#i know it's a lot but guess what. lots of love in my heart and thoughts in my head 😔

[multific]

Rolling for Love

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: He always watched you from afar, never brave enough to talk to you.

You were hustling through the hallway, your books and notebooks tightly pressed against your chest, when it happened. The sound of items hitting the floor echoed down the empty corridor.

Your dice scattered in every direction.

You froze, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

Of all the days, this had to be the one.

Your heart raced as you rushed to pick up everything.

A familiar pair of boots comes into view, followed by Eddie Munson’s face peering down at you. His eyes are wide, almost amused, as he bends down to help you pick up the scattered items. You mumble an apology, feeling even more flustered, and then catch a glimpse of something unexpected.

"Looks like someone’s having an eventful afternoon," he said, kneeling down to help you gather everything.

You let out a nervous laugh, heat rising to your cheeks. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to make a scene."

"No big deal," he replied casually, handing a dice back to you. "You into this kind of game, then?"

You hesitate, feeling your heart skip a beat. His curiosity makes your palms sweat a little, but how he looks at you makes it easier to talk about it. 

"I’ve been into it for a while. I usually play as a rogue. Like sneaking around and outsmarting people. Do you play?"

He grinned, obviously pleased by the topic of conversation. 

"I’m the one who sets it all up—Dungeon Master. Someone’s gotta keep things interesting. It’s a lot of work, but I love it." of course he was. It fit him so well. "You know," he starts slowly, his eyes searching yours as if looking for something. "I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now."

You blink, caught off guard. "Really? I... didn’t know that."

He shrugs, a bit of colour rising to his cheeks. 

"Yeah. I guess I’ve always been a little nervous about it. You seem so... well, cool. Out of my league, maybe."

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to let the compliment catch you off guard. 

"Out of your league? That’s kind of ridiculous."

He seemed to relax a bit, and a hint of a grin returned to his face. 

"Maybe. But you’re smart, you’re funny, and you seem into the same things I am. I just didn’t think it’d ever happen."

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. 

"Well, you know, I’ve actually been kind of into you too."

"Wait, really?" he blinked, looking genuinely surprised. 

"Yeah," you said, feeling a bit nervous. "I’ve liked you for a while, actually. I just never said anything."

He took a step closer, his expression softening, a smile on his lips.

"That’s... kind of a surprise."

You let out a small laugh, feeling the tension slowly leave the air between you.

For a moment, you both just stood there, the hallway seeming almost empty except for the two of you. He finally spoke up, his voice low and thoughtful. 

"So, what now?" he asked rather nervously.

"We could grab a coffee sometime, maybe talk more about D&D... or, you know, just hang out." you shrugged your shoulders. 

"That sounds perfect." he liked the idea. 

As you started walking down the hallway, talking about your favourite campaigns and possible new storylines, it felt like the world turned in a new direction. 

And maybe, just maybe, you and Eddie were finally going in the right direction, together.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief  

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @brevlada24

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[apeachty]

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀broken rules, mended hearts

⠀⠀⠀fwb!yeonjun x fem!reader

genre : angst, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff at the end

warnings : dom fwb!yeonjun x sub!reader, both are intended more or less grown up as yeonjun has his own apartment and reader has a job; LOTS of kinks mentioned, but nothing too much; reader was “close to inexperienced” before yeonjun; unwanted pregnancy discussions; some misogyny (not from yeonjun, ofc); reader is awkward when it comes to dates and also puts yeonjun through a really bad emotional rollercoaster (but not on purpose); lots of misunderstandings and overthinking. reader wears a sundress (is it important?..). melancholic and angsty, but with a happy end

wordcount : 14k

note : sigh... thank you @biteyoubiteme for hyping me up, beta reading it and listening to all of my tantrums every 3k words. it wouldn't have happened without you ♡ i also don't know how it happened, i guess i just wanted a happy ending for fwb!yeonjun bad enough.

yeonjun had become soft recently. too soft. what was once regular doggy style slowly transformed into regular missionary, with your limbs wrapped tight around his body; occasional cowgirl rides, where he’d watch you struggle, hands behind his head, shifted to him holding you tight and helping you move on top of him. chests pressed close, as your breaths were mingling in the small, intimate space, heartbeats syncing as one. 

sharp quick bites turned into deliberate love marks he took his time to make, pressing his lips gently to each mark before moving to unmarked skin; quick frustrated slaps to your thighs and ass became more intended and calculated. he developed a habit of gripping handful after each slap, fingertips sinking into your flesh, before caressing bruised skin tenderly. he was marking you even more than before, but started doing it slowly, as if savouring every drag of his nails along your thighs, every touch, every bite, and wanting you to savour it too.

rare, tiny pecks that used to happen infrequently began appearing more often, slowly inching dangerously close to your lips. so slowly that you barely noticed it until you could smell mint toothpaste and faint honey chapstick he bought for himself because he loved the way yours smelled. his mean name-calling and degradation melted into sweet names and an almost unnecessary amount of praise. 

unnecessary, you chuckled to yourself bitterly. you never knew how much you needed yeonjun to be like that until he became the person who held you tight after each orgasm, his hand over your heart, waiting for it to calm down, his lips pressed to your neck, whispering how much of a good girl you were for him. sometimes he stayed the night, or made you stay. gosh, you even cockwarmed him through the night once, and you never wanted him to leave your body after that. 

what had started as a way to release frustration, stress, or anger, became something messy and confusing. he began refusing to have sex with you when he was angry, calling it “unfair to you”. he said he didn't want to pour all of his frustration onto you. you begged him sometimes, though. at first, because he was so unbelievably hot when he was like that and you craved him to be rough—the roughest—with you. later, because you wanted him to let it all out—bottling up emotions never did anything good for anyone, and you knew fucking you until you could barely think would help him.

sometimes he agreed, and sometimes he didn't. if he did, he still started softly, keeping his emotions down just for a moment to make sure you knew he wasn't angry at you, never at you, before throwing you on the bed and making you a dumb, trembling, whimpering mess beneath him. marks and love bruises bloomed all over your body as he fucked you senseless. when he refused, though, you talked about his day, ate ice cream or some of his favourite food, as frustration was slowly leaving his body and he was laughing more and more at your antics. understanding which one was needed started coming naturally for you somewhere along the way. and he confessed once that both were helping him the same, in their own ways. 

yeonjun started taking more charge when you were the one stressed too, almost pulling you away from his dick when he knew that getting fucked senselessly would only add to your burden. he acted like he knew better than you did, and the worst part was—he was right. he was doing exactly what you needed, almost every time, and if he ever misunderstood, he was quick to change his approach. it felt like he could get into your mind. or like you two were so perfectly suited, your flaws aligning like puzzle pieces, that no words were needed. you didn't know which one was worse.

it wasn't that sex had become boring or rare. against all odds, you both started reaching out to each other more often—not just on bad days, but when you were horny, or bored, or had free time. sometimes you’d text him because you missed him, and even though he agreed to meet every time, you refused to admit—even to yourself—that you just wanted to spend time with him, sex or not. 

you started experimenting more too. impulsive rough sex had its limits and lines yeonjun couldn't cross because he could hurt you while he couldn't control himself, but as it started happening on a cold head more and more often, you both found yourselves enjoying testing how far he could go, how much your body could take. he learned your limits—how many slaps your butt could endure, the right way to squeeze your throat to make you dizzy yet enjoying it, how many times he could deny your orgasm or grant it, how hard he could pull your hair to make you beg for more. you even got a pretty box of all the nice toys and added ‘yellow’ as a safe word just for him to explore your limits more comfortably. 

one day he mentioned a list of more things he would like to try—you weren’t sure if it was with you or in general, given his experience. you were close to inexperienced when the ‘friends with benefits’ thing started, and he introduced you to many of his kinks. surprisingly enough you loved each one, while being not too interested in the ones he was indifferent to. but there were more he wanted you to try, and he named only a few—free use with somnophilia, the thought of him using you any moment and any way he wanted already thrilled you; role play, the few ideas he shared sounded good already. but the one he mentioned and quickly brushed off was a spit kink, which stuck in your mind since then, conflicting with the ‘no kissing’ rule of his. 

yeonjun was a decent man too, always had been, so it was typically at least one for one when it came to oral activities between you two. of course, sometimes he could eat you out simply because he wanted to, not as a “return the favour” gesture, but usually you just skipped it for the sake of the main event unless he wanted to fuck your face. recently, however, it had changed too—eating you out had become a necessary part of the ‘main event’ for him, as if something had been unleashed within him. he would spend hours between your legs before or after fucking you—or both—and it felt like he had learned from the gods themselves. his free hand would often be resting over your heart or holding yours, fingers interlaced. and at the same time you had to beg him to let you suck him off, despite knowing you weren't that bad at it and that he clearly enjoyed the feeling of your mouth on him. you assumed he just enjoyed hearing your pathetic begging for his cock a little bit more.

you’d probably fucked on every surface in his apartment, which wasn't exactly weird, because you did it before too—often none of you had enough patience to get to the bedroom. but now it was different—he asked you if you liked the place, if it was comfortable for you, if the position was comfortable or if you would like something else. if you didn’t like it he never pulled you there even in the heat of a moment. his questions weren’t obvious, but you quickly caught on, jokingly suggesting you should fill a survey. he laughed, joking back and saying you two could move in together for the research to go faster.

it was confusing. he was confusing. and you hated it more than anything. except one thing—the way your “friends with benefits” arrangement was evolving lately made you feel soft and dizzy, made you dream of something more like you were a middle schooler writing her crush’s name in a diary and drawing a bunch of tiny hearts around it. it went against the ‘no catching feelings’ he’d set up in the beginning. you broke it at some point—maybe ‘friends with benefits’ thing wasn’t for you in general? you were hiding it, of course, but when he started changing, you started overthinking it. was he breaking the rule too? was it just normal behaviour for friends with benefits? was it just normal behaviour for him? 

you didn’t ask, afraid he would laugh at you and your stupid childish feelings. but you didn’t break what you had either, not knowing what to do to make it hurt the least in the end for you and choosing to go with the flow. you tried to not question anything he did, slowly giving him control over your relationship, not only in bed but out of it too. you had no idea how it was supposed to work in general, and he never explained except making a few rules and asking if you had any rules you'd like to have too. you couldn't think of anything, so you just mumbled something about you both checking for STDs, and he chuckled telling you it always went without saying.

a few weeks later it became the “we're strictly exclusive” rule, as you both realized that looking for anyone else was useless—you met each other’s needs well. you ditched condoms too—you’d been on birth control pills for years already, you were exclusive, and you both were clean. and he swore you would be into cum play just as much as he was. he turned out to be right, because condoms were prohibited in his and your place since the first night without one. it never crossed your mind, because it made sense, until one day, months later, you realized your period was late.

you had been staying at yeonjun’s house for nearly two weeks—his apartment was closer to your work, and with the quarter ending, he suggested you move in until you finished your extra work. it made sense, as you already had enough of your belongings there, and he often checked if anything needed to be bought. his gaze fell on your period supplies one day, and he realized that you should have been on your period for a few days already, but all the packages were still unopened. 

it wasn't too big of a deal, it had happened a few times before. these past two weeks had been stressful for you, so he just grabbed the last pregnancy test—making a mental note to buy more later—and handed it to you without any second thought. you didn't pay much attention to it either, taking it from him and going to the bathroom. after all, you were taking pills, and even though they weren't 100% effective, getting pregnant was still rare. the test showed positive though. 

seeing the pale little line next to the bright one made your whole world come crashing down. you stared at it, unable to comprehend what was worse. unwanted pregnancy? you didn't want to have children, not at that point of your life at least. yeonjun didn't want either. he was your friend with benefits for god's sake, that was completely uncalled for. it'd be uncalled for even if you were dating, and you weren't. you started spiraling. pregnancy could be dealt with, but he could think you did it on purpose, skipping your pills just to get pregnant, to baby trap him. he would hate you, you thought. he would yell at you to get out, saying he wanted nothing to do with you, that everything was a mistake, even meeting you.

yeonjun found you a few minutes later, sitting on the bathroom floor and staring at the test, tears streaming down your face. you didn't react to him calling you, and he didn't need to look at the test to know the result. you looked up at him, eyes puffy and red, holding out the test. he glanced at it quickly, but it felt like an eternity for you. it was the moment you realized the feelings you had caught for him were too strong, as your heart was breaking into the smallest pieces at the thought of him telling you to leave his life. and the worst thing was, you weren't so sure anymore what to do with the child, with the tiny piece of him. 

you waited for him to yell at you, but he never did. yeonjun wasn't excited or even happy to become a father, but he sat down next to you and held you while you fell apart in his arms, trying to keep at least the biggest pieces of you together. he promised to hold your hand through every step of pregnancy, birth, and parenthood if the test was right and you wanted to keep the baby. he said you could move in with him here, and he would turn his little dance room into a nursery and baby’s room later, or even sell that apartment to buy a bigger one. he swore to never leave you two alone, and if you needed a guarantee, he was ready to marry you as soon as possible.

yeonjun ran to get more when he was sure you had calmed down. it turned out the test was expired and showed a false positive—you weren't pregnant, and you were relieved. he visibly relaxed too—he never told you he was happy you weren't pregnant but you knew him well enough already to know it yourself, and weren’t mad at him even for a second—you felt absolutely the same. the whole situation drained you completely though, and you fell asleep early that day, wrapped tightly in yeonjun's arms as he kept you together after all the shocks of the day. 

that was the last time it happened, the unwanted and unhappened pregnancy drawing a line between you that was little by little becoming a growing gap. you distanced yourself from him, and he started reaching out much less frequently too. you didn't know what was going through his head, but you assumed he realized that having a child was too much—maybe with you, maybe in general—and the risk wasn't worth it. you were thinking something similar: if you were going to take that risk, you'd prefer doing it in not only an exclusive but also committed relationship, and you couldn't have it with yeonjun no matter how much you wished the rule didn’t exist.

it brought you here, sitting half ready for a date on the couch in your apartment, phone in hand. you hadn't heard from yeonjun in three weeks, and for three weeks, you tried to keep your mind as empty as your hollow heart was, afraid that even the smallest thought about what you two had would ruin the little composure you managed to get. but it didn't happen—you’d just basically analyzed everything that happened in these months, and it didn't break you. it only left you more empty. 

you looked down at the messaging app. the chat with yeonjun was still pinned to the top, little ‘3w’ at the top right corner mocking you. i'll unpin it later, you thought, moving your gaze lower. there was one unread message from ‘jaeyong’. “will be there in an hour, baby ;)”, sent twenty minutes ago. you almost made a face at the word ‘baby’—only yeonjun didn’t make it sound cringe. you hadn't even met the guy yet, you matched with him on tinder a few days ago. surprisingly so, because you were ready to give up, as you kept comparing everyone to yeonjun, and of course, no one was ever close. you weren't even sure how you swiped that one right, probably by accident, but you did. maybe it was destiny?

the ice cream cafe you agreed to meet at was nice, as you had seen it daily on your way to work and were a regular during certain periods, visiting almost daily. they offered a variety of tasty treats, so you didn't have to limit yourself to just ice cream alone. the workers were always friendly too despite the constant stream of customers, but you knew quieter hours as a person who sometimes stayed extra hours at work. or as someone who spent countless days in the area, you realized as your gaze fell upon the window table you and yeonjun used to sit in the late evenings, laughing at each other's poor ice cream flavour choices.

when jaeyong asked you if you had any preferences for the meeting place, you named that cafe without any second thought—he was a stranger and you didn't want to meet him somewhere near your house, but you didn't want to go to an unfamiliar area either. he didn't know where you were working too except brief occupation description, so a cafe not so far from work seemed safe. it felt safe too, but for a completely different reason than you initially thought. it wasn't about the familiar area or the familiar workers; it was about the safety and peace you felt when you were there with yeonjun.

you had to gather some strength to tear your eyes away from the table you two used to occupy regularly and choose another table. you sat down and put your purse on your knees, checking your watch. you were a few minutes early, and it made you uneasy—were you supposed to be a bit late? was it expected from you as some… unspoken rule? should you have waited outside? but it was drizzling lightly, it might ruin your hair or make up. were these good even? yeonjun barely cared if you were barefaced and wore a ponytail, a braid or a bun, so over the months you had gotten out of the habit of dolling yourself up when it wasn't necessary.

but it was necessary now. and you had to stop thinking about yeonjun. you inhaled and exhaled slowly—he was a finished chapter in your life, and you had to move on. you had a date with another man. even if that one didn’t work out, it was a start already. the first step was always the hardest one, and you hoped that this first step would at least help you realize what you were looking for—something that wasn’t just ‘yeonjun’. 

but jaeyong turned out to be… not exactly what you expected. he was a bit late, but you greeted him with a wide smile nevertheless, getting up to hold out your hand to shake his. his cute apologetic smile fell, and he shook your hand awkwardly. you mentally slapped yourself—you had no idea what he expected you to do, but it probably wasn't a handshake that was usually exchanged only between men. you sat back down, nervousness coming back, as you pulled your chair closer to the table, which made him raise his eyebrow. of course. minus another point—you were supposed to let him pull your chair out instead of doing it yourself. 

by the time you finished your dessert, you lost count of how many points you lost. you came up to the counter to order your food yourself instead of telling him so he could order for you both. you paid for your coffee and dessert. you sat on your own again, because you forgot he tried so hard to be a gentleman. you probably ate and drank in some wrong way, but you couldn’t understand what exactly you did wrong—you didn’t talk with your mouth full and didn’t laugh like a hyena at his latte moustaches, showing it subtly on yourself to give him a hint. was that wrong?..

but it wasn’t the worst part of the date. you thought nothing could be worse than being silently judged for every little thing, but then he started talking about his ex. how she wanted to focus on her career instead of giving birth to a few precious babies and become a housewife, while he would work hard to support them all. she had told him that from the beginning, but he was sure she would change her mind—all women did, it was their role after all. he said he was on the verge of achieving it, but she broke up with him for something trivial. you were too close to losing another few points for the sake of checking your tinder profile in the middle of the conversation—you were sure you had ‘don’t want to have kids yet’ there. 

you throw a quick glance outside the window. the rain was pouring now and you didn’t have an umbrella—you hadn’t checked the forecast and had to use your jacket to cover your head when the drizzle started on your way here. and you obviously didn’t have a ride home or at least to the nearby subway station, leaving you with only option—losing a few more points by getting a taxi on your own instead of letting jaeyong get it for you. he was too much of a creep to know even the street you were living on. 

your gaze moved to the window table once again. you never realized how easy it was with yeonjun despite that ‘friends with benefits’ thing complicating everything. at least it was safe with him, and even when he was unpredictable, he was unpredictable in the best way possible. not to mention all the other things that made him so much better than the man sitting across from you now. you pressed your lips together—you missed him, missed the way you felt when you were with him, even though you were sure you’d get your heart broken at some point. but maybe you were just biased toward jaeyong, because your brain still was occupied with thoughts of yeonjun?..

suddenly, your date fell silent. right, not paying attention, minus another point. you suppressed the urge to sigh and looked back at him, hands fidgeting with an empty cup, the textured print feeling nice under your fingers. he threw a quick glance at your hands—minus one more point?—before continuing where he left off, probably launching into another story about why another woman was a gold digger for paying for herself on a date with him. you had abandoned hope of finding any sense in his life views long ago, so you just let his words wash over you without truly listening. 

the bell over the door rang softly, announcing another customer coming in. you looked up, curious about the other lost soul who ended up being in this cafe instead of the warmth of their home, and froze. the person's back was turned to you as they put their umbrella into the stand, but you could swear it was him. his hair was shorter, much shorter, not covering his neck anymore, a neat undercut looking foreign on him—he had one long before you met, you saw photos, but you never saw it in real life. but it was undoubtedly him. yeonjun.

your certainty didn't help you, though, when he turned and looked at you immediately—there was no one else in the cafe after all, of course he looked at you. his face looked different somehow with the shorter hair, but he still was your yeonjun. your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met. he was shocked, his eyes huge and mouth agape, but his expression changed when he noticed a man sitting across from you. his gaze hardened, and he pressed his lips together. yeonjun understood it was a date, he wasn't dumb, but he didn't have time to mourn his heart, because his subconscious threw a huge ‘attention!’ sign at him, making him pause to understand what his gut was trying to tell him.

yeonjun wanted to leave—his house was nearby, and he could make coffee himself and maybe grab an ice cream tub from the convenience store on the way there. but you looked… wrong. something was wrong about you. he felt like it took him a few eternities to realize you were uncomfortable—he rarely saw you like this, you were always at ease with him, barely ever tense, nervous or anxious, but you were all of those now, and he knew he couldn't leave you like that. he had to make sure you were safe, if your date turned out to be a creep, not to mention his umbrella was the only one in the stand, meaning you didn't bring yours, and the rain wouldn't stop until tomorrow morning. 

he took his jacket off, purposefully hanging it on the floor hanger next to yours—even closer than the jacket of your date. you noticed it with the corner of your eyes, despite looking at jaeyong and trying not to make him suspicious. you knew yeonjun was making a statement with it—”i'm here, i'm next to you, i'm not going anywhere”—even though he was clearly upset with you. you could see it perfectly. he wasn't upset with you very often, but you had seen it enough when it came to other people getting on his nerves.

but you still felt at ease just from seeing yeonjun deciding not to leave you alone. he noticed it too—maybe he rarely ever saw you uncomfortable, but the relief written all over your face and body was a stark contrast to the way you looked when he first walked in. he barely glanced at the cashier while ordering his usual—iced americano and mint choco ice cream—his gaze never leaving you even when you weren’t looking at him directly. he knew you could still see him over your date’s shoulder. 

yeonjun chose a place to sit with the same intent—he took a table in the corner just near the counter, positioning himself so you could see him fully without it being obvious, and so he could keep you in his sight. he was thankful the three of you were the only people in the cafe, allowing him to hear every little thing your date said to you—and he sounded like a misogynistic piece of shit. yeonjun wanted nothing more than to just drag you away from the man. no woman should ever listen to something like that. he shook the thought ‘especially mine’ away—you weren’t his anymore. never had been. 

it was taking you too long to end the date, when you obviously weren't interested, yeonjun noticed after fifteen more minutes of listening to more of that asshole’s bullshit. then it hit him—this might be the first time you were dealing with a douchebag like that one, and you had no idea how to handle it. yeonjun’s palms pressed against the table, ready to stand, when he heard something that made his blood boil.

“are you a virgin, by the way? should have asked you from the start.” 

your hands froze on your cup. what did he just ask? was it that important? you didn’t know how to respond. no, of course, you knew that you weren’t one, but the question felt absurd—something no one should ask on the first date unless it really mattered to them. and if it did… he probably wasn’t concerned about taking your virginity, you doubted he thought it was too much of a bother, or that he was looking for an experienced woman only. he wanted a virgin.

why it’s taking you so long to tell him to fuck off, gosh! yeonjun groaned internally, stomping toward your table. he grabbed your wrist, fingers digging into your skin—gesture comforting for both you and yeonjun in some weird way. with a sharp tug, he pulled you out of your seat, not even sparing a glance at the piece of shit you were on a date with—yeonjun knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from punching that asshole if he so much as looked at him. he didn’t say anything to you either—not because he didn’t want to, but because he was afraid of what might spill out in his frustration and anger.

but you didn’t need him to say anything—you followed him obediently to the coat rack, where he grabbed both of your jackets in one hand. he pulled you toward the exit, throwing a short ‘umbrella’ over his shoulder, and you grabbed it from the stand, turning back only to offer the cashier an apologetic smile and a small nod goodbye. he knew you two, often being the one on the shift when you visited the cafe, and while that behaviour wasn’t regular for you two, he’d overheard the conversation and understood what was happening. he was ready to step in if needed, but he was relieved he didn’t have to, because it could have costed him his job. 

yeonjun held the door for you, even though he was still holding your wrist and pulling you outside himself, and you realized he never had to try hard to be a gentleman—he always was one. he stopped under the canopy next to the window, making sure you were protected from the rain until he could open the umbrella and take you home—he turned his back to the wind, shielding you from the cold raindrops, blocking them from hitting you, his jacket hung over his shoulder carelessly freeing his hands so he could put your jacket on you.

his actions weren't gentleman-like—he didn’t hold your jacket, gracefully standing behind your back and carefully pulling it up your arms until it was fully on. yeonjun was sharp with his movements, almost yanking the umbrella from your hand and hooking it over his forearm, as he put the jacket behind you waiting for you to put your arms into the sleeves, trapping you between it and himself. you weren’t against it though, feeling safe for the first time in hours, and feeling like home for the first time in almost a month, as you felt him pull it up sharply to cover your back and shoulders before grabbing his own jacket. 

you took the umbrella from yeonjun and opened it, holding it behind his back to shield him from the rain as he slipped into his jacket. he glanced at you, surprised, but you met his gaze with a soft smile, happy to be near him again and trying not to think about the conversation awaiting for you at his apartment—it wouldn’t be nice, it would be the one that would end everything between you two. so for now you wanted to enjoy the little warmth and care you had for each other while it lasted, you were going to burn each one of his words into your brain and each of his touch into your skin, so you could hear and feel it for months.

yeonjun took the umbrella back—much softer already—when he was done with the jacket, holding it between your bodies to cover you both from the rain before stepping out of the canopy and walking you to his apartment. despite him trying his best to navigate the umbrella so you were protected from the cold rain, he noticed the shoulder that was further from him getting wet—the wind was too strong, and even though the umbrella was huge, you had to be closer to him to get a bit more covered. he would have easily held the umbrella over you only, going under the rain himself, but he knew you would never let him, he always had to agree with your stubbornness when it came to his well-being. 

“wrap your arm around my waist,” yeonjun said, realizing he sounded sharper than he intended. he was still upset about the way you just sat there listening to bullshit about women’s worth being measured in amount of children and how much she served her husband. he knew it didn’t make sense to be mad at you, because it wasn't your fault in the slightest, but there was something much bigger. 

you were on a date. with someone else. 

you had distanced yourself from him after the expired pregnancy test incident, not letting him in no matter how much he tried to make you talk to him, and he started shutting down too. you both had suffered for weeks like that until everything ended with some stupid text message about the hoodie you lost, asking him if it was at his place. and then, three weeks later, he found you having a date with some asshole at the cafe he started considering as a place for the two of you only. yeonjun knew it was his rule to not catch feelings, he knew he was being unfair to you by feeling that way, but he couldn’t stop the frustration spiraling inside of him.

even the way you wrapped your arm around his waist like he told you to, your hand holding the side of his jacket, didn’t help. he still put his hand over yours, interlacing fingers with yours and putting your hands together into his pocket, though—the place your hand was at was constantly under rain, and he didn’t want you to get cold, no matter how upset he was. or how much it went against any rules you seemed so determined to follow, yet failed to uphold. he was breaking them, and you were letting him—just like now, not pulling your hand away from his grasp. did you even remember there was a rule against intimate touches like this one?

were you breaking the rules on purpose too, just like he was? were you capable of breaking the most important one—the one that was about being exclusive? yeonjun’s jaw tightened as he threw a quick glance at you, when he felt your steps falter slightly for a moment. he thought that you might stumble, but instead you made a small, quick step instead of a regular one to match his stride. you did it often—not falling into step with him, but adjusting yourself to match him like it was natural for you, effortless. now, though, it seemed like you were ready to just throw it all away as something you didn’t need anymore. his throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, his grip on your hand tightening briefly before he caught himself and loosened it.

yeonjun had noticed how much you’d changed these few months before the pregnancy test, when he started changing too—you’d become softer with him, a bit more reserved, but still softer. you had also grown more obedient—not that you hadn’t been before, but now you seemed to do what he wanted or needed without him having to say anything most of the time. it was probably another way you adjusted yourself for him. but he had to be too cautious around you, holding back his own softness and tenderness sometimes, because you had developed a habit of pulling away when he was too gentle. he couldn’t get his head around you, and holding back and overthinking were tiring.

and then he had said he wouldn’t leave if you were pregnant, words about marriage slipping out on its own. his only intention was to calm you down—he wasn't lying, of course. he was ready to take responsibility, to support and love you and the baby if it came to that. but it felt like he had ruined everything. this time, though, he was sure he knew why. he knew you didn’t want children—not yet, at least—and though you two never had never discussed anything like marriage, he assumed you weren’t interested in a long-term relationship either, and he only pushed you away with his words, making you seek someone who would be able to keep ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement as it was supposed to be. 

and now? now, you were here, arm wrapped around his waist, your hand warm, nice and gentle in his, fingers interlaced. you weren’t just letting him hold you close—you were holding onto him too. you weren’t simply allowing him to hold your hand; you held it just as tight, your thumb brushing against his skin, and yeonjun wasn’t sure if you were doing it on purpose or not. you two looked like a couple, yet to him, it felt more like a cruel echo of something that could have been but was never destined to happen—he clenched his teeth, irritation bubbling in his chest at the way you played push and pull with him now. 

yeonjun could still picture your eyes when you realized he chose to stay in the cafe instead of leaving you alone with that asshole. you had looked at him like he was your saviour—as if he’d been the knight who swooped in to save the princess, despite the ‘knight’ looking like he had just woken up after thirteen hours of sleep on the couch, throwing on a jacket and shoes over the hoodie and sweatpants he was sleeping in, to grab coffee at the cafe nearby. but knights never got princesses, did they? no, that was reserved for princes. knights were just tools that came in handy when princesses needed to use someone. knights were disposable. 

was he just the lesser evil for you back there? would you have pretended he wasn’t there if your date hadn’t turned out to be such a creep? part of him was convinced you would have, despite the rational part of his brain trying to make him realize it wasn’t like you at all. why would you follow him to his place instead of asking him to get you to the nearest subway station? why would you hold his hand like this? why would you seem so relaxed beside him now? because she wants to toy with me some more, yeonjun thought bitterly, yanking your hands out of his pocket and letting go of yours. 

you looked up at him, surprised, already missing the warmth of his touch—the short walk hadn’t been enough for that warmth to burn itself into your skin the way you needed it to, but if he thought it was enough… you held yourself back from reaching for his hand again—he was clearly upset with you, and you didn't want to play with fire. you weren't sure why he would bring you here then, though. no, it was obvious he just didn't want to cause a scene outside, but was there any point in in trying to talk things through if the end result was the same—breaking up… whatever you had?

yeonjun yanked the front door of the building open, following you right behind to hold the umbrella over you until you were safely inside, shielded from the rain. he shook the raindrops off harshly, closing the umbrella and standing a few feet away from you, facing the elevators after checking that you had pressed the button. he turned his head slightly, avoiding even a glance at you from the corner of his eyes—it was too painful and too irritating at the same time. the silence hung heavily, and he exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when the elevator doors opened with a quiet ‘ding’. he stepped aside to let you enter first, following after and pressing the button for his floor, turning his back to you immediately. 

you thought nothing could make an elevator ride with yeonjun longer and more unbearable than wanting to have your hands all over each other already, but having to limit yourselves to subtle touches because of the elevator cameras. but now, awkwardness and yeonjun's simmering anger stretched the seconds into eternity. you pressed yourself into the corner, silently wishing it'd just swallow you, your eyes trailing yeonjun standing before the doors, refusing to look at you. your gaze fell to the nape of his neck—his hair was so short there now… he had kept the bangs, and had shortened hair on top of his head just a bit—it still covered his temples, but you could see hair there was just as short when he ran his fingers through it, which he did often. tips of your fingers itched to touch it, but you held back—you couldn't do things like that anymore.

the little screen finally displayed yeonjun's floor number, and you moved forward at the same time as he stepped aside to give you room to leave the elevator. the ‘ladies first’ gesture would have been flattering if it wasn't for his step being a little too big, as if he was trying to keep as much distance as the small space allowed. it hurt, even though his intentions to stay away from you were obvious by the way he was keeping his distance in the hall. you still couldn’t understand why he brought you here—you could as well finish everything in ugly way through messages, there was no need to see each other’s faces.

you exited the elevator, stepping aside to let yeonjun go first—you no longer had the keys, they were left dangling on the key rack in his apartment some time before the last conversation. you weren’t sure why you had done it, though—he had never made you feel unwelcome there, but once again, you had done lots of stupid things lately, once that felt right at the time, but grew increasingly stupid with every second you thought about it, so you decided to simply stop thinking about everything you did. childish? pretty much, but compared to watching yourself destroy everything with your own hands, it felt like the lesser evil.

yeonjun opened the door, letting you step inside first, and locked it behind you. he placed the umbrella in its stand and crouched down to undo his shoes, still not saying a word to you. his mind was restless, every glance at you sinking another dagger into his chest and fueling his anger. you stood before him, your legs right in front of his eyes, your short sundress—one of his favourites, the one you started wearing more often after he told you he loved the way it looked on you—barely covering any skin, especially from his current angle. he jerked his head downward, jaw tightening. his favourite dress… on a date… in his favourite cafe… with some misogynistic asshole. 

yeonjun stood up and made a few steps further into the apartment, his socks slipping slightly against the floor. he shrugged off his damp jacket carelessly, hanging it on the hook, before finally turning to look at you. his gaze caught the mirror on the inside of the door over your shoulder though, and he double-checked his reflection instinctively. he had cut his hair just a few days ago and still couldn’t get used to the way he looked. his own reflection felt like a stranger, whenever he saw it with the corner of his eyes. there was no long hair he had been growing out for a year anymore. he decided to go back to the undercut he had as his go-to hairstyle for a few years before meeting you. his hair already started growing out when you met, and somehow, when you stayed in his life as his friend with benefits he let it keep growing, trimming it from time to time a bit. 

and when you left… yeonjun wasn’t sure why he had cut it. maybe it was an attempt to return the person he had been before meeting you—someone less broken, less hollow, no matter how stupid it sounded if he thought about it for more than a minute. not even because his hairstyle and your presence hadn’t been the only things different from the past—too many things had changed this year—but because it’d never be enough to erase every reminder of you from his life, which had been the real reason of him cutting his hair off, even though he refused to admit it to himself even. he hadn’t even done anything else, cutting his hair was the only thing that he had done, because he couldn’t get rid of other little things that reminded him of you. and ridiculously enough, the undercut became another reminder—he thought of you whenever he saw his reflection or touched his hair. 

yeonjun tore his gaze away from the mirror, finally looking at you. you were standing near the door, your jacket and shoes still on, leaving faint, wet marks on the doormat, your hands fidgeting with the clasp of your purse. you looked so small, so vulnerable, like someone who needed to be protected every moment of their life. he couldn’t believe you had gone on a date with a stranger—with some jerk, who just saw you—or any woman—as an incubator, but the incubator had to be a virgin, of course, of course. it sounded ridiculous and disgusting even in his own head, and yet you had been sitting there, listening to all that bullshit, like it was completely fine. 

“why didn’t you say anything?” the words came out bitter and sharp, yeonjun wasn’t even going to ask that—he knew why and he knew it wasn’t your fault, but the words left his mouth before he could think about it. his fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms as he tried to keep his voice steady, though he knew it was a losing battle. “back there. to that asshole.” 

you frowned, looking up at him in confusion. he knew why you hadn’t said anything, why you hadn’t done anything. he had stayed and stepped in exactly because he knew. did he want you to say it out loud? to admit that you had been absolutely helpless and would have had to ask the cashier for help if things escalated? to confess that you would have kept listening to all that misogynistic trash if he hadn’t dragged you out? 

“because i didn’t know what to say,” you responded quietly, your nails biting into your palms. “if it wasn’t for you—”

something snapped in yeonjun at the sound of your voice after three weeks of only hearing it in old voice messages. he appeared before you in just a few swift steps, pressing your back into the mirror on the inside of the front door with one smooth motion—you couldn't even comprehend what happened until you felt a sharp bite on the side of your neck and his cold hand, the one that had been holding the umbrella, running up your thigh, leaving faint red lines with nails and lifting the skirt of your sundress before delivering a hard, sharp slap to your skin. you yelped and jerked, never expecting it, arms wrapping around his shoulders, but he only pressed you harder into the front door with his body, thigh pushing between your legs, and his second hand finding its place on your breast, kneading it roughly.

it was far from the first time something similar happened—yeonjun had gone through a stressful period when you both decided to try the ‘friends with benefits’ agreement, and you found yourself with your face pressed against a random surface as he pounded you into it until your legs were sore, quite often. the front door too, of course—it had been a favourite of his in the beginning, chosen for its speed and convenience. but that was the thing—in the beginning. later, you admitted it was far from your favourite place—the mirror was uncomfortably cold at first and then weirdly warm under your cheek, chest or shoulder blades, and it made a weird screeching sound whenever your skin rubbed against it, and you couldn't stop thinking about people passing by. it had been the last time you had sex or even made out there. until now.

yeonjun didn't leave a small gentle kiss over the bite on your neck too, his hand didn't linger to soothe the slapped skin of your thigh, even for a moment. he jerked your skirt up too sharply, cursing at the way it got in the way between his thigh and your crotch, and when he finally managed to pull it high enough to his liking, he slapped your thigh once again to silently command you to lift your leg over his waist—instead of wrapping his fingers around your thigh and lifting it himself like he had started doing not so long ago. you loved when he was like that back then, loved all of it, but now, compared to the way you knew he could be with you, it was almost devastating. 

deep inside you hoped to have sex with him just one last time before your paths parted for good, but this… this wasn’t what you expected, not what you wanted. you didn’t want to feel like you were back to square one, no matter how hot he looked now or had been in the beginning, because back then you were nothing to each other—except ‘friends with benefits’. yeonjun meant much more for you now, and deep down, you hoped you had grown to mean more to him too, but perhaps you didn’t know him well enough to know what his mixed signals meant. 

yeonjun cursed breathlessly into the skin of your shoulder, and it was the first time since he pushed you into the mirror that he allowed himself to touch your skin with his lips alone, without using his teeth. just that simple gesture made him dizzy—being tender with you again. he had another problem, though—no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't seem to get fully hard. yeonjun had no idea why—you finally were next to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, as he marked you like it was the last time— it was, he realized. it was the last time, and he couldn’t even fuck you properly so you wouldn’t think of anyone else no matter how much other men tried to please you. it irritated him even more, but he hoped his thigh would suffice—he had always been able to make you cum on it easily. 

you heard another curse from him, barely heard over your racing thoughts. you were far from understanding the reason behind it—probably something about you again. was it better than nothing? better than just having an awkward conversation about ending the arrangement and never seeing each other ever again? never— you couldn’t hold back the sniffle, your nose starting to burn as tears welled up in your eyes. you put your palms on yeonjun’s shoulders. no. you didn’t want to remember your last encounter like this, because you remembered the way your sexual encounters ended in the very beginning. one of you—the one who was a ‘guest’—would dress up in silence, get a taxi for themselves and leave the apartment, shutting the door for the other one to lock later. that didn’t last long, but if he was back to the very beginning… you knew you wouldn’t be able to leave his bed. 

another quiet sniffle left you, as you tried to push yeonjun away by his shoulders. “yeonjun, please,” your voice was too quiet, too small—you weren’t even sure if he had heard you, and even if he did, he might misinterpret it as you asking for more, because he pressed you harder into the mirror, rubbing his thigh against your crotch. “jjun, s-stop,” you sobbed out, fingers digging into the fabric of his hoodie, silently begging him to put an end to this confusing, heart-wrenching encounter.

yeonjun froze at the nickname said like that—with a sob—his body tense. had he hurt you?.. had he ruined everything? of course, he did, what a failure he was. he failed himself, but it didn’t matter because he failed you so much more. “i’m sorry, baby,” yeonjun whispered into your skin one last time before moving away and turning his back to you. he couldn’t look at you—not now, not like this. he didn’t deserve to. he was glad you stopped him before he went too far, because he knew he’d break if he continued, but he was too stubborn to stop on his own. to end everything himself too. 

you stood frozen behind him, his absence hitting you like a blow despite you being the one who pushed him away, a gaping hole replaced his presence. it wasn’t just your body that felt cold; it seeped into your skin, into your bones. you’d never felt so empty in your life. it wasn’t fair. none of this was fair. was that it? the end? were you supposed to turn around, open the door, and leave, acting like nothing had ever happened? was that what yeonjun expected you to do? not even a ‘goodbye’?.. you stared at his back, not being able to believe he wouldn’t turn around to at least look at you one last time. 

but even with all the confusion and insecurity, you didn’t want to leave. the thought of walking out that door, of leaving him behind, felt like tearing a piece of yourself away. you weren’t ready to let go, weren’t ready to forget everything. the only thing that was holding you back from telling him it was certainty that yeonjun wanted you to leave, but maybe—just maybe—there was a tiny possibility that he wanted you to stay? maybe finding someone else for this kind of relationship was too bothersome for his busy life? maybe you could push your feelings away?

yeonjun’s mind raced just as much, each second of silence stretching unbearably long. the absence of any sound from you was deafening. were you going to leave? why hadn’t you left already if you wanted to, so he could mourn his heart in peace? maybe you didn’t want to— he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. stop being an idiot, yeonjun. of course, she does. he wanted to turn around and tell you that he didn’t want you to leave, that he didn’t want it to end, wanted to promise you to keep everything in the ‘friends with benefits’ limits, never breaking any rules ever again. but words stuck in his throat, weighed down by the fear of rejection, of hearing you say out loud that you didn’t want him anymore.

his heart shattered when he heard the sound of the door being unlocked. this was finally it—the moment he’d feared. you pulled the door handle down, and… and he didn’t hear the door open. you didn’t open the door, but you didn’t let go of the handle either, frozen right before the final step. you knew he wouldn’t go after you—if you left now, it would be the end. you looked down at your fingers wrapped around the shiny metal. no. it was unfair, it was wrong—too many things you left unsaid, and he could be the same. you tried to think for him, assume what he wanted, and it was wrong. and even if he  just laughed in your face, it wouldn’t make your heartbreak much worse anyway. 

you let go of the door handle, letting it click back into place, and turned to yeonjun. he didn’t look back, didn’t turn around, but you noticed he was even more tense than before—probably not knowing what to expect. you cleared your throat, but it didn’t help, because your small “is this the end?” was barely audible, all the confidence you’d mastered just a few seconds ago disappearing the moment you opened your mouth to ask something that felt like it’d seal your fate.

but yeonjun heard it, of course, he did. he’d been waiting to hear your voice from the moment he turned away. he had to almost force himself to shut his damn mouth before he said ‘yes’, thinking it'd be best for you to stay away from someone as broken as him. you deserved to hear an honest response, even if your reaction to it broke his heart. yeonjun knew he had to stop deciding what was best for you—you were an adult, capable of making your own mistakes. if you let him stay in your life, he would simply help you deal with the consequences if you needed it. and maybe staying with him wasn’t even a mistake in the first place. 

yeonjun turned around and it felt like he hadn’t seen you for the whole eternity. he knew you hadn't left, but seeing you there… he wanted nothing more than to hold you and never let go. but he couldn’t. and he couldn’t say the truth openly either—he was afraid to influence your decision if he said he didn’t want it to end, so he tried to phrase it differently. “if you want to,” yeonjun knew it wasn’t his best, far from one actually, but it was better than anything he could come up with—much better than ‘yes, it is’. you didn’t reply, though, staring at him like your head was completely empty, panic rising in your expression. yeonjun swallowed thickly. “do you want to leave?” he asked, trying to help you.

the answer was so simple, just two letters—’no’. but somehow, every little thing about that short word was so complicated, and it was stuck on your tongue, because just ‘no’ wouldn’t be enough to explain everything. but yeonjun was waiting, and even though he tried his best not to show how anxious he was to hear your answer, you could tell he was. “i don’t know,” the words left your mouth before you could think them through. it was a lie, a goddamn lie. you knew! you knew you didn’t want to leave, why in the world would you say you didn’t? 

yeonjun watched the whole kaleidoscope of emotions on your face, and none of them were positive. you looked on the verge of tears even. this was the moment he realized he had changed, because the storm in his heart had finally calmed, and he knew everything he needed to know. it wasn’t even because your face had told him that your words weren’t what you actually meant, but because in the past, he’d have gotten frustrated, angry even because it wasn’t a clear ‘no’. but now? now, even if you really didn’t know, he could only feel a wave of calmness wash over him, because he couldn’t see it as anything except ‘not a yes’. 

you saw the tension leave yeonjun’s body—his posture relaxed and his face softened—and that’s when you realized you’d fucked up bad. he didn’t like unclear answers, always trying to guide you to give him a certain one. unsure about trying something new? he’d say he’d start slowly until you got your head around it and told him explicit yes or no. confused about your feelings? he’d listen to your unstructured stream of thoughts, gently guiding it when you got lost, until you could give him an answer. but now? now he was probably too tired of your shit to do any of that. 

yeonjun approached you in a few huge steps, towering over you—you felt smaller than you actually were, looking at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to expect. was he going to open the door and tell you to get out? you pressed yourself against it, palms flat on the cool surface of the mirror you hated touching, the uncomfortable feeling only worsening the anxiety in your chest. he raised his hand and you turned your head slowly to follow the movement with your eyes, your insides twisting in anxiety—you should have left instead of asking that stupid question, because maybe there could’ve been a chance to start over a few months from now, but you had ruined it with that stupid ‘i don’t know’.

you looked adorable when you were scared, yeonjun realized. a flicker of a smirk crossed his mind—maybe he should introduce you to some fear play. he slapped himself mentally—he was so relieved that you hadn’t left, that his mind started wandering, and it clearly wasn’t time for that. his hand reached for the lock, fingers curling around it, and he turned it slowly, the click loud in the tense air. his gaze stayed fixed on your face—he wanted to see your reaction. maybe he was petty, but only a little, and you weren’t entirely innocent either. 

and he was right to do it. your eyes shot up to meet his the second you heard the lock engage, surprise and disbelief flickering across your face, your gaze darted between his eyes as if trying to find cruel mockery in them, but there was none. instead, yeonjun took a small step back from you, his fingers brushing the back of your hand so feathery, that it could’ve been easily mistaken for an accident, but it wasn’t one. he needed at least a little touch, even that one grounding him, giving him strength to hold up until he could hold you in his arms properly—somehow, he was certain that’s how the day would end. 

“let’s go,” he said softly, choosing his tone carefully to avoid sounding harsh or scolding—adding to your anxiety was the last thing he wanted to do. “i’ll make us tea, and we will talk.”

you nodded hesitantly, watching his back as yeonjun left to the kitchen. it was a good sign, wasn’t it?.. you felt glued to the door, needing all your strength to peel yourself away. slowly, you removed your jacket, still unsure if he truly hadn’t told you to leave. your hands shook as you hung it on an empty hook beside his jackets, your gaze drifted to the key rack—the spare keys you had for months still dangling where you put them. you sat on the bench to undo your shoes, throwing a quick glance toward the kitchen through the archway—you couldn't see yeonjun, but you could hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing, the kettle filling with water and other little things. the noises brought comfort, feeling like home. 

your legs felt like jelly as you made your way to the bar stool behind him, your nails tapping nervously on the polished surface of the bar table . yeonjun sent you a little smile over his shoulder before turning back and continuing whatever he was doing. you assumed he was choosing which tea to make for you, and you decided not to interfere—he knew your favourites. and you were too awkward to tell him anything too, even just asking for a specific kind of tea felt… out of place.  

yeonjun opened a cabinet to grab a cup for you, and your eyes landed on all the familiar dishes—your cups, plates, and bowls still sat neatly alongside his. he hadn’t put them away when you stopped coming over all those weeks ago. you looked around the kitchen and the living room—everything still looked like you were living there. you hadn’t noticed it in the hallway, too shaken to pay any attention to it, but now you realized he kept a few hooks empty for your outerwear and bags, the spot you always took on the shoe rack wasn’t taken either, and even the spare keys to his apartment still had your keychain on them. 

your gaze stopped on the fridge, colourful letters bright on the glassy black surface. you couldn’t believe it still was there—’yeonjun dummy <3’, the playful phrase you made two or three months ago with letter magnets he bought for his little nephew—sometimes yeonjun’s cousin needed him to look after the boy and dropped the baby off at his place, and yeonjun wanted to be the best uncle ever, teaching the child all the little things like colours, animals and letters. you had been helping too sometimes, and you realized now how strange it probably looked—helping him play house with a toddler as though the two of you were a family. you shook your head trying to get rid of the thoughts. your gaze drifted lower—yeonjun’s response was still there too—’you too :p���.

so many little things stayed the same despite your absence, all of them so tiny you could barely notice unless you were looking for them, yet it felt like you could move in right now, live here for a month and wouldn’t lack a thing, because yeonjun had kept everything just as it was when you were still there. he either didn’t care to change it, or… your apartment stayed the same too—he never stayed at yours for too long, but his tableware was still next to yours, his toothbrush and toothpaste still were in the cup with yours, his shampoo and shower gel sat on the shower rack with other things that belonged to him. looking at those reminders of him hurt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put them away. deep inside, you had hoped he would still come and stay at your place some day, and maybe he kept everything as it was because…

“i don’t want to, but if you want me to, i will,” you blurted out before you could overthink it. if you didn’t say it now, while your feelings were on the surface and at their peak, you would probably never say it.

yeonjun looked at you over his shoulder, confused. you didn't want to… drink tea?.. it wasn’t a problem, he assumed, still not really understanding why you would drink tea just because he wanted you to. he could make you a coffee. or a milkshake, or a smoothie, or just give you water. or he still had almost every one of your favourite drinks in his fridge—and out of it too, in case you didn’t want to drink anything cold. he glanced at the almost-finished tea on the counter in front of him. were you worried that he’d already made it, but now you wanted something else? he could drink it himself… he opened his mouth to ask what you wanted to drink instead, or maybe eat, but you clarified yourself.

“to leave,” you said, looking down at your fingers as you fidgeted nervously. “i don’t want to leave, but if you want me to, i will,” you repeated,  your voice grew quieter with every word, much less confident than it had been at the start—not that it was confident to begin with. you didn’t want to leave, didn’t want him to tell you to go, but if he thought it was better for him, you’d disappear from his life as if you had never been part of it.

yeonjun, on the other hand, felt warmth spreading through his whole body. he was one step away from grinning like a fool, smile bloomed on his face despite himself. yes, he had figured out you didn’t want to leave when you looked like you made the biggest mistake of your life by saying that you didn’t know if you wanted to leave or not. but hearing you say it out loud was completely different. “i don’t,” he said, turning to you with a smile, two cups of tea in his hands. “don’t want you to leave.”

you nodded slowly, watching him take a seat across from you and place your cup in front you. you still had a hard time believing he wanted you to stay. when you said you didn’t want to leave, you meant his life, not his apartment. did he understand what you meant? did he mean the same?.. you reached out to wrap your hands around the cup but jerked them back before touching it. you looked up at yeonjun, ashamed. “i haven’t washed my hands. can i… use the bathroom?” 

he tilted his head. you’d particularly lived here for some periods, why would you ask him something like that?.. “of course, you can,” yeonjun said like it was the most obvious thing—because it was. “there’s a hand soap too,” he gestured toward the kitchen sink, “along with a hand towel. as you know,” he chuckled, emphasising the last words. “feel at home, okay? nothing has changed.” he watched you get up with a quiet ‘okay’ and come up to the sink. yeonjun turned in his seat, watching you with a soft smile on his face. “but you can use bathroom if you need it for—”

“yeonjun!” you exclaimed, cutting him off and making him laugh—you thought you had missed that sound, but now you realized ‘miss’ didn’t cover it—your life just wasn't full without it. “i only need to wash my hands!” 

he replied with a teasing ‘mhm’, a smile wide on his face, and you couldn't help but smile back. the little light-hearted exchange made you relax a little—it reminded you both that despite the mess, you were still the same. you just weren't sure if ‘the mess’ had started three weeks ago or ten months ago, and the conversation that would clarify it was still waiting ahead. you bit your lip at the thought, sitting back down and wrapping fingers around the cup. 

yeonjun became serious too. he knew he'd have to be the one carrying the conversation, because his thoughts and feelings were clear and organized—he’d had three weeks to analyze everything, and your words today cleared the last fog, putting the final misplaced pieces in their places. you, on the other hand… you still looked confused, even after admitting you didn't want to leave and him saying he didn't want you to leave either. and with your habit of sweeping the worst of your feelings and thoughts under the rug and pretending they never existed, unless he lifted the rug himself, telling you to clean up and helping you with it… he assumed how exactly these three weeks had passed for you.

“do you mind if we focus on you at first?” yeonjun asked, his voice as soft as possible, as though speaking to a child or a frightened animal—he didn't want you to feel like he was scolding you for anything, no matter how much it hurt him. it was his fault too—he was the one who had drawn the line between you two with his stupid rules, resulting in you not being able to come to him when the thing burdening you was about him. the rules made sense at first, but he should’ve blurred them when he began suspecting you were slowly catching feelings, and discarded them completely when he realized he was catching feelings himself. he hadn’t, and it was a miracle you were sitting there in front of him now.

you shook your head, giving him all the control. not only did you feel guilty enough to think you had no right to set the rules, but you were also lost—unsure of what to say, where to start, or what he wanted to know the most. you decided to let him lead you through it, answering his questions to the best of your capability and honesty. you only hoped he wouldn't start with something like ‘what do you feel for me’ or anything similar, because you knew you wouldn't be able to give him an answer—you barely admitted it to yourself, saying it out loud… to him…

yeonjun smiled. “okay. but be honest, please.” he waited for your nod before continuing. he prayed he wouldn't sound like he was interrogating you. “it was a date, right? not just a friendly meeting?” he cursed internally—he sounded exactly like he was interrogating you. now he prayed you wouldn't see it that way, because it wasn’t meant to be an interrogation—he just needed to know what you were looking for when you went on the date. 

you nodded, eyes glued to the cup in your hands. you felt ashamed—like a cheater, for god's sake. you opened your mouth to explain, but found your throat dry. you took a tiny sip—perfect strength, perfect sweetness, perfect temperature. how could you do something like this to someone who cared about you so much? you were a failure… you swallowed thickly. “yes. i met him on tinder a few days ago,” you mumbled quietly, too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “i think i swiped right on him accidentally…”

yeonjun nodded, his eyes trailing to your fingers, which were tapping nervously on the cup. he knew the tea would be cold long before you finished it, he’d made it for you to give you something to busy your hands with, somewhere to look when you couldn’t look at him. his gaze returned to your face. good thing? the guy was an accident. bad thing? you were on tinder. he bit his lip, trying to phrase the next question. he assumed you were looking for another ‘friend with benefits’, but he couldn't just ask you outright. the question would be far more prying than the previous one. “why did you decide to go on tinder? decided to meet someone, i mean.” 

you looked up at him quickly before staring into the cup again. the full answer would be long—you would have to start with the pregnancy test and touch on too many sensitive topics you weren't ready to confront yet. maybe a shorter version would suffice?.. “i realized i should… settle down,” you said quietly. “i don't exactly mean marriage or—all the more so—children, but…,” you exhaled sharply—how to phrase it without insulting him and what you had? ‘serious’? ‘real’? ‘something that has a future’? you bit your lip. “committed relationship.”

it felt like a punch to the gut for yeonjun—it wasn't what he expected. he thought he’d scared you away by promising to be with you, promising something real, and you didn't need it, he assumed that you were looking for sex without strings attached. it made sense—the perfect sense—until it turned out to be exactly opposite. you wanted something real, something serious—not just sex here and there—but you wanted it with someone else, not him. what are you doing here now, then? he thought bitterly, a lump forming in his throat, his fingers digging into his own cup. he didn't know how to ask you why it couldn't be him, nor was he sure he was ready to hear the answer. 

you bit your lip harder at his silence, realizing that in the end you had insulted him. everything felt so difficult, every small thing adding layers of complication to an already overwhelming situation. you took a deep breath—there was nothing left to lose. it was impossible to make things worse—they were already at their lowest. you might as well finish what you started. “when the—” you coughed, your throat dry again, and took a sip, though you knew it wouldn't make your voice any better. “when the test turned out to be false positive, i realized that… what we had was… dangerous. risky. it turned out to be false, but what if one day…,” you shook your head. “i realized it'd be safer in… a proper relationship. and i can't have it with you,” you finished quietly. 

yeonjun wondered where that cruelty came from, because you’d driven a knife into his heart earlier, and now, with these words, you twisted it . he tried to wet his lips, but his tongue was just as dry. why were you like that? why hadn't you just left? why had you stayed—to hurt him more? but most importantly, why couldn't you have that with him. “why?” he asked, his voice hoarse, the word leaving his lips before he could think about it. he wasn't even sure what he wanted to know. everything, maybe? he wanted to look at you, but he couldn't, his eyes glued to his trembling hands—why in the world would he get his hopes up?

you felt stupid—not for what you had said already, but for what you were about to say. suddenly, the reason behind everything seemed so small, insignificant and utterly foolish. you would think it was impossible to make everything worse, but you clearly did exactly that right after thinking the very same thing just a minute ago. you wished you weren't such a disaster, ruining everything you touched. but you had to answer; he had asked you to be honest. “the rule,” you whispered, shutting your eyes in shame.

“the rule—” yeonjun repeated involuntarily, even quieter, as if unsure whether he’d heard you right. but he had, and he almost growled at the realization. the fucking rule—he clenched his hand around the cup holding himself back from hurling it into the wall. he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging it at the roots in frustration. one fucking rule—he almost slapped himself. calm the fuck down, yeonjun, he growled at himself mentally. he’d assumed again, he’d thought of the rule that would be the best, that would mean happy ending, but you hadn’t specified which rule—there were a few. ‘strictly exclusive’ could be the reason too. what if you wanted an open relationship? he could never share you with anyone. “which?” he choked out, his hand gripping the cup harder.

you looked up at him and flinched—yeonjun looked furious. his hair was messy, his jaw clenched tightly, his fingers digging into the cup to the point of becoming white at the tips. and the way he looked at you… like you were the reason for all his anger. if eyes could kill… but you were the reason. and you could only do one thing now—answer. “the ‘no feelings’ one,” you whispered, your own hands tightening around the cup. but unlike yeonjun, you weren't angry—you were terrified, because you knew where this conversation was heading, and it would inevitably end with a confession.

yeonjun decided to stop thinking altogether. he couldn't keep hurting himself by getting his hopes up anymore—he didn't even believe your answer meant ‘i have feelings for you, but i'm scared to go against the rule’. he was sure there was something he’d overlooked because he was too fucking full of hope and it made him dumb. he cleared his throat. “if it wasn't for the rule, would you consider a serious relationship with me?” it felt like he’d poured the last of his strength into the question. just answer it and let me go to bed. or get drunk. just don't complicate it, i beg you. 

the word ‘yes’ refused to leave your lips. not because you weren't sure or the answer was ‘no’—you were sure and the answer was undoubtedly ‘yes’. but as you looked at yeonjun, his gaze barely focused and his whole demeanor so, so tired, you hesitated. was that what he wanted to hear? you didn’t know anything anymore. “would you?”

you’re deciding to complicate it after all, yeonjun thought bitterly, feeling the weight of exhaustion slowly creeping over him. he couldn't do it anymore. this emotional rollercoaster had drained him completely, leaving him beyond exhausted in every way. fuck it, he thought. i'll be a man. he was just too tired for another round of mental gymnastics. “yes.”

you froze. ‘yes’? he said ‘yes’? was he too tired to understand the question? should you ask another time but clarify it? should you— fuck it. no, just fuck it. you’d play dumb later if needed. “me too.” 

yeonjun exhaled unevenly, resting his forehead on his palm. he couldn’t believe your answer, couldn’t believe this torture was finally over, and couldn’t believe he was so fucking drained, that he couldn’t even react properly to the fact that the woman he wanted to build a serious relationship with, wanted the same. he was a failure, a disappointment, and so many other things, none of them good. but if you stayed with him after what he was about to say, he would ask you to marry him on the spot. “we’re official, okay? i’ll…” he ran his fingers through his hair again. “i’ll make it up for you later. i promise,” he mumbled.

you nodded, tired too. you knew what he felt, because you felt the same when three more pregnancy tests had come back negative—emptiness, disbelief and bone-deep fatigue. it had felt like your world was so close to crashing down, that it started slowly breaking before anything real had even begun, and all the strength you had in yourself had been spent on trying not to let it break so early, so when it had turned out that nothing was going to be ruined, the damage—even the small one—was already done, and in addition to that you couldn’t even be happy about it, because it felt like all of your life force left your body long ago.

except, unlike him, you had someone to hold you through it all. yeonjun held you when you thought your world was burning to ashes and when you barely had any strength to sit up after knowing your world would be fine. but for him, you’d only added to his exhaustion and to the weight he carried—your awkwardness, your anxiety, your inability to think before speaking. and even when you did think, it never seemed to help. but he still wanted you, and you wouldn’t let your overthinking brain convince you otherwise. 

yeonjun stood and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling you towards the bedroom. the barely touched tea forgotten on the bar table, as he guided you through the apartment. he wasn’t sure if you nodded—he’d seen it with the corner of his eye, though, maybe he was mistaken because he was too tired, but he didn’t care because you followed him to the bed without hesitation, only pausing at the edge of it when he dropped onto the mattress, groaning at the pleasant feeling of stretching his limbs and letting his body finally relax. still, he had to open his eyes to look at you, when he realized you hadn’t joined him. 

you hesitated. the bed was unmade and yeonjun was still wearing the sweatpants and hoodie he’d had on outside earlier, but you weren't sure about lying there right in your sundress. it wasn’t a big deal in the past—mostly because usually you both were quick to undress each other, kicking the bed cover away on the floor—but a three week long break had left you a bit uncertain about even the simplest rules of the apartment. “i wore the dress outside…” you trailed off, glancing at him nervously.

yeonjun chuckled breathlessly—you were so cute, even if you were being slightly annoying when all he wanted was to hold you already. he wouldn’t even care if you wore a coat and boots right now. still, he already felt so much better, lighter, anticipating finally holding you and refusing to let you go, exhaustion melting away bit by bit. he propped himself up on his elbow and held out his hand for you. “i’ll undress both of us and make the bed later, after a little nap,” he murmured and moved closer to you, taking your hand in his and tugging it gently. “come here, baby. i missed you so much.”

you giggled softly—sound that felt foreign after weeks of not having any positive emotions or feelings—crawling toward him, knees sinking into the soft cloud-like mattress, as he held your hand, his hand firm, but tender, holding you up so you didn’t fall. you hovered over him, trying to suppress more silly giggles at the sight of his tired face having the same happy, silly smile. by all logic, you were supposed to be the one holding him, yet it felt like he wanted to hold you. you giggled again at the thought—he was so ridiculous. 

and you were right—yeonjun turned onto his back and gently tugged your hand, silently telling you to lie down beside him. his other hand unzipped the hoodie, and he slapped his chest over the tank top a few times, wordlessly showing you where to rest your head. you obliged happily, the whole world fading away the moment your cheek pressed against his firm chest and his arms wrapped securely around you. nothing else mattered anymore—not when you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feel the soft rise and fall of his breathing against the top of your head, and be held in a way that made one thing clear—he wasn’t going to let you go.

[fgumi]

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 my youth is free: to a fresh start

warning(s); written with a word count of 2,018

it didn’t matter if you knew donghyun for 6 years or dated him for 5. he always managed to give you butterflies, every single time. whether or not the butterflies you’re feeling now are good ones or just your breakfast threatening to spit back up, you’re not sure. you rounded the corner, taking a deep breath and counting to 10, before entering the cafe that used to be donghyun’s favorite casual date spot. or, maybe it still is his favorite spot. you shouldn’t speculate. clear heart, open mind.

you looked around and saw donghyun sitting in the center, right by the large fish tank that the cafe had as a divider. crazy how he always managed to get the most coveted spot in this large cafe.

his gaze followed one of the whiptail catfishes moving towards your direction. you guess that you caught the corner of his eyes because he straightened up and gave you a small wave.

oh crap. this is really happening. one foot over the other, y/n. breathe in, breathe out. it’s just donghyun. you know him. you’ve loved him for the past 5 years. you’ve been best friends for 6 years. he’s not going to suddenly turn into a stranger.

as you got closer, you took note of his glowy skin and warm eyes. good. he’s okay. well, i guess he would be okay. he broke up with you. are you okay? you’d like to think so. these past months weren’t all good. during the first month, you really did cry on your brother’s shoulder every night. woonhak was so patient with you, being so mature and wise. he even acted girly pop for you, so you could act like you’re venting to one of your girl friends who had grown frustrated with the topic.

but, little by little, you were able to face the day with a new appreciation. you attributed a lot of it to jaehyun and dongmin. their energy was infectious on and off the court. even without knowing about your recent breakup, they managed to be considerate of you and didn’t take offense when you shied away from them at times. on days where pick-up wasn’t in the cards for you, they’d understand and, sometimes, even offer to just hang out. it made you feel loved, despite them not saying it.

if the volleybrawlers (the name’s growing on you, you think) pulled you out of your sadness, you’d say dongmin gave you that final push towards normalcy. it wasn’t anything major, really. on the nights you found yourselves alone, your conversations would venture towards your past relationships and how they affected you. you found a lot of comfort from it. woonhak, for all that he tried, had never been in a relationship and couldn’t relate to you. but dongmin surprised you. he was more open than you thought he’d be. he listened to you intently when you’d ramble on about how you felt lost when donghyun broke up with you, reassuring you that you weren’t getting annoying by bringing it up all the time. as nights went on, the conversations changed. they moved away from relationships and settled on yourselves, your hobbies and aspirations.

you realized it one day—instead of venting, you were learning and sharing. it caught you by surprise, but it was nonetheless pleasant and satisfying. you were okay and you were getting better. the thought made you smile a little.

“where’d you go?”

your focus sharpened to donghyun’s curious face. “you got that faraway look you get when you’re thinking really hard,” he smiled, stirring his coffee. “i always wished i could follow you into your mind whenever you got those looks. your mind seems so cool to be in.”

as you raised an eyebrow, the ends of your lips twitched, wanting so desperately to smile at his dopey face. “you’re one to talk. i used to think you held the universe in your head with how spacy you were.”

“spacy? i don’t get it.” donghyun’s round eyes twinkled when he chuckled. “i never really got a lot of things about you, if i’m honest.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, ignoring the dull pang in your heart.

donghyun must still be able to read your microexpressions because he immediately looked apologetic. “oh, not in a bad way! sorry, i’m just–” he nervously laughed and ran his hand through his blond hair, exhaling. “a lot of my love for you stemmed from not understanding you. it’s like you defined coexistence for me. does that make sense? hold on, let me think.”

you stared at him as he tried to collect his thoughts, following his eyes to the lively fish tank next to you guys. “mmm, the best way i can explain it... you know how scientists haven’t even discovered 5% of the mariana trench?” he paused, glancing at you to make sure he wasn’t being confusing. you nodded, signaling him to continue. “but they stick to it because they’re fascinated by the little things they’re discovering. they’re not even concerned that, most likely, they won’t get to experience the mariana trench’s entirety in their lifetime. they just keep going, falling in love with everything they do get to experience... that’s what you were—are to me, my very own mariana trench—someone that i was going to keep exploring and falling in love with well after my death.”

a shine had taken to donghyun’s eyes when he rested them on you. you could feel tears blanketing your own eyes. you opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you—or, rather, you failed to even have words. what can you even say to that?

donghyun took a moment to blink back his tears before continuing. “but i got scared. school was getting a lot harder and, after my internship, i knew our relationship was starting to fall apart. it was unchartered territory for me. our entire relationship had been so free and easy up until that point. misunderstandings virtually stopped existing after our first year. you got me and i got you. so when our communication started faltering, i didn’t know what to do. as much as i wanted to do more for you and love us back to life, i couldn’t do it without sacrificing my plans and mental health. and… that’s when i knew i had to let you go. i wasn’t going to be the boyfriend you deserved while i knew you’d put in your 200% just to save us. that wasn’t something i could live with, y/n.”

you shut your eyes and let the tears fall. you took quiet, shallow breaths to avoid attracting too much attention. unfortunately, eyes were inevitable considering you guys were sitting next to the cafe’s centerpiece. ruffling reached your ears. “here.”

your eyes fluttered open to see donghyun offering a pack of tissues. you reached out to take one when you noticed the design. it pained you all over again. it was one of the gifts you got him for your 5th anniversary—a specially designed tissue pack with your shared fish on it. you joked that, since you tend to cry a lot and donghyun always seemed to be scrambling to find tissues, he should have these on hand. you couldn’t believe he still carried them.

you wiped your tears away before taking a deep inhale. “i really don’t know what to say,” you said through a watery laugh. “you answered practically all the questions i had.”

donghyun returned it with his own weak chuckle. “the therapy—it’s got me communicating my feelings a lot better than we’re used to.”

we’re—we… how does one word manage to bring you so much comfort and riddle you with just as much ache?

“it’s doing you some good,” you smiled softly, your mindful breaths turning back into second nature. “you look… better.”

he nodded firmly, his eyes crinkling into crescents. “i think it’s the best decision i ever made for myself.”

you hummed, dropping your eyes to your half-empty cup. was this the closure you both needed? is it time to walk away forever? is that what this was for? why did you find yourself wanting to keep talking? god, you couldn’t help but miss him even though he was sitting right in front of you. you missed his quirks and ditziness, how in-sync you guys were about so many things.

“tell me what’s running through your head,” donghyun gently interrupted, leaning slightly forward as if you were trading secrets. you hesitated. was it healthy to miss him? after the time that’s passed? you bit your lip, slowly losing yourself to your thoughts again. donghyun dug into his pocket again and produced chapstick, handing it to you. you subconsciously applied it, not biting your lip anymore, when you realized what just happened.

“why did you hand me this?” you asked confused. donghyun smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “you never bite your lips after you apply chapstick so i carried around your favorite for you to use. i was gonna give it to you today before we parted ways…”

and there it was. the impending goodbye. the approaching end credits. you knew this was inevitable. you prepared yourself for this all of yesterday. so why, after all the time apart and spending it with new people, did you find it hard to let him go? it wasn’t like you wanted to get back together with him. you knew that was a no-no. you and woonhak talked about it in lengths. heck, even you and dongmin talked about it after what happened with gawon. so why did it feel like a part of your soul would go with him when he leaves?

donghyun waved his hand in front of you, his face peaking from behind it. “y/n? come back down to earth, silly.”

you gently grabbed his hand and pushed it down. “donghyun… what happens now?”

when your eyes met, you could feel the tears welling up again so you turned to the fish tank, counting all the fish inside. you felt him grab your hand and brush your knuckles with his thumb. “what do you want to happen?”

your lips quivered a bit. what did you want to happen? you didn’t want to lose him. not forever. but you also didn’t want to add on to his stress. you didn’t want to add onto your own, not when everything was getting better. “i want whatever is best for you, whatever will help you succeed and do all you want in this life.”

“mmm, can i ask what you’ve been thinking about?” donghyun asked.

you hesitated, glancing over at your ex, but the encouragement on his face helped you swallow your fear. “i was thinking about how much you meant to me and continue to mean to me. i don’t… i don’t wanna lose you, but i know that being in each other’s lives can create more stress for us in the long run.”

donghyun’s face didn’t hold any disappointment. you were glad. he focused on your clasped hands and smiled sadly. “i’m glad. i was thinking the same way.”

you couldn’t stop the tear that escaped. “does this mean goodbye?”

“it doesn’t have to,” he trailed off, looking into the tank. “i think we can still be friends. we just have to say goodbye to the versions of us that planned a life together.”

“that’s so sad,” you whispered.

he nodded in agreement. “it is, but i’m willing to sacrifice that to get my best friend back. what do you think?”

was this a good idea? you pursed your lips. when you guys first decided to try being just friends, it was fresh off the breakup. of course, it’d hurt, right? but, now, you guys had your own separate lives and things seemed to be looking up for both of you.

“okay,” you decided. “let’s be friends.”

the grin growing on his face caused a smile to grow on yours. “to a fresh start?” he suggested, holding his half-full coffee cup. you held your own coffee up. “to a fresh start.”

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‧.₊˚ ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ current tags: @en-dream @heeheesang @prettyange1 @bee-the-loser @httpenhoon @r1kification @tkooooop @viller2 @veerooniicaa @lynnimini @peanutbutterjam505 @molensworld @tsukimiday0 @kazemiya @jvngw0nlvr @swanyvess @taylorluvation @kamfaye @anyaunyu @miujunhui @21corydoras @tsanho @miyawwn @dylanobr1ens @ellezra @prettiann @noodlesfeet @ribbioniki @petralovesbonedo @imnotsureokay @soupersaldz @hyukarina @cherrytaesan @yuzuksi @haechology @shenrickyistheloml @pinklemonade34 @heizqo @pinkiwinkiminki @sitdlstarllala @enzstr @wonuziex @defnotsanni @exselily @sirenla @seungheartyou @pumpkg @vveebee @cl4ir0l0v3r @angelzforu

੭ˊᵕˋ੭ a/n: i think exs can be friends, but only after building lives apart from each other. how did you read this? critiques welcome! if you disagree, that's okay! everyone lives and thinks differently and that's what makes life so rich.

[enlynstory]

⟢ The Moment Between

Pairing: non-idol!!Yang Jungwon x Reader

Synopsis: On the one-year anniversary of her mother’s death, a young woman gets overwhelmed by a panic attack. As she struggles Jungwons steady presence helps her regain control, and she finally realizes, shes never truly been alone in her fight.

Warnings: Passing of a loved one, panic attack, distress, crying, love. (Lmk if I missed any)

Wc: 934

A/N: This story means a lot to me. I can’t explain it to be quite honest with you. In the moment of writing it, I felt extremely connected to the main character. I don’t think it was necessarily because I’ve been through the situation of a loved one passing, but the panic attacks are something I struggle with. So I guess I really connected myself with the main character for a moment. And I really felt for her…amyways I hope you enjoy the story<3

It was exactly one year ago today that my whole world changed in an instant. The moment the doctors called and said, “I’m sorry ma’am, your mother didn’t make it through the surgery.” At that moment, I dropped to my knees, overwhelmed by the weight of the words.

Everything I had known felt like it was slipping away. My body shook, and I couldn’t hear anything except the rapid beat of my own heart. The world around me became muffled, distant, as if I were sitting at the edge of a deep void.

I didn’t need to be asked what was wrong. It was already written in the silence between us, in the emptiness that echoed louder than any question could.

~

I sat at the dining room table, surrounded by stacks of photos-pictures of me and my mother from when she was still alive. I bit my cheek, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill out.

“You okay, love?” Jungwon asked, his voice soft, and his eyes filled with concern as he gently rubbed my back. He knew what today was-the one-year anniversary of my mothers passing.

I felt my body shake as I fought back the sobs that were threatening to escape. I hadn’t expected today to hit this hard. “It’s okay, I’m okay,” I whisper, struggling to keep control as my hand moves to cover my mouth-a silent plea to keep the tears at bay.

I feel his hand pause on my back for a moment, and then his fingers gently lift my chin, guiding my face to his, “You don’t have to force yourself to be okay,” he whispers softly, “it’s okay to feel what you’re feeling.”

It was as if a switch had been flipped inside me, because the moment those words left his mouth, I fell apart. I let my head drop, and everything I’d been holding back finally poured out. He began rubbing my back again, his touch gentle and soothing, trying to calm the storm within me.

“I’m sorry love, I know this hurts,” he murmured softly. “I wish I could do more for you.” The pain seemed to grow with each word, and I felt my breath quicken as it all became too much to bear.

A tingling feeling spreads through my body as my vision starts to blur. I’m having a panic attack, I thought, quickly rising from my seat, instinctively knowing I needed to get control of myself.

Jungwon must have sensed what was happening, because before I knew it, he had a firm grasp on my arms, steadying me as I swayed, struggling to stay on my feet.

“Breathe, c’mon baby, you need to breathe.” He urged gently, his grip never loosening as he guided me to the living room and helped me sit on the couch. I bit my lip, desperately trying to calm my never ending nerves, but nothing seemed to work.

I must have bit my lip too hard, because within seconds, the taste of blood filled my mouth. “This is the worst one yet,” his voice tight with worry as he knelt down in front of me.

His hand gently wiped the tears from my face in a swift motion before he softly tipped my chin to meet his gaze. “C’mon love,” he murmured, his voice steady but full of tenderness. “You’re here with me. You’re safe. Focus on my voice, okay? Just breathe with me. In…and out. I’m right here, you’re not alone in this.”

I breathe in time with him, focusing on his voice as I try to regain control. Slowly, my vision sharpens, and I begin to feel steady again. “Just like that, you’re doing great,” he praises softly. My gaze falls on Jungwon, and I notice his eyes are slightly red, the worry still lingering in them. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath. “I didn’t mean to—”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, love,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he pressed his forehead gently to mine. “I’m just glad you're back,” he continued, his honesty clear in his words. “I was getting really worried.”

I bring my hand to his hair, gently smoothing it as I try to steady my voice. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I honestly don’t know what happened…It’s like I was back in the moment-when I got the call.” I pause, my throat tight. “It felt like I was relieving the nightmare all over again.”

His hand moves to my wrist, pulling my hand to his lips in a quiet, reassuring gesture, a reminder that I’m not alone. He shuts his eyes for a moment, and I watch as a single tear slips down his cheek.

“I’m alright now, dear,” I softly remind him, brushing my fingers across his tear-streaked cheek. “You did so well. You helped me through this.” I feel his head nod gently against mine, and when he finally opens his eyes, they meet mine with a longing, silent understanding. Without a word, he leans in, his lips finding mine in a kiss that feels both comforting and tender.

“I love you.” He says softly, as he pulls me up with him, bringing me in a hug that was warm and gentle. “I love you more” I utter, my hands finding their way to his hair.

It was exactly a year ago today that my life changed in an instant. But today, I finally saw it—through all the pain, all the heartache, I was never truly alone. Jungwon had been right there, holding me together when I couldn’t hold myself.

[zot3-flopped]

So i recently listenend to ttpd due to me always listening to all of the people that are at the grammys for this year (i just like checking out people or songs i otherwise wouldn‘t try out)

Here are my thoughts on ttpd:

In one of the songs she calls her fans vipers that called her out for dating matty. And frankly that is a big point i want to touch on. She always talked in interviews that she finds it ok to make sure people know who songs are about cause these men should feel shame. She always makes sure to be obvious so her fans can send hate towards these people. Sometimes she even makes easter eggs to hint at who it is about. Like yes the joke that ts only ever writes about exes is overdone, but she clearly always benefited from it, making this parasocial relationship even deeper. And she does this in a way that i have not seen other artists usually do. Thinking of lana, theweeknd or bruno mars- they write about their exes but you don‘t see them being this obvious and exploiting their relationship.

What i want to say is that while i am a big fan of her songs that have been personal, i don‘t take it lightly that she now suddenly dislikes fans calling her out. Either don‘t allow the fans to come close at all, or accept that you let them in and they now act like your friends who have a say in who you date. She is the victim of the own sphere she made. I don‘t feel sorry for this

I can do it with a broken heart sounds like a midnight made song and with a bit too much ego, which can lead into a place that is iffy because it feels like taylor knows she is too big to not sell well

I also don‘t take lightly that taylor had to mention kim again, which ok fine it has been years but i guess you can still be cut up about it. What i do not let slide is how she uses kim‘s child as a pawn in her play. Bringing children into your beef has always been weird, but bringing the child of your own declared „enemy“ into this to benefit from it, is not of taste. Especially because she knows her fanbase, she knows her fans will dig out said child and send hate. I mean this is like leaving a piece of sugar ourside and then acting like a victim when ants eat it. 

A lot of lyrics or idea of songs do not stick the landing. The lyrics are sometimes like a rambling. Like a person talking to their therapist or their friend. There aren‘t even proper catchy beats behind it. It is like it lacks character and the autonomy that a pop song has to make it memorable and to make it stand out. Like do i go into a ts record thinking it would be groundbreaking? No, ts always played it safe. She never gave me a more ballsy production like lana, lord or billie while also having good lyrics. But i expected at least a core to it, something to remember it by. It is sad because at her height, she can allow herself to be artistically standout ish, she can allow herself to take a step outside of this safe space, takikg an artistic risk, as i have said, because even she knows she is too big to not sell

The writing is crammed and doesn‘t have good hooks or melodies within the lyrics. And i know taylor is capable of delivering on that front usually. Folklore and everymore were lyrically well thought out, you were able to remember the lyrics and melody based only on how she sang the songs. Ttpd suffers under it‘s crammed lyrics and lack of melody even while singing the songs.

Ttpd doesn‘t have the catchy beats 1989 had, nor the buzz red had. Not even the deep cuts from lover can be compared to ttpd because ttpd feels washed out and as i said: 

just like a friend rambling to a friend about how angry she is over one guy making her wait and how he has depression and wouldn‘t commit. And how another guy love bombed her but also couldn‘t commit and she is oh soo angry about this. 

If this is all i can take away from an album with over 30 songs then there is something wrong with it

As i said i usually listen to all of grammy music for several years now, but i have always taken something from it: vocal wise, lyric wise or beat wise

This album sadly didn‘t give me anything and i would be saddened to see it awarded. If all i can take away from a music record is: she was mad as hell

Then what benefit do i get from listening to it? Nothing!!!! 

Ttpd is nothing to me

Ttpd is nothing, it is emptiness but the emptiness isn‘t impressive, isn‘t memorable

Ttpd equals nothing

Very interesting! I don't think for a minute that Poets will get an AOTY award. The reviews all criticised the lack of memorable instrumentation/melodies/production.

[sir--crow]

this!!!

I've seen a lot of hate on Tiktok towards fanfictions to the point where thousands of people in the comment section will be making hateful jokes about the fanfic.

I'm like... that's weird. it's mean. it's rude.

there's one particular fanfiction in general within this fandom that gets a lot of hate, and the author is active within the community so I know that they see it. it makes my heart hurt for them. because they wrote a 400k+ fanfic FOR FREE. it might be ooc, but so what? it's fanfiction. it doesn't matter. ITS FREE. so I don't care.

I feel like a lot of people forget how lucky we are to have Ao3 and other fanfiction websites because it's a whole library we can access for free, and the authors don't get a dime for the hard work they put into it.

you wanna know what I do whenever I dislike a fanfic? I close the tab. I don't leave a hateful comment. I don't leave a bookmark saying "bad" or "wouldn't read again" because guess what? Ao3 isn't goodreads. that author WILL SEE WHAT U WRITE. as someone who published on Ao3, let me say that we can see everything people write in their bookmarks, and it always makes me happy to see loving comments or praise.

I couldn't imagine seeing a bookmark hating on my fanfic. it would break my heart.

so this post really resonated with me. if you see hate on any social media about a fanfiction. ignore it, or call them out!

fanfiction is free and the authors take time out of their day to write for YOU. so don't laugh at them when their writing isn't the best or the characters are a bit ooc and then act all shocked when they take the fanfic down for hate. they have no obligations to keep writing, and yet they still do it.

finally, I also see people say that fanfic authors of more serious topics are problematic because of what they write. for example, dead dove is a popular problematic genre on tik Tok that people bash. I'm sorry but what? once again YOU DONT HAVE TO READ IT and just because they write about it doesn't mean that they are that way/do those things themselves. just because someone writes about cannibalism doesn't mean that they're a cannibal. just because someone writes about murder doesn't make them a murderer.

I don't get it. is it a lack of media literacy? I feel like people get disconnected from reality whenever they write stuff on social media as if the person they're writing about isn't an actual person with feelings.

so please, don't hate on fanfiction. and let me say this YOU'RE ALLOWED TO DISLIKE STUFF. you're allowed to dislike a fanfiction! I'm not saying that you can't. I'm just saying that it's wrong to post hate.

be kind.

thanks for the insightful post OP.

Please stop publicly hating on fanfics. PLEASE!! Especially in a comment section of a video that’s about the fic or the fandom, because whether you’re aware of it or not, the author could have a social media account on that platform and see the hate. The hate on something they did for fun, for free. If you want more content then you have to stop hating. these authors aren’t celebrities they don’t have pr teams or people dealing with hate for them, they’re participants in fandom, and they’re real people.

Fanfics are not books, yes some are amazing enough to be, but you do not buy them, they’re provided to you for free. A fanfiction being popular is not like a book you bought sitting on your shelf, you should not feel obligated to read it because you spent money on it. Because you didn’t. it’s free. Fanfics no matter how popular should not be treated and reviewed like books, you do not get to publicly criticise or say “how are people buying this?!” Because they’re not. It’s free. It doesn’t matter if you think it’s overrated, it’s something someone did for fun, and you don’t get to criticise that, especially because it’s public for you to read!! Don’t be mad that something’s overrated, be glad that it was even up in the first place, someone could have easily just left it as a draft and never posted it, but they did. They decided to share this piece of themselves, to the fandom for anyone to read and that is a gift.

Ao3 is an uncensored website for fanfics, you can write about literally anything. And yet I see “no don’t read that fic it’s problematic!!” In a comment section. Fanfiction is not censored, if you want morals and every character being perfect and making the ‘right’ choices, then get off ao3. Also reminder that an author can write characters making decisions that they don’t agree with, for depth of the story. Just because your favourite character, that you see as the pinnacle of righteousness, makes a bad decision or says something mean does not make the story bad or problematic. It also doesn’t make the author agree with that decision. All the time authors of published books write about morally grey characters or villains. But when an ao3 author does it all of a sudden they must have committed the war crimes that they wrote their villain to commit. Do you realise how stupid that sounds?? 😭

Also don’t post vague negative videos about something/someone even if you don’t say who or what it’s about, it leads the comment section to gossip about who they hate and that’s just not cool. And tagging the fandom that they’re in??? 90% of the time they’re going to see that.

Public hate is not cool, if you don’t like someone, talk to you friends about it if you’re craving other peoples validation so badly. You don’t need to post something publicly. And I know hate gets more popular then love in fandom, no matter if it’s headcanons or fics or creators, but that doesn’t make it good. I don’t know why people are so negative all the time, like I don’t care what headcanons you hate, why do you even spend that much time thinking about something you hate?? I want to hear what headcanons you like, I want to know you fav characters, your kins, literally anything.

Sorry this is so long, it just pisses me off to see a fun video about fandom and then I open the comments and it’s filled with hate. This is a fandom, have fun with it!!! Please. 😭

[nextinline-if]

I don't know if you're still answering asks or anything but going through some of the asks has me thinking of so many questions lol these are all from the perspective of ex-lover F

how would F react with hurt MC confronting them with "I'm not just going to be your second choice! I deserve better than that. You left me for someone else, I honestly doubt you ever even loved me." before storming of with tears rolling down their face and I guess maybe F realizing they might have completely fucked everything up with MC?

Also does F consider how much bringing up their spouse in front of MC hurts MC and makes it feel like they got left behind for someone else?

And oh man knowing F slept with Lucille is kinda like a gut punch oof, When playing the game I assumed they married as friends and with F having feelings for MC that meant they didn't have sex but it being confirmed on here is like daaaaaamn like F you didn't just break my heart you fucking destroyed it, What are Fs' feelings on this matter if this is how MC felt? (especially it being it hurt the MC cause they ran off and slept with someone else while the MC loved them like MC is not bothered by anyone else's body count cause you know they weren't in love with them and didn't have shared feelings, its more the betrayal of trust causing this hurt. Like if F had given a proper goodbye and a proper rejection of MC feelings/breakup it wouldn't be as painful for MC, I guess my main point still being is how does F feel about an MC hurt they slept with Lucille?)

and I wanted to ask is if Percival was still around and since he was the one who invited Felix and F back how would he feel seeing at how hurt the MC is to the return of F or just seeing the MC even more heartbroken being around F?

oh one more angst question that applies personally to my MC and F, I play as Trans man MC who is exes with Fredrick just a scenario of my MC with his head down asking Fredrick "Is it because of how I am.......is that why you had to find someone else?" (I'm a trans man so I love getting to play characters true to me so thank you)

Sorry for the ramble lol I hope this ask wasn't too much or weird, I don't think I have ever sent an ask this long before to anyone lol but your IF is very fun and inspiring so thank you! ಥ_ಥ

hi anonymous! I have been on here in a while so I no clue when you sent this I'm sorry about that :) I didn't answer everything but hopefully this is sufficient.

how would F react with hurt MC confronting them with "I'm not just going to be your second choice! I deserve better than that. You left me for someone else, I honestly doubt you ever even loved me." before storming of with tears rolling down their face and I guess maybe F realizing they might have completely fucked everything up with MC?

F is frozen in place, their throat caught in their throat. Not from the shock of your words but from the shock of realizing just how badly they fucked up. From realizing that the little sliver of hope that was blossoming in their bosom may very well be snuffed out.

I guess my main point still being is how does F feel about an MC hurt they slept with Lucille?

This is complicated to answer, to be honest. I've answered A LOT of asks on this blog so it's been quite a while since I stated this but F slept with Lucille and did not enjoy it and really only did it for "duty". F would absolutely understand why MC would be hurt by them sleeping with Lucille but they know that they can't go back and fix that (or the other mistakes).

and I wanted to ask is if Percival was still around and since he was the one who invited Felix and F back how would he feel seeing at how hurt the MC is to the return of F or just seeing the MC even more heartbroken being around F?

If Percival were still around, he would be upset that MC is suffering. However, the fatherly & kingly part of him that carries wisdom would tell MC how important it is to face the things that break us with courage. MC deserves closure of some kind. That may be moving forward with F. It may not be. Percival would support MC but also encourage them to face their demons.

oh one more angst question that applies personally to my MC and F, I play as Trans man MC who is exes with Fredrick just a scenario of my MC with his head down asking Fredrick "Is it because of how I am.......is that why you had to find someone else?" (I'm a trans man so I love getting to play characters true to me so thank you)

I can only imagine the gut punch for your MC!

F falls to their knees, your hand in theirs, their eyes searching yours. "I'm an idiot, MC," they whisper, their voice soft and broken, haggard F places a tentative and soft kiss on your hand, "Let me spend every day showing you that my leaving has to do with how stupid I am and not because of you. Never because of you," F begs softly, gazing up at you.

Sorry for the ramble lol I hope this ask wasn't too much or weird, I don't think I have ever sent an ask this long before to anyone lol but your IF is very fun and inspiring so thank you! ಥ_ಥ

Please don't apologize. Your ask meant so much to me. And you playing my IF means so much to me. Thank you!

-Vi

[mecachrome]

if you could commision your dreammm landoscar fic to read what would it be? The general plot, dynamics, vibes, side characters, etc.

GREAT question anon 🧡🧡🧡 honestly the thing about me is that every wip i have is kind of my dream 814 fic because i work from a "i guess i have to make it if i want it to exist 😔" perspective and less from any innate desire to force my poor writing onto people. so my dream landoscar fic is kind of my current wip but Better 💔

lately i've just been in the mood for like longer, unapologetically tropey, maybe more understated fic where it doesn't have to be super intense/romantic to be memorable! some of my fav tropes + narrative styles are found family and alt reality (e.g. one person is still a driver or they have different jobs in the f1 world), so that's what i'm working on rn (oscar's precocious karting daughter meets futurefic lando who's unconsciously torn between his attachment to his current lifestyle as an f1 driver and his desire to finally have a family to call entirely his own T__T)

another thing about me is that I LOVE UNCONVENTIONAL MIXED MEDIA FIC!!! but i'm really bad at writing social media dialogue and i actually just really like coding html elements from scratch for the sole purpose of inserting it into a fic. i don't even know what the plot would be though.......

some other wips i have that will probably never be written:

magical realism fic where everyone on the grid has powers, lando's is considered dangerous/volatile and is strongly linked to his emotions so he's been wearing a suppressor his whole life whereas oscar's has a beneficial/healing property and he doesn't need to suppress it (basically its effect on people around him is linked to the intensity of his feelings for them). lando who is usually clumsy and prone to bumping into things and randomly hurting himself, again in part from the longterm effect of having to essentially lock away the piece of himself that balances him out to conform to society, is prancing around like wow is it just me or has my luck been reallyyyy good lately? 🥺 while oscar is clenching his fists to the side telling himself to be normal. meanwhile alex whose power is that he can See Auras is like wow you bitches are BRIGHT PINK!!!!!! and is always making fun of them. you get the gist

my beloved babygirl aka f/f 234 + 814...!!! i've had this draft for a million bazillion years but it's really a lesbian lando character study, and delves a lot into her insecurities and how she's grown into herself as a person, from a little baby prude to a self-assured pillow princess. there's a lot of like pining after (unattainable!) alex, becoming fwbs, having her heart broken by her when she inevitably meets her hot/stable/emotionally mature golfer bf, and then being like Who TF Is This? when the next girl on the grid is her teammate who has never worn anything stylish in her entire life, and then... yeah. there's a lot more to it but i'll stop there

really the dynamic is about oscar ACTS OF SERVICE........... i think someone should also write a neighbors fic where lando is learning to cook for himself for the first time and keeps nearly setting his kitchen on fire and oscar is like oh my god you are hopeless. and starts bringing him meals. anyway

[zalder]

You have to sort of let them do their own thing. I mean, depending on their ages, they might want you to be involved or not. I have a lot of friends who weren’t as fortunate growing up and it makes my heart hurt to think about. I mean, I absolutely loved growing up in my family. There is just something about knowing that no matter what you’re all going to be there for each other that makes it so special. I was pretty sad to see my parents leave after Christmas myself. Their lives are back home though and they’re not ready to give that up anytime soon. I guess, seeing them all again gives us something to look forward to though, right? We’ll have another holiday for everyone to come visit soon enough. Easter isn’t that far down the road not that I know if that is something your family celebrates. Are you Easter people? Spending time with people is literally the best way to learn about them. I think sometimes, it’s better to go for something that isn’t trendy but special because then they can be the ones with the gift that makes all their friends jealous. You definitely don’t have to replace something that still works. I’m going to remember this in case I ever need help. I tend to bike or walk places more than drive but … you never know. The holiday was great. I planned to take the plunge but I fell asleep after the New Years Festivities and my alarm completely failed me. I guess my body told me otherwise. How many frost bites did you have to treat?

I really do love it, they're the closest family I have. It's just a lot of fun, the kids usually do their own thing. We're lucky to be one of those families that typically gets along, no crazy drama as far as I know and we can make it through the holidays in one piece. Downside is going back to work after all the festivities. I tend to spend a lot of time with them, so I learn what they like. Sometimes it's whatever is super trendy now or something that they learned from one of us, so it's cool teaching them that. Yeah! So far, so good. Knocking on all the wood that I don't have any issues come 2025. Maybe one day I'll get a new one but it works for me, so I'm happy! Ironically I'm also the one who helps take care of my mom's car too, so I guess I sometimes use that one? Thanks! Haha. How'd the rest of your holiday go? Got into the water for the plunge?

[windstir]

idk if i've said this here but i really like how gilbert is portrayed as a victim despite everything ... he's TRULY not a perfect person, he's the kind of person that makes you say "okay he does do shitty things he needs to sit down what's wrong with him" and makes things worse for everyone around him MULTIPLE times, he hurts the people who care about him in some way (carl and serge being my main examples, there was genuinely no reason to be doing allat but also does he really know any better???? he's stunted to hell and back in various areas and advanced in areas that he can't even PROCESS properly because of the constant enabling and trauma. he's off the rails, he's awful, his intentions a lot of the time are to HURT -carl- and to push people away in the worst ways possible because he's either scared or angry -serge-)

anyway, abuse victims in media are portrayed as characters who do No Wrong a lot. characters that are gentle, and whose trauma made them softer, who are kind despite it all, who want to be better than the person who hurt them and stuff. you know the deal.

and it's not bad! trauma presents itself in a miriad of ways and that's just how things are, the environment and beliefs are what end up making the change (an abused child without a support net outside of their abuser won't have the same development as an abused child who does have SOMETHING or SOMEONE to hold on to)

gilbert, clearly, is out for blood. his own and someone else's.

because, technically, that's how he was raised. and auguste managed to make an environment that enabled those harmful behaviors (because they were enabling his own!)

when angry, gilbert explodes, he breaks whatever is in his path, and his intentions are to hurt, to break, to cause damage to anyone. auguste taught him that, auguste exploded towards him a lot, gilbert says it himself, he says that auguste would beat him up when he was angry, and those would be the only times he felt loved (it's also shown that auguste would sometimes be kind after he beat him up, but i don't think he mentions this)

(from the backstory chapters):

bonnard: are you sure you can talk like that about him? he's your guardian

gilbert: i just wanted to get his attention. i have to take drastic measures ... or he won't even touch me.

bonnard: what do you mean?

gilbert: when i make him angry (see how he's blaming himself? he's a child here, he's 9!) he treats me with so much violence that i feel like my head is going to be ripped off (because auguste shakes him around violently)

bonnard: i didn't know he was sadistic!

gilbert: and even then ... i prefer that more than when he comes up to me ... but then walks away without trying anything.

sex and assault have also been used against him when angry, too.

so that sort of explains (BUT IT DOESN'T JUSTIFY) why he thought "oh i can do this to carl because i'm mad at him and because i know he wants me so bad anyway. then if it goes badly i can probably apologize to him and it'd be whatever." because that shit has been happening to him FOREVER. and he's been taught to think it was okay.

reading the scene again, you see he's taunting carl, saying that CARL is who wants this, and that this is his opportunity to do whatever he wants and satisfy that need to "possess" him

it's hard to explain a lot of things, but one thing that's clear is that he's using the language auguste and his abusers have used with him before ("you want this, so do it") and he thought carl might've followed along ... then he laughs when carl hits him, saying (direct quote): "hah ... i guess there's still space in you for god. that's great, cling onto him, protect him ... make sure i don't possess you ... make sure the devil (gilbert) doesn't possess you! make sure to tell that to serge, too. he's your best agent, your chosen one. but he needs to know that it's dangerous to get close to me! because I'M the devil that threatens to devour his pure heart! and if he gets close, he'll end up hurt."

a part of me wants to think he's projecting some of his own feelings towards his own abuse, because later on he does admit he feels trapped in his situation, he admits he just let people hurt him because he didn't know any better, stuff like that.

anyway, oof. he's portrayed as the biggest and main victim in kazeki despite it all, unlike auguste, who is very clearly the antagonist in everyone's lives despite him ALSO being an abuse victim (CSA and abuse in general from his adoptive brother)

i think it's nice that he's still seen as a victim despite that, because in the end all of this happens when gilbert is a child, a 13 year old, very poorly socialized and extremely mistreated and dehumanized throughout his life and stuff ......

it's really hard to explain how i feel about gilbert (despite me LOVING his character and feeling a sense of connection) without making it sound like i'm defending his actions because he's genuinely awful sometimes lol what am i even saying atp

[skyfallscotland]

My first book of 2025! 🥳

Just For the Summer by Abby Jimenez

Sometimes the best way to show love or be kind to someone is to meet them where they are.”

I'd seen people raving about this one everywhere, and the kindle edition went on sale for $4.99, so I bought it. I found out almost immediately after that, that it's third in a series (oops!) but oh well.

A friend told me it shouldn't matter that much, and it didn't, but there were times where little call backs were obviously being made, but I didn't have the context to understand them. It wasn't a big deal, but if that would impact your reading experience, maybe read the first couple 😂

I liked all the main characters well enough, they all had completely normal names, which was nice (lol) and I'll say I enjoyed the book, though I'm not sure I think it was as amazing as other people have said, but it's well-known around these parts that I'm picky, so that probably won't come as a surprise.

Personally, I'm just not sure contemporary is really for me because I do find it a little boring.

One thing that really bugged me was that it's first-person past-tense, which just made my brain freak out for at least the first half of the book. It might be because I write in first-person present, or it might be that it is weird, I don't know, but for me, first-person past feels like you're telling me what happened to you all those years ago, and it just sucks the heart right out of it in some respects, generally. If I'm not experiencing it with you, what's the point of writing in first?

Apart from that, I also found some of the writing to be quite choppy, which...I know I write quite long-winded sentences so again, maybe it's just me, but this felt jarring sometimes. Eg:

I turned to look at her. “You could make one that does. You could always stay.” I couldn’t read the smile she gave me. I wished I could. I could ask her what she was thinking. She’d have to tell me.

and

Emma looked over at me and smiled, and I let myself hope. “You ready to go?” I asked. She shoved off the railing and we left.

Like???

But despite that, it was enjoyable, and at times there were some real gems that shone through and made me feel.

It was easier to pretend to be angry and tough than to admit to being devastated and heartbroken. And by the practiced way she wielded attitude, she’d been devastated and heartbroken for a long time.

“It’s like there’s a part of me that’s always small,” I whispered. “And I don’t know why and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“You’re not asking too much,” he said. “You were just asking the wrong person.

Maybe it's just that I'd been writing beforehand, or maybe I'm just always thinking about her, but some of these are so Remi it hurts. I often have a gripe to pick with contemporary romances that bring in trauma in such a blatant way because they never explore it properly.

There was a lot going on in this book, and as expected, they never fully explore the scope of that trauma. They do the classic FMC is struggling with this mental illness and you can see it, but she won't realise it, she does, (sort of) third act breakup, oh look, timeskip, she's gone to therapy off screen for a few months and is magically better, happily ever after.

I think it's nice for it to be included as representation to an extent, I definitely think it did well within the scope of the word count to address it, but I also wonder if we needed to throw so many different things into the one novel, given the word count. I don't know, maybe it will settle better in hindsight and I shouldn't be writing this impression so soon after finishing, maybe I'm just not experienced in what most contemporary romances are like and I'll be pining for this representation later—I don't know.

I guess I'll find out, since reading more contemporary is one of my goals for the year. For now, I'll leave it with this 🥺

“Unhealed trauma is a crack. And all the little hard things that trickle into it that would have rolled off someone else, settle. Then when life gets cold, that crack gets bigger, longer, deeper. It makes new breaks. You don’t know how broken she was or what she was trying to do to fill those cracks. Being broken is not an excuse for bad behaviour, you still have to make good choices and do the right thing. But it can be the reason. And sometimes understanding the reason can be what helps you heal.”

And this:

But if you don’t think your life would be better without them in it, then accept that they have cracks. Try to understand how they got them and help fill them with something that isn’t ice.”

Let me know what you thought if you've read it! 🖤

[yeonmuse]

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ Curtain Call ·˚ ༘

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x lee heeseung ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷

authors notes This is a follow up to Heeseungs side story in Can You Hear My Heart. It takes place directly after the final chapter of Jungwons Mini Series. This is not a Hee X Reader series, but if youd like to replace the characters name with your own feel free to. This is part of admins University series

IN WHICH 𖤓 Heeseung has a thing for the theaters golden girl, he’s been crushing on her for months. He’s got it so bad for her that he somehow lets Jake talk him into attending auditions just to get closer to her.

Join the taglist here

Everyones invited

Heeseung meant what he said when he tweeted that he’d be going to that party, though the party itself was quite exclusive he along with his friends had already scored secure invites. Him having been friends with the boyfriend of the party host, besides since nicholas had cancelled his party, what better way to spend their time then at a party where he could finally see her outside of just practice or they’re occasional bump ins on campus.

He along with everyone else from the operationXO group chat would be attending, everyones invited, though if only they knew tonight was about to take a turn for the worst.

As they all arrived the house had already been completely packed, his first time at a penthouse suite yet all he cared about was finding her, his priorities sure did change. As he spots the pink fuzz of her hoodie which he had seen in the photos she had taken, he takes a few steps forward only to stop dead in his tracks as his eyes fall upon her smiling and laughing with two other girls, and one girl he knew all too well, Rena.

Sakoia must have sensed his presence because he had been preparing to turn himself around and walk away before he could be seen. She spotted him standing there.

“Heeseung?” He curses under his breath before looking up at her rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Koia, didn’t think I’d see you here. You didn’t strike me as the party type.” He was lying through his teeth, he had seen her posts enough by now to know when it came to her friends she was out often.

“Guess there’s a lot you’ve got to learn about me, Lee Heeseung.” She laughs and jerks her head into the direction of each of her friends as she introduces him to them.

“Ladies this is Heeseung, Heeseung this is Yuan, Nezza and Yuan's friend Rena.” No one else had seemed to notice but by the time Sakoia had introduced Rena, she had already been staring at him. This was painfully awkward and awfully troubling for him, the woman he was once in love with, the one that broke his heart, standing right across from the girl he had been trying to pursue for the last 5 months.

“Nice to meet you all.” He tried his best to play it cool, act as if he didn’t remember her, but she was well aware that he remembered, and he also knew very well from the way he looked at her alone, that he had a thing for Sakoia, because the same way he looked at Sakoia was how he once looked at her.

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight? Are the girls and the others here too?”

“Yeah we all came, Wonbin gave us an invite since Nicholas had to cancel his party. Congratulations on your release by the way, Nezza.” Truth be told he didn’t know a lot about nezza since the two had only met a handful of times, on the other hand he had known wonbin for years, the two of them having lived across from one another for years in their high school and middle school days.

“Thanks Hee, he’s upstairs probably playing pool in the foyer with some of the guests.”

“Sounds like I should be joining them, but I’ll catch you a little later?” He responds looking at Sakoia.

“Come find me later?” She responds with a smile on her face, he nods in response before disappearing into the crowd.

The moment Sakoia turned around she was met with amused faces.

“Lee Heeseung? You’re hanging out with him and his friends now?” Nezza was the first to mention the obvious elephant in the room, as long as she had known wonbin she had known about Heeseung, she had only met him and his friends a handful of times but it was enough times to know that they were a fun but chaotic bunch. As sweet as Heeseung was, she knew very well that he was the type to leave them, not love them, and it was obvious that his sights were set on her.

“I won’t say hanging out with his friends, I’ve only met them all once at his friend Jungwons Film event, other than that I only just met the girls but we’ve been hanging out occasionally.”

“All I got from this was that there are other women stealing my wife away.” Yuan complains and wraps her arms around Sakoia earning a laugh from sakoia and Nezza, while Rena just sat and observed.

“Just be careful with him, he’s not the type to talk to a woman just because he wants to be friends.”

“Nezz don’t read too much into it like you always do, we’re only friends, he’s a cast member now so I’m sure he just wants to get to know me better since we’re working together, it's only natural to do that right?”

“I don’t even know the guy, but the way he looked at you was not how a costar looks at their costar.”

“Yuan. Seriously you both are reading too much into it.”

Knowing that she had caught Heeseungs eye made her look at Sakoia in a different light. She scanned the girl from head to toe, she had to give it to Heeseung, he sure knew how to pick them, she was beautiful, stunning, but was she really his type?

While the girls remained in the kitchen chatting and gossiping about their life outside of campus, Heeseung joined the others upstairs, half out of his mind from the fact that now only the girl he currently had a thing for had been there, but so was Rena, of all places he could run into her, of all the people he could have seen here it was her.

“You look like you just saw a ghost” Wonbin chuckles as he leans over the pool table for his play.

“Maybe he ran into Sakoia.” Sunghoon teases, warning a slap on the arm from yn who had been sitting on jungwons lap.

“Oh I definitely saw her, she and her friends were gagging a nice conversation before I met them in the kitchen, a conversation with Rena.”

“Oh shit she's really here?” Ni-ki was sent into a fit of laughter that only made Heeseung roll his eyes in response.

“That bitch is actually here? Why ?” Sunoo absolutely hated her, there was no one in the group that hated her more than he had, not even Heeseung himself.

“Apparently she knows both of Koias friends and she was invited, Koia doesn’t seem to know her. I'm guessing they met for the first time today.”

“I saw the whole interaction on twitter, I just didn’t think she would actually be coming, that's insane.” Sunghoon chimes in as he takes his shot on the billiard table.

“Am I missing something? Who is this girl and why do we hate her exactly?” Yn had been the only one left out of the loop, for as long as the guys had known each other they all knew that she was someone that they didn’t speak of. There was a mutual hatred for the girl that each of them had had since senior year in high school.

“Shes Heeseungs Ex”

🔖 @sol3chu @butterflywonz @jwonistic @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @lillotus17 @dreeki @jiamini @st4rryst4r @firstclassjaylee @right-person-wrong-time @heesallure

Chapterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[nandermoenthusiast]

The coffin lands with a crash, Nandor already out of it gracefully as his vampiric nature grants him.

“Have you survived the fall Guillermo, are you allright?” he asks haughtily and with a barely concealed predatory grin at the yelping heap of limbs and clothes that is Guillermo right now. Of course he was never truly worried for his well being, Guillermo might be human, but he is no regular human, if his van Helsing blood has anything to say about that. Nandor just likes to tease.

“Yes master, im fine, i just wasnt prepa-“

Nandor offers him a hand out of the coffin, the way Guillermo has done so many times before for him. Nandor looks at him curiously, Guillermo looks all flustered right now, hes cute. Hes always cute of course, but damn. He hasn’t even realised the obvious parallel yet, just took his hand absent-mindedly as he was rambling about something. His hair is all mussed up too. Cute.

Probably the moment registers into Guillermo’s mind as Nandor hears his muttering protests suddenly cut short. He’s looking at their gingerly intertwined hands and kinda looks like hes about to swallow a frog, or maybe like he’s about to start crying again. This fucking guy. Always a theatrics with him. But Nandor has learned to lean into his little guy’s moods. He leaves him to his maybe horny maybe emotional thoughts and finishes helping him out of the coffin.

The air is thick between them now. He can sort of hear Guillermo’s heartbeat from this distance, the little guy probably has a concert thumping in his ears right now. Nandor enjoys playing with his food, always has, and today is no different. He takes a step closer. Guillermo takes an infinitesimal step back. There is a wall very close to his back. Right where Nandor wanted him.

“You know as i was saying about the cameras, Guillermo…” he starts feign-casual as he very not casually hovers over him, black eyes boring into him with the fire that only very rarely comes out in front of the crew. Guillermo looks like he’s a mixture between disbelieving and like he’s gonna pass out from hyperventilation at a moments notice. It’s an endearing mix.

“Y-yes, you -were saying something about your hair…” Guillermo couldn’t physically look away from Nandor if his life depended on it right now.

“And other reasons”, very seriously.

“- Yeah”, an exhale.

Just look at his eager little eyes. Should he put the guy out of his misery? Well come to think of it, should he put himself out of his own misery? He’s been in love with the guy for the better part of a decade now. Of course he’s not about to say that now. Let him play the part of suave vampire for his Guillermo, let him fullfill any fantasy he’s ever had, at the very least this very first time they do this dance. There will be time for the mushy stuff later. Come to think of it, what is Nandor doing?? Acting on years of pent up sexual and romantic tension, of course, but what is he setting himself up to? Heartbreak.

Violent, earth shattering heartbreak. Maybe not today, maybe not in 10 years, but soon. Soon to a vampire anyway. No- you don’t know that. If Guillermo loves me, he might find a way to not leave me like he always does. He always does leave. But then he also always comes back. Doesn’t he? Nandor loses himself in these thoughts for a moment, and Guillermo seems to notice his mind is suddenly somewhere else.

Oh, to be known so completely. Oh, to have a worthy partner, a partner who knows everything about you, a Lazlo to your Nadja, a Charmaine to your Sean, a Sire to your Baron. And to have to lose it in a matter of years. Just his luck. But also like Colin Robinson said, dont be sad cause its over, smile cause it happened.

Nandor’s eyes keep searching Guillermo’s as he draws closer and closer, eyes intensely registering every microexpression on his beloved’s face, the little crinkle between his brows and the small nervous smile that’s forming around his lips. His hands land seamlessly and delicately on either side of Guillermo’s face, and he feels his breath hitch. He really doesn’t give a flying fuck if he’s gonna suffer for a thousand years, Guillermo is here right now and he looks like he’s gonna break under his touch. One hand goes to cradle his head, thumb delicately swiping over Guillermo’s ear and pulse point, as Nandor brings their noses together and they breathe the same air for a moment. The other hand is held gently across his cheek, just there, a reassuring weight. “I’m going to kiss you now”.

And Nandor kisses him.

[hers-underwraps]

Just a Dad and his two favourite adopted kids 🤍

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 4

after so many months of waiting, the wait... is finally over.

here is the fourth and final part of this little au idea i had brewing in my head for some time now. i hope you guys enjoy?

and thanks so much to everyone leaving encouraging and kind comments on the previous parts as well! really appreciate y'all :)

hope this ending is a satisfying one :)

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 3 here<

MJ: We’re going to hang tomorrow after my shoot, right?

It was a text that Miles looked at and looked at and looked at all day ever since it arrived into his messages that very morning. It literally came out of nowhere.

But how long ago was it that he and Hobie Jones ran into each other at Central Park? It had to have been like a week ago, he was pretty sure...

He thinks.

“Maybe the guy’s pushy or somethin’, he just really likes you for some reason,” Ganke had offered by way of explanation as they sat together at lunch for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Miles wasn’t entirely sure when he and Ganke ever got to chill like this together in the cafeteria area... but as luck would have had it, Ganke’s mom forgot to send over some money for the week, forcing him to buy from the cheaper menu that the school had to offer rather than ordering off of the many food delivery apps he had on lock in his phone.

They sat a ways away from the hustle and bustle of the main area, near a big window that looked outwards into the typical scene of the congested New York City streets, and Miles would have been perfectly content with this arrangement had it not been for The Text.

He jiggled his leg and rubbed at his jaw in between bites of his own cheap meal-- something he got even though he didn’t really want it, but what was he gonna do, let Ganke wait in line by himself?-- gazing at his cell phone sitting right by his elbow. The text message was gazing right back at him.

“I… dunno. I-- man, I wish I told you more about my patrols so you can remind me how long ago Central Park was. I swear it was only like… last week? Right?”

Ganke chomped on his own slice of pepperoni pizza and shrugged. “I think that was a while ago. Either way, he wants to go on this date with you. So you might as well.”`

Miles groaned. “It’s not a date, Ganks. We’re just… chillin’, hangin’ out a little,” he gestured with his hands, which was not convincing Ganke at all. “Y’know?”

Ganke leaned forward a little bit, glasses slipping down his nose as he grinned mischievously. “Did he figure out it was you, Mi? Is that why you’re so nervous about it?”

“Whaaat are you talking about? No… no, he didn’t! I just. Uh, I saved him from those scary gang members and then I swung him home and that was that. No one else knows but you and my parents, Ganke, promise.” Miles’ smile was even less convincing.

“Miles,” Ganke deadpanned, “have you ever thought about what would happen if some Flickstagram-famous model learns about your thing you got goin’ on? He could be pushing this because he knows already, dude. Or at least he thinks he does. You’re a weird kid after all, and it wouldn't take too long to put two and two together... no offense.”

Miles shoved a fist under his chin and chewed a french fry pensively, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't give him away.

The thing is, Hobie did know.

Miles still couldn’t shake off the memories of his warm fingertips hooking under his mask and slowly lifting it off of his face, the way his entire visage seemed so positively radiant with that dazzling smile once they met eyes. He remembered Hobie’s wiry arms clutching onto him for dear life as they flew across the stadium towards the exit, the easy banter they had going back and forth after the action finally died down and they were safely heading back to the outer gates of the park.

So Hobie definitely knew. That wasn’t really the problem... although, Ganke might be right. It could be in the future, if Miles didn’t play his cards right.

Hobie is a solid guy no matter what dimension Miles found him in. Even as the Prowler on earth-616, that Hobie Brown was as an upstanding citizen as any crook could be. But flashes of earth-42 kept sparking up right behind his eyes every time doubt popped up about a new player in his life here on earth-1610, and one can never just assume anyways.

And now Miles is sitting at his lunch table with his best friend— who, until now was the only living person on this planet who knew about his secret identity— ruminating on whether or not Ganke might end up being a damn seer after all. Ganke doesn’t know that Hobie knows, but he really just might be right anyhow. That would really be Miles' luck.

Goddamnit.

Is Hobie planning on blackmailing him somehow? His involvement with those thugs stealing a prominent museum’s precious security info seemed a bit off to him, the more he thought about it.

They joked about it many a time over text, but Miles would be lying if he said he hadn’t turned a couple of facts over and over on more than one sleepless night. Hobie mentioned having connections, a camera, and seemed almost too recklessly opportunistic when it came to the chance at nabbing that flash drive...

Doubt was sinking back in. Miles drummed his fingers on the table and shot Ganke a look. “... Whaddya think I should do if he does, then?”

“What, if he finds out?”

“Yeah.”

Ganke shrugs again, popping a pepperoni slice into his mouth and thinking while he chewed. “Web him up to a lamppost,” he said after a bit.

Miles snorted with laughter. “Ganke, be for real right now. You’ve got great coding and social media knowledge, dude. Could you hack his tech if asked you to? Like, just in case?”

Ganke waggled his head, making a show of really, really thinking it through. “Mmmmn, yeah maybe.”

Miles sighs. “What do I have to do?” He asks because he knows his best friend by now.

“Fifty bucks and you also have to do my laundry for a week. What?” Ganke exclaims upon suddenly being on the receiving end of Miles’ glare, “If I get caught, it could mean like federal level charges on my head, dude. Take it up with the law, not me!”

Miles sighs and returns back to his plate of cold fries. “Yeah, yeah. You got a point,”

“But you gotta meet up with him first, figure out what we're dealing with. Just stop putting it off, bro. Avoiding him'll make you look more suspicious. Might as well get it done and over with,”

Miles swallows his fries along with his anxiety, picks up his phone, and starts drafting his answer to Hobie’s sudden proposal.

He doesn't know why there's a pit of dread in his stomach, but he opts to ignore it this time.

He hopes Ganke is wrong.

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

The next day, MJ's cell phone vibrates on the portable vanity set up at the studio where his current shoot is taking place.

He’s busy, trying not to get too lost in the flurry of hands prepping him, the flashing of the cameras, the shouts of directions from the camera guy as he hits pose after pose with the props on set.

It’s when he’s changing into his last outfit for the shoot that he finally has some time to sip his water bottle and mindlessly scroll through dozens of notifications, finally coming across the one notif he waited to get the entire day: Miles. His name appeared at the very bottom.

... Meaning he received the message hours ago. Shit.

With his shoot almost over, MJ punched in a quick message and hit send, excitedly returning back to the set and finishing his work day up as quickly as humanly possible.

MJ's absentmindedly agreeing that every picture the director shows him is truly amazing, yes, amazing indeed, all while trying not to vibrate out of his mind-numbingly expensive designer outfit he’s been forced into. The only person he can think about as he dumbly nods along to whatever the crew is saying to him is Miles. Miles, Miles, Miles.

Miles has agreed to finally-- finally, after all of these weeks-- meet up with him and make good on his promise. Of course, MJ's slightly miffed that it had to be him to initiate the lunch date in the end, but whatever.

Closed mouths don’t get fed, after all. And Miles was technically not breaking his promise.

So now MJ is floating back down the hallway to the makeup room, gently pushing past all of the other models and swatting away at his mother’s hands while he makes his way over to his duffle bag.

“MJ, darling. Look at me,” his mother says as she hooks a finger under his chin and examines his makeup. “Do you wanna be wearing this when you go hang out with your little friend today?”

Your little friend, MJ almost scoffs out loud, but manages to school his expression into one of pure professionalism. “Yes, mom. Nothin' wrong with it,” he answers breezily.

She hovers. "I mean, it might make your friend think that... uhm, well. You know, it might give the wrong impression. He'll think you two are on a date! You're not allowed to date."

"Sure, mom. Except he knows I'm a model. The whole city does at this point." His tone drips with teenage attitude.

She lets him go.

Then, he’s unbuttoning his shirt and untying a sparkly scarf doubling as a belt to hold up the comically baggy jeans he was assigned to wear today, impatient to shrug himself out of those clothes and jump into his own so he can finally, finally, finally run down to the little cafe he told Miles to meet him at.

His mother was busy on a tablet typing away at something, chatting with MJ's agent once he found his way over to them, and even when neither of them noticed much about MJ on any other day, it seemed they were paying special attention to the way he was throwing his clothes back on with obvious glee now.

MJ had never smiled this much around them, and they sure took note of it now.

“Heard you’re getting ready to meet with a friend, MJ,” his agent told him once he turned his attention back to his client.

“Yyyep,” MJ answered noncommittally. He threw on a coat and started to reach for his messenger bag, stopping when a hand grabbed his shoulder and squeezed.

“We’re gonna keep in touch with the team, and keep updating you on the status of the shoot, but we gotta make sure you’ve got your phone on, right?” His agent looked him directly in the eye. “It’s great that you’re making friends again, Em, but you have to keep your head in the game.”

Yeah, of course. “Don’t let anything distract you from helping me make money” is what you mean, MJ thought ruefully, blinking back innocently.

He nodded and offered his agent a casual smile. “I mean yeah. He’s just a friend, I’m not gonna let that get in the way of my job. Don’t worry,” he adds, “I got my phone on. Hit me up when something cool happens.”

His agent and his mother exchange glances, but agree to release him anyways.

“I mean, he’s still a kid,” he hears his mother say as he quickly exits the room and finds his way towards the elevators. “I let him have a little fun every once in a while! The real work doesn’t start until he’s older right? Might as well let him have this for now..."

MJ rubs his thumb up and down along the edge of his phone case, feeling the bumps of the volume keys over and over.

He steps into the elevator when the doors slide open. He punches the button for the main lobby and stares down at his messages with Miles.

Yes, he thinks a bit vindictively, the real work doesn’t start until he’s older.

She definitely isn’t wrong about that.

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

"You ever think about running away at all?" Hobie asked Miles rather suddenly after they got their usual greetings done and over with.

The cafe Hobie picked was cute, quaint, and very small. A nice little reprieve from the noisy halls of their school and the bustling city streets, since the business didn't seem to have any other patrons at this hour aside from the two boys.

They picked their seats right next to the window and opted to people-watch for a bit as they scrolled through the cafe's stylized menu on their phones. The lighting of the late-afternoon day illuminated Hobie in such gorgeous warm light that Miles was almost suspicious; did he pick this place specifically because the late sun's rays would bounce off of nearby skyscrapers and cast them both in the best mood lighting New York City had to offer? It sure seemed like it.

Hobie leaned back in his seat and gave Miles the most charming smile he's seen on a guy yet, erasing his suspicions from his brain entirely. And... well, anything else as well.

"Uhhh," Miles offered intelligently.

Hobie huffed a laugh in response. "It's okay, I know it's a weird question. Forget I said it."

Miles shook his head. "Wait, no. Sorry, what'd you say again? I'm, uhm. Sorry, I think I'm just a little tired. Kind of out of it,"

Hobie nodded sagely, setting his phone aside for the time being. "Hmm, late night homework, right? Essays maybe?"

They chuckled and grinned at each other cheesily, the knowledge that they shared a big secret between them settling comfortably and cozily like a fat cat curling up near a fireplace. It was nice, kinda. To be in on something that not many other people were, like an inside joke or a long-running bit between old friends.

But then Miles' earlier conversation with Ganke at the school cafeteria floated back up in his mind again and he had to bite his lip to keep from frowning suddenly. He looked down, a bit ashamed.

"Hobie--" he started.

"MJ," Hobie interrupted, chin in his hand now.

Miles looked up. "MJ. Oh, yeah. Right, sorry."

"I don't really like my given name, so no one calls me that. Just call me MJ. Or Em, even. That's what my agent calls me."

"Agent. Geez. So you didn't really answer my question earlier, back when we first met," here, Miles folded his arms on the table in front of him. "How famous are you, really?"

MJ grinned like a mischievous cat, chin still in one hand. "You've been on my Flicksta page this entire time since you found it. How famous do you think I am? Not that hard to do research nowadays, right?"

Miles felt his face heating up. "H-how'd you know about that?"

"You liked a post of mine that I made like... last year, dude. I saw."

Miles silently cursed himself out as he shut his eyes in embarrassment and winced. "Yikes. Alright, I guess you caught me. That was my bad for sure!"

MJ's grin was crooked. "Yeah, I'm... pretty well-known. Not supermodel status yet obviously, but I've been on a couple billboards. Posters, some ads. I'm training to walk some shows. Whatever." He leaned back in his seat again and messed with his sweater's sleeves a little as he spoke. Distantly, Miles noticed how expensive MJ's clothing really looked, how plush the knit of his sweater was, and the tailoring of his coat.

"Whatever," Miles echoed inquisitively. "Do you hate it? Is that why you wanna run away?"

They met eyes.

"I thought I told you to forget that question, Morales," MJ replies coolly. "It was a weird one. I dunno why I even said it,"

Miles, sensing something in the air between them, wondered if he should have changed the subject. Too bad his mouth had a less-than-stellar track record of listening to his brain.

Instead, he opened it and quietly said: "If we're gonna be friends, and if you want me to not web you up to a pole somewhere in Manhattan, I gotta know your deal."

"Mn, my deal," MJ repeated warily.

"Yeah," Miles sighed, already resigning himself to just getting this over and done with already. No time like the present, right? "You mentioned... you mentioned having a camera and connections. And you're just... weird, man. Like, no offense but you being in Central Park when you were that one time? Running away from those gang members who looked like they were gonna strangle you for takin' their flash drive away from 'em? That was super risky. Something's up."

MJ nodded, still looking apprehensive but also like he wanted to give in. "Right, I've got your big secret. Now you wanna have one of mine. Fair, I guess."

Miles shrugged helplessly. "If we're gonna be friends... I mean, it is fair, right?"

MJ glanced around at the empty seats around them, grateful that even the cashier seems to have gone to the back so that they were both totally alone together. Good spot to pick after all, he thought to himself. He kept his voice down just in case anyways.

He licked his lips and leaned his elbows on the table. "Yeah. I get it. It's a big thing you're doing for the city, y'know... doin' what you do. So here it is: I hate being a model."

Miles blinked at him, waiting for more. MJ didn't immediately being speaking again so he made a go on kind of motion with a hand.

MJ laughed a bit, shaking his head. "This is gonna be stupid. It's gonna sound so stupid! God," he rubbed the bridge of his nose with a knuckle and looked outside at a small stream of people walking past, all in a hurry to get on with whatever it was that occupied their lives.

"... About as stupid as some kid from Brooklyn putting on a costume to go out and fight crime?" Miles smiled patiently.

"Well, kinda. It was because of some punk kid from Brooklyn putting on that costume to go fight crime that I finally had the courage to like, go out there and get into my little hobby of breaking and entering, snooping around places I shouldn't, trying to help people..." MJ stopped when he saw the look on his friend's face.

"You...?" Miles started, his lips forming the shape of the words he wanted to say but not quite letting them out into the open just yet.

Did he hear that right?

As if reading his thoughts, MJ nodded. "When you took up the mantle of Spiderman after our first guy died, I took it as a sign. To like... finally just do it, right? I guess all that was left was just taking the leap, y'know what I mean?"

Miles suppressed a shudder as he nodded along, pushing Peter B's lectures out of his mind for the moment.

"I hate being a model," MJ continued, a single loc falling into his determined face, "because I wanna be a journalist. Like... an investigative journalist. But I also like science stuff as well. I guess I dunno what I really wanna be when I'm older. All I know is... I have got to get away from my overbearing mom."

"Or else," Miles finishes for him, tilting his head as if to say remember our conversation at the park?

MJ grimly confirmed it. "Or else," he replied.

Miles blew out a breath and leaned all the way back in his own seat, folding his arms over his chest. "Wow."

"Yeah, heavy stuff. I know," MJ tossed his locs back over his shoulders and glanced up at the posted menu hanging high above the register. The cashier returned from the back, placing several different pastries from a baking tray into the cafe's clean little glass display at the counter.

"Wanna...?" MJ pointed his chin at them, already pushing his chair out to get up.

"Oh, yeah. Food! Duh," Miles answered and got up to follow suit. How could he possibly forget?

The rest of their hangout goes over wonderfully after the grim conversation, all things considered. They opt to chat amicably about surface-level stuff mostly; family dynamics, friends, schoolwork and more about MJ's day job as a model.

"My mom acts like she's my agent most days, too." MJ is recounting this in between sips of his black coffee, long fingers nursing the ceramic cup he was given. "She's the one who got me into these modeling gigs in the first place. She said I had 'the look'... whatever that means. I like bein' behind the camera, though. Not in front of it," he lamented.

Miles spears some lettuce that fell out of his sandwich with the toothpick his side of pickle came with, waving it around as he talks. "Your mom sounds like the type of parent that pushes their kids around a lot. I guess I would know what that's like,"

Sensing a chance to commiserate in their shared dilemma, MJ leans forward a bit and smiles. "Your folks sounded nice when you described them. What's up?"

"I love them, and they sure do love me, but," Miles shakes his head and picks the lettuce off of his toothpick. "I dunno. They want the best for me and... sometimes it feels like nothing else matters but that."

MJ has the lower half of his face carefully hidden behind his mug when he asks: "Have you told them?"

Miles sighed, long and loud. "Yep. Yeah. They know. They do. That was... a very long story but. Anyways, yeah, after all the stuff that went down this spring, I finally had to fess up. No one else knows but you guys, though, I swear."

Miles silently patted himself on the back for managing to completely omit Ganke from the conversation. Can't give up his ace up his sleeve so soon, now can he?

MJ nods sympathetically. "I wasn't kidding, you know. Back when I told you that your secret was safe with me. You've got one of mine, so. No one else but us,"

Miles raises a pinkie over their plates and makes eye contact with him. "Pinkie promise?"

MJ's eyes flash at him.

"Duh. I never break promises," he replies, hooking pinkies together and smiling. "I'm not really in the business of ruining the life of a pretty great hero right now."

"Until it benefits you, you mean," Miles says, really only half-joking.

MJ doesn't take the bait. Instead, he deflects the best way he knows how. "Oh yeah, absolutely. If someone's out there putting a billion-dollar bounty on your head someday, you already know I'm goin' for it. What? It's a billion dollars, dude!"

They laugh together as Miles throws a piece of tomato in his direction and MJ threatens to pour the rest of his coffee onto his lap.

It felt good, felt natural. Their banter was smooth and seamless which Miles thought was a relief because very few people he encountered in life wanted to keep up with his constant sarcasm and nerdy jokes. No one else seemed to share his sense of humor except for MJ, and it made him feel a bit of warmth in his chest.

Even if they only stayed friends, he seemed to be a great companion to have nonetheless. And Miles had Ganke as backup in case anything went wrong between them. It was a daunting thing to come to terms with, the fact that such a cool guy like Hobie M. Jones had the ability to stab him behind his back at any moment's notice, or accidentally let Miles' secret double life as the crime-fighting webslinger out at the most inopportune time.

But... it wouldn't be the first time a friend has double-crossed him.

Miles wasn't stupid. He knew that letting more and more people in on his secret identity was a huge gamble, especially when it came to keeping a secret as big as this was. The risk was too high, the rewards might not even be worth it.

Worst of all, his friends could be legit and then get hurt if they ever found themselves somehow caught in the crosshairs of his other life.

... But Miles didn't want to think about that right now. That was a problem for future him. Right now, they were both too busy being what neither of their own families seemed to want them to be: a pair of carefree kids.

In this moment, MJ didn't have to worry about stifling and busy schedules arranged for him without his consent. He didn't have to worry about itchy fabrics or ill-fitting designer clothes or loud and bright cameras capturing his every move. With Miles, he could finally let loose.

And in this moment, Miles didn't have to worry about crime-fighting (for now), juggling mountains of schoolwork to please his parents, or keeping up appearances so he didn't arouse suspicions as to where he always was when he managed to slip away. With MJ, he could relax a little and enjoy the small things that always escaped his notice as he rushed this way and that, desperately trying to keep up with the chaos of his everyday life. Time seemed to slow down and speed up simultaneously when they were together.

They finished up their meal and exited the cafe, thanking the cashier and pulling on their coats to hopefully battle the frigid winter air of the city. They made their way up and down blocks, past shops and restaurants, weaving in and out of passing crowds on the sidewalk.

As they wandered aimlessly, unable to escape each other's gravitational pull for even one second, they talked some more.

They talked about Miles' art, MJ's secret science experiments in his room and how he fought his mom to get into Visions in the first place, about Miles' parents and his daily workload he usually juggles. They tried talking about Miles' start as Spiderman, but they didn't get too far along that topic before realizing there were only so many code words they could use to say what they wanted to say out loud before devolving into a fit of giggles.

They chatted about their plans after they graduate, how Miles still wants to go to Princeton and how MJ is planning on funding his own college education once he saves up enough money to leave his station in life and go wherever the wind takes him.

Miles seemed a bit sad at the thought that their friendship looked to have an eventual expiration date in the future, but there didn't seem to be anything changing MJ's mind anytime soon. After all, he didn't even know if he was going to keep in touch with Ganke once they stopped being roommates. And they ended up being pretty tight, against all odds.

So as they kept their casual pace through the city, Miles made a mental note to remember and cherish days like these as much as he could. He checked his phone for the time... this blissful moment of normalcy would have to end soon.

"So," Miles said once their long conversation eventually wound down. Their feet had taken them to a nearby subway station, the gum-covered concrete steps already beckoning them both to bid each other adieu.

"So..." MJ glanced at him, stopping them both by the railing and smiling down at his friend.

The day was drawing to a close, the sun had fully set about half an hour ago and they both needed to get out of the streets and back to their regular everyday lives. For Miles, this meant he had to get at least an hour of patrolling in before swinging back to his dorm room and getting started on his studies for their chem test on Monday.

For MJ, it meant returning back to Manhattan and steeling himself in preparation for the eventual lecture he knew he was going to get, about not staying out so late without supervision and how he didn't respond in time to his agent's texts. The usual.

"I hate to say it, but it's lookin' like we might have to say goodbye for now," Miles shrugged, hanging his head for comical effect.

MJ laughed brightly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound like you don't even wanna leave."

"You might be right about that. Wish me luck tonight, I gotta... y'know," Miles leaned casually as he could manage against the railing, shrugging a shoulder.

"Right. Do your extracurriculars,"

Miles groaned. "Yuck. Let's not call it that, please! You sound like my dad. Let's just call it my weird hobby instead."

"Okay, so I guess I gotta let you go to do your weird hobby instead, then."

"Which just so happens to be graffiti, by the way," Miles' lips quirk up mischievously, giving MJ a look as he slowly slides against the railing and places a foot on the first step. "I like to spray paint around the city every now and then... in case anyone wants to know. In case they ask."

MJ bobs his head in response, following Miles' movements. "Ah, right. Spray painting! Super cool. Anyone asks where you are, I got your back, man."

Miles' smile is as dazzling as it is endearing as he places a hand on the metal railing and lowers himself some more, unable to bring himself to cut the invisible rope anchoring him and MJ together, holding them there in that one space as a constant stream of New Yorkers climb up and down the steps beside them.

Thank you New York City, Miles finds himself thinking.

No one glanced in their direction, they were completely surrounded by people, but still alone. The lights of nearby shop signs and street lamps gave MJ a bit of a halo around his hair, and from the angle he was standing at, Miles looked up at it and believed that it made him just glow.

They gazed deeply into each other's eyes, the usual noise of the city falling easily into the background. It was just the two of them.

"... Yeah." Miles says a bit awkwardly, unable to pull away. "Yeah, that sounds... good. Great. Thanks man! You're a real one,"

MJ smiles knowingly above him. "So you might wanna head on down now. Don't wanna keep you from catching your train."

Miles grins back. "Right. My train."

"Go get 'em, Tiger." MJ responds, offering him a little salute with his fingers and finally turning away to disappear into the thick crowds that flowed up and down the city sidewalks like water.

After a little bit, Miles felt like he could breathe normally again.

He descended down.

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

Miles' life went right back to normal, with a new element added in.

He still rushed through his days of back-breaking homework and tests, still tried to keep up with the crime-fighting and his family back home who kept pestering him with exclamations about how he was always late to events and get-togethers, especially as the holidays rolled around.

(His mother pulled him aside for a quick little chat on how he needs to get better at communicating where he was so that she and Jeff could make up excuses for him ahead of time)

He still gamed mindlessly with Ganke on most weekends after their school break ended and the students all traveled back to their dorms, he still texted his extra-dimensional friends whenever he was free and had a minute to spare.

But now he made some space for another special person in his life: Hobie M. Jones.

They passed notes back and forth in the classes they shared like a pair of friends back in elementary school (to avoid leaving a trail of evidence on their phones, Miles argued when he brought it up to MJ, who just laughed) and walked each other to their classes whenever they could.

But it was risky business keeping someone like MJ so close, especially if it could arouse suspicion when Spiderman happened to swoop in and save him out of the blue. Both Miles and Spiderman hovering around MJ's vicinity day in and day out could be a possible liability to contend with indeed, so Miles still tried keeping his distance whenever possible.

For what it was worth, MJ seemed to understand. He was also occasionally followed by cameras from online fans in the real world or opportunistic reporters looking to try and pry precious info of a new marketing campaign MJ happened to be a part of, so this kind of life wasn't new to him either.

Thankfully, he agreed it was best to only get together in private.

As the months flew by, exams and assignments came and went, but their friendship only flourished.

Miles found himself admitting some surprising things to MJ on late-night text conversations when he couldn't sleep and needed to hop out of his dorm window to burn some energy. He found himself doodling his friend in his sketchbook often, unable to scrub the images of his flawless modeling photos from his brain.

He found himself... doodling their names together on hastily discarded sticky notes and coming up with illegible graffiti so he can mash their names together on stickers and shamelessly slap them up onto signs, onto walls, onto bathroom stalls and stairwells and notebooks and poles and bus stops and--

Miles startled out of a reverie as he was balancing himself on a random window ledge somewhere in the city, fully suited up, sketchbook in hand as he doodled little hearts around a profile study of MJ. Tucked under the page he was working on was an embarrassing amount of stickers with his and MJ's last names on them.

God. The humiliation he would face if MJ ever got his hands on this book. His mind flashes back to the sheer embarrassment he felt back when Gwen suddenly dropped down into his room from a portal and began to leaf through his old sketchbook, finding one too many drawings of her own face in the pages.

The memories snapped him out of his weird love-induced haze and forced him to shamefully fold over the corner of the page and hide those little hearts.

First, you ran away from him after you figured out he was an MJ, now you're obsessed with him. ¿Quién te puedes entender?

The sound of Miles' conscience was taking the harsh shape of his mother's voice. Not good.

He sighed and shut his sketchbook, shoving it into his backpack that was webbed onto the wall right next to him. Crime never slept, but it did have its ebbs and flows that Miles found himself in tune with as the months went by. This hour on a Thursday evening happened to be one of the slower hours for crime fighting, it seemed.

Regardless, he yanked his bag from its sticky confines and brushed the webs off, straightening himself up from his position and mindlessly checking his phone for any pressing updates.

Finding none, and with nothing much else to do... he sent MJ a quick text.

Miles: Busy rn?

He knocked himself on the forehead for it, knowing he might regret what he was about to propose but... he couldn't get the guy out of his head. He was dreaming about MJ on the regular now, which was never a good sign. Might as well see if he was up to doing any crazy last-minute stunts since the heart seemed to want what it wanted.

The reply came almost immediately after.

MJ: Nope, just surrounded by a pile of annoying hw, why do you ask?

Miles grinned as he typed a quick reply, hit send, and shot a web up to climb to the roof of the building.

Miles: I'm thinking I'm like... about a 15 mins walk away from your place. Wanna hang? I can swing by

He can almost taste the eye roll in MJ's replies, which made him smile beneath his mask.

MJ: You're corny as hell and that's exactly why you're my friend

MJ: Just give me a few to get ready

Miles sends back an affirmative, and tucks his phone right into his bag's side pocket which he then throws over a shoulder. He turns towards the general direction that MJ's penthouse apartment is located, right over the Brooklyn Bridge.

On his way there, he rehearses all of the coolest lines he could think of, not quite hoping to impress his friend or anything, but hoping that maybe MJ won't see him for the weird dork everyone else treats him as. And... to also keep him from suspecting anything or whatever.

They've hung out together countless times before, after their initial meetup. And not once did flawless-fashionable-cool-model MJ make him feel like he was ever uncool or off-putting. Maybe that was why Miles was so infatuated with him, when it came down to it. Still a good idea to play it safe, just in case.

It would have served Miles much better if he gave this friendship an even wider berth, retained his mysterious reputation... but there was something so arresting about MJ's eyes, his mannerisms and gentleness that contrasted so sharply with his quick wit, surprising bravery and intelligence.

Miles can shoot off the wittiest lines on the planet, but at the end of the day, he was still a boy with a crush. Alas.

In the time that he vaulted around NYC as Earth-1610's Spiderman, Miles developed a knack for snappy one-liners that MJ seemed to find endearing. Whenever they were together, they often fell into good-natured jabs and quips at each other, and he was so enamoured by it.

And it seemed like they just... naturally fell into the gravity of each other's orbit often anyways. Miles would look up into a crowd anywhere at Visions and immediately be able to find MJ. Like he developed an MJ-sense alongside his own spidery ones.

Two twin stars locked in orbit, a binary system forever hurtling through space together.

God, he really needed to get it together. That was super cheesy even for him, and he watched Titanic on his laptop damn near a hundred times at this point.

The thought had him yanking on his webs much harder and flying through the late evening air just to burn off the heat that built up in his gut.

He had to quickly remind himself that regardless of whatever happened between them, he promised that he would forever cherish it all. Miles wasn't an idiot, he knew that being Spiderman put a dampener on a lot of his relationships in life. It was a constant tug-of-war between him and his parents, and Ganke often reminds him of how absent he is at school, even when he's present.

Whatever happens between him and MJ in the future is whatever happens. Miles has already made peace with the inevitability of reality, like he so often needed to in this life. No need to get his hopes up.

Sobering up, Spiderman does several somersaults in the air before attaching a web onto the corner of MJ's swanky high-rise located not too far from the bridge. He sticks to the reflective glass and lets gravity do all the work for him as he drops down a few stories, hoping he was just a quick black blur that could be chalked up to just being a bird of some kind in case anyone happened to glance out their windows.

He hasn't been over to MJ's apartment at all, but knows the building from the outside very well thanks to the two friends' prior escapades. MJ's mom was strict according to him, and after sneaking them both out of the window to go to a mall or hang out at a park, swing around the city a bit and then drop MJ off back home, Spiderman was well acquainted with his bedroom window as a result.

He finds it again effortlessly and hangs upside down by a web, slowly lowering himself into view.

MJ's eyes light up immediately upon seeing him. He perks up, gets up from his computer chair to carefully lock the bedroom door and moves right back to his window.

"Well hello there, Spiderman! Glad you could make it." MJ smiles warmly, keeping his voice down. "Sorry, mom and the team are in the living room and I just told her I'm lockin' myself in here to study as hard as I can. Finals coming up and all... but we don't have too much time."

"Which is why you're only stepping out for a bit of air, right? Real quick, I promise." Spiderman replies good-naturedly. "It'll help clear your head."

MJ huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "Where would I be without you?"

"It's Spiderman's job to help all of the citizens of New York... and you look like you could use it, so,"

MJ slides his window open even wider, already throwing a leg over the sill. "My hero."

Together, they drop down a few stories, just free-falling and enjoying the chill of the late evening for a few seconds, shrouded by the dusk's descent that was already darkening the vast sky above them.

MJ gasps breathlessly when Spiderman shoots out a web and sends them sailing over congested streets filled to the brim with cars and trucks, over tall street lamps and past bright digital billboards advertising all kinds of products.

They zoom past more buildings, arcing gracefully around corners. At one point, MJ dares to loosen a grip on Spiderman's shoulders and splay his fingers out against the wind.

They fly together like birds for a minute more, soaring through the air and then rounding right back on the path they carved into it so Spiderman could deposit his friend right back home.

MJ said they didn't have much time, right? And Miles was satisfied with their short little hangout anyhow. He got his hands on his crush, had him clinging onto his arms and his neck the entire time they were airborne. It was getting late and he had to head back to Visions himself as well.

"Take me up to the roof real quick," MJ pants into his ear. Miles tries very hard not to think too much about that as he wordlessly follows orders and makes a beeline for the roof access.

Together, they land near the edge, overlooking the concrete jungle that was Manhattan, surrounded on all sides by tall buildings that seemed to reach up to heavens, still much taller than MJ's own building.

It was a miracle they weren't seen together, but that might've been because of the glitter and glitz of the city night all around them. New Yorkers never really looked up anyways.

Below them, the traffic and the bustle of the city continued at its usual pace; a constant thrum of vibrations, sounds and lights as they flowed up and down the streets like blood cells traveling through veins.

Both boys leaned their elbows onto the roof's raised edge and peered all around them, enjoying their temporary peace, catching their breath.

"I'm real glad I met you, you know?" MJ says, uncharacteristically sincere. His face was an open door now, but he was still unable to meet Spiderman's eyes.

Miles thought it might be appropriate to keep his mask on for now.

"Man, I only swung us around for like a few minutes. You don't need to confess your love for me, I'll take a thanks as payment. That's all." He joked but still tried to keep the sarcasm light. Didn't want to ruin the moment, after all.

MJ offered a crooked smirk at that, but then sobered up again. "Nah, really, man. I mean it. I'm not sure where I'd be right now if I hadn't transferred over to Visions and literally bumped into you. Crazy how life works like that, huh?"

"Right, especially since you were my biggest fan before that," Miles reminds him. "Serendipity or whatever."

MJ nods slowly. "Serendipity. Yeah... exactly. Sorry. What did you just say?"

Caught off guard, Miles hesitates for a bit. Play dumb, Morales!

"Uhh, what did I just say?"

MJ laughs, punching Miles on the arm before folding his own arms over his chest. "I was a fan of the old Spiderman before you came along. When he died..." he averts his eyes, studying his shoes. "Yeah, that sucked. But then you came along out of the blue... anyways. I just took it as a sign, that's all."

Miles dramatically wilts against the side of the roof. "Daaamnn, bro. I just swung you around the city for a bit! I gave you a free ride, and I don't even get to be your favorite? I see how it is."

MJ bursts out laughing. "Don't worry, Spiderman," he says, holding up his hands placatingly. "You're on your way to replacing him soon enough! Keep giving me those free rides. And uh... thanks," he finishes lamely, raising his hand to shoot his friend a salute. "Yeah. Thanks. For this."

They smile sheepishly at each other for a few seconds and Miles swears he's going to start roasting alive in his suit pretty soon from the way the warmth in his chest was radiating outward towards every limb.

Butterflies were swirling inside of his gut and he swears he can hear the sappy music from a romance movie Miles watched recently playing somewhere near them. Maybe now was the time to... stop avoiding his feelings? Take that leap of faith, right?

He's done it many times before. This time was probably no different than any other time where he's been thrown way out of his comfort zone only to be kinda glad it happened, in retrospect.

He opened his mouth and started to speak at the same time MJ did.

"So, Em--"

"Uh, so--"

They jumped in unison, wide eyes meeting wide lenses. MJ dipped his head.

"Oh, sorry I was--" Miles chuckled, bopping his forehead with a hand. "S-sorry, what were you gonna say?"

He winced at the jarring awkwardness of it all. The sappy music went silent, the mood thoroughly ruined.

"Oh, well, uh--" MJ looked just as flustered as Miles felt. "N-nah, sorry, I was just gonna say that... that it's been a little while now. So I should probably be heading back," he gestured awkwardly over his shoulder towards the side of the building, trailing off.

"Riiiight, right. Yeah, duh. Of course. Just, uh," Miles turns so his back is facing his friend, gesturing at it as if to say hop on. "Lost track of time, I guess. My bad,"

"What were you gonna say?" MJ asks, right next to Miles' ear as always.

Silently, Miles tucks that part of himself away again for later.

He was really 100% willing to risk it all and go for it, just fully display all of that for a measly chance at getting to date the most popular kid at school right now, and one of the coolest people that he's ever met. He would kick himself if he weren't carrying him right there on his back.

What a stupid idea, Miles. Real dumb, even for you.

In a fraction of a second, he stuffs his emotions right back down in him. Time and place. Not the time, not the place, he reasons. They'd just met a few months ago, and they got off on a pretty rocky start. It just wasn't the time to be making such rash decisions. Yeah, that was it.

"Nah, forget it. I think I was just gonna ask if you wanted to come with me and Ganke to our favorite comic shop this weekend, but that's a dumb question--"

MJ suddenly squeezed his hands tighter around Miles' shoulders. "Duh! It's a dumb question because the answer is obviously yes, of course."

"You like comic books!? Since when?" Miles exclaimed in shock.

"I'm beating you as the top student in chem class right now. You are not nerdier than me. Stop playin' with me." MJ grumbles grumpily. He digs his chin vindictively into Miles' shoulder.

Miles' loud bark of laughter echoed off the rooftop as he takes a running leap towards the ledge, hops on it and promptly sends them plummeting several stories down.

MJ's cry echoed around them even louder.

After about a minute or so, MJ's back inside of his room and they're both trying very hard to suppress laughter so hard that their cheeks hurt and they're crying tears.

Thankfully, outside of the bedroom door, MJ's family never heard a thing.

[brittlebutch]

i kind of hate to say it because i feel like i'll get pushback for it,,, but i kind of feel like if you're going to be making informational posts about autism online you do need to be reading actual autism research and literature. at least some of the times. like you can't just make things up and then present them as fact.