock-" you cut him off by kissing him again, this time actually shutting him up

the book you had in your hand dropped to the seat behind you causing a thud. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. his hands slid under your shirt and up the sides of your torso, his rings were cold against your warm skin causing you to gasp, and eddie took this an opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth

you moaned in to the kiss causing him to smirk, when he started trailing his lips from yours down to your neck sucking on that sweet spot behind your ear

"eds" you breathed out, "yeah?" he mumbled, continuing to leave his mark on your neck

"my room" you stuttered out and he pulled away

"lead the way princess" he said with a smile, extending his hand for you to walk past him. you giggled, still stuck in a little bit of a haze, lacing his hand with yours in the process of walking past him

"did you bring it?" you asked as you entered your room. "condoms or weed?" he asked, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it

you giggled, "the weed but good to know about the condoms as well," you said with a wink

the two of you got into your usual positions, eddie sitting at your desk rolling a couple of joints while you lit some incense to cover the smell in case your mom came home early

once situated, you laid on your bed, side by side, passing the joint. you watched as eddie brought it up to his lips, and carefully sucked on it, lighting up the end, and breathing out the smoke

you watched his plush pink lips form in to an 'o' shape as the smoke blew, and you were mesmerized

and you stayed like that, smoking, staring at eddie, talking, but eventually by the end of the second joint, you didn't need anymore

"eddie" you whined, sitting on his lap, rolling your hips in attempts to get some friction for the heat pooling in your pants

eddie knew you had levels of being high, it would go from chill to giggly to horny to sleepy, and right now, he knew that all you cared about was him fucking you senseless

"yes baby?" he purred, hands gripping onto your thighs, your faces almost touching

"i need you" you whine again, starting to kiss his neck, and you moved your hands up the sides of his torso, lightly tugging on his shirt to get him to take it off

he loved taking his time with you while you were in this state, taking it as an opportunity to tease you. he loved making you a whining, moaning mess, hungry for his cock

he slowly moved your head from his neck so his lips met yours, kissing you with passion, his tongue fighting with yours

you broke apart for a second, taking off your shirt and tossing it across the room

"jesus christ y/n" he breathed out, absolutely enamored with the sight in front of him

"oh i forgot about that" you giggle, "you want to see the rest?" you ask in a sultry tone

he nods furiously and then gulps as you manage to wiggle off his lap

he watched intently as you flicked on the stereo, 'lick it up' by kiss blaring through your speakers as you moved your hips along to the beat of the song

"holy shit" eddie said, his eyes widening

you continued to move to the beat, flipping your hair and turning around, moving your body around in the most sexual way you know how

you dropped the shorts, tossing them beside you, and he smirked at the full sight of you

he sat up a bit as you started to slowly crawl onto your bed towards him, and he bit his lip in anticipation

you laid down next to him, and he took his opportunity to kiss down your neck and onto your collarbone, taking his time to leave his mark all over your chest and your neck

his hands traveled down your thigh, gripping your your backside as you grinded again his hard bulge

"i think you're wearing too many clothes" you said, lips almost touching

"yes m'am" he said with a light laugh and kissed you before he got up from the bed

the song had changed a couple times from the one you put on, and your speaker was blaring the chords of 'all hell's breakin' loose'

eddie tried to move his hips around in the way you did, but failing miserably causing you to laugh

he whipped off his t shirt, tossing it in your direction, and you watched intently as your boyfriend tried to give you a lap dance

he undid his belt, tossing it to his left side, and slowly undid his zipper

he looked at you, as you were holding back giggles as he was purposefully trying to be bad at this

he finally pulled down his pants and stepped out of them and kicked them over before jumping on to the bed next to you

"maybe we should stick to you performing on the stage and me performing in the bedroom" you giggled as he scooted closer

"yeah maybe that's for the best" he laughed, pulling you in to a deep kiss

he was on top of you and you were a moaning mess underneath him until you finally found the strength to flip the two of you over, wanting your turn to leave a few love bites down his neck

you knew everyone would see you together, see the hickies, and put two and two together but in this moment, you honestly couldn't care

you grinded down on his lap as you kissed the sweet spot behind his ear, causing a delicious moan to emit from those beautiful pink lips

——

"shit!" dustin yelled in an annoyed tone. he was in mike's basement with lucas, mike being upstairs grabbing a couple of snacks.

"what?" lucas asked towards the frantic curly haired boy

"i forgot my toothbrush" he said, grabbing his jacket

"where are you going?" mike asked walked down the stairs, arms full of junk food that would soon cease to exist, at the threat of being in front of three hungry teenage boys

"i need my toothbrush" dustin said, putting on his shoes

"just skip tonight, it's not a big deal" mike shrugged and dustin shook his head

"not a big deal? i just got these pearls and you expect me to not take care of them?" he held a hand up to his chest in offense

"just let him go, it'll only take him like 20 minutes tops" lucas said, opening a can of coke

"whatever but we're starting the star wars marathon without you" mike said and dustin looked at him with annoyance

"oh damn! it's not like i haven't seen the beginning of a new hope like 50 times" he said sarcastically before running up the stairs

he briefly told mrs. wheeler where he was going and that he was going to be back, and out the door he went, grabbing his bike

he started on his way to his house which wasn't too far from mike's, enjoying the cool breeze on the oddly warm spring night

he finally made it to his driveway, hearing the crickets outside and music coming from inside the house

dustin made his way up the stairs and opened the door which he found unusual since whenever you were home alone, you always made sure to lock everything up as you knew the only people who should be entering would have a key

the music traveled from your room and down the hall and he shrugged, assuming you were just listening to music loudly but then he smelled that oddly familiar smell wafting from your room

he went to the bathroom, grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and shut the door when he figured he should at least ask you about it

-

"oh fucking hell, you are so perfect" eddie muttered out as you licked the spot on his neck you had finished working on, proud of your accomplishment

one of your hands traveled down his hips and to the waist band of his boxers, starting to palm his rock hard bulge and he moaned, his fingers digging into your ass and thighs

your lips met his once more as you went to pull down his waist band, and you were so drunk on him, you couldn't focus on anything else

"hey y/n what's the- JESUS CHRIST" you heard a scream from your door way, causing you and eddie to jump apart

"dustin what the fuck are you doing here?!" you yell, grabbing your sheets to cover yourself up, eddie attempting to do the same

"what the fuck are you doing??" he screamed again

"what's it look like? now get out!" eddie yelled, throwing a pillow at him causing him to immediately step back and shut the door

your heart was pounding and your breathing was unsteady

"oh god" you groaned, leaning into eddie's chest

"well at least now he knows?" eddie said with a laugh

—

dustin, horrified at the sight, ran out of the house, toothbrush in hand and ran to his bike

he believed it was a record for how fast it took him to get back to mike's house from his

out of breath, he stumbled down into mikes basement seeing both mike and lucas staring intently at the movie

"why are you so out of breath?" lucas asked with concern

"i just saw my sister having sex with eddie" he managed to get out, still trying to catch his breath

"what?" mike asked

"I JUST SAW MY SISTER HAVING SEX WITH EDDIE" dustin screamed, repeating himself

"what the fuck?" mike asked again

"wait what so what did you even see?" lucas asked dustin

"i went to get my toothbrush and i heard music from her room and there was some smell so i decided to ask her what the smell was and i knocked- a few times, and she didn't answer so i assumed her music was too loud so i opened her door and i saw them half naked kissing on her bed!" dustin said with disgust

"jesus that's rough" lucas agreed

—

you finished putting back on your shorts, sitting on the edge of your bed with a gnawing feeling in your stomach

after what just happened, neither wanted to continue your plans for the evening so the two of you calmly got dressed and turned off the music.

"you okay?" eddie asked, sitting next to you and you shrugged

"i feel bad for having dustin find out about us that way" you said, playing with the hem of your shorts

"i know but now that it's out in the open you can always actually talk to him about everything tomorrow" he said and you nodded

"yeah i guess, plus i hate the fact that my surprise was wasted" you said, and he wrapped an arm around you as you leaned your head on his shoulder

"i wouldn't say it went to waste because jesus it definitely surprised me" he lifted your head gently to make eye contact with you

"i love you y/n and we'll have plenty of more opportunities for you to show me that, i already forgot all about it, you were wearing something blue right?" he joked and you laughed

"i love you too eddie" you said, wrapping your arms around him. you cuddled into each other, enjoying each others company. you also felt an insane amount of sleepiness wash over you and eddie could sense that

"you seem tired, so i should probably get going" he said with a sigh and you shook your head, pulling away from the hug but keeping your bodies pressed close

"no please, i want you to stay" you said to him and he nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear

"what about your mom?" he questioned and you smiled

"i'll just lock my door and if you'd be so kind, sneak out my window in the morning and come round to the front door, tell my mom you're taking me to breakfast" you suggested and he smiled

"god you're smart" eddie responded, kissing you softly

"and i have some extra clothes of yours from a few weeks ago for tomorrow" you said, getting up to the dresser and pulling them out

you had washed and dried them for him, planning to return them soon but thanking yourself you didn't

"thanks baby" he said, getting up and wrapping his arms around you

"you know i was actually wondering where this shirt went" he said and you giggled

the two of you decided to change out of your clothes, you sleeping in another one of eddie's shirts you had 'borrowed' and him changing into his clean boxers from the dresser

the two of you brushed your teeth in the bathroom, smiling at each other with toothpaste filled smiles. eddie left the bathroom back to your room, and you finished up washing your face and applying some moisturizer

once you made it back to your room, you admired the sight in front of you

eddie was laying on top of the sheets, legs spread and one arm on top of his head, showing off his tattoos

"take a picture it'll last longer" eddie smirked when he noticed you standing by the door

"might have to, you're too pretty" you said, shutting the door and locking it behind you

you walked over to your bed, crawling in, the only light emitting was from your lamp, the other lights eddie turned off for you

you snuggled close to him, his arms wrapping around you right and he reached up and turned off the light

"i love you y/n" eddie whispered, kissing your neck lightly and you smiled, rubbing his arms lightly

"i love you too eds" you said, falling asleep in his arms

fin.

[cryptidcorners]

Hi! Could I request literally any kind of story with protective Mike (from the FNAF movie). It really doesn't matter in what sort of context it is, I just want some protectiveness. Thank you so much in advance!

~ Mike Schmidt x Reader ~

= Title: Sheild

= Character: Mike Schmidt

= Media: Movie!Five Nights At Freddie's

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: During a coffee break, Mike notices you look more worried than normal. In reality, a former friend of yours is on the same floor as you, and the troubles you faced with them drive you away from Mike. It isn't until they finally approach and you see a different side of him.

= Request: "Hi! Could I request literally any kind of story with protective Mike (from the FNAF movie). It really doesn't matter in what sort of context it is, I just want some protectiveness. Thank you so much in advance!"

= Tags: Fluff ! Small Angst? Mall Setting, Protective Mike, Sweet Talk, Platonic (with Slight Romantic Implications? It's up for you to decide !), Affection, Cute Ending + Reader is !GN

= Warnings: Slight Stalking? (Reader has a Former Friend who approaches them (!GN)), Some Tension + Anxiety/Worry + No Spoilers, Really!

"Is something wrong?" Mike's curious tone had fished you out of your softened paralysis. In a flash, your eyes flicked upwards. You had forgotten where you were due to your gaze being on someone else. "What? Oh, sorry." Your palms sunk around the design of your coffee cup, and with its heat bleeding around your fingertips, you promptly pulled away.

"Sorry," you echoed. "I dozed off."

Even the busy foreground of the mall couldn't hook your mind. You weren't trying to be rude, or ignore Mike on purpose, but you couldn't stop thinking about them. Your lips twisted into a frown.

"Everything okay?" His face softened with concern. Even with that, you still looked around as if you were dazed. That's when he connected the dogs and reluctantly spilled a: "Is somebody bothering you?" Mike's throat strengthened. He didn't even have a set response but his shoulders were already peaking.

"Maybe," you sighed. Your warm hand fell to your cheek. His face fell and you quickly brushed it off. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

Mike was getting antsy in his seat. "You can tell me who they are. I'll tell them to go, I mean, I am a guard. It's what I do, you know?" As if to showcase his title, he sat up, expressing his "security" symbol running across his light uniform. That brought you some ease. Sort of.

Then you felt his hand on yours, grasping it protectively. "Please? Tell me who it is." Mike asked, "I don't want you to feel this way." Would it be wrong to tell him? The character orbiting in your mind had not hurt you per say, but you had history. It hurt too much to see them.

You sighed and gave him a reassuring grin. Your eyes were still on Mike, "It's okay, I know I'll be fine with you here."

Mike pulled away shyly. He could defend you easily, but he still had to make sure he knew. Before you could speak after a sorry sip of your coffee, a dreadful buzz crawled out of Mike's radio. Rapid, low-quality chatter. Mike looked like a lost animal, and hesitated to leave. But, he had a duty. "Damnit, I gotta go. I'll see you later?"

"Right, right. Bye," you awkwardly waved. You felt ridiculous. You were so focused on somebody you used to know while having a brief coffee date with your friend. It was hard to ever grab a seat with Michael, and you managed to mess it up.

Your disappointed expression rested on your face with a soft groan. Stupid.

"Hey there." A familiar voice made you feel like a fish out of water. Your attention flew upwards. You shuttered, "Hey?"

Internally, you were panicking. The same person you were shivering over was now looming over your shoulder. They must have waited until Mike had left. Damnit.

You were trying to pull away from their conversation. You both had left on bad terms, and it felt uncomfortable how sweet they were. There was nothing kind about them at all. And you knew it.

"I should really go," you finally declared. You attempted to pull out of your seat, but a sudden force stopped you. They grabbed your arm.

"But it's only been a few minutes, come on."

"I really want to stay, but I need to go." You said nervously. They didn't budge.

Anxiety began to grow, and your mouth was sewed shut. You completely drowned away everything they were saying until you heard a vicious: "Get off!" from Mike.

He gripped their shoulder and pulled them aside. Mike sucked his teeth and swore under his breath, "They want you to leave. So, fuck off."

"I don't think you understand, sir. We know each other." They protested.

Mike's gaze grew into something stormy, "Leave. Or I'm calling the rest of security." As soon as your follower squirmed out of his grip, Mike walked over and shielded you away. They apologized, making up a silly excuse as to why they were holding on to you. Mike didn't buy it and snapped again. You were left alone, drowning in relief.

"Are you okay? Look at me." Mike quickly discarded his hard expression, his eyes were already calm with longing. "They didn't hurt you right? I'll find them, I have good memory, I-" he was holding you. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"it's okay. It's okay. Mike, I'm fine." You answered. "You protected me, and that's all I can ask for."

He was still worried, so he felt the need to pull you aside, talking to another floor just in case. Mike released a heavy exhale, forbidding himself to let go of your hand. "I can give you a ride home,"

"You don't have to."

"I can pay for a ride,"

"Mike."

"You can stay near me too, I don't-"

"Michael." Your tone hardened. Mike's attention veered towards you once again. "You don't need to worry." Your were hands softly wrapped around his, "I'll be okay as long as you're here."

"Okay." Mike's demeanor relaxed at the sight of you. "Just . . . tell me when someone is wrong. I don't want you to get hurt."

"You got it." It felt strangely intimate. You had never been so close with him. You did have a habit of shielding away your hardships, but now, it felt wrong to hold it away. Especially from Mike. "It won't happen ever again."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

[boyfhee]

› HOW TO GET BACK WITH YOUR EX : five do's and don'ts

SYNOPSIS · You were all in for a new start; a new city, new apartment, new department and new colleagues— though, not under the best circumstances— you tried to make it through your early thirties while lost between whether to give up or go on, and then you meet Heeseung, who happens to be on the other end of the same street.

WC · 26.2K ( guys pls give this a chance )

GENRE · melodrama, angst, slice of life, romance, exes to ?

WARNINGS · lots of drinking, marriage talks, mentions of failed relationship and breakups; implications of sexual activity, very existential, mentions of suicidal thoughts, blood, lot's of tense changes ( since this transits between past and present a lot ) please read at your own discretion.

NOTE · i know i'm on hiatus but this was almost done and i had a sudden burst of motivation so here we are. my longest fic till date, i'm so proud of how this turned out. experimented a little with my writing style here, overall a fun experience. i hope you all enjoy this as much as i did, happy reading. ps the quote below is actually by john mark green, but let's assume it's written by hee for the sake of this fic. okay, good bye again, see you guys soon :›

playlist : tune in for better experience hehe

“ And if love may be madness, may I never find sanity again, ”

— Lee Heeseung, Red Wine

I.  Regret and Remorse

You don’t think you’ll ever become someone who’d look forward to the working experience that comes with job transfer. In fact, you don’t think you’d ever become someone who’d grow a liking to job transfer in the first place. 

Autumn of 2022 was supposed to be filled with vacation plans and a self-sobriety program in one of the many remote towns of Gangwon, away from the internet and daily complaints of your employer and family members. To put it simply— you’re tired of the life you’ve been living so far. Looking back, when you were a fresh graduate from one of the best universities of Incheon, life seemed to offer more opportunities than it does now. Your goals weren't any different from other people in the same age group as you, which majorly consisted of getting a job that pays well, maintaining financial security, getting into a good relationship, and perhaps visiting a few places on your travel list that you made in your first year of university. The idea of ‘ideal workplace’ leaves your mind the moment you step into the industry. Over time, you’ve realised that there’s no such thing as a job that fits to your liking and pays well, along with a hundred other benefits ranging from covering medical expenses to providing paid leaves. While that may apply to some, most of the crowd isn’t lucky enough to experience the luxuries of their dream job or workplace. Unfortunately, you happen to be just another person of that kind. 

You wake up, it’s the same old Monday morning— and no matter what day it is, it always feels like a Monday morning. You look through your same seven sets of office attires in your closet and pick one for the day; you go to the kitchen and find the same dish you had last night. You heat it up and eat the same for breakfast. Albeit, you find yourself at a cafe downstreet if you’re hoping for a change of scenery. You go to work, review the same old files, look at your same old colleagues and the same old boss who makes your blood boil. You aren’t the most sociable person and prefer to have lunch at the canteen, and coincidently, it’s the same old menu from four days ago. The day proceeds in the same old direction and you arrive at your apartment by six in the evening if your team leader doesn’t make you work overtime. You make dinner, sleep on the same old bed in the same old room with the same old feeling of dissatisfaction stuffing your stomach, and the same old cycle continues. 

Intellectually, there has been no progress— you've read scarcely half a dozen books, haven't made one new, exciting friend, haven't had a starling or unusual thought. Economically, things are no better— same old bills to pay, same old pay that hasn't been increased over years now. You get your paycheck and half of it goes into buying necessities. It's the same old job, same old routine of nine-to-five workdays, the cheese and ham salad for lunch, same dreary ride home. No change, nothing but routine, sameness, monotony— it's as if you're vegetating.

If you could go back in time and meet yourself when you were still a college freshman with high hopes and even higher aspirations, you would tell yourself to stop. Now that you’ve seen how the world works and have experienced the stagnancy of life, you wouldn’t want your young and carefree self to go through the pain of disappointment after encountering it yourself. You would instead tell yourself to switch fields since finance doesn’t seem to have a lot to offer. Instead, you would push your past self to go for liberal arts when you suddenly wanted to switch majors in the second year. Perhaps, in that case, your life would’ve been a tad bit better. 

Well, better than what it is now, at least, because currently, you’re sitting in the living room of your new apartment with a beer can in hand and tons of unpacked boxes around you. You’ve been thinking of unpacking for over an hour now, but every time your eyes land upon another beer, you’re back on the floor, chugging the drink down and regretting your life choices. Things would’ve been better if you had turned in your resignation instead of waiting till the last week of July for your pay; because now it’s August, and you’re in a new city with a new apartment, and the only thing you remember is the way to the nearest seven-eleven store from your apartment. You don’t want to think of this negatively, really, since you’ve been asking for a change, after all; and nothing is better than starting anew in a completely new location. However, you don’t want to work in the sales department when all you’ve ever worked about is finance. You don’t want to go through the pain of getting lost in the streets and chased by some dog, for you’re hitting thirty and you feel your bones cracking. You wanted a new start, however not in this field. A new start, for you, meant going on a vacation, detoxifying your mind off all the stress and tension, picking up a hobby, focusing on self-care— just anything that would help you change your views about life.   

Your silent remorseful session is interrupted by a knock on the door, and you’re certain you heard a doorbell, however you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol playing with your mind or whether someone is actually waiting at your doorstep. Forcing yourself to stand up, you stumble towards the door, the sudden decrease in blood pressure leaves a hint of dizziness as you step forward. Since you’ve just moved in, expecting anyone besides mails and landlord is pointless. While you remember having a friend living in the same city, you never told her your address so it’s unlikely for her to visit you either. You stand before the door, fixing your hair before moving down to the creases on your shirt as you unlock the door with a forced smile; and the time ceases to exist. 

“Hi,” Heeseung mumbles. 

You step aside to let him in, involuntarily— “Hi,” you breathe out before stressing your mind to come up with a reason for letting him inside. Could it be that you’re so lonely that now, you’re treating your ex as just someone you’ve been expecting to see? Maybe not, maybe it’s because you just moved in and despite the notes that you both ended on, it would be disrespectful to shut the door on someone who came with seemingly all good intentions. 

His steps are laced with hesitation. There’s a Château Margaux in his hands as you notice his fingers nervously tighten around the bottle before he turns around, albeit you avoid his gaze actively. “I heard someone moved in so I came to meet,” A pause, and then: “Didn’t know it was you.” 

He puts emphasis on the word as if it’s a bad thing. As if you’re an outsider trying to invade his peaceful life yet again, only to cause mayhem. However, the question is, had you known that Heeseung lives here, would you have moved in? Or, would you continue to live knowing Heeseung is your neighbour and that you would possibly see him for the rest of your life? You don’t know the answer to that one— not sure if you even want to find one, in fact. The last thing you need is to worry about bumping into an ex. You gesture at him to take a seat and to your surprise, he sits on the floor, exactly where you were having your drinking session before he came along. You grab the wine glasses from the kitchen before making your way back to the living room and sitting opposite to him. There’s a heavy tension in the air, one that is suffocating both of you, though you’re sure a major part of it is arising from you. After all, you let him inside as if he was an old friend, one that you were hoping to see, as if he isn’t your ex. 

Heeseung and you got together in your second year of university. You met him through a mutual friend on their birthday when they invited a few people from another department. You didn’t plan to go initially, you had presentations to make, but something inside of you prompted you to give in and had it not been for that day, you would’ve never come across Lee Heeseung in your life. The first time you met him at the bar, Heeseung seemed to be a heavy drinker— droopy eyes, messed up hair, a few things written on the palm of his hands— he didn’t even come across as someone who paid attention during lessons. However, much to your surprise, he excused himself early, sitting outside with a can of cold coffee he got from the vending machine in his hand while reading what seemed like economics notes compiled in pdf format. Perhaps, Heeseung knew he came off as a showoff when you found him chugging down his drink in an attempt to erase whatever effect alcohol could have on him. 

You sat next to him and all of a sudden, he started explaining how he doesn’t usually dip in the middle of gatherings with friends and step out to study. He simply happens to have a test the next day and his friends dragged him along. Simultaneously, you learnt that it was his first time drinking despite and he swore not to drink anything that wasn’t caffeine. It was nice, really; while Heeseung was busy worrying that you might dislike him for being such a show off, you were enjoying your time with him because in the end, you weren’t a big fan of drinking with your friends either. The two of you talked about wasted matters, complained about subjects and teachers, shared social media handles. It was fantastical, almost unreal, because you don’t remember the last time you clicked with someone so quickly. You didn’t have impressive social skills to initiate conversations, which consequently resulted in you being left out most of the time. It didn’t really matter since relationships and all were secondary at that time, for you had a set goal to work towards. You had always believed that people can make friends and fall in love anytime. However, life gives you just once chance to achieve your dreams. Disconnecting from the public didn't have any effect since you got your work done. While your friends wasted their nights at clubs, you spent it studying and completing assignments. You never felt the lack of friends and interactions eating you slowly. The loneliness didn’t hit you until you graduated with hands full of bills to pay and responsibilities to handle. 

After that night, you started seeing Heeseung more than usual. Despite being in different majors and completely different schedules, you saw him at the campus more often than you used to. It was as if he was always there, waiting for you to find him. Despite changing Twitter and Instagram handles, the two of you barely talked. There was no communication except interacting with each others’ posts, leaving a comment every now and then, tagging each other in stories. You would mutter a soft hello every time you’d bump into him and if fate allowed, you’d have a small conversation. There was no progress in your relationship until a few months after your first meeting, at one of the fests hosted by the Art Department. You had no one to visit with and Heeseung wasn’t interested until you came across him in the library, taking down notes of the lectures he had missed. He asked if you wanted to visit the fest, much to your surprise, and that was the first time you had hung out with Heeseung after knowing him for five months. 

“You seem excited for work,” It’s a question that leaves you confused until your eyes land upon the stacks of files and documents lying stray on the kitchen counter. The next thing you notice is that Heeseung’s voice has gotten a lot deeper, possessing all the necessary qualities of a voice a hiring manager would want to hear in interviews. 

“Do I?” You offer a rhetorical response, not knowing exactly what to say. For a brief second, you considered pouring yourself more drink and going off about your lethargic and unfruitful lifestyle. A chuckle falls off your lips as you stir the wine in its glass, feeling the weight shift from left to right before chugging the remaining liquid down. “I hate my job,”

You pour yourself another glass. Heeseung’s fingers flinch watching your hands reach for the bottle but he didn’t dare interrupt your actions. Another second passes in silence, another sip of wine hits your system. You feel fatigue fill your sinuses as you fight off sleep for another hit— another line of thoughts.  

You can go on for days, complaining about your job, despite knowing that looking down on your work and throwing shade on your boss isn’t going to get you anywhere in life. But at the end of the day, you have nothing else to talk about either. While your colleagues spent weekends drinking, going on dates, and watching movies, you worked your ass off to finish off a project and get a promotion; because promotions come with an increase in pay, and the thing you need the most at the moment is money. Even in school and universities, you used to spend your days and nights studying hard because in the end, the employers from big companies always look for candidates from the top universities, students who graduated with high honours and those who have a lot to offer to the market. Graduating from one of the best universities in Korea in your department should’ve helped you get a high paying job with several benefits. You didn’t lack knowledge, nor did you lack the brains to tackle the problems in finance. You graduated on top of your class so your educational qualifications weren’t below the bar either. If it comes down to experience, one can not expect a fresh graduate to have work experience. In the end, you’re left with the lack of information once again, not knowing why your life turned out this way when every step you took ensured success. 

“Then, why don’t you try doing something that you like?” Heeseung suggests, twirling the glass in his hand, unknowingly mirroring your actions. While he thinks he’s doing a good job at keeping the conversation going, Heeseung knows his advice isn’t worth a penny. Imagine telling a full-time employee to quit their job and do what they like! He thinks to himself, almost ready to take his words back, because he can’t even imagine himself doing the same thing for the sake of a better life. 

“You can’t depend on your likes and dislikes to make a living,” You chuckle yet again, voice laced with bitterness. Failure and disappointment were something you never had tasted until now. You remember the dissatisfaction you felt when your mother gave you sliced apples when you told her you were hungry. You refused to eat, but your mother said that when you’re starving, you don’t look for food that suits your taste. You just eat whatever you get; and thinking about it now, you think it applies to practical life as well. Survival in this world isn’t possible if you depend upon your preferences. Humans have the ability to adapt to various situations, and the key to adaptation is working under different circumstances, often that don’t suit your preferences. That is how you secure your position in the world. If things revolved around one’s likes and dislikes, you sure would’ve been a billionaire for you love to stay on your couch all day and dislike capsicums. 

“What about you?” You counter with the same question. “You look even more tired than how you were in university.” Now, your attention is on his dark circles and weary eyes. The Heeseung you remember from university was phenomenal, having an urge to do anything and everything. His eyes searched for opportunities, hands aching to work on something new. His never ending passion and a desire to know more made him an ideal figure for the juniors as well as someone who the seniors used to envy. However, the eyes of the Heeseung sitting in front of you are telling a whole nother story. They’re talking about the good times while his hands look tired from having a lot on his plate with no time for himself. 

“Work load,” Heeseung sighs, eyes fixed on his drink as he continues to twirl it around. Your gaze shifts to the corner of his lips, watching them curl into a faint smile. “Do you remember how we used to spent weekends hunting for part time—”

And then a pause. Your eyes avert to his’, meeting him in the line of contact; they resonate with just two emotions— regret and respect. You fail to decipher the meaning behind his gaze, you lost the ability to do so years ago. He presses his lips into a thin line, pressing his fingers against the glass in an attempt to suppress his emotions before looking away from you. The comforting silence suddenly weighs upon your shoulders with its hands around your neck, suffocating you to the point of breathlessness; and then you ask yourself— what am I doing? The clock strikes seven and it didn’t hit you how quickly the time flowed until everything dawned upon you. Once again, you’re left questioning your whats and whys about life, for after all, you didn’t expect to spend your evening drinking with your ex. You notice splatters of rain against your window pane as they blur the golden glow of the city scape behind. The rain falls louder, the room fills with the sound of clouds rumbling, you take another sip of wine— it takes you back to your days with Heeseung. 

You don’t know if it’s alcohol blurring your paths down the memory lane, but a part of job hunting with Heeseung also included applying for the same part-jobs and competing so see who gets hired. Although, both of you ended up receiving a polite rejection most of the time, it didn’t affect your relationship. Actually, you don’t think anything regarding job interviews or grades affected your relationship with him. It was a good, healthy race, one that allowed both of you to grow as individuals, for yourselves and for each other. There were days when you came home with the news about getting hired, only to know how his application was rejected or he was fired, and vice-versa. You both took your turns comforting each other— it didn’t feel like your life was any different from his. In fact, every second with Heeseung felt as if you both were living the same life. Watching him go through the exact same thing you went through a few weeks ago, or finding yourself in the same situation you found him merely a few nights ago; it was like watching just another version of yourself.  

Seconds catapult before you. Heeseung gets up and makes his way towards the door. No words are shared, the world is spinning too quickly, it gets harder and harder for you to retrace your steps to figure out how you ended up here. His name falls off your lips— it’s not louder than a soft whisper. You don’t know why you stopped him in his tracks. Is it intentional? Is it involuntary? Or is it because you were hoping for something else? You would never know, at least not now. Months expanded into years and the time when you dated Heeseung still feels like yesterday. It’s as if you woke up— there is his face next to you, the sunlight offering a soft golden glow to his eyes as they light up your whole words. His lips meet yours, a smile emerges under the tender kiss, Heeseung tells you he loves you and you couldn’t be happier. The day rolls by, your steps follow him everywhere he goes, breaths mingling into each other in secluded corners of streets, hidden from the world because it’s a love to be harboured in secrecy. Your hands intertwine with his. It’s two souls living as one, two hearts beating in synchrony. The night rolls by and you’re back in his arms, a little closer to heart, deeper into his mind. The moon sighs in admiration, night slips through his feather light touches as he traces every inch of your skin with love. The sun comes up— and suddenly you’re exes. You never had enough time to process his departure from your life, just the way you failed to process his impromptu arrival this evening. Heeseung is in front of you like the way he used to be. However, just like the first time, the universe agreed but the stars never aligned, and Heeseung is leaving once again as you fail to hold onto him one more time.

“Why don’t you resign if you don’t like your job?” Heeseung stops by his door, and you realise the words that leave his mouth are the same ones that people throw at you whenever they hear you complain about your work life.

“I was about to, but was transferred here. Thought I should give it a try before quitting.” While that doesn’t sound like the most convincing reason, it sure is a plausible one. You had been looking for a change— any change— and throwing away the chance to have one while it had been in your hand would be a bad decision, no matter how unfavourable it sounds at the moment.   

“Doesn’t that sound familiar? When I confessed, you said you weren’t sure about your feelings but would give it a try,” There’s a faint smile on his face, albeit you aren’t able to perceive the meaning behind his words. “I’m sure it’ll turn out better,” 

You take a step towards the door before shutting it completely. You don’t know why he said that, nor do you think you’ll ever get the chance to ask him. Perhaps you wouldn’t ask him willingly in the first place. You turn around, leaning against the door as a sigh escapes your lips. Heeseung has his own life, and so, his own views on different things. If he resents you, you’re in no position to try and change that for him. You don’t think you’re in a position to interfere with his life when you decided to walk out of it in the first place.

If regret was his part to play, then remorse was yours. 

II. Don’t be a ‘know it all’ 

Drinking with Heeseung feels like yesterday, when in fact, you haven’t seen him in four days. 

Life is busy, and it’s even busier for someone like Heeseung who works as a chartered accountant if your memories from last evening aren’t defying you. You can’t imagine yourself in that position, not like you want to in the first place. Excel sheets and tons of documents about taxes are all you could think of when you hear anything along the lines of accountancy, which is intolerable to you, given that you’ve majored in finance, ironically. 

A lot of things in your life are contradicting, actually. You don’t like to cook but cooking for close friends is something you’ve always loved. Examples follow, and at one point you realised that your life barely makes sense. Expectations from friends and relatives made you a try hard, so much that anything less than a perfect score made you feel suffocated. People had desires and interest in certain things, but you needed to be good at everything, and saying that it was for yourself would be a lie, because you had to set an example of an ideal person in front of your younger siblings. Your parents were strict to you and it didn’t feel unfair. You were ten when you saw your mother cry because of all the financial burden, but she had to be the perfect mother for her children, so you never saw her complain ever again. Fifteen year old you didn’t have a goal in mind but she knew that there’s a path ahead of her that leads her siblings on the right track, towards a better future, and so she took it— no aims and dreams of herself, just whatever she could’ve done for her brothers. It was hard at first but the formula to success was easy— hardwork and determination, and all you had to do was avoid distractions. Again, the reality didn’t hit you until you met Heeseung. 

It was as if you were both her two sides of the same coin. Persistence flowed in both of your veins, but every time you looked at him, you realised that he enjoyed everything he was doing. Heeseung enjoyed waking up at four, going out for a jog, attending classes, job hunting, staying up till two or simply not sleeping on some nights. Even on the darkest of the days and coldest of the nights, you would see Heeseung looking at you with a warm smile. He always managed to find a reason to smile, or make a situation humorous enough to make others smile as well. You don’t know how he did that, you never had the chance to ask, but you’re certain that even if he told you, you wouldn’t understand. Heeseung’s principles of living were beyond your comprehension— staying up late yet waking up right when dawn breaks, buying books but never really reading them, researching articles on topics that don’t concern your subjects even marginally— but that’s just his curiosity getting the best of him. 

Often, he’d find himself amidst a financial conflict like any other college student, but it never had an impact on his desires, and he used to say, ‘A sale wouldn’t wait for me to pay my bills so that I can buy my favourite shirt with the money left,’ as if his rent was going to pay itself. If someone asks about the biggest difference between him and you, it’s about desires. You suppress yours while Heeseung lives them like it’s the last time he could ever wish for something. You believe in the cause, while Heeseung did in curiosity, and that’s where it creates a line. Though lately, you’ve been hearing other things about him, new things, if you must say. 

The landlord told you about the Heeseung who’s quiet, who doesn’t leave his house until it’s about work, who eats the same menu for days until his system demands something new, who now has been prescribed actual specs because of his family history of hypermetropia. You find yourself smiling about it because back in university, Heeseung used to brag about his perfect vision, and you would say, ‘family health history is no joke. you take that shit down to your grave,’ and now when it has actually happened, you wonder what he has to say. Hearing stories about him made you realise that a lot of things changed, but Heeseung didn’t. Maybe, the situation demands him to live vegetatively, or maybe he’s saving up for a bigger plan. 

“They say you’re a loner,” You had said one time when you bumped into him on the lift. “That you never leave your apartment except for work,” 

Much to Heeseung’s surprise, a lot of things changed after he entered his thirties, the most prominent being his back pain, which may or may not have arisen from the lack of workout and constantly sitting in front of his desk for hours. He would smile at plants or sit by the balcony, watching the city being ever so lively and yet so monotonous. Afternoon naps became mandatory to continue proficiently for the rest of the day and before he realised, Heeseung became the old man of every highschool student’s imagination. Truthfully, he spent his first few months after graduation in his room, amidst sketching pencils and loose sheets. While other fresh graduates hunted for jobs or ways to fill their resume to fit the companies’ requirements, he spent his early months as an unemployed lad who graduated with top honours from one of the best universities in Korea. For the first time in life, he found himself looking at his ceiling and wondering, what’s next. Heeseung, who always had a plan for something despite seeming reckless, was about to step into adulthood with no plans to follow. 

“I guess I’ll be that,”

He was back in your apartment, same wine in his hand, same old complaints. It’s been quite a few weeks since you’ve moved in and Heeseung always finds himself in your living room at noons when he doesn’t sleep, making small talk about topics that usually stir a little interest. You haven’t had the time to go out with your colleagues and make new friends or explore the city, which gives you a perfect excuse to see Heeseung and call it socialising. Not to mention, you’ve been introducing him to your previous workmates as the ‘new friend’ you’ve made in the new place. 

“We both know you’re not that,” You continue, recalling all the reasons why Heeseung isn’t how people around describe him to be. 

“No one is the same after actually getting a life,” He replies while going through his emails, scrolling down with one hand before placing the wine glass by his side and proceeding to type something. “Look at yourself, for example,” 

You don’t know whether it’s a compliment or an insult. Perhaps the latter, albeit the chances of him noticing a good difference in you are low but never zero. Your eyes fix on his fingers, following them as he types something before clearing it all, and then typing all over again while mumbling the exact same words with an expression ranging from confusion to worry. You reconsider his words, he isn’t half wrong. 

Adulthood is climacteric. You think you’re an adult the moment you turn eighteen but in reality, you aren’t one until you’re in a position to make it through life profoundly, and ironically enough, you don’t think most people get a taste of adulthood until they hit their late twenties or enter their thirties. Your mind traces back to what he said— ‘yourself, for example,’ and suddenly, you become conscious of every single thing that has changed about you. You learnt piano but now your fingers don’t flow smoothly over the keys as they used to, given you haven’t played piano in years. You were a part of the science club in highschool and the student council president in your senior year. You wanted to go into aeronautics but seasons changed and one day, you looked in the mirror and saw the version of yourself who was about to graduate with honours in finance. Even after graduation you had a chance to switch fields but you didn’t, or rather, couldn’t. You were hired in the same year, which gave you even more reasons to continue since it would relieve your dad of the financial burden looming on his shoulders. Maybe, that’s what adulthood is supposed to do to you. You find yourself working in a field you have no interest or experience in and by the time you gain experience, you’re too old to grow an interest. 

Statistically, your school life was much better than college and onwards. You had, although little, but knowledge about all the subjects, a desire to know more, time to yield interest and a will to keep going on. To think, almost everyone in high school grows up under the same circumstances. They either have the opportunity or are given one to pursue what they want, taking it or not is up to them. For you, it was the former. You were given the chance to participate in the maths olympiad which you didn’t because of school exams. You were recommended to the best science institute in the country but you dropped out in just two months. Your music teacher offered you a chance to learn music professionally in Vienna but you never reached out to her on that again. You were given multiple chances to live how you wanted to but you simply discarded them and went with what proved to be the easiest way. 

That moment on a comparatively warm august afternoon, sitting next to him with wine, you went all the way back to all the instances and decisions that lead you to where you were right now. 

On the other hand, you shift your attention back to Heeseung, and even though you never got to know about his childhood or parents properly, you certainly knew that the way he experienced both of them was better than yours. Growing up as a single child gave him absolute control of things that he did and did not want. His decisions were not influenced by his parents, which could be classified as some sort of independence in regards to making his own choices from an early age, but neither did he have any siblings to set an example for. All his life, Heeseung has only lived for himself, and it reflects in his personality, if one tries hard enough to notice. While you had to give up one thing or other for your siblings, Heeseung got a taste of everything he wanted. He knows how it feels to not sleep all night but you never had the chance until much later because you were always thought to sleep on time and wake up early, whether or not you had anything to do. There may have been someone guiding him all along but most of the time, his experience gave him a clear insight and freedom to choose what he wants to do. 

To sum it up, you might be more qualified in terms of academics but Heeseung has more experience when it comes to diverse situations, and experience is all employers want these days in their employees. 

“Well, you still are the ideal candidate for marriage,” You chuckle, remembering what the lady told you a few days ago. You notice him marking a few emails before closing the app, picking the wine glass back up once again. It’s not a surprise to see someone like Heeseung being approached with several martial arrangements. He, despite being described as a loner by a few residents in the apartment, is still the guy with whom you would want to marry your daughter off. He works nine-to-five like any other family guy, is disciplined, comes from a good family and education background, and his looks work as cherry on top.  

“All they want is a guy with a stable job and salary,” He spat with a smile, chugging down the drink in his glass all at once. “That’s not who I want to be,” 

“Who do you want to be, Heeseung?” You ask above the silence lingering in the room, just loud enough to pique his interest. His phone screen lights up with a mail, but his eyes never leave your sight, not even for a second. 

People usually wouldn’t recommend talking to your ex, let alone sharing a deep, therapeutic session about life and self-development. If you say you’re starting as friends again, they would say it’s impossible because the bare minimum requirement to classify as a friend— the lack of romantic emotions— has already been violated. Even if you claim to be over Heeseung and treat him as just another one of your exes, you know there are unsaid feelings blooming in the air. You wouldn’t call Heeseung a friend, he never was one, actually. Heeseung was never there when you actually needed a friend but you never noticed his absence as your colleague, or as your boyfriend. Heeseung is terrible at being friends because he confessed to you the day he introduced you as ‘just a friend,’ to his friends. You wouldn’t consider being friends with your ex, yet you don’t think you could be anything more with him either. You started talking to him as a stranger but Heeseung has always been way too familiar to identity as a stranger. Too familiar for a stranger, too strange to be familiar, it’s another one of the things your life could be contradicting about. 

He looks at you, directing your question back to you as if you’re a better candidate to consult. ‘Who do I want to be?’ All your life, you’ve never done something that counts for yourself. Even your perfect sleeping schedule was meant to set an example for your brothers. Your achievements were never yours to begin with. You were good at piano, but that’s because your teacher taught you. You never composed a piece and simply played what has already been played. Even at work, you do what you’ve been told, and not what you want to. There’s no innovation, just flow of ideas from one level to the other, and it keeps being passed down to a level beyond which, it’s no longer fruitful. ‘Who do I want to be?’ You ask yourself over and over again, but it’s a question you don’t know how to approach. Rather, you would like to know, ‘Who am I right now?’

Just like that, October passes amidst wines and visits from Heeseung every other afternoon or evenings on weekends that weren’t swamped with work. For some reasons, workload increases as December approaches with his cold and calloused hands, which could be the reason why you’ve been seeing less of him lately. Occasionally, you would pour two glasses of wine and sit in the living room, but it would end up with you drinking yours in silence while his’ rests untouched. On nights you stay up till twelve or so, you could hear him unlock his doors in a hurry and shut it just as quickly. Maybe, that’s how a busy lifestyle is supposed to be. Consequently, you stopped waiting for him, coming in terms with reality once again. For a brief while, you considered flying back to your hometown and living with your family for a while, but the idea was dismissed as soon as the announcements about promotions emerged in your department. Once again, you found yourself working day and night with eyes set on no one but Heeseung to spend your upcoming Christmas with. 

Usually, you’re someone who prioritises family over work but a promotion is what you need the most at the moment. Time and patience, they say, but you have neither of those. You don’t have time to sit and rethink or start all over again, time to start from scratch, and patience was never one of your positive traits. At times, you would consider resigning and moving to a whole other country but it was too late to do that. You were no longer a stranger to society, you knew how things work and you had to make things work, with no time to try anything new. At thirty-two, no one wants to see you resign and fly to Maldives for a vacation, to live like you have no worries to worry about, not even yourself. See, that’s the pain of growing up. Parents would tell their children that they have their whole life to do what they like and just a few years to study and make something out of themselves, and it’s nothing but a lie. The truth is, you only have time when you’re young and, as you grow up, time starts slipping out of your hand. A kid is expected to be able to walk by the time they’re eighteen months old, or two years at most. Beyond that, it’s a problem and you have to consult a paediatrician, even if you don’t want to. A student is expected to graduate by the time they turn eighteen, people are expected to have a job by twenty-seven, you’re supposed to be in a relationship before thirty and married by thirty-five. As you grow old, the time to do something runs out and by the time you’re seventy or so, you realise you’re too old to do what you want. 

“I actually wanted to go back this time but, mom’s trying to convince me into getting married,” He said when you accidentally bumped into him this morning, signing off a delivery. Heeseung, in college, came off as someone who would be rather interested in marriages, someone who’d commit to a serious relationship in university and end up marrying them. You wanted to ask the reason but chose not to, maybe because you remind yourself that you’re exes and there are boundaries that should be maintained. 

“So, you just don’t want to get married,” It’s supposed to be a question, albeit it comes off as a statement. You lean against your doorframe, watching him carry his parcel inside and placing it next to his couch. Usually, you’d lend him a hand but today, you simply crossed your arms and waited for him to respond. 

“I don’t want to get married right now,” He replies between huffs. “I can barely take care of myself,” There’s a faint bit of fascination in his voice, a smile evident on his face that leaves you wondering if the slight humour was necessary or whether it’s supposed to be a facade for his rather unsatisfactory lifestyle. 

“Well, you are doing much better than me,” You counter with the same fascination, shifting your weight on both your feet equally in hopes to engage in a full fledged conversation instead of a small talk. “Besides, marriage is a two way street. Being the husband doesn’t mean you have to earn and be responsible for the whole family, or being the wife doesn’t mean she has to cook, there are no roles to play. Marriage is just, sharing what you do, good or bad, right or wrong, and helping each other become a better version of ourselves.” A string of silence follows, you notice his chest rise in an attempt to reply, but words never leave his mouth. You wonder if you said something wrong, but part of you knows you didn’t. Marriage is not as horrific and most of the people make it to be. We all need someone to hold onto, someone who you know will be there when the world isn’t— it’s similar to dating, except you’re committing to just one person, which is better than breaking up and living in vain for months before falling for someone and living the whole process all over again.  

“You seem to know a lot,” But Heeseung never replies and shuts the door, and it’s just you and the silence once again. 

You spend the next few weeks locked in your bedroom, in front of your laptop, making a presentation while living off noodles and beer. You sleep schedule has been in shambles, you’ve grown prominent dark circles, living the vicious cycle of working your ass off with little or no sleep to suffice for your constant workload. This is the most productive you’ve been in a while, especially after your transfer. You wouldn’t say your job pleases you and better, but being aware that this project could really end up with you getting a promotion and thus, a salary increase, is enough to keep you going. 

You were back where you had started a few years ago, reading reports and watching your laptop overheat from all the tabs and applications running at once. You knew what you were doing but everything felt so foreign. The excel sheets spread open with the pointer blinking for you to add an input but your fingers no longer dance above the keyboard like they used to in the first few months of your job. You consulted your seniors, talked to your team leader, watched conferences of qualified professors of your field, took notes, but it all led you to the same thing— deleting and rewriting the whole thing, or simply a blank document that would light up your room on  nights you chose not to sleep. You even considered talking to Heeseung at some point but after recalling the way he dismissed you the morning he was receiving the parcel, you choose not to. While most people wouldn’t mind taking ten minutes to offer a word of advice, you simply choose not to involve Heeseung with your personal issues. 

Taking half days from work using it as an excuse to work on your presentation gave you an opportunity to watch Heeseung leave and arrive at his apartment everyday. You’d sit on your balcony with beer, or tea, rarely, and your laptop on your lap, scrolling through emails and numerous files, and around seven every evening, you’d see him step out of the cab that drops him off right in front of the apartment. On mornings, you usually see him walk up to the intersection which you think is to compensate for the lack of exercise in his routine. Often, you find yourself peeking down from your railing to catch a glimpse of him as soon as the minute hand crosses seven twenty. When he doesn’t arrive by eight, you grab another can of beer and take rounds from your door to the balcony with a pacing that increases with every second that passes. One time, he came home at nine and you rushed to open your door before realising that you can’t tell him you’ve been waiting for him for the past two hours. Good thing is that you had your phone and continued on your way to the apartment garden, telling him that you have to make an important call. 

You met him as his ex and now you find yourself dropping everything and waiting for him as if he’s your first priority. That’s when you realised you needed to create a line, but for now, you don’t mind hanging out in the neighbourhood with Heeseung as his friend, according to how he now introduces you to people he knows. 

“You’re telling me you never went out and explored this place?” His mouth was agape, too shocked to say anything. There were days when your antics spilled out relentlessly, but living in a city for over almost four months and not knowing any of the routes besides the one to your workplace has to be the worst one of those. Even back in university, you preferred to spend weekends in your dorms instead of at some club or bar, like your friends did. It would be a stretch if Heeseung said you are a hopeless case because he was no better, but he wasn’t as bad either, in several ways. 

“Hm, well, work gave me a perfect excuse to not go out,” You say with your eyes glued to the data sheet on your phone and it reminds him of the day you saw him studying Economics outside the bar. These are a few of the similarities that Heeseung noticed between him and you, similarities that he likes to see but is too scared to address in words. “Besides, it would be a waste of time and fuel when you can get the exact same things at your doorsteps.” 

“Is that why you never went out in college either?” He asks finally after a long drawn silence, albeit it never hits you since you’ve been too busy going through the documents on your phone. “Hey,”

“Maybe, but that was more because of academic reasons,” A poke on your shoulder manages to draw a response out of you, but it doesn’t take Heeseung to realise that you’re no longer interested in his questions. “Should we get more beer?” 

Heeseung stares at you, wondering if you still want a response because you’re already picking up cans from the shelves and walking towards the counter for billing. Gradually, he realises that you don’t even remember asking him for his input because you’re simply paying the bills and thanking the woman for her service. Instead of a question, your words resonate more like a statement. As if, you are no longer asking for a third-party input, you don’t need it, you’re simply letting them know your next decision, disguising it as an action of. . . kindness? Soliticion? He doesn’t know.

Now that the sun is approaching the horizon, offering a purple hue to the ever so beautiful sky, Heeseung finally comes to terms with what he thinks about you. His mind traces back to the day you told him that he’s not who people make him out to be and for a brief second, he questions the credibility of your words. You claim to know him, but do you know that he has been living by the edge all this time, or that he has been fired thrice before getting a job in the bank he’s working right now, or that he tried to call you after you broke up with him, that he has been diagnosed with some sort of congenital heart condition? You didn’t lie when you said one’s family health history will follow them down to their grave. And just like you, he doesn’t know much about you either. Even though you’ve told him most of the things, ranging from your family to your current situation, Heeseung doesn’t know who you are. There’s an unfamiliar familiarity, or a familiar unfamiliarity, either works, he doesn’t have a better phrase to describe it. To think, while you consider yourself in a position to classify people’s thoughts on Heeseung as right or wrong, he doesn’t even consider himself in a position to pay for your food, and it’s probably because how you’ve been taking slow steps away from him, eyes still glued to your phone while you keep talking to him as if he’s right next to you, when actually, he’s twenty steps behind. The sun that has disappeared, leaving behind a sombre glow over the whole city, taught him something— that no matter how long you’ve known someone, you never know them enough. There are pieces of you that separate you from them, actions that tell you that no two people are mirrors for each other’s soul, for one’s body and mind knows how to differentiate between self and non self, and no one’s a ‘know it all,’ after all. 

“You’ve changed,” He mentions abruptly, and that’s when you finally look up in his direction, soaking in the awareness that Heeseung is no longer standing next to you. 

For some reason, the evening led you to a local restaurant and while you were busy on your phone again, Heeseung took his time reading the menu card. As he took his time ordering the drinks, your attention shifted to the view of busy streets on the other side of the glass window pane. You watched as the high schoolers had the time of their lives next to a vending machine, following the actions of the book store owner as he reopened his shop for the evening. You swear you heard Heeseung call out your name a couple of times, albeit it felt like a fever dream and you didn’t respond. 

Change, as he described you, you wonder what could’ve changed inside you. You don’t think there’s a lot. You still work like a maniac and refuse to go out. Your complaining nature never changed, but you still don’t voice your problems where you should. You still get terrible headaches and take a pill for every little inconvenience. In the end, you don’t think you’re very different from how you were when you met Heeseung. Except that your hard work barely pays off these days, you think you’re still the same, monotonic version of yourself that he fell in love with, the same you that dumped him on the day of graduation ceremony four years ago.

“You said I changed,” By the time your drinks had arrived, you were knee deep in the simulations that could’ve made Heeseung feel like you’ve changed. “In what aspects, if I may ask,” 

“Like, in general,” He replies with a nod. “I can’t point it out but something about you has changed— well, of course, your age aside,” Liar, he thinks. Heeseung, in fact, knows what has changed, but he doesn’t know how to put it in words. Well, I can’t say you’re no longer looking forward to my opinions on something. Because even though you met as neighbours, even though you’re in a restaurant with him, having a meal and sharing bits of your life’s stories with each other, even though Heeseung looks forward to seeing you everyday— he needs to remember that you started as exes. 

You manage to draw a long hum out of you, nodding cautiously as you take his every word into consideration. They don’t offer much insight about what he’s actually thinking, but again, you never know exactly what is going on inside someone’s head. However, you take your chance to try and get something out of him. “A good change or a bad change?” 

“That’s for you to figure out,” He says softly, tying his words with a long, silent pause that follows closely after. He shoots you a cheeky smile before digging in and you take your time examining his features under the yellow lights of the restaurant, noticing the way he cuts his steak, or the way his eyebrows perk up as soon as his phone rings. You watch him turn to his side as he picks up the call, putting hand on his mouth to minimise the sound, though it was loud enough for you to decipher it clearly. 

You read the slight changes in his expression and gradual curve of his lips swifting upwards. Amidst all, your phone rings as well, interrupting the decorum of the restaurant. You pick it up quickly when Heeseung sends you a displeasing look, though you believe it wasn’t intentional. You didn’t check the caller ID but the voice tells you that it’s your team leader and for some reason, you’re expecting something good. Call it a hunch or the change in scenery tonight but something tells you that there must be good news waiting for you in a secluded corner. While you try your best to focus on what is being informed to you from the other side of the line, you’re too busy analysing Heeseung’s grimace that now you’re mirroring the same smile that’s dancing on his face. He glances at you and his smile grows wider, making you do the same in return. You really hope your call isn’t about the presentation due tomorrow because if yes, then you’re going to mess up, for your attention is nowhere near your call. You’re so lost taking note of every single change in Heeseung’s expression that now, everything your team leader is telling you from the other side of the phone is a blur. It’s as if you’re in a crowded room and the only thing you’re able to perceive is him. You’re so busy indulging in his actions that the only thing you’re able to hear clearly from the phone is that you’ve been removed from the project.

‘I know that you’ve been working hard but the Chairman thinks you’re not skilled enough to collaborate with us on this project,’ You start paying attention to the conversation now, letting everything else around dissolve in the yellow glow of the restaurant. ‘To make sure your efforts aren’t wasted, you’re free to give us a brief view on what you had in mind and if we decide to include it, I’ll put in a word or two for you to the Chairman.’ 

‘Promotion,’ he mouths the word with a cheeky smile when your eyes focus back on him before getting back to his phone once again. You don’t put down your phone and pretend to be on a call to avoid hearing about his good news, or share the bad one from your side. You try to respond with the same smile but your lips feel like they’re frozen. No movements— you don’t know what to say, how to smile; numbness is all you could comprehend. For the first time in all the years that you’ve known him, a slight hint of envy intoxicates the air between you and Heeseung. You should be happy for him— you’ve always been. You’ve always been a part of his success despite falling to the rock bottom on your part. On days Heeseung called you to inform you about the awards he received in a particular competition, you’d invite him over for a celebratory drink even if you, yourself, lost terribly. It was a long drawn process of mutual development and self-care. What people thought of as a relationship written in the stars, was a selfish way of ensuring your well being in the most selfless ways ever. You stayed with Heeseung because he was the only person down to hang out with you in your apartment instead of forcing you to go out. You enjoyed his company because he motivated you to do better, to test your potential and go beyond your limits; and somewhere inside, you knew you were worth the same for Heeseung too. Watching him do well, isn’t that what you wanted? You should be happy for him— but you’re not.  

Heeseung excuses him outside the restaurant once his phone starts blowing up with texts and calls, giving you a chance to drop your facade and let the whole situation sink in. You lean back on your chair, phone on the table as its screen lights up with a message from your team leader, informing the team that you’ve decided to step down from the project— which is a lie but you assume it’s been told to save you for further embarrassment. You sniff, a chuckle falls off your lips, there’s no use of it at all, what’s done is done. On the other side of the glass pane, you could see Heeseung talking on his phone with a triumphant smile, making invincible patterns on the pavestone with the tip of his converses. It feels as if he’s shining against the busy streets behind him, as if he’s the centre of attention at the moment. It takes you exactly back to your graduation day— he was just as happy sharing the news about his graduation with his family. You were sitting inside a cafe and watched him talk for what felt like hours. Your heart was full of the same dissatisfaction, but now that you think about it, perhaps it was just jealousy back then too. While Heeseung was born smart, brimming with passion, you had to fight to get what you wanted. And despite being one of the brightest students in his class, Heeseung’s achievements never had a chance next to yours. You stood in the first three ranks of your school, first five all your college life, been recommended to prestigious schools, were given more opportunities, you were better than Heeseung in all the possible ways. 

You watch Heeseung come inside and pick up his fork, only to put it down and get back to typing once again. There’s a smile on his face and it tells you that you’re equally deserving of the happiness he’s experiencing, perhaps even more than him because life was way harder for you than anyone else you’ve known till date. For the first time in years, you think life is unfair to you because even after giving your best in everything, you’re met with nothing but failure and discontent. No matter how hard you try, your efforts never pay off and people start treating you like a pushover, thinking you would do everything they’d say because you need to put up a good image of yourself in your workplace. You walk hand in hand with failure and watch people succeed with their bare minimum effort. You look at him once again and think, why must it always be you who suffers the pain of failure and shame.

Why me, why not him? 

III. Remember why you broke up

By the time winters arrived and marked their peak, you barely got a view of your neighbour. A part of it could be because of his even busier work life that comes in with promotions. You took the weekend off, saying you have an annual health checkup scheduled at the City Hospital, even though it was a white lie and you never had an appointment with your physician to begin with. Those two days felt longer than usual with the four walls of your apartment making you feel suffocated in your own house. You paced around for hours on empty, rearranging things, cleaning rooms, cooking meals, moving furniture— just anything that would make you feel useful. Truthfully, being depressed over a promotion makes you feel even more stupid about yourself. It’s a part of life, something you involuntarily signed up for when you applied for your job and you can’t run away from it no matter how much you try. Being in the workforce comes with disappointment and pleasure, failures and success; it’s not your first time losing but it still feels like the burden of failure is occupying every little space in your room, making it harder and harder for you to breathe. 

You thought things would be better once you get back to work but everything starts caving in when you hear the team leader discuss details about the project. Initially, they would let you in their meeting, offering you a chance to share your ideas to see if they can cultivate anything better but it didn’t last long either. You started learning about their meetings after work from other colleagues and they started leaving you out of their discussions. On some days, you would sit by an empty table in the canteen and go back to every move you made, trying to track down the mistakes you could’ve made for them to push you away. You didn’t expect them to keep you updated on everything since you’re no longer on the project team, but it would’ve been better if they had simply said that you’re not needed anymore instead of watching you run around cluelessly before you caught a hint. Everything would’ve been a lot easier if you didn’t have to drag yourself around to survive and make a living. On days like these, you would imagine Heeseung in his cabin with a complacent smile, laughing with his friends and receiving compliments. You don’t know why but at one point in time, you started picturing yourself in his shoes while idly resting in your apartment. 

Occasionally, you would hear his footsteps outside your door and stop everything you’d be doing to hear him unlock his door and walk in. Having Heeseung with you was slightly better than living alone and drowning in your overbearing thoughts, but you decided to maintain your distance. Heeseung— apart from being your ex— was someone capable of doing something, anything. You’ve known Heeseung for years and the once carefree young adult found a purpose in life. He had goals to achieve, perhaps a to-do list to complete; you didn’t want to disturb his decorum with your lethargic lifestyle. On some days, he would knock on your door and you’d pretend to be asleep. He would stand for a minute longer and knock again, you would focus on the sound of him tapping his shoes until they faded behind his doors. You started with leaving him on seen and stopped reading his texts altogether. For a few days, it felt refreshing— as if he was never a part of your life to begin with— but the loneliness didn’t hit you until he stopped dropping by your door. And you realised— you were never able to get him out of your life properly. After you broke up, you moved away, blocking all means of contact, but met him at a reunion, and something inside of you prompted to get his number, and so you did. Even though you never talked, you found yourself staring at his number with your fingers hovering over his caller ID. 

It took you years, but you think you’re coming to terms with the truth, that you can never get Heeseung out of your life, and it’s not because you can’t, but instead it’s because you don’t want to. Life without Heeseung felt like a maze, but with him it’s as if you’ve found a way, and you would never admit but having him next to you was so much better than living alone with alcohol. 

When his absence overwhelmed you, you would try burying yourself into stuff as a distraction. It started with books, then painting, followed by poetry, before you would slump on your couch again with no motivation to do anything. Job wasn’t any better or busier. People had little expectations from you and you had even less. At times, you would pace in your living room, trying to complete a presentation or prepare an excel sheet. The deja vu caved in when you’d hear Heeseung’s cab stop by the apartment entrance, except you no longer ran to your balcony to catch a glimpse. You no longer sat on the balcony with tea, waiting for him to arrive. As time passed, you stopped paying attention to the sound of him unlocking his door. His footsteps dissolved in the heavy silence, too miscible for you to perceive. Occasionally, you’d find yourself thinking about him in the shower or before bed, but the thought of him never lasted long enough for it to dawn upon you. Before you knew it, Heeseung became just another neighbour you had, another resident living in the fourteen floored apartment.  

One evening, you bumped into a woman who was standing in front of Heeseung’s apartment. You didn’t see her face, for you were standing behind her with grocery bags, but you could picture what she looked like. Your eyes settled upon her chiffon shirt and the way it complimented figure, her stilettos, a handbag from Lana Marks, you couldn’t help but compare yourself to her. The thoughts about her knowing or being related to Heeseung didn’t cross your mind until a few minutes later. She, despite being someone you never met, was the exact image of how your younger self had imagined herself in future. 

“Excuse me, does Lee Heeseung live on this floor? I just want to confirm,” And her voice is just as captivating. You find yourself staring at her face longer than you should, losing the sense of reality because of all the questions hurdling inside your mind. 

Who even are you?

“He does, but he’s at work right now,” You reply with a bitter smile.

Who are you to him?

“I see,” It seems like she’s about to say something, and you’re not up for a small talk with a stranger, or Heeseung’s girlfriend, or his ex-girlfriend, your ex’s other ex girlfriend, whichever fits the scenario better. Actually, you’re not half against the idea of him dating someone else, not like your refusal will mean anything either. Truthfully, the idea never crossed your mind. You spent your days working days and nights to get the degree you’ve been aiming for, apply for jobs, fueling your hunger for having more and more. 

Maybe, that’s why college is supposed to include one of the most youthful years because after all, it is the only time when you’re free from most of the worries. You didn’t have stress about attending classes regularly or having proper notes like you did in highschool, nor did you have to worry about fitting into the workforce and numerous interviews. College, for you, was the time you could see yourself falling in love, and you did, and now that you stand in your marginally empty living room with your gaze reaching up to the farthest of the buildings touching the sky line, you realise that you don’t see yourself falling for someone the way you did for Heeseung. Perhaps that’s why your conscience refused to imagine him with someone else. Maybe because he had such an impact on you that you don’t see yourself with someone else, you sort of hoped that the time he spent with you had half, if not the same, impact on him as well. 

The evening passed by with you sitting in front of your laptop, scrolling through the document your boss sent you the same noon. The beer cans lie stray on the tiles, right next to you as you shiver under your beige cardigan. You’ve been wanting to close the balcony for a while now, except you don’t want to get up from the cushion that has warmed up with you sitting on it for two hours now, especially in this cold weather. You’re not busy, but you’ve been trying to indulge yourself into little work here and there. Even if it’s just moving your furniture from one corner to another, or going through a file that you’ve already reviewed the previous evening, anything that could make you feel less lonely is welcomed. 

These are the moments when you zone out involuntarily, thinking about Heeseung, or more precisely, his work life. You picture him in his cabin with a cup of coffee, skipping lunch because he has files stacking up on his desk. You imagine him amidst his colleagues at a local bar after working hours, having his drink of relief that hits his system with a wave of satisfaction after a long and busy day. You think about him a little too often for someone who’s trying to forget him. Usually, the thoughts are laced with traces of envy. Today, they’re drowning in something between regret and jealousy. You take a sip from the can in your hand, and suddenly, the image of Heeseung with the lady from earlier pops inside your mind. You’re not sure if they dated, or if they are dating, but you do know that they’re more than friends. Perhaps, it’s just a hunch, an intuition that’s terribly wrong and is driving you to insanity because of all the stuff you’re thinking about. You know you should stop but you can’t help but picture them together. 

Now, you’re thinking about their life together as a couple, the stuff they’d do, the things they’d say. You feel like an intruder peeping into their lifestyles, someone who’s uninvited in their story, a third person. You think about them doing everything you and Heeseung did together, but again, neither of you had a lot of things in your hands to begin with. You had your problems, he had his part-time job, a sorry excuse of a college major that both of you found interesting, along with each other’s shoulders to cry on when needed. While your stories started off as any other tale of love with paths decorated with flowers, it was far from how they portrayed love life in universities in the media. In reality, you barely have time for each other and if somehow you do, you know in the back of your head that you’re missing out on other things. College is, actually, just a bunch of things to do with limited time, and the time is running out of your hands while you sit on your bed and contemplate life decisions, crushing over some person from one of your classes, thinking about the bartender from that cafe downstreet, making up for everything you didn’t get to do during highschool. 

You and Heeseung didn’t have a lot of time to offer each other. Texts were shared, he’d face time with you every morning and you’d call him if you couldn’t see him after classes. Hugs shared in hallways reduced to apologies at your shared apartments, you both went from making out in club rooms to barely getting a glimpse of each other on weekdays. Initially, when he would get back after extra classes, you would be at the door, waiting with your arms open. After sometime, you’d be in your room, busy with your work while he would be lost in his own world of things to tend to. At first, Heeseung’s presence made you feel better about yourself but later on, it didn’t matter if he was there or not. It all felt the same, and the worst part, neither of you tried to work on it. Both you and Heeseung started to get used to the lack of each other. 

Your fingers tighten around the can, your mind goes back to thinking about the lady. Maybe, the lack of affinity in your relationship gave Heeseung a reason to give up and move on. Perhaps, she was everything to him that you couldn’t be, maybe she keeps standing at her doorstep to welcome him after he returns from work, that the two of them seek for each other instead of getting used to whatever has been offered by the circumstances. Could be that every kiss meant as a thank you for being in each other’s life instead of a sorry for not being able to see each other for days and more. Maybe, he is happy with her and you have no right to be jealous because in the end, you gave him every reason to try to forget you. 

Another shot of beer down your throat, another can added to the emptied stacks, your senses start fading into nothing when you hear distant clicking of doors, or perhaps it’s the hangover blanketing the sound for you. With the last bits of energy and soberness left in your system, you get up and open your door. 

“Didn’t expect you to remember me after all this time that you’ve been ignoring me,” Heeseung snaps at you playfully, or maybe, with a hidden sense of disappointment. You have the answer to his question if he asks why you suddenly opened the door when he didn’t even ring the doorbell, or why you’re here standing at your doorstep with nothing but a thin cardigan in this chilling weather. You’re just hoping he won't ask you for the reason you refused to see him until now, because you don’t have an answer to that. 

“Someone came, looking for you,” You say, and meanwhile, in the back of your head, you think of reasons why you actually ran to see him the moment he arrived from work. You don’t want to admit it’s because of the woman from earlier today, you don’t think she’s the reason behind the sudden changes in your mannerisms in the first place. “Some lady,”

A pause, you notice realisation seeping through the cracks of his skin. A second passes, and then another, his eyes tell you that he knows who it could be. “Right,” 

And, Heeseung steps inside your apartment as if it’s yours, and you step aside, letting him in, as if he has always belonged there, and it feels as if the walls have started to fade out the moment he takes a seat on the couch, taking a sip from the bear can you offer him with eyes ever so indulged in him, as if he has returned home after months. Heeseung exhales deeply before letting the words fall off his lips. “We dated for a while,” 

You expected that much, judging from her mannerism and the way she took your name. You had expected them to be in a relationship, or had pictured them as exes who are planning to get back together, a luxury you could never afford. Consequently, you bury those thoughts deep inside, taking a seat next to him, and for some reason, you feel breathless in your own house, on your own couch, with your own bear intoxicating your systems. It’s something Heeseung has always done to you; making you feel out of place. 

You want to yell at him. 

Looking at Heeseung, you don’t know what exactly made you fall for him in the first place. For example, say, you can claim that he dislikes drinking out late with friends and is the type to study even during gatherings based on just one incident. You can sit back and claim to be almost, if not just as, similar to him, pointing out the similarities while completely ignoring the differences, crossing them out of your list of reasons why. But considering everything now, Heeseung has always been different, and a better different. He received good grades even after spending empty hours at your apartment, watching you study. You complained about having day long picnics with him, saying the two of you could use that time more efficiently. As a result, there were nights you could cry yourself to sleep because you were unable to look at your relationship from his point of view. You would kiss him but it’s an apology for the upcoming week that you wouldn’t be able to see him, and you would cancel dates just to study another chapter beforehand. Every single second spent next to him reminded you of all the sacrifices he made for you and every thing you did to disregard his efforts. No, you weren’t a bad partner, his timing was wrong, but saying that would be just another excuse to soothe your aching heart. Looking at him now, it takes you back to all the days you’ve spent together in pain and pleasure, between yes and no’s, do’s and don’ts, a choice between leaving and staying for a little bit longer; the memories are bittersweet like your favourite wine, or rather, they resemble a cold autumn breeze that makes you shut your doors and windows, keeping you from enjoying your favourite season. Time spent with him was short, though nice, but thinking of him makes you blue. You said you wouldn’t see him again but you’re still here, next to him, stuck in the past, still young, still making mistakes, still growing, not knowing if you’ll ever learn. 

“So, how was work today?” You ask, partially because you don’t want to think about him and partially because of the slight curiosity you have regarding his work life, about how it feels to do something he likes, something that doesn’t feel like a chore. 

“You’re not going to ask why we broke up?” He questions back. 

“I figured that it’s your private matter,” 

“She said I didn’t love her,” He says it factually, as if it’s something you’re supposed to know. “That I used her to pass time while waiting for someone else,” His words are unclear, insinuating towards something that you dare not assume, but his eyes are telling you that it’s your fault. 

And for once after you broke up with you, you wonder if Heeseung resents you for calling off your relationship. The thought of him hating you has never crossed your mind, be it your pride or habits to avoid taking the blame. You don’t resent him, he can’t either. You loved each other, you got over it, you broke up, that’s life. That’s the flow of the universe, to meet people and leave him to meet someone else and to keep meeting a new person until you find the one you could stay with. If he thinks you’re the reason why he hasn’t been able to move on, then he’s no different from you, for the thought of him dating someone else has been bugging you ever since the two of you had a drink together on the night you moved in. 

To you, love was inordinate. I love you, Heeseung would say, and you’d ask, how much— he wouldn’t find the words to answer you then. You can go on, pretending none of this ever happened, draping sheets over all the memories about everything you and Heeseung were, in the back of your mind, and fall in love with him all over again, living as all the things you could’ve been. You’ve put too much faith in your love for him, knowing that even after spending the sunsets alone, your mornings will always commence in his arms. There’s fear lurking around, you chose to ignore it. So resentment, in your relationship, was a bliss neither of you could have. For every day that you stood him up, Heeseung paid you back multiple folds. Every moment spent in his arms struck you back with arguments that seemed to get bigger, and none of you were ready to work things out. The pain was mutual, you both hurt each other, then why does it seem like only you’re in the wrong? 

“Turns out, I never gave you a congratulatory gift for your promotion. I should be having a bottle of wine if I’m not wrong,” You get up from your couch; a subtle attempt to change the topic and drive the atmosphere in any other direction except the one it was flowing into. 

Silence takes over, you’re in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, he’s on the couch, the sound of water dripping down your kitchen sink hits your ears as you get conscious of the periodic sounds of the clock ticking. Maybe, wine is just an excuse to get away from Heeseung and everything that his presence takes you back to. It feels like university all over again, where you could spend hours in silence next to each other, though this time, you’re apart, but still, under the same roof. The sense of something being terribly wrong looms in the air, but none of you could bring yourselves to say something, because you both need a shoulder to lean on. There are heavy untold words housing the back of your mind, unasked questions that haunt Heeseung in his sleep, suppressed emotions both of you know couldn’t be expressed so easily this time ‘round. 

There’s no wine at your place, but you put water to boil while preparing hangover soups for both of you. His exhausted grimace tells you he needs it, and you need it even more than him. You’re taken back to the days when either of you would have a run down to the nearest convenience store to the university to get beer and then spend the night before the test amidst alcohol and sheer stress weighing your shoulders. You would refuse to waste your time instead of studying but one look at Heeseung and you’d lose your composure. Blurred words about how both of you should be studying for exams would escape your lips between sips from your cans and, Heeseung would simply laugh at your failed efforts to pull yourself together. On days, you think about the possibility of you and him and you could’ve been if time had allowed, wondering if you could’ve made things right by attending the reunion last year instead of making excuses to pass just because Heeseung was going to be there. You consider every single scenario where he and you could’ve been together if time had allowed, and if either of you had taken a step towards making things right, then again, a voice from the back of your mind would tell you to give up. 

You hear Heeseung let out an exaggerated sigh. “I resigned,” 

“What?” And it feels like your lungs have collapsed. “I mean, you’ve been promoted then, why?” You don’t get it. Resigning from a job that had everything to offer seemed too incomprehensible in your knowledge. Had it been you— had it been anyone else— would think the same.

You’ve spent months in despair, searching for a purpose in the way you make money, a reason to keep going on between oceans of failure with pieces of your shattering will staying afloat. You’ve spent nights staying up, working on a presentation and giving it your everything to secure a better position in your department. Not a day has passed when you didn’t feel like you’ve lost the purpose of everything and yet, kept going with the flow of life to see if something good lies at the other end. And Heeseung would say, who cares about the standards of normal people, but recruiting managers don’t look for something out of the ordinary. They’re not looking for someone who would operate things based on whether it fits their sense of satisfaction, someone who would resign after getting a promotion when other employees struggle to get one. You would consider having a long talk about the choices he made and one he should’ve gone with, but instead, you sit in front of him on the cold winter tiles. 

“Promotions can make you feel good for a while, but they can’t satisfy you in the long run,” He says it easily, a little too carelessly for your comfort. “I just want to do something I like,” And once again, you come to the conclusion that these are the reasons why you and Heeseung wouldn’t have made it even if you had tried.

He’s too different. 

Heeseung has nothing to lose, never had to begin with. When you saw yourself for a whole month, doing everything in the same way, he was out enjoying his life. Now that you’ve managed to pull yourself together and learnt to handle your emotions, though not by a long shot, he shows up and tells you that he has resigned from his perfect job, or rather, a job that would’ve been perfect for you, at least. You would’ve been a better employee, you’re efficient, you don’t make decisions impulsively, have excellent qualifications, know how to separate work and private life, how to separate likes and dislikes from needs and necessities. You wouldn’t have resigned because if you did, you would’ve lost your only source of income, your last straw, something that has been keeping you from returning back to your stagnant lifestyle. You would’ve been a much better employee than Heeseung. 

You’ve seen him living like he has no worries. You’ve seen him switch clubs, change hobbies, drop subjects until he settled with something that satisfies him. Heeseung is about kissing his lovers between paintings at an art museum, promising forever, but he’s so quick to change his heart. Heeseung knows what’s important and what’s not a little too much, he knows what he needs and things that have no use for him anymore. Perhaps, it’s a sense of fearlessness that you acquire growing up the way he did, exquisitely happy and desperately carefree. You think it’s just a waste of time and resources for people like Heeseung because they don’t understand the value of certain things just because they’ve received it too easily. You wouldn’t disregard his efforts because you’ve seen him work hard to make ends in university. Even though things were a tad bit easier for him compared to you, you know it was the hardest time he had during university. You admire Heeseung for his consistency and passion, but you despise him for throwing away something you’ve seen people cry for; something that you’ve cried for, over a hundred times. While you may come to respect his choices when you wake up the next day, but right now, you wish that he was in your shoes, living life the way you’ve been living, suffering, struggling, suppressing. 

“People just don’t get by through society with their likes and dislikes,” There’s a touch of envy in your words, you hope it wouldn’t get past him. You grew up doing everything that would result in a secure future instead of something that satisfies you, to put it straight. The managers at interviews don’t look for candidates with most unique or extraordinary likes and hobbies, but rather they’re in search of someone with experience, ironically, and someone who can adapt to different circumstances without diminution of their efficiency. 

And you think, the childhood people have, or the way they grow up, what they go through and the circumstances they lived in, it really shapes their future selves. Growing up in a financially suboptimal family made you believe that money is everything, and people can try convincing you otherwise but their views wouldn’t alter the truth. Even if you wake up and try to think that money isn’t the most important thing, you would learn to believe otherwise the moment you open your empty refrigerator by the end of this month. You didn’t waste time having highschool romances and university love stories. You’ve had your fair share in having crushes and one night stands until you met Heeseung, and thinking about it now, a part of you knows it was a better decision to stay with him instead of hoping you had someone by your side on days when you didn’t feel like yourself. Perhaps, you did use him like a part of your conscience claims. Maybe at the end of day, away from all the concepts of love and lust, that’s what he was to you, a band aid that needed to be replaced before it infects the very wound it was healing. 

“You’re going to regret it,” It’s a breathy confession, a bitter truth. “Decisions made impulsively, they always leave heavy regrets,” You’ve been walking hand in hand with regrets. You’ve made decisions, many of which you thought would offer great results but instead, left with heavy regrets. You know better than giving up on the perfect job in search of something you’d enjoy doing, or walking in another direction knowing it’s the longer way home. Life has given you your fair share of events to think back to whenever you sit back, planning to do something new. Sometimes, you wonder why all of this only happens with you, and as an answer, you think that maybe, you’re the only one who would take life for its lessons and losses and still keep on going as if nothing ever happened. 

“Then, did you ever regret breaking up with me?” You see, Heeseung was never successful in comprehending the whole logic behind love. He was told it’s warm, but he knows love is the loneliest place a person could ever find themself in; he read that it’s kind, but Heeseung has spent nights spilling tears on his pillow, all because of love. It’s self contradicting; love is supposed to make you feel happy, but it stings. It gets under his skin, makes him unsteady, makes him question everything he has ever believed about love. He didn’t see it coming. Truthfully, Heeseung didn’t see you coming into his life. You were a boon and a blessing, the one who made him feel reckless and out of control; the one he is infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to. Ironically enough, you’re not the one who tucks him in bed, but instead the reason why he cannot sleep at night. So, Heeseung needs to know if his presence made you feel the same way, or if he was really just another passerby in your melancholy. 

His question is the words you’ve been avoiding to notice ever since you called off your relationship with him. It has been hiding in the back of your head, popping up every once in a while when your heart aches for love and when your arms feel emptier than the streets after midnight. And amidst your heavy heart and cold tiles, your hands find their way to his. A faint apology falls off his lips, whispered in your ears. The moon watches you slip his shirt off his shoulders, your lips tracing along his neck while his hands find solace in your curves as if you’re the home they’ve been yearning for; an old spark ignites again, a beginning of something tragic. 

As the night dwells further into the darkness, the two of you are pulled back into the old cycle of healing and hurting, the give and take where both of you would be standing with your hands stained with losses by the time it ends. Your steps are heading towards actions you couldn’t reverse, and the very reason you broke up flashes in front of your eyes, though faded enough to have you ignore it. Guilt trickles through your fingertips, seeping through the cracks of his skin, his eyes gleam of remorse, and the moment your lips meet his’, fate decides to play into the hands of your history once again. 

IV. One step at a time

It didn’t feel right watching Heeseung being so busy even after resigning from his job. You always see him on his laptop, typing or reading something. Morning to evening, from noon to night, you’d see the lights in his apartment switched on, faint rumblings of furniture and numerous phone calls filtering through his walls and entering yours. He was busy, he was planning something huge, and you didn’t like the sound of it. 

You’ve come to a point in life where you can finally accept your pettiness and slash or, your jealousy. Maybe, it’s one of the few emotions you’ve been feeling over the past week, and now, you finally know the reason why. Waking up this morning, you imagined yourself in his shoes once again— without a job, without a secure financial flow, without a purpose or strong sense on what to do next, just as someone in the workforce who’s contributing to nothing. The furthest your imagination took you was to your terrace, you don’t know how you would live through a life like that. 

Some things about Heeseung have never made sense to you. While he might come off as someone who has plans prior to everything, you always see him as someone who lives his life based on a hit and trial concept. He does one thing, and if it doesn’t fit to his liking, he switches to other, and then other, and then he has a never ending cycle in his hands. You weren’t there when he got a job but you know how Heeseung looks when he is passionate about something. The evidence lies all the way back to university, or during the few months that you’ve witnessed him go to work before quitting abruptly. You’ve spent evenings trying to deduce a conclusion as to why he resigned, and every possibility leads you to the answer that it was a decision made in spur of the moment. A part of you thought about asking him for a reason if he ever had one, but you ultimately realised that a person like him doesn’t need a reason to choose something that he likes; no one does, except you. People don’t put a second thought when it comes to choosing what they like and what they don’t. They date their crushes, eat their favourite food, watch their favourite movies, attend concerts of their favourite artists; favourite, it’s a word that tends to solve most of the trivial problems that arise throughout one’s life. Perhaps, that’s another reason why you decided not to ask Heeseung about the night from two days ago. Even though you made the move, the most he can say about complying and giving in to your acts would be because he wanted to do so; no reason, no plans, nothing. 

Maybe, it was your fault. You could’ve taken one step at a time, starting from dinner, then something else— you don’t know what people do to get back with their exes. You’ve never done that, would have never if it wasn’t for Heeseung, because something about him has you gravitating in his direction. That’s why, you sit on his couch, the TV remote in your hands as a random show plays on the screen. Your eyes are rather focused on Heeseung, who sits by the kitchen counter, typing something on his laptop for the past hour. He has been busy with that lately. You pictured unemployment as lying on your bed all day, or pacing around your apartment uselessly, having the days feel longer and watching the time pass because you have nothing better to do. But, Heeseung is way too busy for someone who has recently resigned, he’s even busier than how he used to be. You asked him about it once, and he said it’s something he has been wanting to do for a while now. Heeseung never gave you the context, but you know he is putting his time into writing drafts for his book. 

Occasionally, you anticipate a small talk with him, but with no signs of Heeseung being interested in anything except his drafts, your eyes instead run all over his living room, taking a note of every single detail that exhibits his taste in interior decor that has changed over time. The wine coloured curtains are a little too vibrant to fit his choices of decors and furniture. You remember him planning out the living room layouts with you back in university when you were still together, when life was beautiful and you were impossibly happy. 

You find it amusing how quickly things change. It’s been years but if you’re being honest, it feels like just yesterday, you were accepted in the university you’ve been aiming for, as if just yesterday, you earned the scholarship, and just yesterday, you had met Heeseung. Your heart still picks up a pace at the sight of him.You’ve spent months thinking about the time you spent with him, regretting every move that led you to the decision to break up with him. You’ve had your fingers just centimetres above his caller ID, just impulses away from making a call, seconds away from asking him to get together back again, heartbeats away from giving into your desires. It started with your falling for him first, and you kept falling harder and harder until you realised that you were at the bottom of the pit and it was getting hard to breathe. You spent years trying to make your way up, step by step, and when you were finally by the edge, he came back and pushed you back to where you had started. You would say you hate him but a part of you wants to believe this could lead to something better than how it was last time, because things have started to feel a lot like love, and you’d like to take a chance with your broken fate yet again. 

“Heeseung,” You call once, voice low and quiet like a whisper, one that dissolves between the sound of television. You expect him to hear, but your words fly by his ears as if they’re of little to no importance. “Heeseung,” You say again, this time a little louder, eyes fixed in his direction, watching the seconds pass and waiting for a reply. For a second, you wonder if he’s pretending to not hear you deliberately, but you push yourself to sit up straight, hoping he’d hear you this time. “Hee,” 

And he whips his head in your direction. It was for a brief second, but you could see a hint of surprise in his eyes. You would’ve said you have accomplished something if Heeseung had spared you a little more attention, but his eyes go back to his laptop and before you know it, his fingers start dancing above the keys yet again. 

“What are we?” You ask, half hopeful, half defeated. You don’t know where the question comes from, or why you are even asking it. Your heart isn’t hoping for a happily ever after romance, your mind isn’t looking for a redemption arc. You’re not hoping for a good response, you’ve learnt to keep your expectations low after everything that has unfolded in the past. You’re not hoping, you tell yourself, but your soul knows otherwise. 

A second passes, then another, your mind starts coming up with answers to your own questions. What could you be? To strangers, you’re neighbours; to your friends, you’re exes; to yourselves, it’s a broad question. You could tell your mind that you’re in a friends-with-benefit relationship that has a terrible lack of communication and get away with it, but your heart knows it was supposed to be something wrong. 

“You tell me,” A soft laugh falls off his lips, it makes him sound like he’s lost as well, just like you. You take it as a good enough response but Heeseung stands up from his chair, making way towards his bedroom as if you aren’t even there, as if your question holds no meaning. You would’ve assumed his response meant that even if you both are without labels at the moment, you could be something in the future. Maybe, your actions from two nights ago would’ve lead to something good if he was less busier, but for now, all they do is guide you to the answer to your own question: 

A temporary fix. 

That’s what you both are. It’s exactly how it was back in university, a sense of mutualism with no sense of responsibilities. Things were obligatory, dates were barely a show to the world for your sorry excuse of a relationship. It started off like a fairytale, as if you both were supposed to meet, meant to fall in love, made for each other. In the first few weeks or even months, having Heeseung next to you felt like a blessing. A luxury to come home to someone, to have someone you can vent to about that one professor who kept dismissing your essays, someone who you can talk about your endless project and seminar ideas and they would reply with the same enthusiasm, someone who could make you feel like you’re seeing the world just by staying within the four walls of your messy apartment. Dating Heeseung had you believing in all the romance tropes you’ve ever come across, so much that you forgot that you’ve been living in a painful reality. 

You tried not to ponder over it so much. You went back to work once the weekends passed, back to your old excel sheets and same old job. Occasionally, you would wish he stayed next to you until you finished your work just like he did back while you were still dating, but you knew it was too much to even hope for. You would say, you’re going crazy. Perhaps, you shouldn’t think so much about the one-night-stand sort of thing you had with your ex, your neighbour. You both are adults, one without a job and other without the will to do the job, both brimming with unsaid feelings, tied to loose ends, holding onto unasked questions for answers, troubled by old memories and the future that was about to come. He deserved an explanation, you had an excuse to share. Whatever happened, was bound to happen. 

Sometimes, you wonder if Heeseung thinks about it as much as you do. Memories from that night haunt your mind like spirits, making it hard for you to focus on anything and everything else, yearning to feel his touch one last time. There are evenings when you’d come home in hopes of having a conversation about what would happen to the two of you in near future, but then you’d see his eyes glued to his laptop screen the moment you enter his apartment and you’d realise that it has only been you all along. Watching Heeseung do well even after giving up his job no longer induces anger or jealousy. Instead, a sense of inferiority floods inside of you whenever your eyes fall upon his figure leaning over his laptop, typing relentlessly with a content smile on his face. And the reason, once again, lies in the concepts of too many similarities and even more differences. 

Months ago, when you were still in Incheon, still bound to your old apartment and old lifestyle, there was a point when you had seen yourself at your lowest. You used to drag yourself to work, force yourself to smile, push yourself to make it through everyday. You struggled to do the bare minimum that was necessary to survive. You wouldn’t say your situation was any better than Heeseung only because you still have a job while he doesn’t, because inside the four walls of his apartment, he’s doing better than any other unemployed person out there. He’s doing better than you while you still had your job, while you still had money in your hands to spend on useless things. You spent months pulling yourself through just to make sure you don’t lose your job, and Heeseung resigns from his’ a little too easily. You feared every second that passed because you didn’t know what the future would hold, and if you still had a future, but Heeseung is sitting on his couch and writing as if he has nothing to worry about. You saw yourself for months, doing the same thing, in the same way, and Heeseung is living every minute as if it offers him something amusing. 

Life was always easier for Heeseung, and you wonder if this is the reason why you’re standing by his door with your nails digging into the palm of your hands. Maybe, if this is why you don’t try to strike a conversation and instead, walk out of the door as if you accidentally walked into the wrong apartment and now that you’ve realised your mistake, you would make sure you don’t repeat it and end up in the same place ever again. 

The next few days pass by rather slowly. 

You’ve been trying to keep yourself busy with work. Though it’s a bit hard to focus when everything else is plaguing your mind, things have started to get into place once again. Additionally, you’ve also been busy trying to grow a liking for your job after getting an earful from your boss. The truth is, you don’t exactly hate your work life. Materialistically, it’s perfect— a good environment, impressive benefits, a considerably loaded paycheck— it’s wonderful, but intellectually, you feel you’re at the same place where you started from. You haven’t gotten a new project in a while ( was kicked off the one that kept you motivated ) not a single new thing about work except reviewing documents and passing them on for signatures. One could tell you to quit and look for something you prefer to do, but resigning and pursuing something that you like, unlike Heeseung, is a luxury you never had on your side. 

Before you realised, it had already been a week since what happened between you and Heeseung. You wanted to talk about it, hoped to, but he’s harder to see than the most. You could see him through your kitchen that faces his bedroom. You would see his shadow roaming behind the curtains, a notebook in his hand, or a laptop, rarely. Heeseung likes to scribble his thoughts on a paper before settling with one, it’s something you’ve noticed back in the university when he spent nights working on his projects while you sat still at the corner of your bed. You can still watch him on and on for hours, sitting on his couch and imagining him walking up and down his living room while working on his drafts. 

Watching Heeseung is one thing you will never get tired of. It’s a little discovery on its own. Every step he takes and every move he makes tells you something new, something you hadn’t known before. You remember sitting next to him in libraries late at night and watching him study. It was supposed to be a simple observation, perhaps an intention to catch onto his tricks and tips to study, and suddenly you see him biting his nails as if his pores are dripping with nervousness. It made you feel better knowing that someone like him has his moments where he’s nervous, even scared, maybe more. Watching Heeseung was something you had on your daily checklist because those moments reminded you that he’s not all strange, that there are similarities, and that he also falls weak, just like you. Watching him felt like watching yourself, as if he’s more you than you are. It felt like taking a look into the mirror and realising that whatever souls are made of, yours and his are the same. 

But mirrors for each other's soul has a cost: by the time they part from each other, the individuals have become indistinguishable. Before their merger, they each yearned for the other; as they part, they part from self. Maybe, that’s why leaving him felt like leaving pieces of yourself and meeting him again felt like you could breathe once again. 

You can hate him for all the reasons why he is better than you and for all justifications you could offer to prove otherwise. You can spend hours explaining why life has been unfair to both of you, yet still he gets to have the better end while you always fall back to the start even after all the times you’ve tried. You can go out and tell the world your tales of misery and braveness, how you didn’t give up even after life dragged you beyond what could possibly be the worst, and you can complain your heart out about how Heeseung, despite having everything you could ever ask for, gave up all because it didn’t fit to his liking. You can call him a coward in front of eight billion people and would still find yourself in front of his doorsteps at the end of the day, just like now, because after all, he’s the only person who would welcome you with open arms. 

“Have you ever tried painting?” You ask while taking a look at all the loose sheets lying around on the centre table in his living room. It comes off a surprise when you find that what he has been scribbling behind his beige curtains were sketches of characters of his novel, rough and messy, some drawn seemingly in love while others had patches of pain in their eyes. 

“As a kid, yeah. My parents made me try almost everything out there,” He replies on his way from the kitchen with two coffee mugs in his hands; and amusingly enough, it would be the first time you’d be having coffee with him ever since you moved, because every other conversation was accompanied with alcohol or wine. “But paint brushes aren’t my forte, really,” You take one of the cups, nodding in the process. Your childhood wasn’t any different, despite the financial shortcomings. You remember taking extracurricular classes at least four days a week, all for different fields, art being one of those. You wouldn’t say your painting skills are worth exhibiting, but they are better than his. Maybe, that’s why you briefly consider pointing out his mistakes, telling him that he could try fixing the body proportions to make the figures look more presentable but again, you refrain yourself from doing so. 

Instead, you take your time observing Heeseung, again. 

A sip of coffee hits your system, you sit on the couch, watching him arrange the sheets into one place. Earlier, it seemed as if Heeseung didn’t care about you seeing his living room in such a mess, as if it’s something you’re allowed to see because it’s you. You notice the way he’s holding onto the coffee mug, you’ve always loved how his fingers wrap around its perimeter completely. It’s one of the things about him that you find attractive. He sits on the opposite end of the couch and you’re sent thinking about the last time you both sat like this, having coffee over silent smiles. One second, you’re thinking about all the good times you’ve had and the next, your mind drifts back into the thoughts from a few nights ago. 

The coffee started tasting bitter or maybe, it’s just your thoughts. From thinking about his hands in yours to the smile that used to warm up your evening, nothing seems to cross your mind except the way you felt when his lips captured yours for the first time in years; nothing compares to that, not even close. You thought it’d be fine this time ‘round, people don’t make the same mistakes over and over again. Meeting Heeseung again was like falling back into the hole you’ve been climbing up, but hitting the bottom never hurt. You thought things would work out just fine because you’ve grown up. You’ve learnt things, you know what you did wrong back then and you know exactly what to do to make things right. All these things, they ran an imaginary conversation inside your head where everything went back to normal. There was a point where you couldn’t distinguish between daydreams and reality, and the truth didn’t hit you until you were sitting on the floor of your shower, hyperventilating his name into your hands; and you asked yourself— is it so bad for people to just use one another?  

Because friends with benefits is also a relationship based on convenience, you don’t get why loving someone the same way is deemed toxic or simply unacceptable. If things had worked that way, you wouldn’t have ever ended up on this turn of life. You and Heeseung would kiss but won’t be in love, sleep next to each other but won’t be a couple, share your secrets but won’t be friends. He would be someone you would’ve seeked on evenings you couldn’t stop crying and you would be someone he could hold onto on days that made him feel like he couldn’t go further. Not lovers, but not friends, just something, someone you could use and not feel guilty about, someone who could walk away a hundred times without hurting you, someone you didn’t feel obliged to focus on. You both could’ve been someone who didn’t feel like a chore to each other. If people could just use each other, perhaps, you and Heeseung would have lasted longer. 

Commitments are hard. Loving is hard, because a day comes where you run out of all the reasons to love. You become selfish, starting thinking about the give and receive, the shortfalls, the absence. The part of your lover that you fell for becomes the very reason why you fall out of love. Instead of appreciating the times spent together, you start complaining about all the minutes that went in waste, all the days they weren’t by your side. You take a step away from the commitment you swore upon and then one day, you start walking away before you even realise. So, loving is hard, and it’s even harder to fall in love again when you’ve walked away once and you’re afraid to do it again, not because you don’t want to hurt the person you love, but because you want to save yourself from hurting all over again.

“How are you doing?” You ask above the silence, voice no louder than a whisper. You’re hoping for a conversation none other than about what happened that night. It’s not because you want him to take responsibility because you’re just as responsible for it, perhaps more. You simply hate how you’re the only one still hung over it, you hate how he can go on with his life without worrying about the things he did that have shifted the ground beneath you. 

“Good,” He replies, just as quietly. A pause follows, you feel his eyes on your while yours are still fixed on the mug, fingertips running circles along its rim. “Great,” And, you find another reason for why you’ve been acting lately. The worst part about walking away isn’t the realisation that you have to leave everything that once made you happy, but instead, it’s the hope that follows you everywhere you go. You hope that they’ll run after you, that they’ll stop you and tell you not to leave, that they’ll beg you to say and tell you they need you, but they never do, Heeseung never did. 

You look at him after much consideration, there’s a certain look of inevitability in his eyes. It’s not welcoming but it’s not pushing you away either. It’s like he’s telling you there would be a moment when you would look at him in a certain way, and you both would cross the threshold from friendship into something so much more. Perhaps, it’s just the mood of time or your imagination that has you seeing things, but you feel a certain innuendo in his gaze and the way it traces every patch of your skin, from your eyes to down your hands, threatening to transverse further down below. It could be an innocent play of eyes, a harmless action that doesn’t mean anything more than. . . something. 

It’s how you begin, your mouth against his, and his fingers tracing along the back of your neck. It feels euphoric and equally sinful, the way his lips move in synchrony with yours, fitting like puzzle pieces. Heeseung tugs you closer by your waist, a faint gasp escaping your mouth that dissolves immediately into your breaths mingling together. He’s pushing you back into the couch, your mind plays all the moments with him like a short film, it feels like a warning sign, but you’re far in too deep to pay attention to anything else except him. Every swivel of his head sends you down a spiral of pain and pleasure, you’re somewhere between pushing away and pulling in. You’re so lost, it feels like you’re on an island and Heeseung is the water. If you’re drawing, he’s the oxygen, if you’re falling, he’s gravity— his presence in your life is contradictory. He’s the reason you’re hurting, and the very reason you like every second of it. Heeseung pulls back, a gaze full of love, he whispers a sweet confession. 

“Date me,” he says. You don’t remember responding, and the next time those words flood back inside your mind is two days after the incident, when you’re laying on your living room floor with beer once again. 

You’re counting now, the amount of times you’ve ended up on the floor with beer, thinking about all your past actions and regretting. It kind of sounds funny to think about it, to think an adult can’t pull their life together and resorts to alcohol even at minute inconveniences. His words haunt your mind day and night, in sleep and when you’re awake, in happiness and in sorrow. It seems like you’re back to stage one, where all he ever did was look at you and all you ever could do was think about him for as long as possible. Focusing on work doesn’t help. You tried shifting your furniture from one corner to the other, avoided Heeseung for three days before he was at your door with the electricity bill that was accidentally given to him. Consequently, your alcohol intake has increased again, not that it ever went down, but frequent meetings at work gave you a reason to stay sober. As for now, you’ve been spending each day the same way, vegetatively, ever so stagnant, like water in an infected pond that is born to numerous parasitic diseases. Your refrigerator is getting emptier day by day, you feel too exhausted to buy groceries. Days transform into weeks, Heeseung leaves for Busan for a week. He didn’t tell you. You overheard it from the ladies in the elevator. Now, there’s a closed door in front of you everytime you open the door to your house. A door with letters and envelopes piling up, a plant that is drying up day by day because looking at it, you assume Heeseung had forgotten about it. When the energy to cook leaves your body, you resort to ordering takeouts. Missed calls from work are the only thing preventing your apartment from drowning in silence. When the last of your hope dies, you resign from work. 

You think you’re going crazy, because you get back to the cycles of standing in the balcony around the time Heeseung used to return from work. A part of you knows he doesn’t work anymore, heck, he isn’t even in the city, but you spend most of your day thinking about him. At times, you wonder the point of all this. You wake up, check your phone for any texts from Heeseung or simply anyone. Fifteen minutes pass and you drag yourself out of the bed, eat ramyeon, watch television, sit on the balcony with bear, watch the people come and go, eat ramyeon for lunch again, sleep, ramyeon for dinner— you needed someone else, something that would break you out of this vicious cycle. There are days when your own skin suffocates you, when the image in the mirror doesn’t feel like yourself but rather, a faceless person. You’ve spent hours sitting in the shower and letting the water prune your fingers. You let your tears wet the bed sheets. For some reason, it feels like you’re coming to terms with reality. 

As days pass by without Heeseung, you’re starting to realise your feelings, able to sort out things you want and don’t. You thought your dream was to live an average, normal life. Looking at it now, you don’t think it’s what you wanted, maybe you didn’t have a choice to begin with. You studied in a prestigious university, you had scholarships to support your tuition fee, you had a job that paid you well enough, you had everything any other person your age would desire, you had those things because you wanted to set an example. You lived for your siblings, you lived for your parents, you lived for the expectations that came with your intelligence and skills. Sitting in the bathtub as your mind revisits every decision you’ve ever made in life, not one was for yourself. Or maybe there was— loving Heeseung. 

Perhaps, at the end of the day, you wanted someone who would love you, someone who would watch you be selfish and slowly clap at the back of the theatre because you’re doing a good job, you’re choosing yourself above everyone else. Heeseung was the person, it’s the only thing you’re so sure about in your life. He was like a saviour in the apocalypse. He’d tell you to blather about your insecure mind that kept nagging you regarding all the things you couldn't do and, he’d explicate how exquisitely it told you lies that you believed. You thought you could reciprocate, but every moment spent next to him reminded you of things he was and things you could never be. You were scared he’d notice your insecurities, the voices tell you that you’re only worth abandoning. You guessed it wouldn’t be hard, you just had to hide your feelings, and years later, your decisions prove you wrong once again. You’re struggling to breathe under your skin, your heart desires for him, you’re falling in deep again, and you’re about to pack your bags. That’s how your life has always been, to avoid getting hurt, you hurt the people you love. 

Maybe, you need him after all. Heeseung was one thing you were certain of in your life— still is— but you had your pride ruling your life, and he had stars to reach. 

At some point during Heeseung’s trip, you pick up a paint brush. It’s a sudden decision, an impulsive move. You wake up one morning and your senses crave the smell of oil paints and brushes. You never had a talent for painting, not by a long shot. You attended classes back in middle school but had to drop out because of your family’s financial conditions. You think you’re trying to copy Heeseung. You both have unsaid words in the back of your mind, both need to convey their feelings one way or another. Heeseung picked a pen, you chose a paintbrush. It’s supposed to be therapeutic, you have heard about art therapy. There is no set subject, you draw whatever comes to your mind. Your first piece exhibits your kitchen. There are unwashed dishes, you used yellow to add a light glow except, you used a little too much of the colour. The second one, an apple from your fruit basket. Third, your ceiling— white, blank, empty, you’ve named it ‘My head’s ceiling,’ as lame as it sounds. Your fourth is the cat that roams the neighbourhood on most nights. You don’t know about anatomy, but you sure do see slight improvements with colouring. Your fifth and the last one is Heeseung from the night you met him for the first time after moving in, and then he finally arrives from his trip. 

“Did you miss me?” He asks you when you show up at his doors in a thin cardigan and a bottle of wine in your hands. Weather was never a problem, any place with Heeseung tends to feel warmer. You walk inside, eyes on the loose sheets lying all over his kitchen counter. You wonder how he will react after hearing about your resignation. 

“I missed drinking with you,” You may or may not have a motive behind your words, maybe you wanted to feel him against you once again, maybe the wine ends up being an excuse again, but the night doesn’t flow in that direction. You tell him about your resignation, he finds it funny after the ‘pep-talk’ you gave him when he resigned. You tell him about your newly found interest in art, he tells you to practise since you have plenty of time. His responses are short and specific, not a word more or less from what’s necessary. His eyes make their way to you once in a few minutes and the rest of the time, they’re on his laptop screen. There are so many things you want to talk about, you have so much to share, so much to do. You had plans for tonight, but all he offers you is a short talk. It’s as if you’re not important anymore, as if you’re the third person between him and his drafts, and he’s doing you a favour by not sending you back to your apartment. He’s being distant, it doesn’t surprise you anymore. Half of it is because of his drafts, the other half, his interest. Heeseung is passionate about what he does. Whatever he does, he sacrifices all of him, it’s about catching his interest. You pour yourself another glass, Heeseung asks you a few questions about his work in progress. You realise he’s losing interest in you, little by little. 

You sort of expected yourself to be better after his return, it turns out to be false. You’re still on your living room floor, hands and clothes having stains of reds and blues. You painted the wine bottle from last night. You haven’t got any sleep, the image of Heeseung pops up everytime you close your eyes. It feels like the world is giving you what you had given him long ago— all the pain and insufferable longing, all the reasons that made him believe that he deserved to be abandoned. When you got busy with studies and a job in your last year of university, ignoring Heeseung seemed to be the only way out of your hectic schedules. You had exams, a job to cater too, money was already a problem so you couldn’t afford giving him gifts on all the days they have made for couples. Heeseung used to show up with something new every single day and no matter how pretty it was, a part of you despised him because it made you feel inferior. Leaving Heeseung wasn’t an option, it was your only choice. He was the only thing you had that you could throw away. 

“Can we talk?” Heeseung shows up at your door on a Thursday morning with words that brushed away any traces of sleep in your eyes. It’s eleven, you woke up barely fifteen minutes ago, and you find him at your door; hands empty, no traces of his laptop or notepad. You think you’ve finally become one of his priorities, after all. 

“About what?” 

“Us,” He responded quickly, he came prepared. “I want to talk about us,” And there it is, confrontation knocking at your door. You’ve been waiting for this moment for a while now, for weeks and more, perhaps, and now that it’s in front of you, waiting for you to hold it’s hand and guide it inside, your body freezes under his gaze. It’s a game of push and pull, like a pendulum oscillating between two extremes. You want him to tell someone about you. The thought of you vanishing completely from his world is unbearable. You can’t stand the thought of being a silent tomb in his heart, you don’t want to be an inscription on the first page of his book. You want him to tell the world about you and promise you a forever, but a part of your heart gently reminds you of the impossibility of the kind of love you’re wishing for. It’s not Heeseung who you can’t trust, rather, it’s yourself. You’re scared of your demons. When things get happier, you get anxious because you might ruin it once again. 

“Do you want to come in for coffee?” And here you are again on your couch with mugs and words you’re busy burying inside. The situation feels oddly familiar, your eyes travel to him. There’s a look of dejection in his eyes. 

You join a wellness club a week after, and Heeseung is the first person to know about it. You saw the advertisement when you went to buy fruits two days ago. It didn’t interest you until you walked back home and found yourself in front of your mirror, thinking of what you were and what you’ve become. Your dark circles have grown prominent, your joints ache from the lack of movement. Walks with Heeseung after dinner are the only reason why you wake up everyday and eat your meals. You have your paint brush and wine, you have every reason to not live any longer. If it wasn't for him, you don’t think you would have been breathing at all. You look up the fitness club on Naver, take your time reading through the programmes they’re offering and the pricing. Maybe, this is the change you needed in your life. Not Heeseung, not money, not a job, but some time for yourself. A place to think about yourself and how you are doing, a place to be selfish without being ashamed of it. 

The first few days were nice, you met new people, saw new faces. One new thing in your life, apart from painting. The sessions mainly focus on meditations, you were never the most patient person in the crowd. Some sort of yoga follows before a break, and that is usually the worst part. You would sit on the wooden floor and watch others talk, their laughter and murmurs filling in the hall. It makes you feel like how you used to be in the university— in silence, by yourself. You had conversations with your mind, with your heart. You looked around and saw eyes looking at you. Every second felt like they were talking about you when in reality, the thought of you never crossed their mind. You were no one, despite being popular, it’s ironic, and you hate how the exact same thing started happening in the club. It would have hardly taken you five sessions to give up and get back to your routine of painting, drinking, and sleeping. When Heeseung asked, you excused it as boredom and unsatisfactory. Actually, you have started feeling better ever since Heeseung returned from his impromptu trip. With him next to you most of the day, you feel functional and sane. You feel like you could think again, you decide to get back to cooking your own food instead of ordering take outs or simply sleeping after drinking. You didn’t see the need to attend the wellness classes anymore until a few days before, when they texted about a trip in the groupchat. You tell Heeseung about it, he locks himself in his apartment for the following days to come. 

You don’t know how or why he made that decision. You spend hours everyday thinking about all the probable reasons, only to end up with nothing. After three days of consideration, you land onto the conclusion that you take too much of his time. It makes sense, of course, he’s busy, he’s working, he has a job, even if it’s basically sitting into his room all day and typing. You, on the other hand, don’t have anything. You have your issues that you project onto people, you have problems you try to ignore, you have indecisiveness and can’t decide what you actually want. You spend too much of your time thinking about if onlys and begging God for last chances. Days pass by without him, alcohol becomes your only solace. The voices in your head remind you of the consequences of your actions. They scream about the mistakes you make, laugh at your actions. They recite tales of how you tend to ruin the person you like, how you’re a parasite and Heeseung is a host, and how you feed on his blood to keep yourself alive. You wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, you feel like wanting to scratch off your skin. At times, you want to run to Heeseung and profess your love to him, tell him how much you want him, how much you need him. You have always been aware of your feelings, of what you wanted, but deep down, you’re afraid that you might be a worthless person after all. And now, you are the worthless person who is trapped in their own empty life. 

You want to try living your life as a different person. A life where you’re not you, and all the things you have now aren’t yours, good or bad. An alternate reality where Heeseung isn’t someone you meet at your lowest, where he isn’t just a use and throw to you. You want to go to a place where nobody knows you and live as if you have no history at all, you want to know how it feels to live without having people expect something from you. A life where running away isn’t the only thing you’re good at. You haven’t talked to Heeseung in five days and you're already on the way to his apartment from the supermarket after getting some fruits. Perhaps, you just want to live a life where his presence and absence wouldn’t mean so much to you, where it wouldn’t cost you your life and pride. 

When Heeseung opens his door and invites you inside without asking any questions, you realise he has been expecting you anyway. Heeseung gets back to writing, you’re left alone in silence yet again. You envy Heeseung. As a writer, he has an inclination to step inside someone else’s shoes, to get under their skin and see the world through their eyes. It’s a blessing, you think, to be able to live as a thousand different characters and experience a thousand different emotions, to be able to express them so beautifully in words and actions. If you were him, you’d live as a different person everyday, in a skin that makes you feel comfortable. You could be a pianist pretending to be nervous, or a ballerina with her broken shoes. When Heeseung doesn’t say anything for the next few minutes, you pick up an apple from the grocery bag in your hand and enter his kitchen to grab a peeler. It’s an old tradition between you two, to say things with actions instead of words, to hug each other when sad, to offer fruits when you’re in pain, to sit in silence when you are sorry. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” You say abruptly, letting words fall off your lips without control. Heeseung’s hands stop in the midst of typing, hovering over his laptop. When the sound of keys stops, the air starts feeling emptier and heavier than ever, sending a wave of shiver down your spine. 

“What?” A soft gasp, a voice of disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me any time sooner?” 

“Well, I am telling you now,” 

“The night before you’re leaving,” 

“I would’ve told you sooner if you could take a break from whatever you’re writing,” A pause. You look at him, his shifts ghosts your sight and falls upon the apple in your hand. You’re looking at the document displaying on the screen, your eyes fall back on the fruit in your hand just a few seconds later. You wish for Heeseung to be more open with you, to yearn for you the way you do for him, to want so much that every moment without you feels like death’s hands around his throat. Maybe, he already does, maybe he wants to but couldn’t because the fear of you leaving yet again is eating him from inside. You have given him all the reasons to doubt himself and you as well, every reason to think thrice before knocking your door. Writing is an escape, you know he has his own problems, after all, how many times did someone pick and pen or and paint brush when they couldn’t pull the trigger? 

“When will you return?” He asks, a little unsure of the question, if he should even ask you. 

“One month,” And you respond, peeling the apples between your words. “It’s a paid trip from the wellness club I joined, some sort of detox, so I don’t think we’d get to talk much either,” Your thoughts aren’t sane, they’re all over the place, everywhere. It’s hard to walk, harder to crawl, it feels like you’re standing in a deep pit, the way out is in front of you but you don’t know how to reach up there. Calling it a detox sounds stupid, but you know you need it, it’s for you, for him, and for whatever the two of you are becoming. 

“It’s alright,” Liar. “It’s just one month,” 

Before you know it, you’re in his arms and you’re hugging him back. Perhaps, you missed the embrace, the warmth of loving and being loved. “Just one month,”

“I love you,” He smiles against your ear, arms pulling you closer. You’re stepping into happiness for the first time in months, you’re reminded of its previous betrayal. And you realise that the person you’ve been yearning for is the one you should step away from. 

V. Should you get back with your ex?

It’s been five years since Heeseung has heard from you. He has been waiting, but he doesn’t have time to sit back in his apartment while putting everything aside. He has been keeping himself busy with drafts and publishing, lost amidst plots and characters he created, living in a whole another universe as an escape from reality. It all makes him sound crazy, or rather, like someone who has been through severe grief. But, Heeseung has been busy thinking about all the new genres he can try and every single thing that he can include in his writing because no one can stop him, and his imagination means no bounds. After all, Lee Heeseung, after five years of waiting and working, has finally published his most awaited work. 

Heeseung isn’t used to distances. They drift people apart, as they once did the two of you, but he didn’t mind anything when it came to you. You were going to return within a month either way, and thus, he found solace in texts and calls while waiting for the days to pass. You’d send him pictures of the city while he’d forward you an image file of another blank document. For days, you both texted restlessly, between meetings, during meals, while taking a walk, before and after bed, it was as if you had returned all the way back to how your life was in university. On days you couldn’t make time to call him due to your busy schedule, he would leave voice notes regarding every single thing he has been up to. It was a small step towards forgetting the past since neither of you tried to talk about it. It was more of an attempt at ignoring your past mistakes and moving on, taking a mental note to not repeat them again. While the need to talk things out bugged both of you every night, you were just fine with whatever the two of you had at the moment. 

Things had started off good, but the two of you started hearing less of each other. His busy schedule or your lack of internet could be blamed. You really needed some time to yourself and it seemed to be the perfect excuse to not text him first, or even back. Days morphed into weeks, weeks into months, Heeseung was finished with the first draft for his next book. That was for you but Heeseung, again, isn’t used to distances. You would see his texts on the top of your notification bar, holding onto a fragile ray of hope that he’ll hear from you anytime soon. You’d see his missed calls, voice notes, emails, direct messages on social media, even a letter he sent once. You could feel guilt pool inside of you, realising that once again, you’re being the one to draw a line, to create distance and while you promised that they wouldn’t affect you both this time ‘round, you’re the very reason why they keep on increasing. But, Heeseung is good at these things, hoping, holding, waiting; he’s good at sad things. Perhaps, it’s just another thing he has come to learn because of you. 

When you didn’t contact him for another two months, he started reaching out to your friends and family. He called your friends and his friends, his family, even. It was like he was in a forest with a lantern, looking for treasure, and the flame went out. 

He used to think he could go a day without your presence. Without telling you things and hearing your voice back. Then, a day arrived when he found himself struggling to feel your presence but the next was harder. He knew with a sinking feeling it was going to get worse, and it wasn’t going to be okay for a very long time. 

Losing you wasn’t an occasion or an event. It didn’t happen once and instead, happened over and over again. Heeseung loses you every time he picks up your favourite coffee mug, whenever that one song plays on the radio, when he unconsciously scrolls all the down to the bottom of his messaging app, coming across your contact. He loses you every time he thinks of kissing you, holding you, or wanting you. He goes to bed and loses you, when he wishes he could tell you about his day and everything that he has planned for the future; and in the morning, when he wakes up and reaches for the empty space across the sheets— Heeseung begins to lose you all over again. 

“What inspired you to write this book?” And now, he’s sitting at his book launch event, a faint smile on his face, a good of pride gleaming in his eyes. Through the years, Heeseung has released short stories and poems; poems that he wrote while looking out of his window at every flight that flies by, hoping you’d arrive one day, while sitting outside next to your apartment late at night, while drinking your favourite wine knowing you would’ve had the whole bottle to yourself if you were to join him. Heeseung would sit on the cold tiles of his living room and let his mind paint a picture of you. The image of you in his mind is blurry, but he feels every emotion you gave him to this day. 

“A friend, my neighbour,” His smile grows wider, a little more filled with sorrow, yearing oozing through the cracks of his skin. “My ex-girlfriend,” Calling you his ex doesn’t seem right since the two of you never broke up. You need to be in a relationship to break up, and Heeseung and you weren’t anything. 

His first poetry work, ‘Red Wine,’ was written in the first few weeks after you stopped contacting him. Those were some of Heeseung’s worst days of life, days he felt like doing nothing except lying down and staying still until his systems gave up due to the lack of movement. He has written about you drinking red wine on the floor just like you do, and on the other side it’s him, cold and bleeding. You’re looking at him— he pictures you as such, and you continue to sip on your wine, watching him bleed. Is there a possibility of you and I? Heeseung wouldn’t know, for you enjoyed your red wine while his blood pooled around your legs, and you wouldn’t flinch because you wouldn’t know if it’s blood or wine unless you taste it, and you wouldn’t know if he’s hurting for you’re too busy dwelling in your own mind.   

“Did you get back with her? Is that why the book is named ‘How to get back with your ex’?” Heeseung thinks the question is rhetoric. Anyone can tell if he and you are together or not after reading the book. Few seconds pass in silence, it’s not the question he’s running from, but the answer that lies around. Heeseung doesn’t know if there was ever a point when you considered taking him back into your life with labels, just as how it used to be back in university. You waited for him at odd hours but never admitted to missing him. He confessed, you never gave an answer, but you kissed him as if he was a part of you that went missing centuries ago. Your touch bled with yearning, love rolled down your cheeks, and you never accepted your feelings. You’re not his lover, he likes to keep you as his favourite incomplete fish. 

“No, actually, we’re not in touch anymore,” Heeseung isn’t familiar with loss. He doesn't have a lot to offer, not at all. Lee Heeseung, in fact, doesn't have anything to give or lose, his hands are empty. He has a mediocre job that he resigned from over a mediocre reason, and a mediocre life, a mediocre apartment with some mediocre flowers in the mediocre vase a friend gave him as a congratulatory gift on graduation day. He has the same mediocre thoughts and books, tropes and genres, no new thought in a while; Heeseung, actually, has more to accept than to lose. 

To think, he has always been on the receiving end of life. 

The first month was the hardest. He started hearing less of you, and then none. Losing you, it was like experiencing withdrawal symptoms. Heeseung would pace around, hours on empty, looking obsessively at his phone to catch a hint of you, just one text, one missed call, anything. His editor continued to call him, even show up at his place, telling him to write, to do his job, but words don’t flow when you’re not around, and the thought of you pains his heart inexplicably. He knows he’s always talking about second chances, how there is always a second shot at things that slipped out of your hands. The day you cut off all contact with him, Heeseung realised that it was probably his last chance with you. He cried the first time the news of Bus M4107 crash on its way back to Incheon. He ran back to his apartment, avoiding getting hit by a lorry only by a few minutes, vision getting blurry as his mind started coming up with all the worst scenarios possible. Heeseung went through all his contacts, looking for names familiar to the two of you and begged them to try to get in touch with you. He spent hours looking at his phone, his eyes were like a searchlight. How they looked at the sky with such longing, how they always turned towards the door hoping you’d walk in any moment. Heeseung doesn’t care if you’re with him, he doesn’t mind seeing you across the street while pretending to be strangers. He doesn’t mind not being able to hold you. Even after all these years, even when he’s Korea’s bestselling author, even when he has everything he has ever dreamt for, his life has voids that remind him of you, but it’s fine. Things were fine, you left him one Sunday morning with his cup half empty. It was supposed to be just a month, but five years later, Heeseung pads around his apartment following your presence that still lingers around. Outside, the rain is already falling, there are still pieces of you behind every door, he can live just fine. He can live knowing you’re here, in this world with him, amidst the eight billion people. It’s better than accepting the fact that you’ve left him alone, forever. 

Fifth month was a little easier, Heeseung published his first short story. He was doing good, and had work to stop himself from thinking of you. Friends and family kept him busy, book signing events occupied most of his days. You didn’t leave his mind, you just started residing less. He thought of it as a routine— every morning, you’d leave his mind as his schedules began. He pictures you floating over the city, over the busy markets and sublime lakesides. You visit sometime in between, when he’s resting on his bed or enjoying his tea. You walk back in and tell him about everything you’ve seen. You talk about the balloons stuck in the tree, about the girl running behind her school bus, and then you leave again and he sits to write. You walk down the streets through the sunset, the fragrance of sea-food spinning in the air. There’s a couple on their first date, a group of friends taking pictures outside a hotpot restaurant, a wife waiting for her husband, a mother picking up her son, a family going shopping, and then you’d come back right before he’s going to bed. You’d tell Heeseung about them, your voice ringing in his ears. You kiss him goodnight, he goes to sleep, your thoughts are like a lullaby. And the next morning, the cycle repeats again.

Around the twelfth month, Heeseung found himself at his lowest. It had been a year since you left, a year since you disappeared off the face of earth with no trace of you even after investigation. The case was closed, Heeseung felt the ghost of you leaving his mind bit by bit. Your empty apartment had been sold off to a woman in her forties, he didn’t like the idea of someone else occupying the place that had once belonged to you. In his mind, you still live there, and you still spend your days lying on the living room floor with wine. The renovation began soon after, Heeseung found himself standing in the living room of your apartment. With every inch of wall painted, the absence of you caved in on him closer. Every inch of brush stroke on the wall covered the evidence of your existence, painting white over the pieces of you that you left behind the closed doors. It felt like a sign to move on, as if the world was forgetting you and so, Heeseung was supposed to do the same. It boils his blood to this day, his heart aches inexplicably. The universe knows you as someone who disappeared off the face of Earth, it doesn’t know you like Heeseung does. It doesn’t know the impact you have on his life, it’s unaware of the little things you did that changed his view about things. People are moving on, the media forgot about all the people who died in the accident. He doesn’t understand how everyone continued with their lives as if nothing ever happened. Twelfth month was the hardest for Heeseung. Disappearing memories of you from his mind froze his mind, he wanted to die, if it meant he could see you again. 

You see, getting back your ex isn’t always about the romantic feelings you had for each other. You can be friends with your ex, or neighbours, co-workers, and it would still mean you got back with them, because getting back together means putting the past behind and working together to help each other become a better version of themselves. Isn’t that what we do even when we start dating our exes; being better than how you were with them in the past, not repeating the mistakes that drifted you apart in the first place? Heeseung doesn’t mind getting back with you even if you’re a stranger he sees at the supermarket. It’s fine even if you’re someone he sees once a week at the subway. If there is even a little chance that you’re here, Heeseung is okay living with just a glimpse of you. He has waited five years, he will wait for fifty more. 

“Do you still love her?” A journalist raises the question, and Heeseung could ask himself the same thing over and over again, always ending up with the same answer: he doesn’t know. Saying that he does would be an overstatement because Heeseung doesn’t know where his heart lies, and denying it would be a blatant lie. So, instead, he likes to think of you as just someone who came into his life and lost her way out of it. 

Just someone who he met one night by the bar, someone he warmed up to so quickly that every single neuron in his body went off with alarms, alerting him of all the possible consequences about how this would take a tragic turn. It happened like this : he met you, and for some reason, he felt more connected to a stranger than anyone else— closer to you than his closest family. Someone who taught him what loneliness is because before you, Heeseung was used to doing things alone, on his own. Someone who made him rethink every life decision, someone who, he knew, would turn his life upside down, and still he let you do it. You were someone he spent his happiest days crying about and saddest moments reminiscing over. Heeseung gave you love, and in return, you gave him an insight on life, an important lesson, and an answer to all his whys and hows. Your love was soft and tacit with all hands and lips and hearts in tandem. It was like a storm and he was walking into it straight. Heeseung is an explorer, you were a traveller. You both met at the intersection, the lights went red, the world stopped for a brief second. He saw love in your smile, he wishes he could see more of it. But you had a plane to catch and Heeseung, he was already home. 

Dedicated to my ex-girlfriend, the one I didn’t expect to meet after years of trying to move on, one who left and came back as if nothing ever happened and turned my life upside down. I think it was obvious that this was about you anyway. I hope you are happy, wherever you are. I hope you’re still here. Thank you for being someone I could rely upon, for being my muse, for being my one and only love. 

—

Thank you for reading, ‘How to get back with your ex’.

[pathologicalreid]

Girlie (gn) you hate Maeve? You have good taste I see, I fucking hated her (well strongly disliked but still) mary sue is such a perfect term, she was just boring and I feel Spencer felt so wet and weepy with her

i don't hate maeve so much as i hate the maeve plotline! i think strongly dislike is a really good phrase to use when talking about my feelings towards maeve's character.

as a character, she's super flat and one dimensional. i think she and spencer were "together" for eight months(?) and the episode where you learn the most about her is the one where she fucking dies. i've spent all day thinking about this and im beginning to think that part of the reason why she is a mary sue is that spencer tends to put people he cares about on pedestals and ignores their flaws.

and youre like "what flaws does she have if you barely know anything about her" and okay i'll tell you:

b-12 and magnesium as a treatment for migraines is fucking insane. i'm not saying it couldn't work, but all through season 6 (re: 6x12 "corazon") spencer is seeing doctors and anyone who has ever dealt with a fuckass chronic disease/illness will tell you that a blood panel like that would be one of the first steps in reaching a diagnosis!!!

why on god's green earth would you have a stalker, be dating an fbi agent, and not let your fbi agent boyfriend help you? i have been stalked before!!!! it's not fun!!!!! i'd take all the help i could've gotten at the time. this has always rubbed me the wrong way because oh my god the solution was right there the whole time. he could have protected you! he would have protected you!

i know they weren't technically doctor/patient but there is still some weird power dynamic in their relationship that gives me the ick. other than they're smart and they read, they really dont have much in common.

their relationship to me is equivalent to the girl i dated online after we met through percy jackson fan accounts. i.e. not really a relationship. most of their interaction was off screen and i think that did a huge detriment to the plot.

in the end, i think the maeve storyline and 8x12 "zugzwang" is a hard watch. i can't take it seriously. i'd skip it, but then i'd miss so much blake content (and hotch looks so good in that episode sorry spencer) (not into the fuckass bob in season 8). at the same time, i know it was like... mgg's idea and i'm pretty sure he's friends with beth riesgraf. (he loves to traumatize himself idk). but the whole thing gets messier when you think about the implications left by 14x15 "truth or dare" and the abhorrent jeid plot in season 15 where it's insinuated that spencer has been in love with jj for fifteen years (zoinks) and it's like what about maeve??? i don't know man (gn) i could go on for hours about this

that being said, i see a lot of people not liking the actress who plays maeve. i am telling you that it had to have been the writing or the directing in the episodes because beth riesgraf is incredible. she played a character named parker in the tv show leverage (one of my favorite tv shows of all time) and let me tell you That Is Her Role.

jesus this was long i had more to say than i thought sorry thank you anon

[withloveoptimus]

Ask by @musicalmedli : How about a human he secretly likes doing something that unknowingly means bettothal in Cybertronian culture and it freaks her out. can be sfw or nsfw, your choice.

had some difficulties posting this the first time and unfortunately lost the ask but here it is now !

i had lots of fun writing this and i hope y'all enjoy !

TFP Optimus x Female reader

Summary: Reader accidentally proposes to Optimus and, after a quick talk with Ratchet, she promptly freaks out.

Warnings: none

sfw , fluff , misunderstanding , miscommunication , pre relationship , cultural differences

Optimus had begun to act weird around you, and you weren't entirely sure why. He was more affectionate with you, whether it was simply holding you in his palm or sending you smiles that he wouldn't share with anyone else. It made you swoon, of course, but also a little curious.

Wanting to return said affection, you bought him a gift with the bit of money you scavenged together. You'd gotten him a few books from the local bookstore that the two of you frequented. It was a cute little store and the lady that owned it was so sweet, she happily indulged Optimus' curiosity whenever they were there.

Although you didn't have to, you wrote him a little note as well, writing the kind little thoughts down and thanking him.

When you'd presented the gifts to Optimus, he was happy. His face brightened up like when you present a kid with candy, and you fought the impulsive thought to kiss him.

He promptly thanked you with a warm smile on his face.

That's when things began to spiral.

Optimus' affections were much more frequent and whenever he would speak to you, whether it was in the comfort of your house (he liked to help around and use his holoform even though you insist he doesn't need to) or when you're out for patrol, his tone is fond and warm. That's not unusual for him to do but it felt odd. It's like those few moments when you're talking to a crush or lover.

That thought made your face hot and you quickly tossed it away. That wasn't it; there was no way he would talk to you in that way.

When you bring it up to Ratchet, Optimus' closest friend, he has an unreadable look on his face before swiftly recovering.

"Do you know about Conjunx Endureas or Conjunx Ritus?" The medic asks you, looking uncomfortably serious.

The lost look on your face was enough of an answer and he ex-vents. According to Cybertronian culture, you learn that you had accidentally proposed to Optimus fucking Prime.

What a shocker.

You promptly left before Ratchet could tell you anymore, deciding to head home for the day and process the information. One day of being home turned into an entire week. You avoided going to the base like the plague, only answering texts from the kids while ignoring Optimus' worried texts and calls.

You were a full-grown adult, yet here you were, doing what you only saw in those cliche romance movies you watched when you were bored. It was wrong and totally stupid, but you could care less.

You loved the Autobot leader, that was a fact, and the simple implication that those feelings would be returned made your heart beat faster. Marriage, though, was a huge step to take and you two weren't even dating yet!

A conversation would need to be had eventually but for now, you'd rather process everything at a distance.

One day, upon returning from work, you see Optimus' alt mode parked in your driveway and dread pulls in your stomach. You knew it was coming but you just weren't prepared.

Hesitantly, you enter your house and find Optimus' holoform in your living room, sitting patiently on the couch. He had a serious look on his face, and it made you want to curl into a ball. Before you're able to say anything, he stands and walks over to you.

You gulp, biting your lip, as he stops just a short distance from you.

He tilts his head down and you realize that the serious look he had was actually... shame?

"I... I apologize, it seems that I misunderstood the intentions behind your gift." He speaks and his gaze suddenly elsewhere. There's a hint of embarrassment in his tone. "I hadn't meant to make you uncomfortable in any way."

The note; he was talking about the note.

"Oh, Optimus, I-" You start but he cuts you off.

"If you wish to stop talking to me, I understand." Then he goes, rambling about you and his feelings, all the while you try to stop him because you don't want to stop talking to him or anything of the sort. The conversations you two have are the highlights of your day and you love just being around him. You don't get the chance to do so because he just won't stop talking.

So, you went on your tippy toes and shut him up the only way you knew how.

The kiss is sweet and, a little awkward, as you hadn’t kissed anybody before. Optimus stood stock still for a few moments, eyes wide as he processes what exactly was happening. Then, his hands are on your hips and he’s reciprocating the kiss. A warmth spreads throughout your body and your mind becomes hazy, any thought passing through your mind were only of him as he surrounds you. You press yourself closer, savoring every second that passes.

When your lungs finally begin to demand oxygen, you pull away with a breathless gasp.

“So,” you murmured, “we obviously need to have a conversation.”

Optimus huffs, amused, “We do.”

A few beats of silence pass and you’re able to properly breathe.

“Where shall we start, then?” Optimus inquires, tracing his fingers along your hips.

“We’ll start slow, like dating slow.”

“Understood.” He smiles, warm and affectionate, “May I take you out for dinner?”

Your cheeks flush and you bite your lip, “Of course.” Everything he does is making you swoon and it’s the best feeling in the world. Just what did you do to get someone like him?

He ghosts his lips along yours, “May I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You whisper, allowing him to kiss you breathlessly.

[mot-hesbian]

Au idea

Remember the episode where Kagami got akumatized the second time in season 5 and Gabriel and Tomoe overheard her and Adrien talking.

What if instead of that, the idea of arranged relationships came up before they left the room where they were having their meeting talking about the Diamond Ball. Kagami and Adrien go to talk to their parents about visiting Marinette and accidentally overheard this topic, but it's not the idea of them dating that freaks them out?

Tomoe mentioned to Gabriel before they got there that while a relationship between Adrien and Kagami could be beneficial to them, she had another suitor in mind for Kagami and was trying to figure out which would be more beneficial/have better long-term consequences.

When Gabriel gets upset and asks who it is he gets even more upset because it was the other suitor he was thinking of for Adrien.

This suitor was no other than Marinette Dupain Cheng.

So, Kagami and Adrien walk into a whole argument about who Marinette would be a better partner for, who gets dibs on her.

Tomoe has an idea and is like, well, "polyamory runs in your family....and Paris has become more accepting...a throuple could be seen as very progressive and we'd benefit on all sides".

Gabriel wants to know what in the ever loving fuck she's talking about, and how she knows what a damn throuple is, and she mentions him, Emilie, and Nathalie.

Gabriel gets all confused and defensive because they weren't together (he's extra defensive about the implication that he could have feelings for anyone but Emilie), and Tomoe makes a comment about how she doesn't need to see to see that steaming pile of bullshitery. As well as the fact that there is no heterosexual explanation for the way Emilie and Nathalie would act around each other.

Obviously, Nathalie was a major part of their marriage.

Gabriel's having a whole crisis, Tomoe can't believe that he's not only blinded than her but is also even more idiotic than she thought, Adrien just wants to know what's going on, and Kagami is filming so she can show their friends to prove that their parents' are, in fact, as wild as they've both told them.

TLDR: Gabriel and Tomoe both want their children to date Marinette. Tomoe decides that a throuple could work. Gabriel wants to know how she knows what that is. Sangreste is obvious to everyone that isn't Gabriel. Adrien and Kagami are just watching this fight go down.

[i-am-church-the-cat]

i am so full of emotions about that soulmate piece. it is just so perfect. the idea of oscar and logan being platnoic soulmates but oscar *chooses* lily. and the implications. poor sweet lily sad and alone because she has no letters over her heart. only to have oscar choose her, fall in love with her, want to be with her, even though the letters over his heart say LS and not LZ. in a way, truer soulmates. i am all weepy sobby about this. i love it so so much. i love your brain. pls share more

this interpretation got me clutching my fucking chest, so in honor of that, a drabble for your perusal

--

25% of the world's population was born without a soulmark. A kid with non-soulmate parents was likely to be part of that 25%. Lily Zneimer is part of that 25%.

It never bothered her until secondary school, when everyone started talking about marrying their soulmates and finding their "true love". No one knew that Lily didn't have a soulmark but she knows what they'd say if they did. That she wasn't meant to be loved like that. That there was no one else on the entire planet that would fit just right with her.

That's not what she believed. Her friends who had already had soulmates said it felt like they had been incomplete, but Lily was already complete. She didn't need another half to a whole because she was already whole.

When Oscar asked her out for the first time, she assumed he either hadn't met his soulmate yet or was soulmark-less, like her. She agreed because he was cute and funny and sincere. She got tired of trying to figure out what people were thinking but Oscar always told her.

She didn't feel completed by Oscar because she was already complete by herself. But her day was always better when Oscar was in it.

They weren't soulmates. Their lives didn't automatically fit together. They made each other fit because it's what they wanted. Oscar fit himself to her and Lily fit herself to him.

When she first met Logan, she wouldn't have know they were soulmates if she didn't know Oscar so well already. Oscar talked about Logan like he was any other friend. But when they were together, they moved around each other in sync. Oscar was already passing the salt before Logan had even asked, Logan had known exactly what Oscar was planning to order. They didn't quite finish each other's sentences but they spoke in half-words and unfinished thoughts sometimes, not realizing Lily couldn't understand them.

They never excluded Lily or made her feel like the outside looking in. But if Lily and Oscar were the Earth and the Moon, a symbiotic relationship that happened to find each other, Oscar and Logan were twin stars, born of the same cosmic dust.

When Oscar had walked her home, she asked about it.

"I had just assumed that you didn't have a soulmate," she said, not meeting his eye. She knew he'd be able to see all the fear and uncertainty on her face if she did. "But it's Logan isn't it?"

She could feel when Oscar's gaze fell away from her face and she glanced over to see him nod.

"We met at a karting event in 2015," he said, which Lily had already known. "I thought it was weird that the initials on my chest matched his name but it had happened before. But then he told me straight away that my initials were on his chest. And that was that."

Lily was shocked. Most people met their soulmate as adults, some never met them, but Oscar and Logan had met at 14 after being born across the world from each other. Fate had clearly had plans for them.

"Then why aren't you two, you know, together?" She asked, sounding completely bewildered. Even though she didn't subscribe to the view that soulmates were the most important thing in the world, it was just common knowledge that 70% of marriages were between soulmate pairs, either by choice or by force.

Oscar shrugged. "We never felt that way about each other. We met before everyone started talking about dating and soulmates so all we knew is that we were supposed to know each other. He's my best friend but I don't feel any desire to date him."

"And what about Logan?" She asks, still not believing they could just never give it a chance. "Does he feel the same way?"

Oscar does something then that truly surprises her. He laughs. Like full-bodied, caught-off-guard chuckles.

"Logan isn't- well, I'll let him tell you if he wants, but I can promise that Logan doesn't feel attracted to me either. To anyone, really."

That statement was confusing for a few different reasons but it sounded like if she wanted more information, she'd have to ask Logan. They continue to walk in silence for a while before she brings up what she actually wants to talk about.

"Why date me then?"

Oscar stopped and turned to her, forcing her to do the same. He's not smiling anymore but his expression isn't less kind or sincere.

"I asked you out because I like you, Lily. You're smart and beautiful and nice. I'll never date my soulmate which means I'm free to date whoever I want. And who I want is you."

Oscar barely finishes his last few words before Lily is reaching up to hug him. They stand there in the street for a while, just holding each other, Lily basking in the feeling of truly being chosen, maybe for the first time in her life.

"I want you, too, Oscar. Even if I don't have your initials on me."

[scentedpepper]

Okok so I have this request that's technically lip x m!reader x Ian where lip and reader are in a relationship but Ian has had a crush on reader since he started hanging out with lip. And once they officially started dating, Ian was pretty much heart broken about it but reader is oblivious to it so they stay friends. Until the relationship starts to get rocky with them arguing all the time (as canon lip high key sucks at being in relationships) and it eventually leads to Ian comforting reader after a dramatic fight with lip and Ian confesses and maybe they kiss 🫶

Bar Fights and Candle Light

IAN GALLAGHER X MALE READER

Summary: You're flawed, but Ian will scream he loves you for it until he's blue in the face.

Content Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, reader has been cheated on, impulsiveness, poor attachment styles, sexual implications

Other Pairings: Lip Gallager x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Hey Anon I'm ngl it's 4:30 in the morning rn

Much to my misfortune, I woke from my sleep at 2am and had an unbearable urge to finish this so lucky for you 🫶

This starting to look a little like a twilight scene..

Anyway, usual shameless stuff, lip is lip, reader is flawed to a determinate blah blah blah

Hope you enjoy 😛

---------------------------------------------------

Lip Gallagher held the kind of charm that reminded you of drunk bar fights and somehow, simultaneously, roses. The kind of trouble that ends with an eyebrow raise and the kind of kindness that gets you on your knees.

As much as you loved him, the man really had no sense of what loyalty was and instead seemed to revert to breaking the hearts of every girl he had ever slept with.

You knew such things well and your ogling from a distance soon became a thorne in your side that you wished to diminish.

You met Lip when he accidentally stumbled upon a gay pride rally. How he'd got there? You weren't entirely sure of those facts even now.

Four months after you'd befriended him and simultaneously, his red-headed brother, when you'd lost your dignity and, later, your boyfriend, Lip had looked at you with, if not genuine empathy, then interest.

"I know what will make you feel better. " He had urged, and you had just rolled your eyes and pressed your face further into the warm pillow.

You had just been cheated on, and nothing Lip could say would be as appealing as lying in the rundown springs of your mattress to inevitably– sink in with them.

However, the things he could do was a different story.

When you, in a half drunken state amongst the alibi a few days later, admitted to what had occurred in your bed the same night your boyfriend dumped you for a woman, of all people, Ian was –for some reason– under the assumption you would've rejected Lip's idea in entirety.

"Wait, " he laughed, his finger prodding the side of your ribcage until you were squirming with a wince, "you–really?"

And he could not believe his ears when you told him the truth of it.

Ian learned two things that night.

One, his brother had more flavoring within him than he otherwise assumed.

And two, no matter how much he tried to shove his affections for you, they only seemed to grow stronger.

Into the next months, however, where it was not entirely shocking, but rather, indescribably insufferable to Ian, you entered a very hot and heavy romance with a rather short and bitter soon-to-be-ending with his brother.

He was doomed.

He knew it from the moment the blush touched your cheeks and not your ears when you spoke of Lip.

And every second of it felt like searing hot daggers plunged and twisted into his stomach.

Ian wanted to resent you but everything you did, be it picking apart the little lies around his brother or, right down to the way your brow pinched in concentration when you played UNO, had Ian just adoring you more.

It was probably unhealthy how quickly he had fallen and you should've noticed the intensity of his stare.

But, nevertheless, your sight was akin to that of a bat.

And Ian cursed you for it.

What he also cursed you for was not understanding his pain.

Falling for the wrong person.

Sure, Lip was charming and deceptively gorgeous but he was as cold and disfigured as a snowman that seemed to melt no matter where he went.

Oh, and how you were the sun that shined down on him.

"You're just-! Fucking-!"

"What, Lip!? I'm fucking what!?"

The unsavory sound of the two of you came to Ian's ears on a Saturday morning.

Like a dog who's been kicked around, Ian reluctantly walks up the stairs with a heavy sigh and a headache already blooming within his skull.

Knowing you and his brother, he braces himself for the worst with a wince.

"For fucks sake!" Lips' voice pitches to an all time high when Ian removes the physical barrier of wood between he and the two of you, the first thing he sees being the redness of his brother's neck, and then the vein popping from it as he yells at you. "You're a real piece of work you know? Fucking selfish. "

"Oh–I'm selfish?"

Ah, and your voice, laced with salt and hurt, such a strange contrast from what he swore to be giggling 5 minutes ago.

"Lip.." he begins to warn, though if anyone catches the genuine concern within him, no one seems to bother notice.

"You are so fucking unbelievable, Lip! You realize what a fucking wreck you are, don't you?”

Ian's head spins with a stutter of thoughts.

He doesn't have the fortitude to beg this to stop nor the confidence to storm away.

His only options, and the ones he decided were best, was to wait until the dust cleared–the chances of things growing civil between the two of you was extremely high, when not fighting, you were an absolute sweetheart, however much you looked tough to be –but never once did Ian try to stop the arguments.

Because inside of him, the part that is far too gone for you, was vindictive and wickedly happy with the idea that you were growing discontented with his brother.

He knew –while guilty over the idea– it wouldn't make you easier to have.

"Youre too fucking clingy, Y/N! I can't breathe around you! I can't even stand to look at you sometimes, fuck!”

The pure, toxic rage spews forth from Lip's lips and Ian winces at the harshness of it.

He hated to see people yell like that.

You, however, were unrelenting as you shouted, like an echo through the house, the vicious noise came to him again.

And as you moved in pace, fists tight and feet steaming for the friction with the floor, Ian was in a comatose-like state and had no trouble tracking the beautiful anger you expelled.

"You fucking asshole!"

You started with a shove that sent Lip halfway across the room. There were tears springing from your eyes and the water glistened like stars.

When you shoved Lip again, his back hit the wall and while not very strong, was still heavy enough to make an ungodly thump.

Lip grabbed your forearms with a fierceness sure to burn through your bones, though everything within him was shattered, down, down, to the core of his heart.

Yet, all he could do was continue to yell obscenities right back into your face.

That is, until Ian had had enough.

The redhead stepped forward and finally yelled your name, much louder than he usually did.

Which was a bit horrifying and nerve-racking and every negative synonym to such an event.

He had to force himself in between the two of you to push you apart and without thinking, his palm smacked you square on the chest in an attempt to set you aside and there was barely a beat in between your hit to the floor and Lip's hands thrown around his shoulders.

"What the fuck is your problem, man?!" His elder brother seethes and Ian doesn't flinch.

"My problem?" He grinds and before Lip can let the flame singe him more, Ian shoves him off of him like it's nothing. "My fucking problem is the two of you. You can't keep yelling at each other like this, jesus. Grow the fuck up. "

If he hadn't seen the shame fill the space of where you both were only minutes ago, he might not have expected you to hang your head and break out crying.

"Oh, for fucks sake. " Was the exclamation of exasperation Lip gave to you, sighing angrily at the sight of you sobbing.

It made you cry harder, feeling betrayed by even his outburst.

Ian thought his lungs might explode.

"Hey-" Lip tried but when his hand came near you you were quick to smack it away.

Lip had made an attempt to further his explanation but you promptly cut him off with an ear shattering yell.

"Get out! Get the fuck out! I don't want to see you again you fucking piece of shit!"

The fiery look in his dark eyes contrasted awfully to your words of pure, burning red.

Hurt, is what he showed.

Broken, is what he felt.

"Fine. " He dared and your nostrils flared.

The door slammed shut not long after he finished, the sound leaving your eardrums ringing and your mind racing, filled to the brim with all the hatred you could possibly have for a single man.

The last emotion you thought you would have to battle, however, was empathy.

It was quiet.

With the tears still leaking from your face, your palms lifted to press against the spaces of your sockets and you hiccuped pathetically to no one.

No one except Ian who had slowly, after the initial shock had worn off, carefully inched his way across the floor towards you.

Right now, Ian held the kind of charm that reminds you of drunks that carry with them the very essence of a candle lit room and some kind of naiveté that was hard to put a finger on.

The kind of trouble that ends with the tightening of sheets and the kind of kindness that just breaks the dams.

He, unbeknownst to your knowledge, had learned how to treat you for a long time now.

He saw the way the plump of you lips tightened when Lip didn't make it home on time and didn't send word, the way the skin around you eyes grew darker when not sleeping in the same bed and the twitching of your hips when kissed anywhere less than suitable for a child.

From the comfort you sought within yourself and within your friends, to the tears shed all alone in your bathroom, Ian became quite versed in everything that made you, you.

"Hey, " the word comes out as soft as his heart feels and you don't move to acknowledge his presence. The sudden relief that sits beneath your skin has him gaping open with an ache pulling at his heart. "Hey, what did he say?"

You shake, maybe not violently, but enough for Ian's hands to move like magnets toward you.

They rest on the sides of your legs at first because that's where you're tucked, hiding and deserted. All alone in your cave as you try to collect the shattering pieces but all you feel is shame.

When Ian attempts to gather you closer, you fall apart and so he comes together.

"I'm sorry he's such an asshole. " He breathes into the side of your hair, rubbing his thumb along your back.

"He–" You hiccup, your body rising and falling again and again before you could get the sentence out. "He said he wasn't attracted to me. "

Ian thought he should vomit.

Or rip Lips cock clean from his body.

"He lied. " Ian insists and he wonders where that came from but when you sigh it's to shift and press your head down the top of his shoulder. His fingers run along the bones of your spine as he ponders for a moment.

"You're fucking hot, Y/N. " Is the next thing he says, hoping to encourage the confidence, but what takes over Ian when he sees the blush form so fast on your neck, is the absolute need to impress you with his tongue.

"Yeah?" Your tone isn't flirty or surprised, rather, exhausted, in need of someone who's not belittling you.

It's everything Ian is and feels.

You laugh softly next, but it feels sarcastic and cynical.

"Everyones attracted to you. " He tells you then and lets the gentle thumping of his chest bring you to solace. "Even me. "

His statement gives the impression of an abnormality.

Your heartbeat halts its rapid state and Ian tries not to flush when the thought of an engagement or invite forms illustrate inside his head; all from an accidental confession.

You, none the wiser, have the audacity to open your eyes and look up at him from beneath your lashes.

When you see him, he seems as though he himself is an extension of a person made of every emotion there is that you haven't learnt how to properly decipher, yet somehow, you felt connected to him for it.

"You're nice. " You say it like there's a small child in front of you, too young to understand you, too old not to want to speak to you.

Your voice is small and the sound it makes is akin to that of a mouse.

While it amazes Ian and has a great hold on his heart, he also knows you've only used the simplest way to describe his softness.

He stares back at you, frozen in a way he can't describe, his heart hammering like he's been told to run a mile and been given nothing but the anticipation of knowing it was, in fact, coming.

When he cups your jaw, the gesture is out of place for two friends, certainly, though your eyes close, serene.

You did not take his statement to heart.

But he meant it with all of his.

As usual, Ian was drowning.

Into another night of contemplating the intricacies of his next move and of the next possible one itself.

Because, without context, it appeared his brother had left him with his ex, sitting alone together, and would probably be fucking the living daylights out of any girl he could get a grasp on.

Lip had a poor source of regulating his emotions.

But so did you.

However, more than just the want to steal you away as his own, Ian felt the need to help you.

The kind of want that hurts like starvation.

‘You okay?’

Was the thing you'd often say to Ian before slipping into bed beside Lip and watching him slink from room to room.

Back and forth in a weird paranoia and an annoying kind of behavior that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Every time you asked, however, he was adamant on not opening his mouth for anything but a yes.

And you stared at him strangely, the same way you were now.

Again, Ian's lips parted for just one word.

"What?" He asked with a sort of soft laugh that felt like you were a leaf spinning gracefully in the wind across a green, fruitful park.

"You're sort of beautiful. " You told him, without 2nd thought, and Ian jolted.

"Ha. " He laughed –or at least breathed it in a laughing manner, if the strain against his lungs was of any significance– and the warmth was instant.

"Thanks.."

Ian knew.

And you were unaware, but you knew, too.

"He doesn't deserve you, Y/N. "

With every inch of his body aching to scream a declaration, what it resulted in instead was a calm sincerity with an earnest kind of gleam in his eye.

"I know. " You spoke it as a whisper, like it was forbidden and someone would have your head for it. But Ian's reassurance is enough to allow your shoulders to slump as they give out under the weight of the world.

Like Atlas, who caved at the sight of eternity, you feel it too.

Feels as though he were holding up, not the moon, not the stars, not the sun, not the planets, not the earth.

But you.

"Ian. " You said it, ghostly.

A call, something dark and heavy inside of you, the kind of dense which reminds you of death, rising and falling, beckoning you in a way that could only end poorly for yourself and any other life you might choose to cherish.

"Yes.." Ian acknowledged, more a breath against your skin than actual words from his heart.

"Kiss me. "

You didn't allow him the patience for one extra second.

Reaching up, you captured Ians lips with a simple tilt of his head, kissing him like it was the last time you ever would.

There was an odd feeling resonating within you.

One that said, this will most definitely not end well, it was the kind of thing you never seemed to listen to, even before, with the way you treated life like it were the ocean and you were trying to find Atlantis.

Like that, Ian became the kind of addict you held.

It started with the gentle way he kissed, his hands running small tracks down the curve of your cheeks and even smaller ones down the line of your jaw.

"What is this?" He managed to whisper between his lips that began to overtake yours, the glide smooth and succulent.

You don't know the words to respond.

Ian is no fool.

But for you, he resigns the right to be.

And he's kissing you like you're made of sugar and honey and he's been starving in a desert for days. The craving is hard to sate when it's been long fulfilled, the love never gone, the want and desire still constant.

How can this be so wrong? You can't even register the thought because it feels so delicious.

Maybe when one door closes, another opens, but neither was meant to be swung with a latch.

Maybe this is wrong; his conscience tugs, but he doesn't care.

You both ascend, but it's pure teenage stupidity that you enter this together, a high reaching just below the clouds, and you couldn't see past his eyes.

Couldn't see further than the feelings and the affections he gives you; that Lip had somehow left so much that Ian could easily fill up the vacancy.

Fill it so well that, this, all of this, is alright.

Just for now.

[with-love-from-hell]

Neverending Nights

written for Gn!Mc (you/yours)

genre: hurt/comfort

pairing: Mammon x MC (can be seen as platonic/friendship)

Cw: depression implication, self-loathing, FOMO, rejection sensitivity, reader is gn but coded as shorter than Mammon.

"I sincerely apologize, Mc, but I will have to postpone our date tonight." Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temple. "Diavolo urgently needs me at the castle to review RAD's cost analyses and approve a budget for next quarter- especially considering the cost for repairs has been much more significant this quarter."

"That's ok." You mumble mournfully. "I understand."

Lucifer winces, feeling the disappointment glaring through in your tone of voice. "I do hope you know I will be making this up to you ten fold when I have the opportunity, Mc."

You smile weakly before wishing him luck at his meeting and returning to your room. It didn't hurt- at least, not at first. Lucifer was always busy- it couldn't be helped, after all. Besides, he always made due on his promise to reschedule your quality time together- all the brothers did. They valued your time...right?

"Sorry Mc, I'm at a photoshoot with Devilstyle right now! Talk later, mmkay? <3"

"I'm at a banquet to honor one of my close associates. Maybe tomorrow?"

"MC! I'm currently in line at the music shop on Dogma Street! Surce Frenzy is here signing autographs. Can you believe it?! The line is so long though...I probably wont be back until morning LOL!"

"Fangol practice is running late. I won't be home for awhile..."

"Too...tired..."

Tears begin to well up behind your eyes. Even your friends at Purgatory Hall were all out together at a movie without even thinking to invite you... The breaking point, though, was the fact that Mammon didn't bother to respond to your texts at all.

Your stomach feels heavy as you set your phone to the side. Every rejection from your found family replayed in your head on a loop. Part of you was sure it was a coincidence that they all happened to be too busy for you right now, and that this is just what happens from time to time. Another part of you, though, was reminded of all the other times you were cast aside, ignored, forgotten, and rejected by others.

Your kind weren't exactly cruel to you, but there was a sense of belonging shared amongst humans that you just didn't really feel with very many of them. And part of you was convinced that they felt it too, which is why you often felt left out of...well...everything during your time there, and why the Devildom, and the friends you made here, had felt so much more like home to you.

But now, here you lay- curled into yourself in the corner of your bed. The same hurt from back then worming its way from your stomach, to your heart, and up through your throat. Your entire body felt tight and tense; the only catharsis it allowed was from the shuddered breaths and muffled cries that escaped your lips. Darkness shrouded your vision, not even the light from your phone was enough to permeate it. The blanket you've surrounded yourself with closes further and further in on you, slowly making its way over your face and shielding you from the outside.

Had you done something wrong? Maybe you unintentionally said something insulting about one of them and it spread around the group. Did they all hate you now? Maybe your "new shiny object" charm wore off, and they were bored of you- like when a child gets a bunny for Easter and their parents end up getting rid of it after a month because they lost interest. Or maybe you were never really interesting to begin with. They could have been faking it, just to get on Diavolo's good side. Or maybe they were using you...There definitely was evidence to suggest that could be the case. So they'll come back when they need something again...But maybe they never will? Maybe they'll send you back to the human world and forget all about you...

The thoughts hurled their way through your mind rapidly. Somehow, you managed to sift through what you thought to be the plethora of evidence that supported each one of your theories. It didn't make sense for all of them to be correct of course, but you believed it was more likely than sheer coincidence. How else would it explain why Mammon and Belphie just ignored your messages?

You tighten your grip on the blanket you bundled yourself into, pulling the fabric down over your eyes. The self-deprecation and rejections replayed in your thoughts like a broken record. The inside of your mind was so loud, you barely heard the sound of your door flinging open and slamming against the wall.

...barely.

"Oi, human! I just got back from winnin' big at the Casino. Ya won't believe how much I got this time!" Mammon quipped loudly as he strolled into the dark room. The light from the hall spilled in, illuminating your lumpy figure under the blankets. Mammon cocked his head to the side as he noticed you, fiddling with a small box that he was hiding behind his back.

You don't reply, only curl into yourself further, praying for him to go away. You were certain that he was only here to brag, and hadn't even glanced at the message you sent him about wanting to spend time together. Clearly, the Casino and his greed meant more to him. He was a demon, after all.

"Aye! I'm talking to you, Human! This aint no time to be sleepin'! C'mon!" Mammon paused his movements as he reaches the edge of your bed. His brow now furrowed with a mixture of confusion, irritation, and concern. After you don't respond a second time, his anxiety begins to spike.

"What, are ya sick or somethin'?" Mammon shakes you a little to roughly with one hand, but the action becomes more gentle when he finally hears your sniffling, despite your best attempts to hide it. "Hey...what'sa matter?"

You shake your head enough to where you're sure he can see the movement from beneath the covers, but still say nothing. Mammon's frown deepens on his face, now heavily concerned with whatever had you to the point of tears.

"Did someone..? I swear if anyone dared lay a damn hand on ya, their head would be mounted on The Great Mammon's wall!" He growls protectively. Mammon squeezes your shoulder gently, but is taken aback when you swat his hands away.

"G-go away." You mutter.

Mammon blinks, taking a minute to process what he'd heard you say. "Huh?"

"I said: Go. Away." Your voice is louder as you snap at him, finally revealing your face from underneath the blanket cocoon you had nestled your woe into.

Mammon's eyes widen at the state of your tear-stained face. "Hey now...I ain't goin' anywhere 'til you tell me what's eatin' ya."

You sigh, folding yourself back under the blankets without another word. Mammon stands there, confused, trying to think of what to do. Clearly you weren't going to make him leave, despite saying you wanted to be alone. For a minute he ponders what could have you so upset. After his mind continues to draw blanks, he pulls out his phone, trying to see if you had maybe left any clues in the group chat. After reading through the innumerable messages declining the request to spend time with you and you're dejected "that's ok..." in response, he begins to put the pieces together.

"I'm here now, Mc..." Mammon clears his throat, sitting at the edge of your bed. "So...er...we can hang out, if ya want..."

Again, you don't reply to him. The only thing swimming through your mind now is the pity he must feel for you, seeing you like this. He probably thinks you're pathetic.

Mammon shifts his jaw. He hadn't often seen you in a state like this, but something about being lonely must have set you off. He thinks back to all of the times he himself had been lonely, and everyone else was too busy for him. The difference for him, though, was he found comfort in greed- that was his way of feeling less lonely. The casino, the horse track, and even online gambling dens were crowded with demons. Sure, many of them would roll their eyes at him or make snide remarks when he passed them by, but at least he wasn't alone.

He lets out a sigh, fidgeting with the box in his hand. "I'm sorry Mc. I didn't know you were so lonely. If I woulda known, I'd've come right home and skipped the Casino..." He pauses, glancing at your form that lay hidden underneath the blankets. "..but, I also wouldn't've been able to get ya this."

You barely have time to register what he says before a box is shoved into your face. You blink a few times before carefully taking it out of his hands. You swipe the blankets away from your face, taking the chance to study Mammon's intentions. You were surprised again to see him blushing, now turning his head away from you. With an uncertain breath, you open the box. A small gasp escapes your lips, and you snap your attention back to Mammon, who's blush seemed to have spread to his ears.

Inside the box is two sparkly gold necklaces, the heart-shaped pendants appear to be two halves that connect in the center with a magnet, showing that the wearer of each has a "half" of the other person's. "Partners in Crime" is spelled out in black cursive when the pendants are connected to each other. The gift seems befitting of a pair of middle schoolers who labeled each other as best-friends.

But as juvenile as the gift was in theory, you couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Mammon...this is very sweet."

"Yeah, yeah..." Mammon cleared his throat, trying to hid the reddness deepening on his cheeks. "I- uh- just got it so that other demons wouldn't mess with ya, not cuz I got a crush on ya or somethin'... If they see us wearin' the same necklace, they'll know you belong to the Great Mammon!"

For some reason, the comment doesn't phase you. If he'd said something like that 10 minutes ago, you would have been convinced he wanted nothing to do with you, but the gesture of the gift and the adorable flustered state he was in was proof enough that he cared about you...so much so that he went out of his way to pick up a good quality set of jewelry for you both to wear together with his winnings from his gambling. Instead of acknowledging his words, you hug him tightly.

"I...uh..." Mammon interrupted your thoughts, looking down at you with a sheepish smile on his face. "I still got some money left over from my winnings...did ya wanna order a pizza and watch some movies? I ain't got anythin' to do for the rest of the night and-"

"That sounds perfect." You smile warmly up at him. "Thank you."

Mammon finally returns your hug, squeezing you tightly. "Good. You ain't goin' anywhere cuz I got ya all to myself now, ya got that?! And...no more cryin' like that either...The Great Mammon's gonna make all yer problems go away!!"

You let out a small laugh, nuzzling into his chest. "Sure, Mammon..Sure."

[julianalvarez9]

"don't you know what you're doing to me? " "you look good with my hands around your throat." w Ruben Dias pls

attention / rúben dias

summary: wearing your brother's best friend's jersey, in normal circumstances, wouldn't mean anything other than your support for the club where your brother plays. except, you have a slightly more complicated relationship with the owner of the last name displayed in your back.

pairing: rúben dias x stones!reader

prompts: "don't you know what you're doing to me?" + "you look good with my hands around your throat" from this list.

mentions of: unestablished relationship, bit of vulgar language, implications of past sexual encounters (?

author's note: not as smuttish (? as i'd like it to be, but i loved the concept of rúben x stones!r too much 😮‍💨 if anyone has any ideas or concepts for this pair i'll work on them right away 🙏🏻

wc: 1.2k

you never really cared what you wore inside your home, which you shared with your older brother, john. it was always baggy shorts or joggers, depending on the weather, and a random shirt: more often than not, belonging to his wardrobe, fitting you like a dress due to the size difference between john and you.

but today, you did it on purpose.

you knew messing around with rúben wasn't the smartest idea: not only due to him being a footballer, which was bad enough on its own, since your brother made you swear when you were fifteen that you'd never date one, but because he was your brother's best friend.

and if the whole ordeal wasn't bad enough for you, rúben had the audacity of ghosting you for a week, before coming to see your brother, not even sparing a glance at you.

truth was, last time you two were together, his mind slipped. he had told you the infamous three words in the heat of the moment, and although you two hadn't discussed it when you finished your funny business, rúben was punishing himself for it. he knew he said it because he meant it, but he also knew that there was no possibility of you two ever getting together. that's what you had told him from the start: "1. we're not friends. 2. no feelings involved. 3. john can't know".

so, it was understandable, from an outsider's point of view, why he was trying to distance himself from you, but since rúben never told you the reason, you were pissed. rightfully pissed.

that was the reason behind today's attire: shorts and rúben's number 3 on your back.

when john saw you this morning, at breakfast, he didn't even spare a glance. he knew you had a few jerseys belonging to his teammates, including a kevin de bruyne one that you cherished with your life, almost never wearing it, only on special occasions. but john had seen you repping the dias surname on your back, and not once questioned it. not even today, when he knew that his friend would be coming to play some video games, enjoying the free day off training that the team got after the fa cup final won the day before against man united.

staying seated on the couch after breakfast, wasting time scrolling on your phone wasn't strange behavior for you, either. you stayed there until you heard your brother open the door and greeted his friend in, giving you the perfect excuse to go back to your room: they were gonna play their video games for hours, and you weren't about to be hours on end looking at a screen, enduring the angry shouts of two grown men.

you jumped up, picking up your phone and water bottle to go, just when rúben was walking onto the living room now, happily chatting to john until he saw you standing there. you waved, displaying a friendly smile on your face, even if your blood was boiling at the sight of the portuguese who couldn't even text back, but who could come to your house so shamelessly -even if he wasn't planning to see you. still, you made sure that he could see your figure disappearing when you left the room, and with it, his name clearly printed across your back.

you weren't even thinking about rúben anymore the next time that you exited your room. you simply were trying to get to the kitchen to refill your water bottle, and you did just that. yeah, it should have seemed a little strange to you that you couldn't hear any shouts from your brother's best mate, but you attributed it to the fact that he was generally calmer than john; he was competitive, but not at your brother's level. you didn't think anyone could match him, to be honest. so, it shouldn't have surprised you to find him, seated on your bed when you came back to your room, but still, it did.

"you're doing it on purpose, aren't you?" he questions, his tone not wavering once. you try not to look into his face when he gets closer, bringing you all the way into the room to close the door behind you softly, as to not raise suspicions. when you murmur a soft "i don't know what you're talking about" you can't see how his browns crease due to your gaze being focused on the ceiling above to avoid his eyes. he can still see the lie painted all across your face, and most importantly, the proof resting on your figure, so he forcefully angles your face by your jaw to finally connect his brown eyes with yours.

the act takes you by surprise, and you shove his hand out of your face. "what the fuck, rúben!?" you whisper-shout, and you worry when you remember your brother's not too far away from the room in which you two are in.

he scoffed. "don't ignore me now" rúben scolds, and you roll your eyes at him, annoyed, which only infuriates him more. he has to stop his desire to smash his mouth into yours, because after a week, he does think he'd be able to stop, not even when his best friend could walk in on you any minute. "acting innocent now," he continues, holding onto your waist with a bruising force. "don't you know what you're doing to me? flaunting my name on your back" he says, tugging your shirt one, two, three times, with so much force you think he's gonna rip it off your body. "while i can't do anything about it?".

you laugh bitterly at his argument. "well, that's entirely your fault, big boy".

the mocking way you use to refer to him has him laughing bitterly and throwing his head back in resignation. "how is it my fault?", rúben questions, and it's like he genuinely doesn't know, which only fuels your anger more. "i don't know, maybe try not messing around with your best mate's little sister and then ghost her for a week, right?".

"stop with the attitude," he scolds, and his hand, previously grasping your cheeks to get your full attention, slides down your throat, pressing onto it lightly. you gasp at the small pressure, and his eyes shine with lust. "you look good with my hands around your throat, did you know that?".

he grins when your whimper at his filthy praise, and you use the small moment of distraction to reach for the back of his neck to draw him in. its been a couple of days now, longer than it has ever been since your little arrangement started, at least, so the kiss is anything but gentle, tongue and teeth clashing against each other. you know that, if you continue this path, your floor will be covered with your clothes and his, so yo need to stop it, with the last bit of clear judgment you have in your brain. "we're not fucking with my brother in the next room".

he laughs against your neck, and it has your neck erupting in goosebumps with the way his hot breath fan across your skin. "who said anything about fucking?" he asks, continuing with the neck kisses after the rhetorical question, and his touches leave you forgetting everything, including that your brother is probably looking for him.

"i won the game, rúben! 5-0!" john screams, and by the way it sounds so far away, you can breathe since he's still in the living room. "where the fuck are you?".

[bekolxeram]

Good morning! (Well, at my place) I've just read your take on fandom, and while I'm personally avoiding most of the cast interviews and stuff, I see your point. I'm just afraid that's too much a voice of reason. Something spread all over the world today, facts do not matter very much. And people really forget that fandom is fun. Anyway, would love to see more of those posts :)

I too usually avoid interviews and stuff, I'm mostly in it for the excuse to unite my love for aviation, disaster documentaries and gay stuff. I'm sure you've stumbled across fandom discourse before and asked yourself "are we watching the same show?" Well, I saw a post about one of the actors "confirming a character's sexual orientation" and I was just wondering if we were reading the same words.

I've seen media literacy, canon vs fanon being brought up numerous times for the last 2 months, but I think I've finally found the right words to describe my gripes with the fandom: the confusion of implication and interpretation.

Maddie pulling Chimney out of the frame in that hotel room then ending up pregnant a few episodes later, implication, it's not the network or the show for explicit sex scenes. Buck making a dirty face while saying the ring cutter was for "other stuff", well what other stuff can you think of? Hen and Chimney hanging out with Tommy at the bar in Bobby Begins Again, would Hen and Chimney knowingly become friends with someone who was still racist and misogynist that they had a problem with? These are all hardly refutable facts that just weren't shown explicitly on screen for whatever reasons.

A male character being emotionally repressed and having trouble dating women on the other hand, could be because he is attracted to men without knowing it, but it also could be due to all sorts of reasons like childhood trauma, religious trauma, trauma from the battlefield, unprocessed grief from on-and-off ex-wife suddenly dying in an accident so any sort of closure is no longer possible etc. Another male character looking after a good kid when his father is trying his best to juggle between raising him and being a first responder, could be because he is romantically interested in said single father and wants to become part of a traditional type of nuclear family unit with the kid, but it also could be just him being kind and empathetic, as he himself grew up with emotionally neglectful and absent parents. You can interpret these things all sorts of ways based on your personal experience, but the show itself doesn't tell you how to frame it, nor does it limits you. Though at the end of the day, other people may interpret the same piece of media in different ways, and that includes the showrunner, the writers and even the actors themselves.

And then there's conflating interpretation with irrefutable explicit fact, like I demonstrated in some of my posts. Like the moment after 7x10 came out, the whole fandom was enshrouded by debates over daddy kink. One side painted Tommy as a sexual predator who exploited Buck's moment of vulnerability to satisfy his own kinks (again, Buck started the daddy thing), the other side defended the rights for gay men to explore sexually whenever they like. Yes, the I know daddy kink is very common among the gay community, but the concept itself has become so mainstream the past few years (I blame Pedro Pascal) that it now vaguely means "an older man who is hot".

After a few weeks of thinking I'm crazy and I lack verbal and reading comprehensions, I finally read the source material behind most of the controversies, and I got things completely different from the mainstream discourse out there? I've never seen anyone from the production of the show explicitly stating or even imply a certain ship would come true? At most, they respect and validate fans' own interpretations of the story, that's it. It doesn't necessarily mean they agree with said interpretation, and it certainly does not invalidate other possibilities.

So here we are, some fans feel betrayed even though they were never promised anything. Other fans get nervous over stuff that is actually just an interpretation of a cast member's interview, which in itself is also an interpretation of their own character, but tutted as absolute fact by some.

Enjoying a piece of media is supposed to be about enjoyment, not like a part-time job, so enjoy the parts you like and ignore the rest. But if you want to participate in the fandom, and you feel anxious anytime there's rumors brewing, tracking down the source might actually bring you more peace.

[warmaidensrevenge]

Fix you....

Pairings: Friend!Eddie x Friend!Fem plus size reader

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

A/N: Hey everyone. So I had this two part fic in mind. I used a song in this fic. I'll tag it down below. Sorry it takes me forever to upload. I have been working so much that all I want to do is sleep. But I do have a lot in the works. And will try to get them out regularly. Any who, without further ado. Here's the shit that's going on in my head right now. As always feedback is greatly appreciated and asks/comments are always welcomed. Kay love ya byyyyyeeee. 🙃

I do not give permission for my work to be published anywhere else. Please respect all creators.

Word count: 6,920

Warnings: 18+ Language, mentions of cheating, sexual implications/situations, oral, hurt/comfort/hurt, mentions of molestation, friends to lovers and not proof read.

Summary: Love wasn't meant for you. But Eddie will be damned if you live the rest of your life thinking that.

💔

Eddie and you have been semi acquainted since he moved in with his uncle. Even after you graduated before him, you remained I guess you can say friends. Not besties or anything like that. For the most part you guys would see each other and say hi. Only hanging out with one another when it was a group activity. Nothing really that great to talk about or remember. Him and you were in separate clicks in high school. But once you graduate you separated from your friends. That was until you and Eddie started working at Benny's together. He was a fry cook and you were a waitress. 

Working shifts together were fun. He always tried to get you to laugh. And you did the same. But what the friendship lacked was the personal confessions and emotional bond. Sure Eddie was nice and he admitted to a few things as the friendship progressed. But you on the other hand didn't open up. You were the type that kept your issues to yourself. Not one person in your life knew what went on in your head. Or the struggles you faced on a daily basis. Which was how you liked it. See relationships for you were hard. In all of your 23 years of life you had a multitude of "boyfriends". None really lasting over a year. The most recent one was with a guy named Andy. That one almost lasted a year. But things got complicated.

You guys had moved in together only after 2 months of dating. Everything was great. You were so in love with him that for the first time in your life you let someone in. Let someone get close.

But the happy little life you were building came crashing down when you walked in on Andy sleeping with the neighbor. When you came home on your lunch break one evening to get a new uniform shirt. You saw them. What you walked in on shook you to your very core. For some reason or another you walked away from the situation not saying a word. Andy didn't see you and neither did your neighbor. You walked in silence to your car and drove back to work. You sat there and finally let yourself cry.

Eddie was on a smoke break when he saw you. He put out his cigarette and started towards your car. When you spotted him you quickly wiped your tears away and got out.

" Hey is everything alright?" He asked.

" Y-yeah. Everything is fine."  You said not looking at him. 

" I uhh thought you were going to change your shirt?"

You walked to the front door and stopped before going in.

" I uhh all my extras were dirty." 

Eddie could tell something was wrong. He could always tell when you were upset. And though you always said you were fine, he worried about you. For as long as he could remember you were always a good person. Sure you two weren't close or anything, but he cared a lot about you. Ever since that day you beat the shit out of a girl for pouring milk on his head once. He was going through a hard break up and he was really depressed. You weren't even at the Hellfire table when it happened. All Eddie saw through his milk dripping bangs was a large blur and one of Hawkins "finest" shouting obscenities at you. He wiped his eyes as best as he could and saw you on top of the girl, holding her head in place by her hair and punching her in the face with your free hand. 

Eddie never got the full story into why you did that. All he knew was that you stuck up for him and that's all that mattered. 

So about 2 years after that incident you graduate and went about your life. Barely going out to hang with him and the mutual friends. Every time you did come though, he spent most of the time right next to you. You were hilarious and very charming. The way you made faces and different voices while telling a story had him dying. You were always so sweet to everyone and had the best laugh. Many who knew him would say he was actually crushing on you. But for the most part he just thought you were cool as hell. 

It wasn't until you helped him get a job at the dinner did he realize that was very true. However, you were in a relationship. Which forced him to not pursue you. Though he very much wanted to. 

So that night when he saw you crying he knew he had to do something to make you feel better. Because no matter who you were with or how you forced a fake smile, all he wanted to do was hear you laugh and see a genuine smile.

When you guys went back into the restaurant he went straight to the back and started making a milkshake. He remembered exactly how you liked it. You always get one on especially hard days. So while he made it he quickly went through the back room and went to find an extra shirt for you. Not sure about the size you wore he grabbed a couple. 

You just came out of the restroom after fixing your makeup when Eddie pulled you into the back room. 

" Hey so I found a couple of shirts. Change yeah? Then just take a break and drink your shake." 

He handed you the shirts and the drink. 

" Eddie, you didn't have to do that."

" Yes I did. That's what friends do. " He smiled at you.

His smile got even bigger when you smiled a little.

With your voice just above a whisper, you thanked him and he went back to work.

After that night you had your locks changed and removed Andy off your lease. He begged countless times and apologized so much that all it did was annoy you. Then that apology turned into the blame game. He berated you and said how emotionally closed off you were. Which to be fair was true. Either way the relationship was dead and buried.  

The break up was hard on you. You had told yourself that ' this is exactly why you keep shit bottled up'. 

You swore from that day on that you were done letting people hurt you. Done telling them things that all they did was use them against you. So as time went on Eddie was a good person to lean on. There was no worry of developing feelings or anything like that. He was a very good friend who was always a pleasure to be around. Well…that was until Eddie invited you to the Hideout to see the band. Since high school he's been asking you to come. Your excuse for not going was it was a school night. And when you guys graduate it was because you had to work or that you and Andy were going on a date. However, the following Tuesday and Wednesday you were off. And the break up was 6 months ago. So you had no excuse. Though you hated crowds and bars, you thought just this once you would bite the bullet and support your friend.

…

Eddie was beyond excited. Finally he got you to come. He was nervous. He always got nervous when it came to performing. But this time it was making him sweat. As soon as he and the others walked out onto the stage he saw you sitting at the bar with a drink in hand. This was the first time he had ever seen you with your hair down. It was much longer than he thought. You had always had it in a bun or in a braid. So the length surprised him. But not as much as the rest of you. He was so used to you wearing your uniform with tights and long sleeves that the most of your extremities he saw were your wrist and ankles. But tonight you were wearing faded blue jeans with a hole in the knee and a black halter top. That's when he saw your tats. You had a quarter sleeve on one arm and a couple small tats on the other. Then he saw the edge of a worded tattoo on your side, peeking out the side of your shirt. And when you turned around for a second he saw a flower tat on your shoulder. All that accompanied by your clothes and your hair had him stunned. How the hell did he miss all that? You were beautiful and sexy. Then he realized that he didn't really know you. He knew where you worked and that you had a boyfriend. Now that he realized, he hadn't seen him in a while. He knew you had parents because well everyone had parents. But you never talked about them. Come to think of it, he had known you for about 9 years and he didn't even know when your birthday was. 

That was all going to change tonight. 

You watched Eddie and the guys from high school put on a pretty good performance. You were actually surprised that they all still played. And sounded better. The only time you saw them before was during the middle school talent show. At the time you really didn't understand anything Eddie was singing. And the music was so loud you had to plug your ears. But now they learned to use their speakers better and Eddie's voice dropped and he sounded great. 

You ordered another soda water and enjoyed the show. A few guys came to talk to you but you quickly dismissed them. Tonight wasn't that type of night. You just wanted to hang out and support your friend. 

A few songs later Eddie showed you his range. The song was different from the rest. It started off slow and it just broke your heart.

Your eyes filled with tears listening to the lyrics.

🎵

I am the waiting one it seems

I am the waiting one it seems

Days grow somber quickly

Now how the quiet is release

And I feel so lonely

How did you think I would feel?

Throw me aside again

How did you think I would feel?

Won't let you hurt me again

Now I'm nothing to you, I can see

Just walk away from me

I'm torn apart I can't believe

You'd stand and watch me bleed

🎵

You turned away and cleaned your tears away. Eddie didn't mean to make you cry. He honestly felt so terrible. He wanted to stop playing and hug you. The song was an old one he wrote about a girl a long time ago. He didn't think it would have that effect on anyone. Let alone you. This was the second time he saw you cry and he never hated anything as much as he did seeing you cry. From that day forward he cut out that song from all future shows. 

The show went on and you looked better. Eddie said goodnight to the small crowd and started breaking down the set with his band mates. Once everything was packed up he said bye to his friends and went to sit with you. When he emerged from the back room he saw a guy offering to buy you a drink. But Eddie saw you already had a fresh in hand. You met his eyes as he approached. And with the biggest, prettiest smile he had ever seen.

" Baby!" You squealed, throwing your arms around his neck. 

He was shocked. " Uhhh.."

You whispered in his ear. " Play along."

He nodded slightly and wrapped his arms around you. With one grabbing your ass. You let out a small squeak when he did.

" Hi princess."

You pulled away a little and narrowed your eyes at him.

" Baby, this nice man offered to buy us drinks."

Eddie didn't look at the guy he kept his eyes on you. " Is that right?"

" Uhhh…haha…no…ummm….hmmm? What? Oh. Yeah." The random guy mumbled, and shook his head and took off.

You waited until he was out of sight and stepped back. 

" Munson!" You said through your teeth. Punching him in the shoulder.

" Ahhh what? You said "play along."

You shook your head. " But did you have to grab my butt?"

Absolutely.

" Yeah. You wanted him to stop bothering you right?"

You gave him a thin lip smile and sighed. " Yeah…just next time…keep it PG."

Eddie held up his hands. " Whatever you want princess."

You laughed and turned to the bar to get your drink. " I am not a princess. If anyone is, it's you."

Eddie furrowed his brow for a second before joining you. " How do you figure?"

You took a sip of your drink. " Hmmm let's see. All the jewelry, the very pricey leather jacket and your beautiful long hair. Everything about you screams princess Munson."

He scoffed and grinned.

You laughed a little. " Care to disagree?"

He contemplated it for a second. He knew if anyone heard you call him princess that he wouldn't hear the end of it. But part of him liked that you came up with your own nickname for him. 

" Can I call you that?" You asked with another amazing smile. 

" If…if it makes you happy."

You laughed. " Oh it definitely will."

" Then you can call me whatever you like."

You gave him a smirk. " Alrighty then, what does the princess want to drink?"

He let out a small nose laugh and couldn't stop smiling. 

" Uhh I'll just have water. One of us needs to be sober to get the other home."

You tilted your head. " Princess, I've been drinking soda water all night. I don't drink and drive…that's how-"

When you cut off Eddie saw this look that made his heart sink.. He opened his mouth to ask what you were gonna say but you shook your head and cleared your throat. 

" You guys were great." You said trying to smile.

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. " Uhh thanks. "

There was this awkward silence after. Then out of the blue you offered to make drinks at your place. Eddie agreed and follow you home.

Once at your place Eddie expected to see your boyfriend, but it seemed he was out. You had made a couple of mixed drinks and sat talking about the show and how you were almost finished with college. Going for your teaching degree. Which he didn't even know you were in school. After a bit, Eddie felt a little uncomfortable, because he thought it was a little weird coming home with you. If he was your boyfriend he would have been pissed if you brought a guy home. So a couple of drinks in he decided to ask where Andy was.

You shifted around in your seat at the uncomfortable question. You hadn't told anyone about the break up. But being that you were a little tipsy your mouth just jabbered away.

" Uhhh we broke up."

Eddie tilted his head. " Really? You didn't tell me that."

You nervously laughed. " I haven't told anyone."

Eddie nodded and was quiet for a second. " When did that happen?"

You sighed. " Umm about 6 months ago."

6 months?!

Eddie nodded again. He was thinking about the whole night. The tattoos, you asking him to play along, not drinking at the bar and now. Finding out that you were finally single. He had a mixture of emotions. Not sure what to do with them. He decided to get to know you. That's all he wanted for tonight. Then maybe in the future he would ask you out. And that's how the late night started out. A couple more drinks later he found out your father passed from a drunk driver. He also found out you had a couple of siblings but they moved out of Hawkins a long time ago. Then the reason you broke up with Andy. He apologized and said all guys weren't like that, when you said you didn't want to pursue anyone anymore. One thing led to another and he found himself in bed with you. It started off innocent enough. You guys just laid there. You had offered that he stay the night so that he wouldn't drive home drunk. As he settled on the couch for the night you said as long as he stayed on his side he could sleep in bed with you. Originally he refused but then he looked at your couch. He was really tall and he couldn't get comfortable. So he went with you. He had chuckled seeing the pillow barrier you made between you two. You had given him something to wear and finally both laid down. 

He looked up to the ceiling and smiled. 

" You know I have the same glow in the dark stars above my bed too."

You smiled a little. " You do?"

" Yeah. Ever since I moved in with my uncle. He helped me put together the consolations. I remember laying out under the stairs when we went camping. And he would point out each one."

Your heart softened. Seems like you and Eddie had more in common than you thought.

" My dad did the same thing with me. Except our camping was sleeping bags in our backyard."

Eddie moved a pillow so that he can see your face. 

" I'm sorry about your dad."

You met his eyes and gave him a sweet smile." Thanks princess."

Eddie chuckled. After a few seconds though it faded and you guys just stared at each other. He saw you do that thing that people do when they want a kiss. When you looked between their eyes then to their lips, then back to their eyes. Maybe you didn't realize you were doing it. But either way, you were. And he definitely wanted to kiss you too. 

You move to lean on one of your elbows and got closer to him. Without taking his eyes off of you he moved another pillow. He leaned in and cupped your face. Getting so close he was just centimeters from your lips.

" Are you drunk?" He whispered.

You shook your head but that wasn't enough for him.

" Words sweetie. Use your words."

Your eyes were closed now and Eddie heard you gulp.

" I'm not drunk Eddie…please kiss me."

He quickly pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was good. Really good. And he couldn't just have one. He wanted them all. Every last one of your kisses. They were all his…Well tonight they were going to be.

You laid back down pulling him with you. He lost his balance and accidentally wet lipped your nose. You turned your face and laughed.

" Shit. Sorry."

You wiped your nose still laughing and looked back at him. " It's okay princess."

He chuckled. " I like when you call me that."

You bit your lip and tried to hold back your giggles. Eddie started stroking your hair. Giving you this look that you could swear was the 'I love you look.' 

No. You thought. That's not it. Can't be.

He leaned in and kissed you again. This time with more umph. A few seconds later his lips trailed from yours to your cheek then down your neck.

" I want you." He mumbled against your warm skin.

" Then take me." You whispered.

…

The next morning Eddie woke up feeling amazing. It's been a while since sex felt like that. It was passionate and very satisfying. Though the vanilla-ess of it was something he usually got bored with. Doing it with you was otherworldly. Maybe it's the way you touched him, or how your soft lips felt against his neck. Or maybe it was the way you moaned or said his name. Or how your body felt so good under him. Whatever it was, all he knew was that he wanted you again. And whenever or wherever you would let him. 

When he reached over for you the bed was empty. He looked at his watch and it was a quarter after 1. He sat up and saw his clothes neatly folded on the dresser with a note. 

' Hey princess, umm sorry I had errands to run. I made you some lunch. It's in the fridge. Please lock up when you leave.'

He smiled to himself. He was finally happy that he got his girl. Or so he thought.

He went to work that afternoon and decided after he was going to visit you. When he showed up you were making dinner. When you opened the door you gave him a half hearted smile. He of course went to you. Giving you a big hug. And when he leaned back he gave you a kiss. This one felt off. Nothing like last night. 

When he pulled away he looked at you and you had your head hung. 

" Eddie, we need to talk."

Those words punched him in his gut. Nothing good came from those words.

" Al-alright."

You moved and went to sit at the dining table, with Eddie hesitating at first. Eventually following suit.

You sighed deeply before you met his gaze.

" Eddie, last night was amazing. It's been so long since I felt that good."

He smiled. Okay this is good so far.

"I'm just not ready for something serious."

There it is. 

His smile faded. Was it so wrong of him to want you to be with him after an amazing night? He wanted to be your last everything. 

" Did I do something wrong?"

Your brow pinched together. " What? N-no. Eddie, this has nothing to do with you…it's me okay. Seriously, it's me. I don't want to get into anything, with anyone…don't get me wrong. You've been great. And last night was perfect for what it was…just sex. Which by the way. My compliments."

He chuckled a little. But your kind words weren't enough to make him feel better.

" I'm really sorry Eddie. I didn't mean to lead you on. Or make it seem I was ready for a relationship."

To be honest, you didn't. You were right. If it was anyone else, he would have actually left right after. And probably never talk to them again. But you weren't like anyone else. He cared for you. Always had. 

" I get it. And it's okay…maybe in the future…I don't know. Maybe we can try something."

You gave him a thin lip smile. You wanted to tell him not to get his hopes up. To not wait for you. He deserved someone who could give him their undivided attention. Someone who was good enough. Which you weren't.

" I uhh I guess I should leave you to it." He said getting up and headed for the door. 

" Eddie?"

He turned around. " Yeah?"

" Ummm…I made spaghetti…if you want to stay."

He grinned. How could he say no to that? Especially since it would be the first dinner he had with you.

" Do you have sandwich bread?"

Your lips turned up. " You make tacos with spaghetti too?"

He took off his jacket and flung it on the back of a chair. " I do."

Shaking your head you responded. " I wonder what else we have in common?"

The night was actually very entertaining. Turns out that you and Eddie could get on a deeper level. The conversation started off light and full of laughs. Then it ended with a bit of emotional stuff. Not knowing if you could let him in like that, you said you had to get to bed for the morning shift. 

As badly as he wanted to spend the night, Eddie bid you a goodnight and went home.

You tossed and turned while Eddie had sweet dreams about you. Your mind would not shut up about him. He thought you guys were together. For a second you thought he hooked up with you because well, he could. But showing up the next day. Hugging you and kissing you like that. It was like he'd been wanting to do it for some time now. 

Your thoughts ran rapid in what could have been if only you would have accepted your feelings for him so long ago. 

In highschool you were harboring a crush on good old Eddie Munson. He was beautiful and charming and ever so sweet. But being that you didn't seem to be his type, you shied away from the thought. He always seemed to be with someone who was as metal as he was. Or with someone completely opposite. But most definitely not someone as large as you were. Like Chrissy Cunningham for an example. Pretty, preppy, blonde, thin cheerleader with just the right amount of crooked teeth to make her smile charming. Before she got with Jason Carver she and Eddie had a little something. That was until Jason moved to Hawkins. Stealing her right from him. You noticed everything about Eddie. But it was when he showed up to school not showering for God knows how long, that you knew he was depressed. He wasn't his usual self for days and you had missed his dramatics. On one day in particular you overheard some stupid bitch saying she was going to give him a milk bath. At first you thought it was a joke. But you watched as she walked right over to Eddie and poured milk on his head. You saw red. Next thing you knew, you were being pulled off of her by your friends. With Eddie standing there with the look of horror. That look and that look alone told you everything you needed to know. And from that day forward you kept your distance when you could. Though you and he always seem to gravitate towards each other at parties and what not. Now things were different. Now you've slept with him and the whole mystery of whether or not he liked you more was shattered. Shattered because now you couldn't give yourself to him. Not in the way you wished you could. Your heart was in the middle of a fortress. Guarded not only by a thick high wall and barbed wire. But a 100 foot wide moat around it. With water dragons and Crocs at the ready with rows upon rows of teeth. Waiting to shred an intruder to pieces if they tried entering. 

What you wanted deep deep down, was for Eddie to not slay your protectors and to not break down your walls. But for him to see all of it and walk right in. To make your friends with your guards. To bypass all the protection you have built for yourself. To find your heart buried deep in the catacombs of your castle and be its one and only protector. But he wasn't going to. You made a promise six months ago to never let anyone in.

Never again.

…

Eddie was having a hard time just being your friend. Ever since the amazing 2 nights he spent with you everything went back to normal…well kinda. Work went on as usual. And most nights Eddie either talked to you on the phone or came over. He was determined to get you to see that he would never hurt you. 

He understood why you were the way you were now. It took a while but he eventually got you to open up little by little. He learned that you were the middle child and after your father died your mom had a lot of boyfriends. Who treated you like garbage. Some who were nice but were abusive to your mom. Your mom cycled out guys like it was the thing to do. So you never really learned what good relationships looked like. You had animosity towards your older sisters. They had a different father than you and your brothers. A part of you was jealous that they could see their dad when you could only see yours at the cemetery. And you grew to dislike them more as you got old. They bullied you about your dad and made fun of your weight. You had told him the first time they mentioned how big your thighs were. And then you told him about being molested when you were younger by one of your moms said 'boyfriends' Though your mom kicked him out. She never fully believed you. 

That was one of the worst things he had ever heard. Eddie could kick himself for not getting on a deeper level with you all these years. But it was finally happening and he wasn't going to let you get away. Or let anyone or anything hurt you. 

Everything seemed to be going great. He was getting close. But then one night you came over to his place for the first time. He had cleaned and attempted to make dinner. However, the only thing he could make was eggs and cereal. So instead of giving you food poison, he ordered a pizza. When you came he gave you a quick tour of the trailer then sat to watch a movie. During, you told him something that pissed him off.

" Andy came by today."

Eddie looked at you with his brows knitted together. " What for?"

You shifted a little and hung your head. " He wanted to get back together."

NO!

He was dumbfounded. " Ummm…what?"

You quickly glanced at him then looked away. " Yeah. He…he apologized for what he did."

Eddie didn't realize his fists were closed and he was breathing erratically. That was until he felt your hand over his. Your words snapped him back to the present.

" I told him that I want nothing to do with him." You pulled your hand away and looked at everything but him. " I know that if I do, he's only going to hurt me again. And even I know, just because I'm no one's first choice, that I don't deserve that."

Eddie shook his head. He was just going to tell you his real feelings. But what you said next hurt him.

" I know I shouldn't have brought it up. I don't like talking about my problems. But, I really needed a friend…because if I'm alone tonight…I know that I'm gonna take what I said back and try again."

He was confused. You just said you didn't deserve the hurt you knew was guaranteed.

" Why would you do that?" He asked.

You sighed. " It's stupid. But I miss coming home to him…I miss going to bed with him and miss the talks we had about the future…it's like your lyrics. 'Days grow somber quickly, now how the quiet is released, and I feel so lonely.'... It's like now I realize how useless and alone I feel…maybe it's just me…I'm broken or something. I keep thinking what it would feel like to be good enough. To be loved by someone. Truly loved. Not because of looks or what they can get from me. To be consumed with every part of me and love me dearly for my faults. And not hold them against me…Andy used to make me feel like that. And I can't help but wonder if we could get that back…but I know deep down we can't."

Eddie's heart just broke. You were not useless and as long as he was alive, you would never be alone. So he chose to voice this.

"Look sweetie, you are not useless. I need you." He said, grabbing your hand. " You're one of the most important people in my life. Ever since school you have been there for me…. And you're not alone…you've got me…I'm not gonna hurt you or make you cry."

When you looked at him he cupped your face. Giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.

" Baby, you're special to me. You're so beautiful." He said giving you a kiss on the forehead. " You're so…so sweet." He kissed your cheek again. This time pulling you closer to him by your waist. " Everything you say and do has me….I would follow you anywhere."

" Eddie." You whimpered before he kissed you. 

And though you tried to stop yourself, you had to kiss him back. Kissing never felt like this. It never felt so good before. And Eddie's kisses were the absolute best. He was tender but rough. It was sensual yet loving. Like he didn't just want what was between your legs. Even though the moment he said you were important, he had you. You just didn't know how much.

He pulled away and bore into your eyes. " Sweetie, you're perfect. And you didn't deserve what happened to you. You deserve to be shown love and respect…I'm sorry if he made you feel like you weren't enough. But baby you are. More than-"

You cut him off with your lips. Eddie always knew what to say to make you feel better about yourself. He honestly was the only person who could. 

You pushed him back and straddled him as best as you could with the small amount of space. Kissing him with all your heart and soul. 

" Mmmm…love kissing you." He moaned against your lips.

You wanted to say it back. Because you definitely did love kissing him. He was an incredible kisser. And his full lips fit yours so perfectly. He didn't overwhelm you with too much tongue. He let you breathe in between. Kissing him was just perfect.

Somehow, you guys ended up on the floor. You were kneeling between his legs giving him the most amazing blow job. 

Though you knew you shouldn't. You knew you should have just gone home after the initial first kiss. But you couldn't contain your need to please him. To make him feel as good as he made you feel with his words. Since you weren't so good with yours you used your body. Which was also wrong. It was the only way you could show affection. And right now. Eddie needed to be shown how much he meant to you. Especially tonight.

Eddie saw God…okay not really. But the second your lips touched his cock. He was done for. Every inch of his body tingled feeling and seeing your gorgeous lips surrounding him. The way your chubby cheeks hollowed around him. The feeling of your tongue swirling when you came up and how you took him deep and slow. It honestly had his eyes rolling back that he swore he saw his brain. To be truthful, he was biased when it came to you. In his eyes you could do no wrong. To him the sun shined out of your ass. He loved you. And tonight he felt like you were ready to receive that love.

A few minutes after you started he had to stop.

" Shit. Shit. Shit… baby…gotta stop…gonna make me cum."

Kinda the point. You said to yourself.

You let up and looked at him. Still making sure to stroke him. 

" Your turn." He said sitting up. Causing you to back away a little.

You shook your head. " N-no. It's okay. I-I just wanted you to feel good."

Eddie was confused. Just the way you said it irked him. He lifted his ringed hand and went for your chin when you looked away.

" You made me feel amazing, sweetie. But I want to make you feel good too."

You gave him a thin lip smile and tried to look away. But he kept holding your chin and staring at you with his big brown eyes. 

" Do you not like that?" He asked in a hushed tone.

He saw you swallow gently before your answer.

" I…I never…um had that done."

Eddie smiled sweetly. " That's okay. If you don't want to, then it's fine."

You were quiet for a second. Not even noticing that you had stopped moving your hand and he was getting soft.

In a small voice you asked. " Would-would it make you feel good?" 

Eddie let go of your chin and grabbed your hand. Bringing your knuckles to his lips.

" It's not about me feeling good. It's you…let me make you feel good baby."

You bit your lip out of nervousness. With another soft tone you asked.

" What do I do?"

Eddie got to his knees and kissed you before he answered. " Just lay down…I'll take care of you."

You nodded and did as he instructed. He looked down at you after and he took off his shirt. He put his large hands on your knees and slid them down to the waistband of your black tights. 

" I'm gonna take these off okay?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded again. 

" Words sweetie."

You licked your lips before answering. Your mouth was drier than a desert. 

" Yes princess. You can take them off."

Eddie chuckled a little. Then his heart melted seeing a beautiful smile stretch across your face. It was amazing and it nearly took his breath away.

He mentally shook off the overwhelming feeling to just lay down and hold you. Tonight was the night you and he were taking the next step in the relationship.

He peeled your tights down, with you raising your wide hips so he could get them past your bottom. Once they were off he took in your plush thighs and your very cute pink and white panties. He licked his lips feeling parched as well. 

Eddie had seen you naked before. But this time you were so nervous. You could feel your back starting to sweat. And when he went for your underwear, you held your breath. 

Eddie felt your legs tremble as he slid off your panties. He shushed you, kissing each knee. Trying to reassure you that everything was okay. That if you wanted him to stop, to just say something.

Eddie kissed all over your lovely thighs. Making sure not to miss a single inch. He was now face to face with your beautiful wet pussy. The sight alone took his breath away. Sure he's seen plenty of girls. But yours was better. Prettier. Wetter. A few seconds went by and he couldn't help but stare.

You started getting nervous again and questioning if he no longer wanted to do it. You lifted yourself up to your elbows and looked down.

" Eddie?"

" Huh? Oh…sorry. It's just…do you know how beautiful you are?"

You blushed and shook your head. He started caressing your outer thighs. 

" Well you are…you've always been beautiful. Especially now."

You swallowed. " Why-why now?"

Eddie got closer to your aching cunt. Watching it clench around nothing. 

" Because now…you're mine."

A chill ran up your spine and your core throbbed. 

Yours?

He laid his tongue flat against your warmth and licked upwards. 

" Fuuu" he groaned, lapping through your puff lips. 

He stared up at you and watched as your jaw slacked and your head slowly fell back. He flicked at your swollen nub and slurped up your juices. 

Eddie was enjoying this a little too much. But he couldn't help it. You tasted so good. You tasted like a penny dipped in syrup. A little sweet with just the right amount of tang. It was absolutely amazing. But what made it more so was how incredibly wet you got as you got more and more aroused. His tongue was swimming in it. His chin glistened with it. And he was just in love. 

Your soft moans gave him butterflies. And when your fingers laced in his hair he smiled to himself.

" G-good?" He mumbled.

" Mmhmm " you hummed. " S'good."

He smirked for a second and went back to focusing his mouth on your clit. Only this time he added his fingers to the mix. He eased his middle and ring finger in. Making you squirm. Your moans grew a little louder and your chest was heaving. 

So beautiful. He thought. 

Before he knew it you came. Nice and slow. He pulled out his fingers and brought them up to his mouth. Sucking them clean before climbing up your body. 

" Can I take your shirt off?"

Still trying to catch your breath, a small yes came out. He helped you sit up and pulled off your shirt. His calloused fingers traced the curve of your neck down to your bra strap.

" And this?"

You cupped his face and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. 

" Yes." 

As he kissed you deeply his hands went for your hooks. He had trouble for a second then froze when he accidentally snapped your bra. You whimpered a little then just laughed.

" Jesus…I-I-I I'm sorry. I-"

You brought a finger up and put it on his lips.

" Shhhh. It's okay. It happens."

A small breathy laugh left him and he nodded.

He tried again and was successful this time. He resumed the kiss and pulled your straps over your shoulders and tossed it to the side. He cupped both of your breasts and began massaging them. You pulled him down after a minute or so. As he got comfortable on top of you your hand snaked down to his length and put him inside of you. 

Eddie made love to you for what seemed like hours. He didn't want this night to end. But finally when both of you were spent he held you. 

For the first time you felt like you were where you were meant to be.

You were just about to fall asleep when Eddie said something you weren't ready for.

" I'm happy we're together now."

Your eyes widened. 

We're together?

...

@salenorona23