#i know this is a lot to read and i thank you for your time <3

[hairmetal666]

Steve has done interviews before. Like, a lot of interviews. YouTube, podcasts, print, TV stuff. Not as a brag, or anything, just. He's been an influencer for a long time, for better or worse, and it's part of the deal.

Usually, he's comfortable in front of the camera. Usually, he's poised and well-spoken. But today, this time, sweat pools under his arms and beads along his hairline, the lights beating down on him in a harsh glare.

"Steve Harrington," Murray Bauman crosses his legs, smiles big for the cameras. "It's been a while."

He smiles too, tries to seem like he's not about to have a panic attack. "I've been a little busy."

Murray laughs and it's then that Steve understands how screwed he really is. Murray's show, it's all glitz and glamour on the surface; mixed drinks and hijinks until the celebrity guests lose their inhibitions, admitting things they probably wanted to keep secret.

It's just that, before, Steve didn't have any salacious rumors to worry about, and now--

"You've had a rough year, Steve, yeah?"

"Not my best, for sure." He leans back, tries to seem calm, unbothered.

"I was sorry to hear about your divorce. I think that announcement really took a lot of people by surprise."

His hands clench, but he manages not to shift or bounce his leg. "Thanks for, uh. Yeah. We were also sorry it didn't work out."

Murray nods, face full of sympathy. "You and Nancy, you'd been together since high school? That's almost--what? 15 years?"

"It's--" he clears his throat. "About that long." Steve takes a sip of the drink next to him, an apple martini that's both too sweet and too strong.

"Am I right to assume that you didn't see it coming?"

And isn't that a question? Sure, now in hindsight, he can see the fractures that lead to the end, but six months ago did he--it's all so--what if all along--

"All marriages have rough patches," is what he says. "We just couldn't come out of ours as a couple."

"Do you know what I've found really remarkable about this phase of your life? The content and tone of your videos in the midst of the maelstrom of rumors and gossip didn't change at all. 'Your kids' as you call them, are still as bright and vibrant as ever. You're laughing, dancing, cooking, having a great time."

"I needed that--that normalcy you know? And the kids, they're such an important part of my life, having them around helped."

"Including Nancy's brother, Mike?"

Steve laughs and it's not fake. "Totally including Mike. My relationship with Nancy has nothing to do with my relationship with him."

"He's kind of an antagonist--would you say?--in your videos, though."

"We have conflict sometimes, but it's never serious. We know how to play it up for laughs."

"So, nothing's changed between you?"

"Not at all."

"The cheating rumors." Murray's smile is soft, but all the air still leaves the room.

"What about them?" It's more combative than he means, but--

"Did Nancy cheat on you with Jonathan Byers?"

He swallows and it hurts. She did cheat, is the thing. It's not public information, still only speculation, but--

"You can't believe everything you read, Murray."

"So, she didn't cheat?" There's a glow to Murray's eyes that tells Steve he already knows the answer.

"Like, I said before, marriages are hard. We spent a lot of time apart because of our jobs. It took a toll."

"And she was traveling with Jonathan, yes? He's been her photographer for the past decade, from what I understand."

"They were co-workers, but we're all close. And those rumors didn't help our relationship, for sure. It's--not easy to hear that a bunch of people think your wife and close friend may be having an affair, that people 'ship' them. Even when it's not true, it creates--"

"Tension? Distrust?"

"Both, probably." He takes another drink as he nods. "After a while you do start to wonder if there's truth to it, and you're too ignorant or too--too trusting to see it."

"And it eroded the relationship."

"It certainly didn't help." He takes another drink.

"And how about your relationship with Jonathan's brother, Will. Has that been impacted?"

"Of course not. Never. Whatever happens between Nancy, Jonathan, and I, it has nothing to do with the kids. They know that.

"You talked about it."

"Yes. Extensively."

"I know there's often speculation on the relationship you have with them; if you're really close or it's all for the cameras."

"Murray." He leans forward. "We've talked about this before. I met Dustin through Mike, and the whole group followed. I've known them all since they were 8 years old. They're--I mean, not to be cliche, but they're my family." He sips the last bit of martini.

"And where does Eddie Munson fit into that family?"

The question shouldn't be a surprise, but he almost does a spit take, has to fight to keep it together.

"Eddie?"

"Yes." Murray's smile is chilling. "Your close friend Eddie Munson. Musician. Plays Dungeons and Dragons on YouTube. You made out with him in a music video. Ringing any bells?"

"I'm familiar with Eddie," his grin is rigid. "I don't know what that has to do with my marriage ending."

"Well, the rumors weren't all about Nancy, were they?"

"Eddie and I have--we became mutuals online years and years ago. I used one of his songs in a video and the kids are obsessed with his dnd stuff, so. We've become close."

"Friends?"

"Isn't that implied?"

"After that music video, I don't think so."

Steve rolls his eyes, lets the irritation show for the first time. "He asked me to be in his video. There's nothing scandalous about it."

"What's your relationship with Eddie right now?"

"Like I said, friends."

"Do you want it to be more than that?"

"Eddie's really important to me."

"Is that all?"

"Not really sure what you want me to say here, Murray."

"You were married to a woman for years, but now there are questions about your sexuality."

He grits his teeth. "My sexuality isn't anyone's business aside my own. People can say shit on Twitter all they want, that doesn't mean they know me. But--the end of my marriage--it definitely gave me the space for self-discovery, I guess? In a way I hadn't had before."

"And is Eddie a part of that self-discovery?"

"Yeah, as one of my closest friends, he is."

"Do you have feelings for him?"

"That's--that's not--I'm going through a divorce. My focus isn't on starting another relationship right now."

"You, famously, tattooed your initials on the inside of his thigh during an Instagram live. That's pretty intimate."

"We were just having a little fun."

"Huh. That seems like more than 'a little fun' to me. So, how's Eddie doing with the increased attention?"

It takes Steve a second to track the change of subject, mind still stuck on the tattoo, on how the ink had looked on Eddie's pale skin.

"It's hard." Steve eventually answers. "Of course he enjoys bringing his music and dnd to a wider audience, but the focus on his personal life is--it's a lot."

"Well, he should have thought about before letting you tattoo him for your 850,000 followers. Does he want a relationship with you?"

His throat is dry, burning, he wishes he had more martini. He wishes he'd never taken a sip. "You'd have to ask him. I'm just taking it day by day, you know? That's what I need right now."

"We're getting to the end of our time, but you know I have to ask. Your best friend, Robin Buckley, she very famously unfollowed both Nancy and Jonathan on all social media when news broke about your divorce. Can you tell us why she unfollowed them?"

"I have no control over Robin's accounts. I didn't even know she followed Jonathan ever, and she and Nancy have a relationship outside of me, you know? I can't say what happened between them."

"She's been in your videos with Eddie. She like him?"

"Very much. It's kind of annoying actually. They keep ganging up on me."

"Much to everyone's delight, I'm sure. So, what can we expect from the newly single Steve Harrington?"

"There are a couple things in the works, but only time will tell."

---

He walks through his front door an hour later, and Eddie's sitting on the couch, playing a soft melody on an acoustic guitar. He stops when he sees Steve, setting the guitar aside, and standing.

"How'd it go, baby?" He asks. His soft smile is so beautiful, Steve gets a lump in his throat.

"As expected." He crosses the space between them, lets Eddie pull him close.

"He ask about us?" Eddie's breath tickles his ear.

"Of course."

"And you--"

"I want--it should be just for us. We should be able to announce when we're ready. Not when Murray-fucking-Bauman asks."

Eddie kisses him, then, sweet and slow, making him lose his breath.

"Whenever you're ready, I'll be right by your side."

"You sure? All my mess--"

"Is mine too. Afraid you're stuck with me for the long haul, Steve Harrington."

[darnell-la]

𝗜'𝗟𝗟 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧

pairing: old man!logan howlett x young female!reader

warnings: staring, rude people in public, Logan with no emotion, begging, oral (male receiving), riding, doggy, neck kisses, slightly forced cream pie, multiple orgasm, moans from both sides, very rough sex, angry animalistic Logan, etc.

request: Hi! I love your work, Could I request Oldman!Logan x young fem!reader (22 years) that has a baby fever and really wants to have Logan's baby (also to shut the mouths of those who make fun of her dating an older man), she decides to prepare a surprise for him so that he can get her pregnant soon. Reader is needy and Logan is rude.

note: Logan as always is mean and an over-thinker, but he can’t seem to not give what his perfect girl wants. A breeding session.

teaser - Logan gets kinda subby in here. can’t stop cumming…

———

How do you guys feel about an X-Men story with the reader? Logan is rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“Stop gettin’ in your feelings, Bub. They ain’t gon stop,” Logan said, talking about the people looking their way in the expensive restaurant Logan decided to take y/n out at.

“But, isn’t it rude? Why do they care so much about who I’m with? Or who you’re with!?” Y/n tried whispering and keeping her facial expressions normal. She didn’t want them to know she was bothered, but it wasn’t hard to see.

“Just relax, Bub — Ain’t nun gon happen with a few eyes lookin’ attcha,” Logan had picked up the menu to continue searching through what he wanted to order for himself and his girl.

“Are you two ready, or shall you get more time?” The man asked in an accent that made Logan roll his eyes. “Just appetizers for now. Gonna get the cheese bites with a side of marinara sauce, and two Caesar salads,”

“And drinks?” The waiter asked as he looked at y/n, wanting to hear the young lady talk as he was done listening to the older grumpy man.

“I’ll have a whiskey, no ice, and she’ll have water for now,” Logan ordered for her, eyes still on the menu as y/n faked a bright smile on her face so at least one of them looked like they wanted to be here.

“Are you sure that’s all you want? We have a lot of cocktails. Even mocktails if you’re not feeling alcohol going lady,” Logan laughed at the small sign the water gave. They always go.

“She’s fine, trust me,” Logan said, leaning his girl from head to toe. He knew her like a book. He knew her life at the back of his hands. He loved showing it too.

“I’m fine, thank you,” y/n smiled at the man as he looked at Logan. He wanted to speak, say something, but he couldn’t. Logan wasn’t actually doing anything to make the man complain.

“Get a load of that guy,” y/n rolled her eyes as he walked off. “Yep,” Logan said, not really caring. “Why are you always so calm? He was disrespecting us. Disrespecting you,” y/n said, confused about why the man never cared.

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? You’re making it seem like that fetus of a man shot at me,” y/n rolled her eyes and sat back as she crossed her arms, upset at the lack of care Logan had. She felt like she was the only one who cared about things.

Throughout the night, Logan made small talk with y/n to ease her mood. She tried to stay upset at the man, but the hand grabs, foot nudges, and complements made her melt

“Said you had a surprise for me, Bub?” Logan asked as the two made it into the hotel that Logan bought for the night. The top floor had a good view, a view he knew y/n would love.

“Yeah, but I thought we were going back to the house,” y/n pouted, a bit tipsy as Logan carried her through the door. “I know, and I apologize, princess. If you left it at the house, you can give it to me tomorrow. Or I can go get it now?” Logan suggested.

“No, no, you don’t have to do all that. I-I got it. I got it,” Y/n said as she kicked her heels off and walked towards the bed with Logan.

He had a few drinks, but that never affected him. She prayed it would tonight so she wouldn’t have to work hard, but she’ll deal with it.

Y/n knows Logan’s a hard one to crack, but the man loved her. He’s so anything for her, so a long session of begging or anything of that sort, would make him crack. Only for her.

“Get comfortable — I’ll be back,” Y/n said as she stumbled to the bathroom. Logan chuckled as he got undressed, already knowing y/n wanted to have sex. She always does, and he never says no.

Y/n didn’t take long to get stripped and walk out of the bathroom slowly. The lights were dim, and Logan sat up against the headboard of the bed, legs spread and waiting for his perfect girl.

“I-I know you’re against it, and I know you always shut me down, but tonight is special. I-I really, really want you tonight,” Y/n said, slowly crawling on the bed as Logan’s chest rose.

“You always get me, Bub, so what’s there to beg about?” Logan said as he rubbed his thighs. “I want you to cum in me,” y/n looked at him with those eyes he could barely say no to.

“Y/n, don’t start tonight. Ian tryna ruin the night,” Logan has rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Baby, please,” y/n begged, trailing her hands up his legs until they were mid-thigh.

“Keep beggin’ for that shit, and ima turn around and go to sleep,” Logan warned the girl, but she ignored him and put his cock in her hand. “C’mon, daddy, please,” y/n said, bringing out the word she used in once in a blue moon.

“Nah uh, get off, y/n. I told you what was gonna happen-“ Before he could finish, y/n wrapped her wet mouth around his tip, sucking down hard as her tongue moved up and down his slit.

“F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs shook as he gripped the sheets. “Y/n, remove your fucking mouth,” Logan demanded, but she ignored him, looking into his angry dark eyes as she slipped down onto his cock, taking all the inches in that she could.

“Y-Y/n!” The man groaned loudly, hips bucking as his hand went to her hair, pulling her up to get her off, but not strong enough. He was physically stronger than her, so she knew if he wanted her off, he’d get her off.

“Fuckin- Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ bad,” Logan said as his other hand cupped her cheek. “But you take my cock so well,” Logan admitted with a chuckle as he slowly began moving her head at a pace he wanted her to suck in.

“Always so fuckin’ needy — Needy little slut can’t just enjoy my cock. Always needs my cum to satisfy her,” Logan said, now moving his hips, allowing his cock to thrust up into her throat.

“That’s it, kid — Fuckin’ suck me up since you want it so bad. You ain’t gettin’ it in that cunt. You ain’t earn it yet,” Logan said, watching spit spill from her mouth.

Y/n did her best to look up and into his eyes. Her was glossy, streaming tears as he grew dark. He couldn’t hold back his deep groan at the sight of her taking his cock like this.

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” Logan said, getting angry at her. He hated how bad she was, but loved that she’d do anything to get what she wanted from him.

“Fuckin’ brat,” Logan growled, snapping his hips faster to make her gag and cough on his cock. Maybe if she was too busy trying to focus on taking him, she’d stop silently begging for him to breed her.

It’s not like the man didn’t want to. He was just insecure. Yeah, he and y/n had been dating for a while, but the people roaming about are right. At least that’s what he thought at the time.

What if he is too old for her? He’d basically be baby-trapping her if he gave her what she wanted. He swore she’d regret it.

He forced himself to think that way, but every time y/n took his cock, rather that was with her mouth, cunt, ass, or anything, she’s beg him to breed her. Something in him knew she wanted it, but the other part held him back.

“Fuck, y/n, stop it! Stop fucking looking at me like that!” Logan shouted at the girl, an animalistic tone slipping out as he fucked her throat.

Y/n didn’t stop. She continued, whether her eyes could barely stay on him or not, she kept looking up at him, begging him to breed her.

“Y/n, I can’t — I fucking can’t,” the man had thrown his head back, whining as he felt himself near. He’s me we did that before, but him trying to yell her no but also seeing her beg, was too much for him. He was overstimulated by his thoughts.

Y/n slapped Logan’s hands off of him and quickly crawled onto him. She grabbed his cock and aligned herself with him before sitting down.

The moan that escaped her mouth made his eyes widen. “F-Fuck, kid, stop it!” Logan said, but his hands came to her waist and kept her in place. She tried to bounce, but he didn’t even allow her to do that.

Logan’s feel curled as his fingernails dug into her sides, causing her to feel in pain, but also pleasure. “Do it, daddy, please,” was all had to say on his cock before he jumped over the edge.

Logan’s mouth parted as his whole body stuttered. No noises came from his mouth for a second as y/n felt his warm seed coat her walls.

“Yes! Yes, daddy, yes!” Y/n cried out with happiness before she buried her face into the crook of his neck, sucking into his skin hard. That pulled all of his groans and moans out.

Logan’s hands wrapped around the girl's back and waist, pulling her into his body as she grinned against his pelvis, letting her swollen bud feel all the affection it needed.

“Please, more, Logan. Please. Please,” y/n continued rubbing against him as her whole body felt numb. She was going to cum, and Logan knew it. Damn her.

“Fuck, kid — F-Fuck,” Logan’s legs kicked as he tried keeping himself in, but he couldn’t. She squeezed him so hard for him not to do what she’d been begging for, for the longest.

“Y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as his nails broke the skin on the young girl's back and waist. “Yes, yes!” Y/n almost cried as her body kicked up and she came, sucking the man too hard. To damn hard.

Logan’s mouth parted once again as his eyes crossed, feeling too much pleasure as he spilled into y/n for the second time and took the love bites y/n gave him on his neck.

Logan was pissed. He was so damn pissed at y/n for not listening to him. He wanted to punish her, but how? How could he after he bred her? He wouldn’t be able to pull out. And fuck a condom. He was fucked. He broke the promise he kept to himself. He really fucking loves her to let her do this to him.

“You’re so fuckin’ bad, y/n,” Logan breathed out into y/n’s ear, alarming her. He wasn’t relaxed. He was angry. “You like gettin’ what you want?” The man asked as he slowly lifted y/n off of him. She was being held in the air.

“Then ima give you what you fucking want,” before y/n knew what he meant, the man flipped the two, allowing him to hover over her.

“S-Sorry, I just- I really needed you. I-I love you so much, and I-I — I want you to give me a baby. I-If you don’t want it, I-I’ll just take the plan b tomorrow. I promise,” y/n couldn’t stop stuttering.

She felt a slight fear. She knew how Logan got, and now that he’d already come in her, he’d be worse.

“Fuck that plan b. You wanna baby? Then deal with the fucking consequences,” Logan turned y/n around and forced her onto her hands and knees. Before she could process anything, he plunged into her.

“Fuuck!” Y/n screamed at the new angle and the hard thrust. “Shut the fuck up, and take it,” the man groaned as a hand came down on her ass. “Take my fuckin’ kid, since you wasn’t em so damn bad,” he added.

Y/n cried into the sheets, thinking he couldn’t fuck her hard until his claws came out. He’d never done this before, but she knew what he was up to.

The man’s claws punched into the wall right in front of the two. He gripped tightly, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere before he pounded her into the mattress.

The young girl's neck and back belt pain. He was breaking her and didn’t care. She wanted this.

“Lot,” y/n whined, not being able to say what she had to say. She was beyond fucked. “Don’t worry, Bub — You’re gonna make a damn good mom,” Logan said, making sure she knew he was up for this.

Y/n slightly smiled as her cunt quivered, finally letting out another orgasm as her eyes closed. “S-So good,” she said as she slipped away. “I know, baby — I know,” the man growled.

Logan never stopped his thrust, making sure she’d feel the soreness when she woke up. And the loads he was going to leave in her.

[b0nesforshow]

€D TIPS !!!

to make your life easier

these are tips to make your life EASIER with a restrictive €d! take it from someone who has learned from past mistakes :)

1. DO NOT WEIGH YOURSELF EVERY SINGLE DAY! thats the biggest and most important thing on this list! as someone who used to weigh herself every hour of every day, it reaaaaaally ruins your mental health. You CANNOT gain if youre heavily restricting. The pounds you gain on the scale even tho you restricted are not actual weight.

TAKE A DEEP BREATH!

The best thing i did for my mental health is to weigh myself every 3-4 days! That way the w€ightloss seems even more significant and you‘ll feel so much more accomplished!

2. DO NOT eat foods that make you bloated! I made the mistake of eating a lot of broccoli and then i was bloated for days and i felt AWFUL! Now i know that i dont like what i see in the mirror when i eat that, so i just avoid it all together.

3. Take a progress pic every month. BUT NOT EVERYDAY! Once again, with more time passed between two comparisons you will see much bigger results. Stay consistent and it will pay off anyways.

4. If you get cold really easily, LAYER LAYER LAYER! And always carry small heat patches with you

5. Hydrate yourself like that‘s your passion. Drink stupid amounts of water but ALSO SUGAR FREE DRINKS! If it makes you happy, drink lots of diet coke! I swear by my diet coke and idc if its unhealthy. we have an €d, we really shouldnt care about health when it comes to diet drinks. indulge.

6. do not work out when youre sick. i made the mistake and it took forever to recover. let your body rest and then you can pick up where you left off. but pleaaaase dont force yourself ever. it only makes everything worse.

THATS IT FOR NOW THANKS FOR READING LY BYE

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

baby steps. l Joel Miller

Summary: you were his very quiet companion on patrols

Warnings:  angst, a little bit of swearing, mentioning pregnancy, mentioning loss of a child, mentioning abortion, mentioning suicidal thoughts, generally - a lot of unpleasant things, Reader is 30s or sth, I guess

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a long time. There are some not so nice things (read the Warnings!) but I hope the whole story won't be so awful. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

and i would like to thank you for the few kind words i have received recently. it scared me but was very nice. thank you!

The first time he met you was at Tipsy Bison when Tommy told him you would be his new partner on patrols. Footsteps were barely audible, and then a chair on the other side of the table moved and you sat down. 

Your eyes stopped on Joel's face for a moment, you nodded in greeting. The name quietly fell from your lips, and then you focused on the map that Tommy had spread out on the table.

Joel wasn't sure if you understood what his brother was saying to you. You were silent, sometimes nodding your head, nothing more.

"Is she even good for this?" Joel finally muttered as you said goodbye and left.

"What do you mean?" Tommy folded the map and put it in his jacket pocket.

Joel raised his eyebrows "She seems a little... I don't know. Distant?"

A quiet laugh escaped Tommy's lips "Really? And who's talking?" he took a few sips of coffee "Joel, you wouldn't patrol together if I wasn't sure she was good. She may not be the life of the party, but she's great at what she does."

Joel had the impression that he had seen you a few times in Jackson, but you were one of those people who kept their distance from others. So he looked like that to others too?

It was only the first patrol with you that made him change his mind about you, but he wasn't sure yet if this change was for the better. 

You were definitely not one of those people who needed to talk. Small talk wasn't for you, but you listened very carefully. 

The area around Jackson was no stranger to you, just like handling a gun. So Joel got used to you, and over time he even managed to get some information out of you.

You had been in Jackson for almost five years, you lived alone in a small apartment. You were alone. "That's the best way." No family or close friends, except for Maria. You were patrolling and searching for supplies. He was also sure he saw you in the library, but he never asked about it.

After a few months, Joel could clearly tell that you were the right person for the job. He even managed to make you laugh a few times or talk a little longer. You never asked him about the past, and when he asked you about it, you answered "We're at an age where everyone has some background, right? But not everything is suitable for talking about it."

"Your girlfriend seems nice." Ellie stated one day, and seeing his confused face added "I talked to her today. She said that this crap didn't let her finish high school, so now she's catching up on school readings. If I were her, I wouldn't bother. School sucks."

The warm coffee warmed his tired body, but after a moment he spoke up "You talked to her? When? And... She's not my girlfriend."

Ellie shrugged "We talk a lot. And you don't? You spend a lot of time together, I thought that..."

"You were wrong." Joel mumbled "Did she say anything else?"

The girl looked at him carefully. "You really don't know her very well, do you?"

He wasn't sure if he knew you at all. Did he have the right to demand that from you? You did your job thoroughly, he could rely on you, and despite everything you were still standing somewhere in the shadows, hiding from everyone.

"Is everything okay with you?"

Your voice tore him out of his reverie for a moment. You were walking through a quiet area, the fading grass crunching under your feet, and the cold wind slowly became more and more severe.

"Yeah, everything's okay." he replied, glancing at you over his shoulder "I was lost in thought."

"I saw. Good thoughts?"

Joel cleared his throat and stopped, and a moment later you stood in front of him, looking at him uncertainly. 

You really liked him. Miller might seem like a grump, but his personality didn't bother you at all. Women in Jackson also said he was handsome. You had a lot of time to watch him outside the city, you had to admit they were right too. But that wasn't what mattered, was it? You felt safe with him and you trusted him, that was important.

"Doesn't Ellie tire you out?" he asked finally.

"What?" you burst out laughing "Come on. I like her. She asks a lot of questions, but she's a cool girl. I remember when I was her age..."

You stopped as if the thought slowed down your thinking the moment it appeared in your head. Joel saw your eyes wandering around the area with an unseeing gaze.

"Were you her age when this started?" he asked, but you shook your head slightly "Older?"

"Not much." Your voice was quiet but calm "I was a senior in high school. It seems so stupid now... I had a crush on this one guy, fuck, I don't know why I thought of him now."

"It was important back then." Joel mumbled, absorbing your every word. "And your family?"

"They died. A long time ago." The answer was quick, but emotionless. "Why do you ask?"

Joel shrugged. "I don't know. Just like that. Maybe I'd like to get to know you better."

You nodded, analyzing his words for a moment. "You're weird sometimes, Miller." You finally stated. "Conversations like this don't lead anywhere. They only reopen old wounds."

You adjusted your rifle strap and moved forward.

Fall had come for good, and you were slowly starting to withdraw even more. He could see it. Patrols were almost completely silent, he rarely saw you among people or at evening community meetings. 

Even Ellie convinced him that something was going on, because when he asked her she said that she hadn't talked to you in a while.

"It's that time of year." Maria said when he asked her about you too, he was helping her fix the heating in her house. "You should get used to it, Joel. But... I didn't know you were so interested in her."

"It's not like that." he mumbled, but he felt a strange warmth creep up the back of his neck. "She's my partner on patrol. I want to know that she's okay."

"I get it." Maria nodded and sat down on the couch. "Have you talked to her?"

"I've tried, but you know perfectly well that it's not easy. You're her friend." the woman smiled gently. "Is there something she's not telling me?"

"A lot of things, Joel. Just like you, she's not very open to confiding. And this time of year..." she looked out the window where the wind was playing with the fallen leaves. "You should talk to her yourself, if you care about her. But you can also forget about it, be like everyone else, pass her on the street and just let her be. It shouldn't be that hard for you, right?"

And that was something he couldn't get out of his head.

When he saw that guy instead of you the next morning, a strange shiver ran down his spine. "She's sick." Mark said, pushing leather gloves onto his hands. "I'll replace her."

Joel nodded and they set off on patrol. However, his thoughts kept returning to you, he analyzed your last meeting, the last words you exchanged. You were even more subdued. He had the impression that he was forcing the next words out of you, and you just wanted to leave, to disappear.

"She's weird, but pretty." Mark replied when they took a break for hot coffee and a sandwich. "A few guys hit on her, but nothing came of it. Actually, I was hoping that you and her, you know..." he winked at Joel. "But maybe she's that type of person."

"What type?" Joel asked, chewing a bite of his sandwich.

"In times like these, people need each other. They want to at least pretend that things are normal." Mark explained, reaching for the thermos of coffee "And others simply adapt to it. They don't want to have anyone close to them, because it's risky, you know. I guess she's like that. A lone wolf."

But Joel wasn't entirely sure, because he knew you from a slightly different side, or at least that's what he thought. When he showed up at your door that evening, only silence greeted him. And it was the same for the next few days.

"Yeah, she's still in Jackson." Maria was sure of her words "I visited her yesterday, but I don't think..."

That was enough for him. That strange fear was creeping into Joel's heart again. He didn't know why. He was afraid, and all his thoughts kept running to you. It was as if a strange force was pulling him towards you.

"Hey! It's me. Open up." he knocked on your door, but it didn't help "I know you're there. I want to talk. You can't keep hiding."

No answer.

"I can easily break down this door." he declared "I'll make a mess and you'll just be embarrassed. I can do this, you know that. So... On three?" he cleared his throat as if he was preparing to actually do it "One!" Nothing. "Two!" he thought he heard quiet footsteps on the other side. He was about to open his mouth when the door opened slightly and he saw your face.

"You'll hurt your shoulder. It'll be my fault and you'll be excluded from patrols for a long time." you said "That's pointless. Go away."

"I'm not going until you talk to me." Joel replied, his dark eyes full of stubbornness that you knew so well "You can't keep hiding."

"Maybe I'm sick?"

"You don't seem to be."

And then with one strong push he opened the door and before you could stop him he went inside. His gaze swept the apartment, he heard your protests but didn't care. 

Like a storm he passed through the small living room, peeked into the kitchen and when he entered the bedroom he found what he was looking for.

"Fuck! Get out of here!" you hissed, rushing after him, but then you noticed the bottle of whiskey he had taken from your nightstand.

"And these are bedtime snacks?" he growled, throwing a box full of medicines to the floor. "You robbed a fucking pharmacy?"

"None of your business!" you replied, he saw the fury in your eyes. "You're the last person who should be judging me."

"Or maybe I can, because I'm the only one who's ever shown up at your fucking door? What did you want to do, huh?" he put the bottle down with a bang and walked up to you, but you didn't take a single step back. "We were supposed to find you only when the stairwell started to stink? Did you think about Maria? About Ellie? That girl really likes you. Did you think about..."

About me.

Your gaze, although full of tears, was unwavering. You stood there, arms folded across your chest, your throat constricted so tightly that you couldn't swallow.

"Joel..." his name sounded like a prayer in your mouth. "I don't know what you were thinking, but this doesn't concern you. You shouldn't even be here. I tried to keep you out of this."

"Why?" his voice was a little calmer "Why are you like this? I can't figure it out. At first I thought we just didn't know each other well, but after so many months. I heard how freely you talked to Maria, Tommy said that you used to babysit their kid. I don't understand it!"

You closed your eyes as if his words brought you pain, as if they evoked all the emotions in you that you wanted to hide. Tears ran down your cheeks, and a quiet sob escaped your throat.

"I don't know how to deal with this, Joel..." you whispered after a moment, looking at him with eyes full of pain "It all hurts me so much. Every day. Patrols with you were an escape for me, you didn't ask stupid questions, I could feel safe there. But it's all always for a moment."

Joel approached you, his warm hand caressed your arm "You can tell me everything, you know that." you nodded "Come on, sit down."

He closed the bedroom door behind you as if he was leaving something unpleasant and bad there, and then sat down next to you on the couch. When you calmed down a bit, you looked at him like never before, almost with tenderness.

"When I came to Jackson, five years ago, I wasn't alone." you started slowly.

"Were you with someone? With some group?" Joel frowned, trying to remember that detail that must have escaped his attention.

You shook your head. "No, Joel. I wasn't alone, because I was pregnant."

Something twisted his guts. He didn't expect this.

"It was the middle of the seventh month, I guess. It's hard to get regular doctor's visits these days." The little joke was probably meant to lighten the mood, but even you didn't smile. "I've had a long journey. I was alone. Almost." you took a deep breath, and Joel felt his hands go cold and trembling in an instant. "It's funny, you know. Long time ago, women my age already had two kids. And I was completely unplanned pregnant and I hated every single day. I didn't want this baby, but it was there. It was growing. It was alive. I could feel it."

"What about the father?" Joel asked quietly.

A strange grimace crossed your face at the mere memory. "He wasn't father material, if that's what you mean. Some random guy. You know, as women we have another bargaining chip. Something that really tempts some men. Something we can use to survive."

He knew perfectly well what you meant. He had seen many women like that, but he didn't judge them. Everyone did what they had to to survive.

"He was nice, if that's any consolation. We stuck together for a while, and then we went our separate ways. After a while, I found out I was pregnant. But I didn't have anyone or anything at hand to help me solve this... problem." you rubbed your forehead with your hand as if you wanted to get rid of bad memories "Some guy told me about someone who could get rid of it manually, but I was afraid of infection. Then it was too late. Days and weeks passed, and I hated myself and this baby. The nausea was killing me. I was no longer good at smuggling. I also had no idea what I would do with a crying newborn... I got to Jackson, I thought maybe someone here would help me. Maria was so wonderful." a faint smile appeared on your lips, but you weren't even looking at Joel anymore. Your gaze was fixed on your clasped hands "I started bleeding a few days after I arrived. Then everything happened so quickly... The doctor at the clinic couldn't do anything. I had to give birth, but... There was so much blood... And silence. There was no baby crying."

Joel felt as if a heavy stone was resting in his stomach. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face, but he couldn't say any words that could comfort you. And what the hell would they sound like. But you didn't wait for that, the words slowly flowed from your lips. 

"The doctor said that my body was too weak, that long fatigue, improper diet, that he was too weak... I had a son. He was so small when Maria put him in my arms... And he was so perfect. I was so afraid that his crying would bring trouble to us, that he decided to be quiet."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault..." Joel finally choked out "Things like that..."

"Happens. I know that." You interrupted him calmly "But it was my fault, Joel. When I saw him... I would have given my life so he could cry, so I could know he was healthy and strong. How could I have ever thought otherwise? What kind of person am I?"

Your voice broke. You looked exhausted and tired of life. Joel understood your guilt perfectly, he knew what you felt. Sarah appeared in his head in an instant.

"I had a daughter." His voice broke the long silence between you. "I lost her right at the beginning."

"I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet, but full of something that gave him some relief.

"After everything I wanted..." he cleared his throat "I wanted to do the same thing you wanted. I even tried, but... I know how you feel, it's so devastating, and it will never get easier."

"I still have him in my mind, you know. He'd be five now. He'd ask a thousand questions, and I'd have to make sure he doesn't get into trouble. Sometimes I think about what it would be like, but then I hate myself even more... I didn't want him. I wanted to get rid of him. Maybe it's because of this..."

"Don't say that." Joel grabbed your hands and squeezed them tightly. "You might have thought so. You were alone, and this world had gone mad. You got into Jackson, you could be safe here, but... These things happen."

You watched him carefully. Never before had you and Joel spoken so intimately, but you didn't feel embarrassed by it. On the contrary, it was the first time someone had really meant it when they said "I understand you."

"I'm sure she was beautiful." you said quietly.

"She was. And very smart. Much smarter than me." Joel added. "She probably would have gone to college or something."

For a moment, silence reigned again. You had the impression that you were both lost in your thoughts about the losses that affected you. You weren't beating each other, you just allowed yourselves to feel it all again.

"Did you really want to kill yourself?" his question brought you back to reality for a moment.

You nodded. "Look at me, Joel. I have nothing, no one. I don't know if I could ever get close to someone again. And all these thoughts only make me feel worse. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel anything anymore."

He understood it perfectly. After Sarah died, he felt that this world wasn't for him. Every day was torture, and the longer it lasted, the more he closed himself in his shell. Years passed, and Joel barricaded himself so much that no one and nothing could get him out. 

And then Ellie appeared.

"You know..." he began uncertainly trying to find the right words. "I know what I'm going to say will seem pointless to you, but sometimes it's worth gritting your teeth and trying to live on. Not jumping into the deep end right away, but slowly, day by day. I know that your son..."

The name you gave him when you saw his face for the first time came out of your mouth. Joel repeated it gently.

"Your son would have a really fantastic mother." he said "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I really am."

Tears flowed down your cheeks and Joel struggled to put his arm around you so that you could snuggle up to him. You clung to him, and for the first time he felt the warmth of your body, your scent, your tender touch when you hugged him.

You sat like that for a long time. For the first time you talked about everything and nothing, he heard your quiet laughter a few times and noticed how much he liked it. It was all like honey to his heart. The feeling of loneliness he had disappeared when you were next to him.

He saw you the next day on patrol. It was the first sunny morning in a long time.

"Hi." Your quiet voice was the best thing he'd heard in a long time.

"Baby steps, right?" He nudged your shoulder lightly.

You smiled and followed him.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[cry4mina]

Heaven

(Nayeon x Fem!reader)

Word Count: 6.9k

Fluff/Smut

Summary: After being with Nayeon for a while, it's clear that she is your future. You both decide it's time to move in with each other, this fic takes place on move in day!

TW: Fluffy, cute, oral, fingering, a little nipple play, strap ons, teasing, lots of almost moments. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: @dovveri (the precious angel) had asked me to expand on this MONTHS ago and I took my sweet ass time (I stalled bc fluff is not my strong suit.) BUT it here now and I hope you enjoy it!<3

Also! Happy 6 Months to Cry4Mina! I know I say I'm grateful for all of you all the time but hitting 600 followers AND it being my 6 months of writing has really just been amazing.

Thank you all for taking the time to read my works, the support you've given me and all the love! I'm really looking forward to writing a lot of the drafts that I have, and interacting with everyone! I hope you all have such a lovely day/night and get you a little sweet treat! <3

The walls are blank. Every place where art once hung, now patched with tack and smoothed over. Boxes lining the small living room and parts of the kitchen…reliving some of the sacred memories built here when your phone chimes, interrupting the sweet thoughts. You to pull it out of your pocket to check the notification.

Nay: I’m outside baby (9:45am)

Not even bothering to reply, you just pull the door open to see a U-haul truck backed into the parking spot closest to your soon to be old front door and Nayeon no where in sight.

Looking around in confusion, you hear the clattering of the big metal rolling door on the back of the truck.

Eyes meeting the sound as it rattles, ascending upwards and stopping in place. A petite Nayeon lifting it and climbing into the back to push it all the way to the top, revealing the empty truck she rented just for the things you decided to bring along with you.

She leaves you completely breathless, per usual…but today, being the day you were moving in together, your heart throbbed with love and affection for your beautiful girlfriend.

White sneakers with long white socks up to her knees, black shorts that were intentionally too short, a top that had hints of purple and a trucker hat to finish the look off. Appearing as if she just got out of a photoshoot or filming a video or something more extravagant than helping you move.

Your jaw hit the floor as she half jogged up to you, and jumping into your arms and wrapping her legs around you, expecting you to hold her up while her forearms found their place on your shoulders and her hands were interwoven with themselves.

Being sure to catch her, providing some support from under her, she lean back and grabbed your cheeks, kissing them one, two, three times before completely beaming at you from the few inches she had of height on you in this position.

“Hi, baby!,the ” another kiss, this one on the lips, to taper off her sentence while her hands found their way around your neck once more.

“Hi, my love, you look amazing.” absorbing her like flowers take in the sun, feeling her skin on yours was magic.

“Only for you.” watching as her eyes convert to a half lidded seduction, her tone emanated a specific type of want that could only be translated privately, very very privately.

Nayeon reverts the seductive face, unwrapping her legs and stand on her own, keeping her hands connected around your neck and pulling you into an even bigger hug, fingers tapping on your shoulder blades to the song she was humming, before shimmying in your arms.

Both of you start giggling before she finally lets go of you, very obviously excited about this adventure you were going on together. Her hand finds yours, lightly gripping it and swinging it around while she talks.

“Okay, so the movers should be here any minute - we are loading what you’re keeping into this truck” pointing to the one that she pulled up in.

“And anything we are going to donate will go in the movers truck, they will drop it off and then we will go…home, the movers will meet us there and we will get everything organize. Sound like a plan?” the loving look she gives you when she says home made your knees weak, jelly filled joints fighting to hold the weight of the love you held for her every thing she did, but especially when she said something sweet or looked at you a certain way.

“Sounds good, babe.” uttered over the squeaking of the brakes from the truck of movers that just pulled up and her squealing at the sight of them.

The 3 men come over, asking you for detailed instructions on what to keep and what to put in the “donation” truck. Most of the things you were keeping was in boxes but you were keeping your king sized bed, Nayeon was too in love with it to even think about getting a new one.

“But it’s already broken in on my side, I don’t want to do that again. Don’t you like sleeping on a cloud? I can’t believe you’re considering a new one…” argued a few weeks ago when you half way discussed what furniture you wanted to keep.

Both of you decided the living room would be the focus first, you’d want a new couch if anything. Wanting to pick out the decorations together for each room would be a fun bonding experience and that was something you were very much looking forward to.

“Alright, we will get started.” One of the men said, walking into the living room and starting with the couch you weren’t going to keep, taking it to the donation truck while you and Nayeon focused on the boxes.

Slowly removing everything from the apartment until it was completely empty, you couldn’t help but have a little moment of sadness, not that you were upset about this new chapter in your life with Nayeon, but more so the memories of this apartment and what it meant to you.

Nayeon sees you staring at the bare walls and taking the last walk through of the place to make sure everything was taken care of. Waiting for you to have your moment, she doesn’t rush you, simply leaning on the door frame with her arms crossed, silently watching the emotions change across your face.

It’s an emotional transition, even if it’s a good one. This place was where you built your relationship, the foundation of the steady and healthy bond you and her shared. Moving in together was a massive step that you were more than ready to take, but you couldn’t help allow the nostalgia consume you for a moment as a few tears roll down your cheek.

Feeling her eyes on your back, the edges of your mouth turn up knowing the exact look she’s giving you before you even see it.

“I can feel you watching me” giggling through the droplets that threatened to drip down your chin, you try to wipe them before she can see.

“Don’t try to hide it, I know you’re crying!” she walks up behind you, giving you a hug from behind and resting her head on your shoulder blades.

Sniffling while trying to gain your composure again, Nayeon just holds you until your breath smooths out more. Rocking you from side to side in attempts to comfort you.

“Don’t worry, baby” spinning you around carefully so you can face her; she likes to make eye contact when she speaks.

“This is going to be great! And do you want to know the best part?” leaning into you, putting her weight on you to make you hold her back.

“What’s the best part, my love?”

“We get to do it together!” Nayeon practically tackles you to the ground, smooching you all over the face and tickling you in the process.

Rolling around and trying to avoid her hands as you both laugh, you love how playful your relationship with her is. She always knew how to make you smile, in every single way you could imagine.

Once she put a halt to the tickle fest she brought on, she was straddling you on the floor, hands resting on your stomach and your hands were on her thighs. You sit up, placing your hands on her ass and scoot her into you.

Faces so close you can feel her breath on your lips, you can tell she’s riled up from the way you’re looking at her and your hand placement, it was easier to get her worked up - easier than she would like to admit.

Reaching your hands up from your girlfriend’s thighs and trailing them up her chest, watching as her breath hitches when you pass her collarbones.

Gliding your digits up her neck and to her cheeks, you feel her flush - a noticeable wave of heat rushing through her.

Sight going from her lips, up to her eyes, and then back down to her lips again, you bring her mere centimeters from your mouth.

Her breathing speeds up.

Feeling her heart race through your fingertips, the way her eyes were locked in on you, and the way she held you close without an inch of wiggle room…you knew exactly what she was thinking about…and what she wanted.

“Baby” breathed to her, teasing her with your whispers and the distance between your lips.

Nayeon’s is completely enthralled, looking like she wants to beg for you to touch her. Eyes returning to their half lidded state from earlier, she starts rocking her hips on your lap, you stop her immediately.

“Not yet, baby. We still have work to do…and I want pizza for dinner.” kissing her forehead before standing with her still attached to you.

“You’re like a koala, you know that?” chuckling at her for not letting go of you, bringing her outside with you and locking the door.

She whines really loudly, “Fuck you, ugh”

“Whyyyyyyy? What did I do?!” gasped back in fake shock, you knew exactly why she was saying it. She rests her head on your shoulder.

“Because, you did that on purpose!” Pouting at the state she’s in.

“Did what on purpose, honey?” kissing her cheeks while walking her to your car that she was planning on drive to the new place.

Nayeon gets down off you and sticks her hands out for your keys with a fake attitude, you dangle them in front of her. She attempts to snatch them, but you’re too quick and she misses.

“Did what on purpose?” poking her chest lightly just to get a little rise out of her.

She leans into your ear closely, playing with the collar of your shirt before she speaks soft sultry words right into you.

“For making me wet and making me wait to feel you.”

Jaw dropping for a second time tonight, she kisses your check tenderly. Winking at you while she bites her lip. She takes the keys out of your hand and replaces them with the U-Haul keys.

“Last one home buys dinner!” rapidly getting into the car and backing out of the driveway.

Still standing in the same spot, unable to stop yourself from smiling at how goofy she is. Shaking your head while giggling, it’s impossible not to fall deeper in love with her by the day.

Turning around one last time, admiring what was home in the afternoon light before getting into the truck and going to what was your next chapter of life.

—

The drive wasn’t too long, maybe 30 minutes at most. Driving in silence, you’re excited to get settled in your new place. Living in the memory of when you and Nayeon toured the apartment you’d be moving into.

Hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, massive windows that were floor to ceiling, and the lighting fixture in the dinning area that Nayeon fell in love with.

Remembering the way she exclaimed “baby, look at this!” At every turn, around every corner, you both knew this was the place you were going to start the adventure of living together.

The island in the kitchen was what you were particularly excited about, having more room to cook for her when you had a moment. She didn’t know that was the intention, but being able to surprise her with it some night would be great.

Turning the corner to the complex, you already see your car in the assigned spot. Nayeon is leaning on the drivers side door, scrolling through her phone when you back the truck in next to her.

“Ha! Dinner is on you tonight!” Happily skipping over to the drivers side door as you hop out of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah!” waving your hand and rolling your eyes before smirking at her.

“Pepperoni and extra cheese, please!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s go check out the place!” putting your hand out in front of her with puckered lips, waiting for your keys and a kiss, she’s happy to give both.

—

As you reach the elevator, you notice the weight of your keys is different. Looking down while stepping into the metal box what was going to get you to the floor you apartment was on - you notice a light blue key with an N and a heart on it.

Toying with the key in your hand, you look up at her to see she’s distracted and doesn’t know that you’ve noticed the cute little surprise she’s placed on your key ring while she was waiting for you to arrive.

“Baby” called to her softly from a foot away.

Nayeon looks over at you, eyes looking directly into yours and then down at the keys in your hands, showing her the one she placed on your keyring.

She smiles, pulling her keys off her belt loop, flashing you a key with your initial and a heart next to it, in your favorite color.

“I thought it would be a nice cute little surprise for our move in day.” intertwining her pinky with yours.

“Thank you, it’s so cute and thoughtful.”

The elevator dings, sliding the doors open and allowing you and your girlfriend to step into the hallway.

Taking the corridor to the right, Nayeon basically pulling you to the door of your new home. The door was black with shiny brass numbers reflecting back to you.

She slips her key into the door, the heavy lock turns and clicks into place. Nayeon looks over at you and smiles before pushing the door open and squealing in excitement, jumping in place. Gosh, she’s so cute.

Grabbing her hand before she can run inside, you pull her close to you, pressing your body against hers. She’s going to take this as you teasing her, but really you just had something you wanted to do.

“Wait a sec, I think we should be a little traditional about this.”

“Traditional?” Scoffed at you while her hands are wrapped around your waist.

“Yeah, traditional…” placing your hand behind her legs and scooping her up into your arms, bridal style, before she can protest.

Nayeon squeals at being lifted up but her arms instinctively wrap around your neck. When she realizes what you’re doing she starts giggling at the sweetness of the moment.

Unable to take her eyes off you as you take your step over the threshold into your new home. One of her rather large hands descends to your chest, placing it flat under your collar bone.

“Home.” said lightly under your breath but loud enough for her to hear you, panning the emptiness of the apartment you were about to fill with not only your physical things, but the love you had for each other.

Removing her hand off your chest, she uses her fingers to turn your head towards her and kisses you softly.

“Home.” Pointing one of her fingers into your chest, bring her lips back to yours.

Resting your foreheads together, you lower her legs to signal her to stand on her own. She whines in protest, leaning against you as she fights against regaining her balance.

“Are you ready?” Grabbing her hand, looking her in the eyes and smiling.

“Never been more ready, actually.” Kissing the top of your hand, grabbing her phone and checking her messages to see the other team of movers was outside and ready to move the furniture into your new space.

“They’re here!” Gleefully jumping in place again before heading for the door.

“Let’s go!” Following closely behind her and slapping her ass playfully.

Nayeon lets out a soft moan. Whipping around to look at you to see if you’ve heard, covering her mouth with her hand trying to hide her own shock and the flushing in her cheeks.

Eye widen as before you let out a thunderous laugh.

“Don’t worry, baby. We can take care of that later.” Kissing her forehead and leading her down to the elevator by her hand, with her trying to cover the flushed cheeks she now wears in embarrassment.

—

“Hmm…maybe a little more to the left? This doesn’t feel centered to me.” Nayeon is pensive, finger on her cheek as she asks the movers, yet again, to move the bed over so it’s perfectly centered in your new bedroom.

“Babe, it looks fine where it is!” Chiming in from the closet where you were hanging all of the clothes you had smartly packed on hangers so they’d be easier to deal with.

Organizing the closet so the left side was hers and the right side was yours, you could hear her sigh from the other room.

Picturing her exact movements in your minds eye, you knew she was shifting her weight from one leg to another, biting her pointer finger with her other arm crossed over her chest.

“Okay…I hear you…but what if we scooted it over just a little bit to the ri-“ sneaking up behind her and silencing her with a soft bite to the neck causing her to stifle a whine.

“I think it’s perfect where it is, Nayeon.” kissing her cheek before you turn your attention to the movers.

“Thank you so much for your help today!” shaking their hands as they leave the room and walk out the front door.

“Baby, I really don’t know if I like the bed in this position or not.” Nayeon’s hands are on her hips again, trying to figure out if it would look better centered on the other wall.

“Honey…we can rearrange any time we want. No worries, let’s just get the rest of the house together, okay?” you throw the sheets at her for her to make the bed she was scowling at and head back to continue what you’ve been doing in the closet.

Nayeon followed you into the closet, sheets in hand, with a pout that would make anyone drop what they’re doing to please her.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Pausing the organizing of your clothes as you spoke to her.

“I’m hungry and the bed is crooked.” she sighs and give a playful little stomp, throwing the cutest tantrum you’ve ever seen.

“I’ll order the pizza now then, okay?” pulling your phone out to send through the order you already prepared for the two of you.

“But what about the bed?”

“We can fix it later, okay? Just put the sheets on it and we will worry about it after dinner.”

Nayeon rolls her eyes and heads out of the closet to complete the task at hand.

After about 5 minutes goes by, a frustrated grumble echoes through the room, followed by shouting and sighing.

“Ugh! This bed is crooked! It’s not freaking centered!” Nayeon huffs as she finishes putting the sheets on, trying to scoot the heavy bed and frame over an inch or two to make it “centered”.

She’s so dramatic.

You adore this part of her.

“Let me see.” Finishing up the last of the closet and stepping out to see what she how “crooked” it was.

The bed was straight against the wall…there’s no way it could’ve actually been crooked. Giving her a side eyed glare, you lightly push her shoulder.

“It’s perfectly straight, what do you mean?” Chuckling at her while you put your hands up in confusion.

“No, it’s not! Look!”

Nayeon squats down in front of the bed, point and explaining how it’s not lined up with the floor boards and all you can do is admire how passionately she’s making her case about something so silly.

Just smiling, you walk up to her as she continues on her rant about the bed.

“So you see, that’s why it’s not straight because this is…not…” tilting her head up, eyes lacing every part of you as you step up to her and place a finger under her chin.

“I think it looks good, don’t you?” leading her to stand, her eyes still not leaving you.

Nayeon stutters through her mentions of now suddenly agreeing with you.

“O-oh, uhm…y-yes, I don’t t-think we should move it at all.”

She’s so cute.

Hooking a finger into on of her belt loop, tugging it so she somewhat falls into you. Using that to your advantage, swiftly turning and falling yourself. Landing flat with your back on the bed with her strategically on top of you.

Her surprised face hovering over yours, she hoists her leg over your torso, straddling your hips instinctively and putting you right back where you were only a few hours ago at your old apartment.

“Oops, wow! I can’t believe you would trip like that. So clumsy of you! Even if I do love meeting you like this…” tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“And what if I meet you like this” leaning in and brushing her lips against yours, the warmth between her legs gives a flash of familiarity, and her sultry tone brings a rush of endorphins, melting your heart and ruining any sense of composure you had.

“I can feel your heart beating…do I still make you nervous?” whispered against your lips before connecting them completely.

Soft and slow turns into passionate and needy very quickly.

The steamy make out session escalated into you tugging Nayeon’s shirt off, trying to minimize the time your lips spent apart.

Nayeon’s tongue tracing your lips before she stood up and started undoing on your belt, the clattering of her impatience matching the buckle as it hit the floor.

Hastily unbuttoning your pants, tugging them down without hesitation. She needed you, rapid movements serve as proof of her hunger, the way she doesn’t care how aggressively she’s ripping the black denim off your thighs.

Haphazardly tossing each piece of clothing as she rips it off you, first your belt, then your pants, and your shirt following very closely behind, your hands helping discard the unwanted fabric.

“Finally…I get to have you how I’ve been wanting you allll da-“

The doorbell cuts her sentence off.

“You’re kidding…” Nayeon’s body tenses, sighing as she runs a finger down your stomach as she rolls her eyes in disdain at who ever just pushed the button that caused the chime that stopped her from taking you the way she had been imagining.

“That would be dinner.” Giggling at her frustration, only adding to it.

Nayeon just rolls her eyes and stands up, grabbing her shirt and throwing it on while mumbling to herself and mindlessly flicking off the front door before opening it.

You opt to just slip on a pair of black sweat pants and walk around in your sports bra, leaving your bedroom and hearing her say thank you to the pizza delivery boy before latching the door shut and locking it.

Grabbing some paper plates from the kitchen, bringing them to the empty living room and sitting on the floor next to Nayeon, and turning the TV on to put on a random YouTube video while you guys eat.

Taking a few bites and then looking over at her, you see she’s scrolling through her phone with an annoyed look on her face.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“What do you think about this?” Flipping her phone around to show a coffee table with a glass top made of light wood and gold accents.

“Oh that’s cute!” Leaning into her and scrolling to see if it had any matching sets.

“So I was thinking” she starts, “what if we did like a sage green with gold accents and with like light wood and a lot of plants for the living room.” taking a bite of her slice of pizza and doing a little happy dance now that she’s finally eating.

“I love that idea but let’s do a little contrast.” Clicking on the black version of the gold laced table and showing her.

“Wait…you might be on to something here.” Scrolling down and seeing the matching furniture that goes along with the table.

“I did save a couch I saw, let me find it.” quickly pulling up the lighter green couch she had in mind and showing it to you.

“Oh, babe, that’s perfect!” Leaning over and kissing her cheeks before taking another bite of your pizza.

“I think it would match so well with the gold accents and…” she rattles on about

Spending the entirety of dinner talking about placement and furniture, you find yourselves tired from a long day of planning, organizing and moving things around.

Taking it upon yourself to pack up the left-overs from dinner in the kitchen, you can’t help but wonder where your girlfriend has gone off too.

“Nayeonieeeeeeeee!” called out when you hear her cackle from the master bedroom.

“I’m in here, baby!” echoed off the walls to the empty living room.

“You better not moving that bed again!” Sliding the pizza box into the fridge, laughing to yourself about the joke you just made.

“I’m NOT! Ugh!” you walk into your new shared bedroom to see Nayeon on FaceTime with Momo, talking about the moving process and how smoothly it went with the company she recommended.

Catching her attention was fairly easy as you were still very shirtless and the sweatpants you wore to cover up were a little big on you, falling off almost so the waistband of your underwear was sticking out for her to see.

“Momo when you come over tomorrow, we will give you a tour! Besides we still have some…things to…” she’s staring right at you, eye shifting from your exposed waistband up to your bare torso.

An idea pops into your head, an idea that would bring her to her knees and back to where you were an hour or two ago.

Making eye contact with her while she zones out, you tug on the string that is keeping your sweatpants anchored on your hips, letting them drop to the floor before you step out of them. Her jaw drops at how suddenly exposed you are with only your panties and your bra covering you…for now.

Slipping your fingers under the hem of what was covering your chest, you slowly pull it off over your head, leaving you in just your underwear. Twirling the bra by it’s strap around your finger, you fling it at her, it lands on her legs.

Nayeon’s eyes bugged out of her head, like a cartoon character, as she sat up - readjusting her position out of what seemed to be a little bit of gay panic mixed with anticipation.

“….hey, uhm…let me call you back.” Nayeon quickly hangs up the phone as Momo’s protest began through the speaker.

“Wait! Nayeon we have to talk abou-” click.

You have her right where you want her.

She stands, hastily making her way over to you. Hands reaching out to make contact, she’s pulling you in close, laying her hands on your hips and tracing small circles that travel to your lower back and to the waistband she was just staring at.

“You have all my attention, honey.” kissing your cheeks, trailing feather-light kisses down your jaw line and onto the side of your neck before bringing her lips back to yours.

Within minutes of this sweet dangerous kiss beginning, you’d devolve into a melted version of your former self with only her name stuck in your throat and the flavor of her lips at the tip of your tongue as it familiarizes itself with hers again, noting every predicted movement and sway of her as she holds you in front of her.

Arms raising up and resting on her shoulders, your fingers weave with her hair, pulling her into your further and pressing your chest against her same purple shirt from earlier.

“Take this off.” parting from her for only a moment to give her the command to remove the article of clothing that was in your way before returning your mouth to hers.

Maintaining eye contact, she rips her shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere else and continuing on the entanglement you were creating with her, unsnapping her bra and letting it chase her shirt to else where.

Now shirtless with you, chests pressing up against each other, she takes charge. Leading you to the “crooked” bed and pushing you down onto the sheets, playfully.

“Finally,” she breathes, unbuttoning her shorts and letting them fall to the floor and kicking them out of the way.

“I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you this morning. And when you carried me over the threshold?” clenching her entire body at the memory, a familiar shutter cascades through her body.

“I never wanted you more than in that moment…except for maybe right now.”

Watching as she relaxes again, her hands on either side of you, and she’s making half lidded eye contact with you when she brings a hand down your stomach, ghosting it over your underwear and reminding your body of what it was feeling earlier.

Leaning down to kiss you again, she’s intensifying her touch on you. Rubbing your clit through the now damp fabric of your underwear and letting you moan and whine into her mouth. The touch is fueling every fire you’ve felt in the last 12 hours.

“Fuck…Nayeon” whined into her mouth as she pulls your panties to the side, drenching her finger in your slick, coasting it up and down your slit while you match her movements with your hips.

She spends a moment kissing and toying with your chest, flicking your nipples with her tongue, lightly grazing her teeth over them. She slithers back up to your face and kisses you again.

“Finally touching you after a long day of wanting to feel you like this…” bringing her hand up to lick your essence off her long digits.

“To taste you like this…” bringing her lips down to yours, kissing you deeply and letting your own taste linger on your tongue.

Usually being the one that maintains composure, you were finding it difficult to keep the pace steady, after all the “almost” moments earlier today, you were having thoughts of just flipping her over and doing all the work.

Intense bodily reactions that are out of your control fling you into desperation, body begging for more of her touch, and gripping her harder to make sure she knows what you want, though it was obvious, your body language gave you away.

The rocking of your hips, the repressed moans, the less than pure lust that burned you from the inside were shinning through every single motion you made.

Nayeon noticed.

Her teeth graze your ear before she descended down your body with small bites, intentional swipes of her tongue and soft sweet pecks in between.

It wasn’t long before your ass was hanging off the edge of the bed and she was on her knees between your legs.

Without even looking at her, you can feel the smirk she has as she tugs on the elastic that was holding what was in her way up, and removes it - almost ripping it in the process.

“Damn, baby. You look so fucking good like this.” running her thumb up and over your clit a few times, teasing your entrance with every few passes.

Brain glitching under her touch, the cravings were too strong and you were too addicted to contain yourself any longer. Thrusting your hips down on her next tease of your entrance, her thumb slips inside you causing a guttural moan to leave your throat.

“Someone is eager.” giggled at you before removing her thumb, licking your slick off of it.

Whining in protest, you are about to beg for her when you feel it. The warmth of her tongue, starting at the bottom of your entrance and snaking its way up your folds and over your clit before latching onto it.

“Nayeon, ple- ooooh fuck!” hissed out in pleasure, hands flying up to the back of her head, wrapping her hair up in your hands and holding it into a makeshift ponytail as her tongue made work of you.

A delicate dance that she was more than good at, teasing and flicking at your sensitive bud before finally starting the pattern that she knew was what was going to keep you right where she needed you.

Sucking and smacking while she whirled her tongue in tightknit circles around your clit, completely focused on the way your back was arching, body twitching underneath her, and the sounds you were making for her.

Moaning her name, the breathy “oh fucks”, and the unprovoked “please please please” always made a mess of her underwear. She loved to hear you in this way, loved to have you in such a vulnerably delicious position to which she could bring you every ounce of pleasure you could ever want.

The build up ensues, the tightly woven tension in your core was stacking like tetris on the want that had been taunting you all day. Deep, primal yearning for your partner was all consuming and it was apparent that the feeling was mutual.

That’s when you feel it, her long pointer finger teasing your entrance, waiting for you to do exactly what Nayeon knew you would. Thrusting your hips down onto her finger and grinding onto it, doing the work for her while she quickened the pace of her circular movements on your clit.

The vibration of her chuckling with her mouth still attached to you was excruciating. Giggling at your neediness only made the desperation worse, vibrating and stimulating the very sensitive bud causing the pot to boil over, burning the coil that threatened to snap at any moment.

“Baby…oh fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum” pulling her head closer to you and grinding harder down on her finger.

Nayeon smiles, curling her finger up one, two, three times and then rips herself away from you.

Completely dismantling everything she just built, ruining the orgasm and sending you into a spiral of desperation and anger.

“Fuck, WHY would you do THAT?!” panting out furiously as you sit up on your elbows so you can glare at the cheeky smile she’s got plastered on her face.

Rolling your eyes and slamming yourself back down on the mattress, you hear the sound of leather sliding across the wooden nightstand. Nayeon stands, stepping into the harness of the all too familiar strap-on that was very present on nights like this.

The actual strap was different than your usual one, noting that the rings were more angular, the color of the leather was slightly darker, and you couldn’t help but notice the new attachment that was fixed to the strap that would go between Nayeon’s legs.

Slipping it inside herself with ease, a whimper leaving her lips while she buckled herself in and prepared for what was to come.

Feeling yourself drip in anticipation, the pooling of slick underneath you was rapidly growing out of control as Nayeon tugged your hips closer to the edge of the bed.

You could feel the tip of the familiar toy pressing against your folds as she leaned down and softly bit your chest. Shivers of anticipation radiated through your bones as you patiently waited for her to make the initial thrust that would turn into you becoming undone underneath her.

Breathing picking up for both of you, the tension so thick between you that every touch from her felt like jolts of static electricity that had the power of lightening.

“Baby…” unable to wait anymore, you had thought about her this way all day, on top of you with that half lidded smirk.

“Please.” Cupping her face, bringing her closer to you while lifting your legs up and wrapping them around her hips.

Taking the hint, she eases her hips forward, sinking her strap into you painstakingly slow, inch by inch until she was completely bottomed out inside you.

Moaning into her mouth as you continue to passionately make out, she takes it slow with you. Sensually rocking her hips gently and letting her hands wander your body while your tongues explored each others mouths.

Hardly any words shared at all, the moment too intense, and all too intimate to even think of exchanging witty banter. Hushed moans and whines filling the minimal space between the you and her, mixed in with the pure pleasure and the eager pants from Nayeon.

Bliss drapes your body with each thrust Nayeon made, you gave a small gasp at each stroke she laid into you. Paired with her own sounds of pleasure, you were consumed by her.

“I’m gonna cum…fuck” whispered to her with intense eye contact that has her breath hitching. Her thrusts speed up, a steady crescendo building up higher and higher in both of you until finally hit the point of pure ecstasy.

Your vision blurs as your body trembles, moans escaping your throat in rapid succession. Drenched in ecstasy, you twitch and buck your hips, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm.

Nayeon glistens with a thin sheen of sweat as she maintains her rhythm. Despite your body clenching around the strap, making it challenging for her to continue, she perseveres undeterred, chasing her own pleasure while overstimulating you.

A stream of passionate words accompanies the matching sounds as you both murmur intensely to each other. Nayeon grasps your hands, pinning them above your head, her hips snapping faster and faster.

Watching her closely through your post orgasm haze, you observe her brows furrowing—a sign she's nearing her peak.

As her rhythm falters, you seize the moment. Using your legs, you swiftly roll her over, positioning yourself on top of her.

Grinding down on the strap, now building another orgasm as it rubs against all the right spots, you can feel her body tensing under you.

“Cum for me, baby. I know how much you wanting this all day.” Sultry tone sensually whispered to her as you begin to slam yourself down on her, letting the attachment do the work.

Her eyes roll back, body tensed, back arched as she releases- a mess created on the sheets. Her whimpers loud, hands grasping at you, trying to tug you closer to her and successfully doing so.

Her nails dig into your hips as she guides you up and down on her, mouths connecting, your hand crawling up to weave into her hair.

“Oh fuck…feels so fucking good” breathed against her lips, her hands snake under your thighs, stopping you from riding her.

Thrusting up into you, holding you up while you drape your body over hers, allowing yourself to untether and get lost in the moment.

“Give me one more, honey. I know you want to.” Followed by a few bites to your neck.

The want in her words were enough to send you over the edge once more. She wraps her arms around you, holding you into place while continuing to trust up into you, creating a plethora of sounds that would put any adult film to shame.

Slowly coming down, you bury your face in her neck and smile into her.

“Ugh that was so worth the wait.” huffed into her skin as she draws little pictures with her nails on your back, writing words like “I love you” and your name and her name with hearts.

“Are you writing poetry on my back?” quizzically asked with a hint of sleepiness as you sit up on her.

“I don’t need to write poetry on what already is poetry, my love.” sitting up to deeply kiss you and hug you, all while the strap is still inside you.

Standing up to go and grab another set of sheets, Nayeon takes a moment to clean the strap in the bathroom, dry it off, and put it back in the drawer.

Returning to the bed, you pull the sheets off, walking through your house to place them in the washer and flick it on before you return to the room.

Nayeon and you make the bed together, changing the pillow cases so they match the new sheets you just placed on them.

“Do you want to take a quick shower with me?” after finally placing the comforter on the bed.

Nayeon walks over to you, putting her arms around your waist and kissing you again.

“Absolutely” leading you to the bathroom so you can wash up together.

Turning to her after she turns the shower on, you smirk at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she scoffs, pulling out some towels from the linen closet for you both to use.

“I just love you…also, I think the bed IS crooked…at least it is now…” giggling at her.

Nayeon just glares at you, you can almost see her eye twitch with rage when she finally exclaims:

“SEE, I TOLD YOU IT WAS CROOKED!”

[yuyu1024]

Lettuce

Pairings: Mingyu × y/n

Genre/tags: non idol, dating

Warning: 🔞 fluff but still smut, pet names (babes, baby, love, honey, sweetheart etc.), cursing, unportected/protected sex (always be safe), kinks (size, breeding, tits, etc), mention of small age gap, mention of low self-esteem/confidence and insecurities

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 2.6k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: been away. I didnt know if I should post this or delete but then... I dont want effort to go to waste so.. 😅 i hope this is an okay one.

Have a nice day.

-----------------------------------------------------

"Are you still waiting for your ride home?"

You look at the group of girls standing a few feet away from you. They are from the department across your office.

"Is your boyfriend late?" She adds a follow up question

You smile, "I am." You cautiously answer.

They are not your friends so you are not comfortable to share more than that. And also they are known to be the gossipers in the officr so, any details about your personal life would be the next topic for the next few weeks if you share anything with them.

"It's already late... are you sure he's still coming?" One girl asks.

Luckily, the bus arrives just in time for them to hurry in. No time for you to even chat with them anymore.

"Thank goodness..." you sigh feeling relieved.

*pings*

🐶: sorry, im late. 😭

🐶: i helped an old lady cross the street.

🐶: didn't know she would ask me to also help her get boxes of soju in her shop.

🐶: she admitted to pretending to struggle crossing the street so she can ask anyone to help her and his son 🙃 and then made me buy a whole bunch of lettuce.

🐶: like a whoke bunch😶

🐶: you like lettuce right babe?😚

You smile as you read your boyfriend's text. You don't know if its you imagining him pouting because he feels sorry he made you wait or its because he felt used and scammed.

💖: you're so silly.

💖: its still a good deed so its okay 😊

🐶: but i am 10mins late.

🐶: i cant let my princess wait for me.

💖: i can wait. As long as its you... ♥️

You see him read the message and then not reply.

"Hello stranger..."

You got startled when Mingyu embraces you from behind and kissed you on the cheek.

"Yah! You scared me." You slap his arm

"Sorry..." he giggles and kissed you again. This time on the lips.

"Stop..." you say, blushing. "We are outside."

"So...?" He grins and then puts his arm around you. "We are a couple. Who the fuck cares?"

You roll your eyes. "You know people judge..."

"No... they are just jealous because I am dating a wonderful woman..."

You shake your head. "No... they are not jealous because of me..." you push him away. Forcing a laugh. "Probably because you look good in that double denim look."

Here you go again with your self pity and self judging. You always do this. 'This' notion that you are way below over any other girl and that you are just lucky Mingyu is your boyfriend. You always make an effort to put yourself down without even noticing that Mingyu does not like it.

He fucking loves you. Inside and out. From head to toe. From front to back. He even loves it when you are not at your best behavior nor position. He just... loves you. Period.

But on your end, even with a million reassurance, you always doubt yourself for him.

***

Arriving at his apartment, the first thing you did was announce that you are going to take a shower. You didn't even looked at him when you said it. You're not mad at him or whatever. You are just guilty and feel sorry for being down out of the blue. You didn't even talked that much during the ride home.

"Hey..." he takes you by your arm and pulls you close for an embrace. He kissed the top of your head and then forehead. "Take your time... I'm going to cook dinner."

You smile with no teeth showing. "Okay..." your voice sounding almost a whisper.

"Anything in particular you want? We have meat, fish and vegetables... like a lot of lettuce..." referring to the whole plastic the old lady sell him. "You want something with soup or fried? Ramyun or pasta?"

"Hmm... I like pasta... and a salad on a side?"

"Okay... as you wish my princess..."

The whole apartment smells like a five star restaurant. The fragrance is to die for and makes your mouth water. When you got out of the bedroom, hair still damp, you got suprised by how extravagant Mingyu arranged the dining area. Fancy plates, lit candles, wine glasses and a bottle of his favorite red win. All of a sudden, iy felt like you entered an Italian restaurant wearing your baby pink pajamas and hello kitty slippers.

"Hi, babe." Mingyu is a ray of sunshine while putting on a few more finishing touches on the table. "Ready to eat?"

"Aww..." your heart is aching with pure joy. He is the sweetest man alive.

You stumble your way to him, caused by your own feet. He managed to catch you giggling with you. You look silly but he find it cute. And then as your eyes met he immediately captures your lips for a kiss. Small pecks that got deeper and more seductive. The kisses are loud that it echoes and bounce off the walls of the apartment. He can't also stop touching every curve of your body. From your hips, to your ass and to your tits. He even lifted your shirt so he can access your bra and yank one side down exposing you boob.

"M-mingyu...." you giggle as you try to pull away from the kiss. He does not want to let you go. He keeps on chasing your pink lips whenever a gap starts to build in betweem his. "We need to eat... the food will get cold..."

He didn't answer. He leans lower so he could give love on your exposed bud. He suck it first before he lets his tongue lick it and make your squirm.

"M-mingyu..." you inhale. "The food...?"

He finally lets you go, smiling. "Fine." He chased one more kiss. "But after we eat..." and another one. "I'd like to go straight to dessert." And another one. "You know I love my dessert." He says, bitting his lower lip while grinning like a mad dog.

"You're crazy!" You pinch his nose.

"Crazy over you..." he growls and suddenly picks you up off the floor. He puts your legs around his waist and you automatically hang your arms over his shoulder to hold on.

"Yah!"

"I can't wait. I think I want to begin our dinner with dessert first." His eyes is filled with desire and he is ready to wreck you.

Kicking the door open to your bedroom, Mingyu lays you down gently but in a hurry at the same time. He is on a mission. He is not going to make love to you. He will FUCK your brains out tonight. You know that look in his eyes.

"No condoms... I need to feel you... skin to skin..." he pulls his shirt off and throws it, hitting the wall, then begins to unbuckle his belt and pants. "And I'll like to fill you up until it leaks out of your pussy." He adds, grinning

"Oh God..." you try to get a hold of yourself. Not ready for what is coming

He pushes down his pants and underwear in one go. His length springs free and is up, steady and hard. It's tip glistening with pre cum.

"Turn around..."

You do as he says and go on fours on top of the bed. He pulls your pants down, revealing a bare and wet pussy ready to be torn.

"No panties huh..."

You blush. "Well... I know we'll have sex today... I just didn't know its going to be this soon..."

Mingyu hovers on your back, hand sliding up and down your curves. "Do you want me to stop and just go on with dinner?"

You lower your heard, embarassed, even though he's not seeing how turned on and red you are. "No... I would never say no to you..." after a few breaths in you look back, cheeks red and warm. "You know sex with you is my only addiction."

"Fuck yeah it is..." he says proudly and satisfied

He eases himself in, slowly but deliciously. He skipped prepping you. He can't wait anymore. His dick is aching and wanting to feel your walls.

"I'll be a little rough to you today, babe." He smacks your ass and a moan escapes your lips. "I didn't like what you did earlier..."

"Ughhh!" He slams strong and consistent. It's driving you insane how he could hit the very back of your cervix. Actually he could hit every thing inside you. Thats how long and thick he is. "W-hat... what did... I do?" You arch your back and pushed your upper body up so he can embrace you and touch your body as he thrust your brains out.

"You know..." he grunts as he adjusts and tries to go deeper, even though he is already at the deep end of your insides. "I don't like it... when you don't appreciate yourself..." he inhales and exhales as he feels you clench and make it tighter. "Fuck! Babe!" He kisses the curves of your neck and bites on your shoulder when he feels the tightness thats make it fucking sensational for him

You ubotton your top to give him access to your chest. You didn't unhook your bra though. You just pulled the ladies out and the bra helps give them a push up.

"You are beautiful... sexy... and a wonderful woman..." he pushes your hair out of his way so he can kiss your neck. "Love yourself... the way I love you."

He then pulls out, almost making you cry and beg. But them makes you turn around to face him.

"Can you?" He asks with the most loving eyes

You crash your lips to his. Pushing your tongue in him. You didn't stop until you hear a moany cry from your boyfriend. His brows then creases when you playfully bite his lower lip. "I want to..."

"But what?" He carries you off the bed and pins you to the wall, beside the window of your bedroom. Your one leg touching the ground while the other is hooked over his forearm. "Answer me, babe."

He slams back in you. Stronger and much deeper. Which confused you coz how? Its not like your cervix can expand. But thats what it felt when he slammed you. It didn't hurt. It felt insane actually. Insanely goodm

"You are kind... sweet... caring... hardworking... knows what you like and dislike... respectful..."

You are catching your breathe in your throat. Its like you are choking from excess pleasure. You try to speak but you can't let go of the high. So instead of speaking, you just shook your head.

"You don't agree?" He asks. Mingyu looks at you with his puppy eyes and showered you with kisses. Then he kept repeating all the good qualities you have as a person and even physically.

He really is telling you every bits about you. Everything that he loves and dislike but accepts coz it is you. It is part of you. He really do love you.

"What can I do... to reassure you?"

You put your hand over his mouth. Not to shut him down but to hush him for a second. Just for a moment until you get it all out for him.

"Fuck me!" You cry as you can't help but  cry more of his name. You are so close to your orgasm. "Nggghhhh...!"

You shut your eyes ready to explode but then Mingyu pulls away from your hand, takes you back in bed to finish, when he suddenly says the two words you didn't expect him to say while he's fucking your brains out

"Marry me..." he says.

Your eyes opens, looks at him in pure shock and bliss. "W-wha..." you can't finish your words. He was hammering you. You can't answer. "Mingyu!" You moan his name so loud when your world spun around.

"I love you." He grunts as he see you melt and when he pushed into you a few more times, he finally begins release himself you. All the warmth and every drop of him in you. "Fuck!" He exhales, dropping his body on you but not his weight. "I love you..." he says again. "So much..." he kisses your shoulder and then your cheek. "So... what do you say?" He smirks

"Suddenly?" You look at him, confused.

"Hmmm..." he scrunches his nose, still wearing the smile on his lips. "Not really..."

He then gets up, pulling out of you, which felt like you got more naked than what you are now. More exposed.

"Wait lemma clean you first."

He runs into the bathroom and takes a towel to wipe you clean. Just clean enough to be presentable but not totally wipe his seeds off you. He wants that in there.

And then he runs out of the room.

"Where are you going? Babe?" You are confused. Why is your man running outside the bedroom ass naked

Giggling as you see him comeback in and carrying the plastic bag of lettuce.

"Huh? What's that for?" You sit up and wrap the thin white blanket to your body.

"I lied. Well... we still going to have salads and all..." he is mumbling. "This should be over dinner... but... I could not help myself earlier so..."

"Mingyu... what is going on...?"

Laughing but still trying to pull a serious face. "It was true that an old lady sold me this but... as I was helping her she took the paper bag the came wit this... and I panicked." He sits down beside you. "I didn't want to put it in my jacket or pocket coz... it will be obvious... and when we walk and your cold you always put your hand in my jacket's pockst so..."

"Mingyu!" You grab his face and kissed him. To make him focus. "Just say it..." you are giggling now too.

"Okay..." a soft smile spreads to his lips. "I know... you may think... I'm still young and naive."

"No you're not..."

"Yeah but... still... anyways..." he nervously laughs. "Like I said... you are an amazing woman. Anyman who you choose to love will be the luckiest. And thankfully its me..." he then goes down to his one knee and pulls out a black box from the plastic of lettuce. "I said I didn't like what you did earlier... you looking down at yourself... but that does mean I hate you or mad at you for it... I just say that because I care.. I want you to feel... assured and happy." He opens the box and shows the most brightest ring you ever saw in your life. "If I have to always reassure you for the rest of our lives... I don't fucking care. I am up for it. I love you and I can't live a day without you." Pulling out the ring and taking your hand. "Please marry me... I will serve you and love you forever..."

You watch him put the ring on your finger.

"So...?" He looks at you with doe eyes

Letting go of the blanket covering your body, you launch yourself to him, making you guys fall on the floor. "I love you Kim Mingyu..." you say first before kissing him. "Forever is not a bad idea..." you kiss him again. "Of course I will accept."

"Sorry if I proposed to you after sex... at diner would've been fantastic"

"Don't say sorry... I do love your way..." you get up from embracing him. "It brings back to how we started."

He sits back up. "Right."

Then you stare at your ring. "Who could've guessed that... I will be marrying the guy I met and fucked at a friend's birthday?"

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 10

Kara sets her phone on do not disturb the instant the first unrecognized number flashes across the screen. Keeping hold of Lena's hand, she sits them both on the edge of the bed as she dials the only other person she wants to talk to.

"Kara!" Alex exclaims. Her voice then dims as she turns to call the others. "It's Kara!"

"Hey," Kara says, keeping her voice steady. "You're on speaker. I've got Lena with me."

Lena leans closer to the phone, resting against Kara's side in the process.

"Hi."

"Hi, Lena." As Kara expects, it takes more than a global superstar to faze her sister. "Are you two okay?"

Kara nods. "Yeah. We're okay."

"We're more concerned about you guys." Lena glances at Kara. "I'm worried your family might be pulled into this."

It will only be a matter of time before internet sleuths find Kara's old social media, and for her identity to be shared with the entire world. But where Kara had consented to her relationship with Lena, her sister's family hadn't agreed to be drawn into it along with her.

"We'll be okay," Kelly chimes in.

Lena shakes her head. "Let us send a car. We can get you to a hotel until we see how far they'll dig."

"Oh, I don't think that's necessary..."

"But what if it is?" Lena asks softly.

What about Esme, goes unsaid. A long beat of silence passes, and Kara imagines Kelly looking to Alex for guidance, and Alex's own indecision.

"Lena's team has more experience and greater resources to handle this sort of thing," Kara adds. "They can book you guys under fake names, assign security--"

"Security?" Kelly interrupts, her voice laced with fear. "You don't think..."

"We don't know anything at this point," Lena rushes in, doing her best to allay the immediate worry without downplaying the risk. "But I don't think we should assume the best, either."

Alex is the next to speak. To Kara's surprise, her sister doesn't speak to her.

"Lena."

Kara glances at the woman beside her. Lena's features are as somber as Alex's voice sounds, but her brow is creased with thought.

"How bad can this get?"

Lena takes a deep breath.

"I can't say for sure."

While it's not a firm answer, Kara knows Lena isn't sugarcoating anything-- it's just too soon and too volatile to anticipate an outcome with any kind of certainty.

"You've had high profile relationships before," Alex counters.

"Yes," Lena concedes. She takes a breath, shoulders sagging as though in defeat. "But this is different."

Alex makes the connection before Kara does.

"Because you're women."

A jolt travels down Kara's spine. She shoots a glance towards Lena, who looks at her helplessly.

"Yes," Lena confirms. "I've been in relationships with women before, but not publicly."

"Do you intend to hide this one too?"

Lena glances at Kara, cheeks flushing with guilt.

"That decision hasn't been made." That the option is even on the table sends a frission of displeasure through Kara, but Lena's tone-- while conciliatory-- is pragmatic. "But even the implication could make a lot of waves. And if people get angry, and they can't get to us..."

"They'll go after us," Alex finishes for her.

Lena nods, her features mournful. "It's a possibility. Online, in the media, or even picketing..."

Kara knows Alex's decision before she says it.

"Okay." Then, "just until we know more."

"Of course."

Alex sighs over the line. "Any other recommendations?"

"I would limit screen time; things might get... nasty. And the less you see, the less you might be tempted to join the fray."

Kara's thoughts turn to Esme, and as though reading her mind, Lena continues.

"Alex... Kelly... I know you don't know me. But-- I want to protect you and your family as much as I can in this. I wasn't much younger than Esme when all this started for me, and-- I don't want to make this any harder for her than it has to be."

Kara gives Lena's hand a squeeze, prompting Lena to lean a little more of her weight against her shoulder in return.

"Thank you, Lena," Kelly says, voice soft. "We appreciate your guidance on this."

Kara leans forward intently, bringing the phone a little closer.

"Lena's team will coordinate everything," she offers, "and I'll be in touch with more details as soon as I have them. We'll take each day as it comes, and adjust however we need to."

"Kara can send you my number," Lena agrees. "If any of you need anything, at any time, please call me."

"We will," Kelly promises.

Alex sighs. "We should go tell Esme."

Kara bites her lip. "She's seen?"

"Who do you think showed us?"

Shit. Kara's teeth grind in frustration. "Is she upset?"

"Nah. Not really. I think maybe a little hurt that she found out with the rest of the world, but mostly thrilled?" Alex sighs. "I don't know. Teenagers are hard."

That makes Kara chuckle. She wipes a tired hand over her face. Barely an hour had passed since she woke up, but it feels like a lifetime. "Yeah."

"We'll let you two go. Stay safe."

"You too," Kara returns. "We'll be in touch."

[bamfkeeper]

Sticky.

RQ: 'Another idea I had was more NSFW, that being a passionate sexual experience with him (the reader can be G/N, afab, amab, or whatever you choose), of which ends with him “releasing” his fluids onto the reader’s torso from the reader pleasuring his area (depending on the reader you choose there can also be other fluids), of which Kurt falls upon when he’s finished. Since both of them are now sticky and whatnot, they decide to take a shower after they have recovered for a minute. Their time in the shower would consist of them washing and rubbing each other and doing slow and lazy romantic and sexual touches, though nothing as explicit as before. It’ll be fun to read Kurt washing / rubbing the reader with his hands and tail, while the reader is feeling down his wet fur. If you want to do something less NSFW, you could do them making out outside, of which they get dirty and then need to take a shower (though I admittedly prefer the more NSWF one 😈). Thanks for your consideration!' - @hulkingharbor

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader // Warnings: Smut 18+ | Suggestive scenes, sex aftermath

A/N: I decided to start it at the end of a passionate night, I have a lot of smut requests so I am trying to balance it out. BUT, I didn't just want it to be sfw. So I put in a little tease at the beginning <3 Unedited. WC: 1.9k

"Bitte! I-I'm close," Kurt whined as you stroked him from your laid position, his poor legs could barely hold himself up as the pleasure shot through his body so intensely. "Aah! m-mein Gott....nngh," he gently bucked into your strokes, his face flushed violet as his pants grew heavier and quicker.

"Come for me, baby...I know you want to..." you encouraged in a sultry voice, making Kurt whimper desperately in response. His hips jerked up steadily to meet your hand's movements, his breathing picked up in short, quick huffs as he felt himself throb and grow hot. His poor body didn't know what to do, he held onto the sheets tightly as he thrusted up against your teasing hand. His cock throbbed and twitched as your hand stroked him, you knew he was going to burst any second now.

"I am going to..." Kurt swallowed the thick lump in his throat as he felt himself seize, his eyes widening before rolling back and he let out the most pleasurable sounds imaginable, your name intertwined with them. His bottom lip trembled as his cock twitched in your palm, shooting out sprits of white cum all over his chest and abdomen. Rope after hot rope came from his blushed tip until the strong shots turned into pitiful pearls beading and dripping thickly down his length and onto your fingers.

His chest rose and fell with the aftermath, he let out a soft mewl as you slowly drug your hand up his cock, pulling out any remaining beads of cum hidden away. His body quivered with lingering pleasure as he lay spent on the bed, exhausted yet content. He remained motionless, allowing the afterglow to wash over him. As he gradually regained his composure, you nestled beside him, your presence a comforting warmth against his side.

You began to trail a series of gentle, unhurried kisses across his face, your lips softly caressing his forehead, cheeks, and the tip of his nose. Kurt responded with a low, appreciative hum, almost resembling a purr, his eyes fluttering closed as he surrendered himself to your loving ministrations. The tension in his muscles slowly ebbed away, replaced by a deep sense of relaxation and contentment.

"Ah...liebe..." he whispered, his hand releasing the sheets and holding your forearm instead. You laid with him and slowly ran your fingers through his hair as he recovered from his orgasm, Kurt's breathing slowly returned to normal and he sighed. "Ach...I am klebrig." He noted, feeling the cum seep into his fur and dry slightly.

You chuckled softly at him, taking in his disheveled appearance. It did make him look quite a mess, you had to admit, and if you were being completely honest with yourself, there was something undeniably attractive about his current state. The tousled hair, the flushed indigo skin, the slight sheen of sweat clinging to his velvety fur - all evidence of your shared passion. However, as enticing as he looked, you were both thoroughly spent for the night, having indulged in each other's company to your hearts' content. You were sure you looked just about the same.

"Yeah, you certainly are a sight," you teased gently, your voice warm with affection. "Let's go take a shower and clean up properly. After that, I promise we can snuggle all you want." You encouraged him to get up, offering a hand to help him off the bed. He met your gaze with tired but contented eyes, a lopsided smile slowly spreading across his face as he nodded in agreement.

As he took your hand and slowly rose to his feet, you couldn't help but chuckle at his unbalance. Even in his exhausted state, there was something endearing about the way he moved, even if he was a bit unsteady from your earlier activities. The prospect of warm water cascading over your bodies, washing away the remnants of your lovemaking, followed by cuddling close in clean sheets, seemed absolutely perfect.

You started the shower, carefully adjusting the temperature and letting the water warm up to a comfortable level before gently stepping in with him. You both simply stood there, savoring the sensation of the hot water cascading down your bodies for several minutes. The steam rose around you, enveloping you both in a warm, misty cocoon as you stood close together, relishing in the intimate moment and the soothing warmth against your skin.

After a while, you both decided it was time to begin washing, you didn’t want anyone complaining about no hot water in the morning. Your hands instinctively reached for his body wash, popping the cap and squeezing a generous amount onto your palm, the fresh scent immediately filling the shower. Your hands touched his chest and you began to lather the soap on him, your fingers gliding smoothly over his skin and through his soft fur, appreciating the textures beneath your fingertips.

Kurt exhaled with a contented sigh, his lips curving into a warm smile as you diligently worked the soap into his fur. The gentle massage of your fingers turned the soap into a sea of white, foamy bubbles that clung to his coat. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he watched you, clearly enjoying the attention. "You like this, ja? It seems you can't keep your hands to yourself," he teased, his voice laced with playful smugness as you continued your thorough cleansing.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "Oh, please," you retorted, your tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. "You're the one who's messy. I'm simply fulfilling my duties as your partner by cleaning you up. After all, I am, technically, responsible for getting you into this state in the first place." As you spoke, your hands moved lower, your eyes glued on his face as his smirk faltered a bit.

"So be good and stay still for me, ja?" You whispered, your hands gently gliding down his legs, taking care to clean every inch with meticulous attention. Your touch was soft yet purposeful as you slowly and carefully cleaned between them, ensuring no area was missed. Kurt swallowed hard, his body tense but obedient as he remained motionless for you. His tail sought comfort by wrapping itself around your ankle, an affectionate gesture, but also one to keep the thing from flicking and thrashing behind him.

He couldn't remember the last time he was cleaned, not so tenderly and lovingly anyway. You worked slowly and thoroughly, making sure every crevice was cleaned on him. You stood back up, his soft, golden eyes on you as he watched with a newfound look of innocence and vulnerability. You knew he had grown up a bit...differently, the details weren't set in stone, but by how he stood there and looked at you there was enough to go off of.

"All done, did that feel good baby?" You rinsed your hands under the shower head and reached up to cup his face, thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones in gentle strokes. Kurt leaned into your hands immediately and he sighed contently, blinking slowly before allowing his eyes to fully close and enjoy the moment.

"Ja...es war gut." His gentle voice rang through the shower, hitting your ears over the sound of the running streams of water pouring down your bodies. His tail unwrapped from you and moved higher on your body, he opened his eyes once again, emitting a gentle glow in the dimmer bathroom light. "Your turn."

His hands slowly lathered your own wash, carefully guiding them over your skin with a delicate touch. He washed you with the same tenderness you had shown him earlier, his movements a perfect reflection of the love and care you had. The warmth of his hands and the soothing sensation of the soap nearly put you to sleep standing there.

"You are so perfect, liebe...so utterly perfect," Kurt murmured, his voice low and filled with adoration. His words hung in the steamy air, emphasizing the depth of his feelings for you. As he continued to wash you, Kurt placed soft, feather-light kisses along the back of your neck, each one a testament to his affection. His tail caressed and soothed your hips, the spade gently moving up and down your skin.

After you both finished cleaning up, you stepped out of the shower together, ready to dry off. As you held up a large towel, preparing to wrap it around Kurt, you noticed his body tense slightly. His eyes widened, and he shook his head emphatically. "No, NEIN, don't you dare-" you began, your voice a mix of amusement and mock horror.

Kurt suddenly transformed into a furry whirlwind, shaking his entire body vigorously, like a dog fresh from a bath. Water droplets flew in every direction, creating a miniature rainstorm in the bathroom from his shaking. You let out a surprised yelp, frantically trying to use the towel as an impromptu shield against the unexpected deluge. "Kurt!!" you shouted, your voice a blend of shock and laughter as you attempted to dodge the spray of water.

After a few seconds, Kurt's impromptu performance came to an end. The damn showman he was. He stood there, looking quite pleased with himself, his fur now a chaotic mess of spikes and tufts where it was longer. Some areas stuck up at odd angles, giving him a comically disheveled appearance. A mischievous grin spread across his face, showcasing his pride in the playful havoc he had just wreaked.

You couldn't help but shake your head in amused exasperation, a fond smile playing on your lips as you gently ruffled his hair with the towel. His fur still damp and slightly disheveled, eyes blinking owlishly as he shook his head in response to your ministrations to let his curly hair fall naturally after the ruffling you gave him. A quiet chuckle escaped you as he did so, his expression and mannerisms never ceased to make you smile.

"You're not dry yet, you know," you murmured, your voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and care. You continued your task, methodically running the towel over his body. Your hands moved with a tender efficiency, carefully working to absorb the remaining moisture from his fur. You were honestly surprised he stood still for you, considering the way his tail knowingly flicked behind him.

As you felt his fur gradually becoming less damp under your touch, a sense of satisfaction washed over you. Finally, when his coat felt mostly dry beneath your fingertips, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. A fond grin spread across your face as you took in his slightly rumpled appearance, affection bubbling up in your chest. "There," you said softly, your eyes twinkling with mirth, "All dry now, you adorable dork."

He pouted lightly, his lower lip protruding slightly as he mumbled, "I'm not a dork. That's an unfair accusation."

"You are, actually, a huge dork," you teased him back, a playful grin spreading across your face as you observed his adorable pout. Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you continued, "But don't worry, it's one of the many things I find endearing about you. Now come on, I believe I promised you some quality cuddling time, and I intend to make good on that promise."

His eyes gleamed with excitement and he eagerly followed you out of the room, his pout now a happy smile. He trailed behind you towards the bedroom, ready to indulge in the promised cuddles.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Images: Uncanny Spider-Man (2023), Pinterest

[unhinged-waterlilly]

Hello!

Something about @/demigod-jack-hearth

Something I wanna say about this post (with my reblog on it). I wanna give a side of a story. Mine to be exact.

They were one of the first people I talked to outside of rp. They were a close friend. But that fades.

I DONT WANT THEM TAGGED IN THIS I DONT WANT THEM TO KNOW ABOUT THIS. I HAVE THEM BLOCKED. IF THEY LEARN ABOUT THIS, IT IS BECAUSE SOMEONE SEND THIS TO THEM.

Tw: sa, strong language, I'm a little bitch, please please please read at your own risk

When start this by saying Jack worries me. I've seen so many post, rp or otherwise, where they bring up extremely triggering comments...just randomly. This has happened to me too. I don't get bothered by them I've been lucky enough to not deal with most and be comfortable with what I have dealt with. I think he needs professional help. Or to talk to someone that is an adult. This is difficult for some people. But there are free therapy websites out there. I have seen them. I have participated in them. The people on the other line aren't professionals but they are people willing to listen. And adults.

It started with when I saw an rp they had with camp Sky. I can't give screenshots of that but I do have some of confronting them.

Now all good right? Yeah! I thought so too. Untill an anon confronts em.

Posts here and here

Oh...kay? What's wrong about this?

Yeah...

Actively calling out anon

Now mind me I thought they had buried this au deep deep into the ground. Wasn't until I opened Circe's blog that I realised they didn't. I was pissed. I had every reason to be. We have so few stories of male victims as it is and this 'au' was blatantly disrespectful to victims of all genders. I felt really fucking disrespected that's for sure.

Unfortunately I don't confront them. But I do vent.

Now I feel bad for this. Maybe this was dirty laundry I shouldn't have aired out. But I was just so angry I couldn't think properly. I didn't mention Jack in this post, but friends figured it out. I won't say who these friends are for obvious reasons. Also, this is a bit wrong. They thought Odysseus cheated with only Circe, and Calyspo was SA. I got that wrong, and I admit it. I only remembered that when I scrolled up our dm to take a screenshot of it.

Now I wanted to leave that convo because I wasn't in the mood for arguing, and I've learned to give people what they want, which makes em and yourself stop. My fault again.

Things happen. It leads to the apology. Now, obviously, I can't tell if an apology is genuine through a screen, and I am most certainly a pessimist. So, like, I don't think it is. Also, I'm almost certain that most was written by whoever the friend was who 'helped' em.

Sure, people can change, but not enough times do they actually. Just look on the Internet. And real life. A person like Jack, well, they've talked to me enough to know it is most likely not the case. If they were so angry at a piece of good criticism, then I don't have much hope.

Am I an angry person ? Yes. Do I think I have the right to be? Yes. Am I also a logical person? I believe so. The people I've asked think so, too. I don't dislike something for no reason. But I do dislike things. What I do like is reasons for my dislikes. With me so far?

Good. Moving on.

After the apology and after I finally got my thoughts in order, I sent them a message because they tagged me. A lot.

This is what I sent. It's emotional, but in my opinion, it also makes sense. I was mad they lied to me. I was mad they twisted the story so. Fucking. Much. Odysseus isn't a rapist and Circe isn't an innocent flower. That is not what an AU is. What was their reaction to this? Nothing. To me at least.

A mutual friend told me they sent the last half of my messages and told them that they were angry I. Didn't. Thank. Them. For. The. Apology. Take that for what you will.

Now they made another post replying to the first anon who criticized them. I've read it. And when I tell you it is so fulled with self-pity-

I haven't collected my thoughts properly about this so this is bad and more emotion than the above. but this is the basic things behind it.

1) never directly addressing what he did and constantly tell em to read the apology. Don't wanna repeat yourself. How much time is it gonna take out of your day exactly?

2) not acknowledging the fact the male sa victim. At all. They don't say anything about it. No 'my condolences'. No 'I'm so sorry that happened to you' . Not acknowledging how terrible of a thing that is. At all.

3)says they aren't gonna defend themself... and defend themselves

4) have yet to tell us who these people are. Which is just bad cuz there are people out there who are okay with this. If they were IRL friends just say that.

5) it felt just fucking dull

Maybe this isn't right. Maybe you disagree with these points. But do not tell me you disagree with the rest.

I wanna end this by saying I am victim of SA. Did I tell him this? No. Maybe I should've. I don't feel comfortable sharing it. Because remembring fucking hurts. Remembering means crying and opening the lights and either sitting or laying down on my back because I can still. Fucking. Feel. It. And I was nine.

I don't want your pity on this. I don't want you to say sorry. The people you should be saying sorry to are the people who are not believed when this happens. Feel sorry for the people who cannot report this stuff because they don't trust the people who are supposed to protect them. Feel sorry for the people who think it was their fault and they actually wanted it when they didn't. 63% of rape are not reported in females. Only 12% of child rapes are reported.

I can't find a clear fucking statistics on males.

Do you know how difficult it is for males to have any representation at all? How many male victims do you see online? Even Odysseus being regonized as one is recent. Fucking. Stop. This is more than a made up story. It means the world to some people. So this actually happen. It might mean everything. This was taken away from them from so many retellings. And a stupid fucking au.

If you want to talk about SA, wanna make a character out of it, learn about it first.

So I'm not going to forgive and I am definitely not going to forget. You can. If you want. I don't care if you do. But I ask you not to forget. Please.

I am tagging Jack's taglist

@zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite @fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son @bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @hispanic-child-of-hermes @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial @reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia @that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass @kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @zoe-aura-of-d3ath @itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena @sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan @demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes @cloak-of-ares @heraaaaaaaa @unproblematic-hestia @i-was-never-sane

[yuragiku]

mine to miss | jung sungchan, song eunseok

pairing: jung sungchan x fem!reader x song eunseok

plot: you were done with love. you said goodbye to your best friend at his behest, and now, you were a lost soul in a bustling city. your mantra was to divert, avoid, and ignore—and it would've worked well until the end of the year had a spunky, friendly, and absolutely loud-mouthed soccer player barged into your lone seat at a restaurant.

"psst, i need you to pretend you're my date. i don't have any money right now, but i'll pay for all your lunches here from next week onward."

alternatively, the one where the campus hotshot tries his best to make you forget about your best friend back home.

wc: 44.1k

genre: melodrama, coming of age, slow burn, e2l kinda

warnings: R18+ DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE A MINOR OR IF YOU THINK YOU'RE NOT IN THE RIGHT MENTAL HEADSPACE TO READ ABOUT THE FOLLOWING; heavy depictions and mentions of depression, anxiety, and mental illness; heavy discussions of death and s*uicide; heavy depictions of substance abuse (alcohol and party drugs); graphic depictions of anxiety attacks; heavy depictions of rehab and therapy; EXPLICIT SMUT (UNPROTECTED SEX WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, public sex, nipple play, oral m receiving), heavy discussions of sex; existential dread; hospital imagery; graphic depictions of mild violence; mentions of food and water; a lot of tension really; political discussions of 80s korea

extra notes: THIS IS PART TWO OF never meant. I REPEAT. PART TWO! PLEASE READ THAT ONE FIRST. heavily inspired by norwegian wood (haruki murakami), and american football's lp2. as always, NEVER SKIP THE WARNINGS PLEASE !! YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME AND CAN BACK OUT AT ANY TIME !! she cooked but i don't know if she delivered. anywho, thank you so much for reading mine to miss, and as always, i don't know when my next story will come out but she'll come out when she has to !! most likely a PART THREE because this has gotten a lot longer than i would've linked :////

COPYRIGHT 2024 YURAGIKU. DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE.

During the summer holidays, the riot police were everywhere, seizing all buildings and quickly arresting students and professors in quick succession. This was nothing new. Places for the intelligentsia to prosper always had its fair share of dissidents, and they were the most difficult to dismantle in terms of rebellion groups owing to the amount of funding universities get from the government. Even if Yonsei had been known to be a liberal school, there was always the other half of the staunch conservative faculty who may or may not have served in the electoral college. Around the start of September, the dawn of a new semester, this normalcy had died down. There were no more police everywhere you went in Seoul; you didn’t need to go to the office to bookkeep for the New Korean Democratic Party, and work at the campus library became your main priority. To your surprise, everything in the library was untouched. Each book was still confined in its respective shelf, the reception desk was unscathed and pristine, albeit dusty from a lack of use, and nothing on campus was burned. 

Of course, violence didn’t equate to a passionate, successful demonstration, but you were a little confused at the cleanliness of the university past the June struggles. Books were usually a target during riots, often burned in a bonfire by dissidents who disagreed with authoritarianism. Still, when you walked around the politics section of the library, you found everything in place, as if nobody had entered the library at all since the demonstrations began. 

Upon announcing the June 29 declaration, things returned to normal in a snap of a finger. The same people who were the most vocal during the protests sat at the very front of the lecture hall, seen as martyrs or assholes, depending on who you ask. As if nothing had ever happened, they took their notes in silence, never bringing up the core reason for resistance to a professor who openly admitted his support for the Korean Army’s coup in 1961. The sheer hypocrisy of it all left you awestruck, to say the least. It’s not to say you were avidly passionate when participating in the riots, but consistency was the least you expected from the forerunners of the student demonstrations. Even if things had arguably ended and all their demands were met, a military officer was still elected. Shouldn’t they be mad? What was the entire point of calling for a democratic constitutional amendment and fair elections when a complicit military officer, who was a part of the elite that wanted all of South Korea under a dictatorship, won the elections supposedly “fair and square”? When you dared to ask some of the protest leaders, whom you also worked with at the New Korean Democratic Party office and frequently saw in secret Marxist lectures, why they were doing anything about the election of Roh Tae-woo, they shrugged. 

“There’s no foul play as far as we know,” One of them said. “We can’t really scream about paper tigers.” 

What a joke! At that point, they should’ve just told you they were afraid to lose participation marks! To think that they were the same idiots who passionately beat police officers up, closed down the campus, and led a sit-in hunger strike for a week! 

For a while, you faithfully attended lectures, staying quiet when the professor would ask for your name in attendance. Participation marks meant nothing to you anymore, and to a certain extent, university education started to make less sense. You concluded that people only really went to university when their parents could afford it or when it benefitted them. Nobody went to school to pursue knowledge anymore, and it wasn’t like you had the passion or the drive to pioneer a new school of thought. There was nothing you wanted to accomplish in society that required you to drop out of university, so you had no choice but to attend lectures every day, take notes, read when you could, and spend your free time in the library before and after your shift there. Nonchalance made you an extremely diligent student. 

You kept Eunseok’s room clean in his absence. When you had the chance, you asked the landlord to remove his name from the mailbox and the apartment door, telling him that Eunseok was never coming back. You returned from your shifts at the library and your lectures to clear Eunseok’s belongings bit by bit, repackaging them in neat, large boxes that you dragged to your apartment. You began reading through his books despite having a distaste for fiction, spending each morning with a different novel in hand alongside your regular routine of coffee. With the help of the janitor, you moved Eunseok’s prized bookshelf to your apartment, arranging your furniture like Eunseok did when he was still living next to you. Even if you missed him dearly, the only way to keep him in your heart is through the homage of his book collection. You didn’t know why he left it in Seoul when he would most likely need it for his treatment at the mountainous sanitorium, but you digress. Things unfolded the way they did, and now, you were alone again. 

Directly after your shift, the sun began to set, adding a warm vibrance to the fallen Zelkova leaves trailing along the pavement. You decided to eat dinner outside instead of opting for your usual meal plans after Mirae had told you about an excellent Western place that served delicious seafood pasta and salad for a cheap deal. The restaurant was a little challenging because it was strewn across many intersections and alleyways, but the quiet, faint location made you sure you could relax once you got inside. 

Once the waitress took your order, a group of four students came in, taking one of the bigger tables with velvet armchairs on the edge of the restaurant. Two men and two women in their young twenties, all stylish and had an air of money to them. By the time you finished your appetizer, the group was still arguing over what they wanted, only for one to call the waitress to relay the same lunch deal for everybody. 

Your pasta had arrived, and in between picking up a copy of Heidegger’s Being and Time while slowly twirling pasta on your fork, you noticed that one of the men kept glancing in your direction. Apart from the curvature of his doe, deer-like eyes, he had a sloppily cut mullet that suited his face—the kind that looked good no matter what he wore or how he presented himself. Despite the weather, he wore a white fleece Addidas pullover and baggy jeans. You had no idea who he was, so you went on with your lunch, twirling the pasta on your fork in the same rhythm and timing as your progress on Heidegger. Before you knew it, you placed your book down, twirled another small serving of pasta on your fork, and had the mysterious man sitting in front of you, neck leaning closer and closer until you could see the hazel shine of his big doe eyes. 

“Hey! It’s been a while,” He said with an exaggerated jubilee. You took your copy of Heidegger, playing with the book’s binding while examining his features up close. Even then, you couldn’t remember seeing him at all. If you had met him on the off chance, you would surely recognize him. He was the kind of man you’d notice from afar, especially with his choppy mullet. 

“Are you expecting someone?” He asked, his voice suddenly changing to a low whisper. Uncertain, you shook your head, remaining still while his breath tickled your ear. 

“No, I don’t think anyone’s coming today.” Heaving a sigh of relief, he slumped himself on the chair before you, reverberating a grating thud that made his companions stare. He moved closer again, eyes directly in front of your food, then looked up to give you a smile that was too bright to handle. 

“Looks good,” 

“Your table got the same thing,”

“Oh,” He panicked. “Right… about that.” 

“I don’t think I’ve met you anywhere around campus, and I’m not even sure if we go to the same university,” You blurted. The man in front of you heaved a dejected sigh, extending his long arms around the circumference of his chair. There was a genuine tinge of hurt in his breath, and you put your fork down, taking your copy of Heidegger and stuffing it in your bag. This was the type of conversation that demanded your full, unbridled attention. 

“We were in the same calculus class in first year, then basically took the same courses in the second, and now, we share advanced macroeconomics and econometrics,” 

“Econometrics with Professor Goo just ended, though.” You replied, peering deeper and deeper into his twinkling eyes. He tried his best to do a middle part with his extremely short bangs, making you finally remember who he was. A drastic change in hairstyle had prevented you from recognizing him, 

“Were you in Choi’s seminar? The one that always brought a huge hockey stick to class?” Sungchan vehemently nodded, a bright smile etched on his face.

“I play soccer in the summer, and it bothered me to have hair on my face, so I just got some scissors and cut the front.”

“Looks nice on you,” You said, picking your fork up to twist a few bits of pasta and shrimp together. 

“They don’t think so,” He scoffed. “I thought it looked okay initially, but all the girls don’t dig it. They told me I looked better when I had a clean cut without anything trailing past my neck, saying I looked like the mentally ill son of a war veteran! Could you believe that? The audacity of it all, my god! Why do all girls think a clean cut with a middle part makes you look refined? Because I, for one, know that all those assholes with the same haircut belong straight to the sewer.”

As far as you can remember, you meant it when you said he looked good. It wasn’t just the hair or his bright, doe eyes. He exuded the organic inertia, a force of life, as he sat in front of you. He was like a large deer with strong antlers running around the forest, galloping in the serenity of lush greeneries. His entire being moved with bursting energies of joy, laughter, annoyance, and despair—as if he were the embodiment of explosive emotion. You hadn’t seen such vibrance and color in ages and must admit that you enjoyed seeing him like that. 

“Aren’t your friends waiting for you?” To this, a flip switched inside him, snapping him back to reality. His eyes widened, taking in all the light the sun had given him that afternoon, redirecting all of it back to you in pure, blunt force. 

“That’s why I came here!” He exclaimed, his eyes turning up into shiny crescents. “You see one of those girls there?” He pointed at a girl who wore her hair in a short bob, her white cotton dress barely covering her thighs. You nodded, watching her tall nose go up and down as you predicted the flow of their conversation in your head. 

“My friend, Jaemin, is trying to set me up with her, but I’m not really feeling it. She’s a little too uptight and bitter for my taste, and she would never stop talking about her ex. Like, I get that it scarred her, but why is she here right now, trying to get with me, if she knows she needs time to sort things out on her own?” 

You averted your gaze from the girl, then stuffed your hands in your pockets. You instantly saw a flash of Eunseok in the girl, sensing the same brooding loneliness and desperation he had when he held you. You called the waiter and grabbed another cup of coffee, refraining from adding milk or sugar. The man stared at you in disgust, making a snarky remark about how much of a tryhard you were. 

“Look at me, I’m so cool! I drink black coffee and I read German philosophy!” 

You pressed your mouth in a neat, thin line, opening the book and picking up where you left off. You left a few bites of pasta on your plate, and the man in front of you dragged your tray and your fork, using his long, slender fingers to push the book down until you could see his eyes, which were staring at you with a frightening intensity. 

“Anyway, I need you to act like my date for a bit. I told her I was already seeing a girl, and luckily, you were here before me!” 

“I don’t even know your name.” You said dryly. You were ready to take your bag and leave a tip for the waiter. 

“Sungchan, Jung Sungchan, the most unholy relic you’ve ever seen,” He grabbed his chair and stood up, shocking you a little with how tall he was. You rarely come across people that were his height, and in a sense, you liked that he was tall enough to obscure you from his group of friends. You wanted to dine here alone, after all. 

“What if I turn your offer down?” 

“Then I’ll cry right here, right now.” 

“Cry about it.”

“You sure?” 

“What’s that got to do with me?” 

The determination in Sungchan’s eyes stayed undeterred. Before he could cause a scene, you paid your bill to the waitress, went outside the restaurant, and dragged him along, making a quick, sharp turn on one of the alleyways across the road. You took a deep breath, sharply inhaling and exhaling through your lungs. Sungchan’s innate enthusiasm flickered slightly, but he still looked like he was about to burst with energy. 

“I’m not really in the right headspace to fuck around right now, so please try your luck with someone else.” 

“I can’t.” He blurted. “I already told them your name. Besides, it won’t be too difficult. All you have to do is be with me all the time. That would get Jaemin to stop worrying, and I would basically have an impromptu restraining order on its own,” 

“Restraining order?” 

Sungchan nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, a restraining order. If people saw me with you all the time, started spreading rumors, and have that circulate around campus, then I’m sure I could get a few admirers off my back,” 

By now, Sungchan’s food should’ve arrived at his table, but he didn’t move. He simply stayed put, eagerly waiting for your answer. You didn’t give him any. 

“Come on!” He complained. “I’ll buy you lunch every day. I have no money now, but I should be able to get it soon since I have to coach a children’s match next week,” 

Judging from his stature, it was natural to infer that he played sports. In first year, he had a hockey stick with him at all times, his blades sticking out of his bag like a walking hazard. 

“How did you even get my name?” 

“I looked at our class roster and thought, ah! She’s someone I’ve known since first year!”

“That’s it?” Sungchan nodded, hands still in his pockets. 

The midday sun strewn with his sweat made his mullet stick right onto his temple, giving him the same look as Peanut’s yellow “safety helmet.” The question now was whether he would dye his hair blonde, but you found the dark, jet-black on him a good look. 

“Yeah, and you’re not so bad yourself, you know? I think we could make a cute campus couple,” He joked. 

“The free lunches sound like a good deal, but I’ll pass. Go find another one,” 

“Are you always alone like that?” Sungchan asked. The intenseness in his gaze had softened, and his hands were out of his pockets. You nodded, and before you could leave the alleyway, he blocked the road with his tall stature, head standing right in front of the sun like a golden halo. 

“Nobody likes to be alone, but I’m just tired of it all.”

“Woe is me; you can definitely publish that in your autobiography or something,” You muttered a small ‘thanks.’ Then, you tried to leave again. This time, he walked around to your side, neck leaning down to meet your eyes, keeping a close distance between you. 

“Tell me, do you always wear such tacky clothes?” 

“Yes, I do.” You snapped back patiently. 

“Yes, I do, I love the way you talk. It’s like there’s no bullshit to it. No flare, no theatrics—not even any poetry! It’s so… smooth? Something like a calm river instead of a thrashing sea. Has anyone ever told you that?” 

You shook your head again, trying to hide how taken aback you were by his sudden monologue. He gave you a wide, ear-to-ear grin, taking his pinky out and putting it right in front of your lips. 

“I need to take you out for dinner, that’s non-negotiable. But think the offer through. I know you like being in your own little, solitary bubble surrounded by pretentious books, but if you change your mind, let me know.” 

He ran back inside with his friends after who you assumed was Jaemin came out of the restaurant, nagging him about his food getting cold. He ignored his friend for a little while, keeping his eyes on you as you clutched your bag, ready to take the summer trek along the river to head back to your apartment. He seemed to be mulling over something, then he quickly took your hands in his, squeezed them, and went back inside the restaurant. He had his eyes on you, trailing your silhouette as you disappeared through the back alleyway near the restaurant, using a shortcut to get to the main bridge of the Han River.

In the following week, Sungchan didn’t keep his promise. There was no sign of him in the restaurant, and you thought of waiting for him over the same pasta and salad set, but the place started to fill up, prompting you to leave and go somewhere else. Sungchan was also not there when you attended your afternoon econometrics class. Upon asking your professor where he was, he shrugged and said he didn’t get any word of Sungchan’s absence. 

“He’s the type of kid who always skips, you shouldn’t waste your time with someone like him.”

Walking to the receptionist, you booked an appointment with student affairs, searching their records for a “Jung Sungchan.” Sure enough, his name was listed in three classes you shared this semester: econometrics, quantitative analysis in public policy, and advanced macroeconomics. Then, you found the address to his house and a telephone number. He entered the university in 1984, living in the suburbs of Western Seoul with her family. 

When you dialed the phone, a woman answered. “Jung Records, how may I help you today?” Jung Records? You balanced the receiver between your cheeks and shoulders, twirling the cord around your fingers. 

“Sorry, is Sungchan around?”

“No, he’s not.”

“Do you know where he might be? He’s missed today’s class, and I wanted to see if I could give him my notes.” You lied, hearing some rustling on the other end of the line. 

“He’s most likely at the hospital.”

You thanked and hung up, wondering what he could do at the hospital. Was he injured? Is it from soccer? Was he sick? Many scenarios swirled in your head, and the mysterious calm on the other end of the line worsened your unease. How could he say such a thing so nonchalantly, as if he was just going out to get groceries? Was he the type to always get sick? The questions didn’t seem to end until you reached the door to your apartment. Your body sank onto the couch, and you continued your debate with Heidegger. 

The following week, you faithfully attended the econometrics lecture, sitting at the front of the lecture hall. You still saw no signs of Jung Sungchan, and after scanning the entire room, you took some letter paper from your bag and began drafting a letter to Eunseok. You wrote about the protests, your activities with the New Korean Democratic Party, and the people you had met during your political tenure. 

After filling three sheets, you folded them inside an envelope and addressed them to Eunseok’s house in Jeju. By then, the lecturer had arrived, dabbing his face gracefully with a handkerchief as he began to take attendance. He was a tall, lanky man who walked with so much authority that the class stopped whatever they were doing when he came inside the room. Despite his strict and well-prepared nature, he could do nothing to make a subject such as econometrics fun. Without preamble, he starts the lecture where the class left off last week, explaining the concept of multivariate regression. When the door opened, he had written some formulas and statistical variants on the chalkboard for twenty minutes, revealing a disheveled Sungchan. He was wearing a blue Adidas tracksuit and some loose-fitting joggers. After making a quick bow and smiling at the professor, he sat beside you. Then, he took out his notebook and a small notepad, tearing one of the pages to hastily write something. 

Sorry about yesterday, are you angry?

You shook your head and kept your eyes on the tall, lanky professor filling the chalkboard with more equations, filling your notebook with the same formulas. Sungchan kept his eyes on you while you copied everything down, watching your swift fingers seamlessly jot down everything the professor wrote at lightning speed. 

“Mind sharing the notes with me later?” He asked. You nodded, keeping your eyes on your notebook. 

There were about thirty minutes left of the lecture when you saw two students enter the door, both carrying the same political smell that most of your colleagues at the New Korean Democratic Party had. One of them, a stout, round fellow with prominent cheeks and dopey eyes, took a quick glance at you before going in front of the professor and asking for the room to be accessible for a political debate. 

“I know you assholes are used to the school running a muck for your liberal agenda, but I don’t care. This is my class, and if you’re not fine with that, go leave and find another classroom to bother.”

After clearing his throat, the professor turned to your direction to ask if you had a part in this. You kept your eyes between your notebook and the chalkboard, shrugging off any suspicion the professor may have for you.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Sungchan whispered once the class had ended. You gave the stout one quick wave before they stormed the classroom, passing handbills to bystanders on campus election fraud. While you were technically a part of the crowd, you had to admit that the movement had been getting uninspired since the June 29 declaration. Free and fair elections were back as you knew it, and despite local politics, you realized student government didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if the union benefitted you in any way, and most of your insurance was paid for by the government, not by any union efforts to safeguard dental or dermatology. Besides, you couldn’t care less about having perfect teeth or smooth skin. It wasn’t the end of your world if you had to pay a couple extra just to have pearly whites and glass-like, porcelain skin. 

“Do you think they’ll kill us after the revolution?” Sungchan asked when the two of you were outside of the lecture hall. 

“I’m technically part of the problem,” You replied, dodging through a crowd of people to swiftly get to the exit. Sungchan followed suit, using his long arms to push past people who were getting in your way. 

“So you’re a communist who likes German philosophy because you wanna be oh-so-cool, that’s funny. I like it.” 

“I’m gonna go eat lunch,” 

“There’s a place I wanna take you. It’s not that far from here,”

Sungchan took you to the bus to Dongdaemun and showed you to a Russian restaurant with specialty pierogies in a neatly sheltered spot just behind the market. The minute the two of you sat down, they served you some borscht and the lunch of the day in large plates. You had never had Russian food before, but the distance was worth the meal. 

“This is great,”

“And cheap, too. I came here before the Russians when it was still some sketchy, run-down marketplace. This used to be a dumpling place run by some old guy when I was still going to school, and we all had to sneak out since they were so strict about these things.” 

When Sungchan wasn’t busy finishing his borscht, he would rub his sleepy, heavy lids, which looked much more languid than last time. When he wasn’t playing with his chopsticks or hounding the Russian waiter for more soup, he would incessantly rub the corners of his eyes, careful not to put any borscht residue on them. 

“Tired?” You asked.

“Sorta. I haven’t been getting enough sleep lately, but it’s okay, don’t worry about me.” He replied. “Sorry about the other day. Something important came up, and I couldn’t ditch it. I thought about calling you at the restaurant, but I couldn’t remember your name and didn’t know your home number. Did you wait too long?” 

You shook your head amidst a cup of warm tea. “No worries, I’m a woman with a lot of time.”

“A lot?” 

“Yes, way more than I need, to be honest. I wish I could give you some to help you sleep.” 

Sungchan rested his cheek on his palms, a vast, crescent-eyed grin forming. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” 

“I don’t think so. Like I said, I just have too much time to kill.” 

You thought about telling him you called his house but decided against it. There was always a time and a place for anything, and if he wanted to tell you about it, he would at a particular time in a specific place. While Sungchan was a chatty person, there was a meticulous way that he picked and chose what type of conversation he wanted to have, almost as if directing the flow of his words solely to avoid something he didn’t like to talk about. You felt the hospital was sensitive to it, so you dropped it altogether. 

He took you to his old school, a short walk from Dongdaemun. Passing through the bus stop and the train station, you thought about Eunseok and your endless walks with him. It had all started back home on the beaches of Jeju, and it arguably ended here in the city. If Eunseok had never visited you in Seoul, your life would have been different. Then, you changed your mind. No, even if he never visited Seoul to see you, your life wouldn’t change. He was meant to come to see you; if not, he was bound to visit you some other time. There was no logic to it; it was just a feeling. 

You and Sungchan sat on a park bench together, looking through the tall gates of his old school. Vines of old-growth moss clung to the walls, and pigeons huddled under the rooftop, resting their wings. While the building looked nice, something was brooding and ominous about it. 

“I really didn’t wanna go to this school,” Sungchan started. He shook his head until his eyes had hit the ground. “I wanted to go to a normal State school with normal people where I could just be myself and have fun like a normal teenager, but my parents thought it would look good on me to go to this stuck-up, fancy place. They’re the ones who sent me in here, and I suppose that’s just what happens when you do well in primary school. The teacher tells your parents that you have more potential, and they start considering it too, even if they didn’t have the budget to send me here. I went here for like, six years, and I absolutely hated it. All I could think of then was to leave, and you know, I’ve gotten awards for never being late or having missed a day of school. That’s how much I hated this place. Do you get what I’m saying?” 

“No, not really.” 

“It’s because I hated this damn place so much, that I wasn’t going to let it beat me. Because if I let them get to me even just once, I’d be finished. I was scared I’d just keep slipping down and down. Even if I was sick, I’d crawl to school, teetering at my last breath with a temperature of 39 degrees. When the teachers would ask me if I was sick, I would always shake my head and go to class. When I left, they gave me awards for perfect attendance and punctuality, plus a tennis racket for being one of the best tennis players in the school. That’s why I’m never playing tennis at university ever again. I didn’t wanna owe this school anything.” 

“Why did you hate your school so much?” 

“Did you enjoy going to your school?” 

“Not really, but I didn’t hate it. I went to a normal State school, but I didn’t really think about it at all. 

“Well, this school,” Sungchan explained, using the tip of his index finger to rub his eyes. “Had nothing but upper-class boys, almost four hundred boys from a prestigious background. Rich boys. They all had to be rich and stay rich to survive. Expensive tuition, donations, and extravagant school trips. If we went to Busan, they’d book the most expensive hotel and serve us the best seafood on lacquerware, then take us to a fancy hotel in Seoul to teach us some table manners. This wasn’t an ordinary school at all. And out of a hundred boys in my class, I was the only one from a middle-class background. I looked at the class register to see where everyone else lived, and they were all from a rich area like Gangnam. One boy from Incheon was an heir to a farm that I became friends with, and he was really nice. But can you imagine him feeling embarrassed about living in Incheon? I mean, this was the type of kid that got driven around in a Benz by a chauffeur! And still, he had this inferiority complex. Can you believe it?” 

You shook your head in disbelief. 

“I was the only one in the whole school who came from a suburb like Ichon. My parents were the only record shop owners in there, and when my classmates would say I was lucky to have all the records I wanted to listen to at the tip of my fingers, I would laugh at them! Of course, they expected something big like an HMV, but no! Records have been dying since the Walkman was created, and they would’ve never expected a small, poor, little Jung Records. From the entrance to the cash register, there is nothing but old records from pop stars you’ve never even heard of! The only people who still shop there are the widowed ahjummas who don’t know how to use a Walkman or a Boombox! No Beatles, no New Order, not even Wham! Do you think I’m lucky?” 

When you closed your eyes, you could see the type of place Sungchan was talking about. A cozy, run-down record store in the middle of an alleyway in suburban Seoul, welcoming regulars in the neighborhood who were too old to adapt to a newer, digital age.

“What I will tell you, though, is that it’s not bad business. Everyone in the neighborhood has known who we are for some time now, and we always deliver. Also, we make more than enough to support a family of four. No debts, two sons in university, but that’s it. There are no extras, and they should’ve never sent me to a school like that. It was a recipe for disaster. I had to hear them complain about the uptick in tuition every year when they thought I was asleep, and whenever the school would ask for a donation, they scrambled everything they could to provide even just a tiny amount. I never made friends, nor did I hang out with anybody after school because I was always so scared of running out of money in case they wanted to go someplace expensive to eat. It’s such a miserable way to live. Anyway, is your family rich?” 

You shook your head. “My parents are white-collar working-class people who’ve been working as auditors for a cargo company in Jeju. We’re not rich or poor, and I know it hasn’t been easy on them to send me all the way to Seoul, but it’s just me, so that’s not really a big deal. I work part-time to take the load off them, and our house back in Jeju is just a regular two-story home with a little garden for our dog and a Toyota Corolla parked in the garage.”

“Where do you work, and what do you do?”

“I work at the library in Yonsei. There’s not much to do other than sorting books out and hounding the people that have books overdue.” 

Sungchan’s mouth was agape, doe-eyes glimmering in the sunset as he shifted closer to your frame. “You’re joking, right? I mean, you just seem like someone who’s had an easy life, you know?” 

“It’s not like we ever suffered financially, but it’s not like I had tons of money growing up, either. I’m just like everyone else.” 

“Well, everyone else in my school was rich,” Sungchan replied, squeezing his knees with his palms.

“Now that you’re out of that environment, I’m sure you’ll have a lot of chances to see the normal people you craved so much, you know?” 

“I hope so… I mean, university’s going great so far! It’s full of normal people!” He smiled with the slightest curl of his lip and smoothed his mullet with the palms of his hand. 

“Do you have a job?” You asked.

“Yeah, I work at the campus radio. I make little playlists and recommendations for people who ask, with descriptions of what makes each song special or something like that. We also play songs on the radio depending on what people request, whether they want something romantic, sad, or happy, because those are the three moods that only exist when it comes to music. It’s so easy! Takes zero time and no effort at all. I can come up with an entire playlist and burn it on a cassette tape in a day. All you have to do is master a couple of secrets about the trade, and all kinds of work, regardless of the type, comes your way.” 

“And what are these secrets?” 

“Say, you take the entire mood of heartbreak, for example. Sure, there are many songs about heartbreak, but you need to know what type of heartbreak the person requesting a playlist or recommendations is going through. It doesn’t have to be anything big at all, just some tiny nuance like that. People also love graphic sentimentality, so make sure you’re curating songs and artists that really speak to them, and the money comes decent.” 

“Yeah, but don’t nuances get a bit too tedious? And doesn’t it require enough knowledge of musicians, artists, etc.?” 

“True,” Sungchan replied, tilting his head so that his choppy bangs flowed back and forth between his forehead. “But if you look for them, you usually find them, say, in like a gossip magazine or a music almanac. And if you don’t, there’s really no harm in making stuff up. I never get caught.” 

He said he wanted to hear more about you, so you told him the usual stories you would tell in the first year about Peanut and Mirae. You would tell him precisely about Peanut’s’ neat freak tendencies, her yellow “safety helmet” that she wore alongside several layers of surgical masks, safety goggles, shin pads, and UV-repellant clothing. Peanut especially made Sungchan laugh, wishing he had a chance to look at the dorm back then.

“Now, it’s just me alone with my coffee and my daily paper next to the Han River, either going to lectures, going to work at the library and sitting on my secret spot during breaks, sometimes going to the party office to do some bookkeeping for them sometimes, or sometimes organizing and attending riots.” 

“Does every girl just casually mention that one day she’ll either be a martyr or get arrested by the government for treason?” 

You laughed, crossed your legs, and stared at the clear, open blue sky. “Yeah, I think so. We all love to talk, as quiet as we may be.” 

“Even something as top secret as government insurgency?” 

“Maybe? But what we do at the party, at least as far as I know, has nothing to do with government insurgency. Things have been relatively calm since the June 29 declaration, and although people are somewhat angry at the results, there’s nothing we can do when there’s no foul play in the presidential elections. He won fair and square.”

“I don’t really know much about this sort of stuff when I should, I mean, I don’t know. I couldn’t care less about politics, to be honest,” 

“Well, I guess those ahjummas stopping by the record store don’t talk about it enough,” 

“Not at all!” He replied, laughing. “Anyway, how’s Sunday looking this week? Are you free?” 

“Yeah, I should be. The library’s closed, so I shouldn’t have work, either.” 

“Why don’t you come visit me? At Jung Records? The shop will be closed, but I have to hang around there all day to watch a few things. I also might be getting an important phone call, but that’s beside the point. How does lunch sound? I can cook for you,” 

“I think I’d like that,” You said with a smile. 

Sungchan tore a page from his notepad and wrote the address and the nearest train station and bus stop to his record shop. 

“Really, once you walk straight from the station to the residential area, you can’t miss it. There’s a big sign that says Jung Records. Come at around noon. I should have something ready for us by then.” 

After thanking him, you put the page in your jacket pocket. “I should be getting back to campus now; my shift starts in an hour.”

Sungchan said he had somewhere to be as well and took the train from Dongdaemun.

When Sunday morning came, you woke at eight, made coffee, read the daily paper, did your laundry, and hung the clothes on your balcony. You picked out a lovely, long black maxi dress with thin straps that gracefully went over your shoulders. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining brightly over everything it touched, adding a spiritual iridescence to things so banal. Ladybugs fluttered everywhere, sitting atop your stretched-out duvet hanging on the balcony. With no wind, the river looked flat from where you were. Despite being a student, the area you lived in housed more families and entry-level graduates, so Sunday wasn’t dead quiet. In fact, it was quite the opposite. While most shops were closed, children were still running around the riverbank, playing hopscotch or tag while their parents watched on picnic mats. Another group of kids just across the pavement were throwing rocks at empty cans. A flower shop was open right next to the train station, so you went in and bought some daffodils. You knew it wasn’t in season, especially with the dawn of autumn, but you’ve always liked daffodils. 

Three old women sat across you on the train, looking at you and your flowers. One of them gave you a smile, and you smiled back. You sat in the train’s last car, watching the ancient houses stack on top of mountains like piles of dominoes. The train was a little slow and flimsy today, but the speed was enough for you to see the laundry deck out of each resident’s window. One of the windows had a small garden with ten juicy, ripe tomatoes beside a big calico cat stretched out in the sun. In the window of another house, a little girl in ribbons was blowing soap bubbles with her mother. You heard a distant Lee Sunhee ballad through the radio from somewhere, and you could catch a view of old men doing stretches at the park below the train tracks. After snaking its way through a large tunnel, a few more passengers got on. Despite that, the three old women stayed still, talking intently about something while huddled together in their seats. 

You got off near Ichon station and asked a staff member if he knew the quickest route to the residential area, as written in Sungchan’s notes. When offered to walk with you, you politely declined, simply asking for directions so you have a good idea of where you were. Any street signs, turns, or landmarks were all you needed to ground yourself in this part of town. 

As you began your journey, the shops you passed by didn’t look too well; they were housed in old buildings with gloomy interiors and faded writing on some of the signs. Judging from the age and style of the buildings, you believe that this area was spared during the bombing raids in World War II and the Korean War, as whole blocks and districts were still intact. Some buildings had been rebuilt, with giant apartments erected in an old neighborhood. Besides, most houses had been enlarged or repaired in certain places, giving off a shabby or tacky look. The entire atmosphere of the place gave you the impression that the original residents had given up on the taxing toll of city life and moved to the suburbs, leaving nothing but cheap, run-down apartment blocks, empty lots, and a few stubborn families who clung to their long-time family businesses. 

A few minutes of walking uphill brought you to a corner shop, where you turned left into a small, albeit dead, market on the right side in the middle of the road, which hung a large sign for Jung Records. While it wasn’t a big shop by all means, it wasn’t the tiny, mom-and-pop locality Sungchan had described. It was just a typical neighborhood record shop, the same ones you used to pass by on your commute to school. A wave of nostalgia hit you as you stood in front of the place, and you grazed your hands on the big, metal shutter that covered the entrance to the shop. You were technically ten or so minutes early, but you didn’t know how you’d kill your time in a neighborhood that seemingly didn’t have a coffee shop, so you pressed the buzzer and kept the bouquet of daffodils snug in your arms. Only a few seconds had passed, and you looked up to see Sungchan leaning over, long arms waving at you. 

“Come in,” he yelled. “Just lift the shutter with the other button there.” He pointed at a button next to the buzzer marked with an ‘x’ over masking tape. 

“Is it okay if I come in? I’m kind of early?” You shouted back.

“No problem. Come in and make yourself comfortable. I’m busy in the kitchen right now.” He left the balcony in a hurry. 

The whirring of the shutter made you drop the daffodils on your arms as soon as it lifted itself up. It flimsily stopped midway through opening itself entirely, so you used the chance to duck inside the shop, then pressed the button with the masking tape again to see if it could close it back. To your surprise, it did, and you swiftly picked your daffodils from the ground and covered your nose with a handkerchief as you traversed through the store. The shop was pitch black inside, and you managed to find your way around by feeling through shelves and piles of records, tripping over square-shaped vinyl jackets on your way to the staircase. You kicked your Mary Janes off and climbed the stairs to the dining table. The only light source entering the living area was a small opening in a matted curtain, making the interior dark and gloomy. 

“Over here,” Sungchan called. To the corner on the right of the room was the kitchen, with all the windows opened. The entire building was old, but something new about the kitchen made it stand out from the rest of the shop and the rooms in the house. You didn’t know if it was because Sungchan regularly polished the counter, or if it was due to the shiny luster in the sink taps, but the kitchen was the only place that felt like it belonged in the current era, while the rest of the building was a bygone relic. Sungchan was preparing food, busy pacing around with bubbling pots and the smell of grilled fish. 

“There’s beer in the fridge if you want,” he said, taking a quick glance in your direction. 

“Make yourself comfortable. I should be done in a few,” You nodded and took a can of beer from the mini-fridge. The beer was so cold that it might have been in the fridge for an entire year. There was a small white ashtray on the table, the daily paper, and a couple of condiments. There was also the same notepad that Sungchan used when he gave you the directions to his place with a pen, a hastily written phone number, and what appeared to be a shopping list written on the side. 

“Wait, I lied. I should be done in about ten,” He said, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his tank top. “Can you wait, or are you so hungry that you could devour a three-course meal in one go?” 

“I can wait,” You replied. 

“Good.” He said with a smile. “Get hungrier, then. I’m making a lot.” 

You slowly sipped your beer and focused on Sungchan as he continued cooking, his broad shoulders and muscular back on you. He worked with quick, nimble movements, handling four cooking utensils simultaneously. He tasted a boiled dish in one pot, and the next second, he was rhythmically cutting vegetables on the cutting board; then, he was crouched over on the fridge, and before you knew it, his back was on the sink washing a pot that he had just finished using. You watched in awe as he was immersed in his craft, never missing a beat or his sense of balance as he gave the illusion of having eight limbs. 

“Do you need help with anything?” You asked, standing up from your seat with an empty can of beer in your hands. 

“Oh, no! No, no, NO! Sit back down,” Sungchan demanded, abruptly turning the stove off and shoving you back into your seat. Then, he returned to his cooking, turned the stove on, and tossed some spring onions in a large frying pan. He wore a slim, loose-fitting pair of joggers that hung snugly on his hips and a tight tank top that went just above his abdomen. The light pouring in from the kitchen window gave his figure an almost Promethean outline, making it extensively clear that he frequented the gym or was extremely meticulous about his health. 

“You really didn’t have to put an entire feast together, you know?” 

“What, you’re calling this a feast?” Sungchan joked. “I was too lazy to do any shopping today, if I’m being completely honest with you. I’m just throwing around what I have in the fridge. Besides, it’s a family tradition of ours to treat our guests well. I don’t know what it is, but it’s kind of like we’re born to entertain. It’s like a sickness because it’s not like we’re especially nice, or we love people or anything, but if someone comes over, we have to treat them like the king of the castle.”

“Does that explain the beers in the fridge?” You asked. Sungchan vehemently nodded.

“My stupid father hardly ever drinks because it’s bad for him, but he stocks up on a lot of alcohol to serve guests! So please, drink as much as you want. It would make him happy knowing his stock is going to be of good use.”

“Thank you,” 

You took the daffodils on the table and handed them over to Sungchan, who immediately grabbed a tall, slim glass from one of the cupboards and placed the flowers in it. 

“I’m not much of a flower person, but these are so pretty,” He marveled, doe-eyes gazing over each petal with gentle care. “What are they called again?” 

“Daffodils,”

“Is it the same as narcissus or something?” He asked. You shrugged your shoulders. 

“I’m not the best at the language of flowers, but I think daffodils belong to the same family or is a part of a family of flowers called narcissus,”

“That makes sense then. I once played piano for a classic Korean production in my old school about daffodils.”

He hummed the melody to Narcissus while plating the food. 

Much to your chagrin, Sungchan’s cooking was far better than what you’d expected. A diverse, fantastic assortment of grilled, marinated, fried, boiled, roasted, and cured dishes using mackerel, radishes, seaweed, mushrooms, pork bone, and sesame seeds, all cooked in the intense flavors of the Southern Jeju style.  

“Wow, this is really good,” You said with your mouth full. 

“You didn’t expect my cooking to be good, didn’t you? Based on how I look or something,” 

“Not really, no,”

“You’re from Jeju, right? So you like this kind of flavor profile, don’t you?”

“Did you seriously change your cooking just for me?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course not! We always eat like this!” 

“Are any of your relatives from Jeju?” 

“No, we’re all born and raised in Seoul, as far as I know. There’s not a single person from the South. We’re all from around the area.” 

“I don’t get it,” You continued, heaping more food from your chopsticks into your mouth. “How can you make this super authentic Jeju dish? Were you taught, or did you go to any classes?” 

“It’s kind of a long story,” He replied, taking apart a piece of grilled mackerel. He used the other end of his chopsticks to start deboning a small piece on your plate, feeding it to you once he was finished. 

“My parents never really had the time to cook, and we always had the business to think about, so it was either take out or eat at a restaurant. When we didn’t have money to eat out, we bought ready-made lunches at the convenience store or nearby butchers. Even when I was little, I couldn’t stand the lack of fresh food, and it wasn’t like my mom cared about changing things up. We just kept eating the same, ready-made lunch boxes, and I grew so tired of it that I taught myself how to cook. I went to the big Kyobo in Gwanghwamun and bought the thickest cookbook I could find, mastering it from cover to cover whenever I had the time. The author also turned out to be from Jeju, which explains why much of what I cook is in the Jeju style.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me you taught yourself how to cook? Just you and a book?” 

Sungchan nodded, pride brimming widely in his grin. He took another bite out of the grilled mackerel in front of him, took a large heap of rice, and swallowed the rest with some seaweed soup. 

“It was only until I turned twenty that I had the money to go and eat at a real Jeju-styled restaurant. My dream is to go to Jeju one day and try the real thing there, but I think the restaurant I went to here in Seoul was close enough and helped me understand most of the nuances and flavorings that I needed to master my dishes.” 

“Wow…” You exclaimed, taking a piece of shrimp into your mouth. “I could never have taught myself how to cook. I mean, how do you do it? Especially when you weren’t able to see how it’s done right before your eyes?” 

“It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows,” Sungchan explained, sighing while chewing on a slice of fried eggplant. “Especially when I grew up in a household where nobody gave a single crap about food. I would beg my dad for a better knife or a decent pot, and he’d tell me to spend my money on something else! I mean, the audacity! You can’t possibly debone a fish properly with cheapass knives, and how can you expect me to sous vide meat without an immersion circulator or some vacuum sealers? Every time I’d make these requests, they’d just look at me like I was crazy for trying to sous vide beef at home. It was hopeless trying to tell them that all the money was worth having good food in the house, so I took it upon myself to save as much as I could and buy the equipment with my own money. Little old fifteen-year-old me spending my entire allowance on nicer pots, higher quality knives, strainers, whatever you can think of. Can you imagine? Other boys are buying cleats and nice jerseys of their favorite baseball players while I’m here, spending every buck I can on cooking utensils! Isn’t that nice?” 

You nodded with every word, swallowing a mouthful of bright red soup drenched in gochugaru with tofu and spring onions. 

“I know this sounds a bit disgraceful, but I’m happy my mom died,” Sungchan continued, putting his chopsticks down momentarily to wipe his mouth with his arms. A bright, orange stain smeared his forearm, leaving an outline of his lips where it touched his skin. 

“Why is that?” You asked. Sungchan’s doe eyes widened, staring into your pupils as if communicating his thoughts to you directly. 

“Because now that it’s just me, my brother, and my dad, I get to take control of the family budget. I bought what I wanted, and that meant completing my set of cooking tools. My dad doesn’t know a single thing,” 

“When did your mom die?” 

“When I was seventeen or so, somewhere around my last year of high school. Some nasty tumor did it for her, but it’d probably be distasteful to joke about which one she had on the table. She was bedridden for about four months, was taken home because she seemed better, and then spent the last six months of her life with chemicals injected in her. I already knew that a part of her had died the moment the diagnosis came in, but by the end of it, she wasn’t even a human being anymore. Hardly spoke, looked like a shriveled-up raisin, had no hair, and didn’t even know who me or my brother were. I think that type of death is the worst kind, where both the patient and the entire family go through a different kind of hell. It wasn’t just awful watching my own mother become a vegetable, but it took every Won in our pockets. I mean, every session was 200,000 down the drain, and it wasn’t like the nurses were there for free either, you know what I mean?” 

Sungchan stopped for a moment, mouth agape and hanging in thought. With his chin resting atop his bone-like knuckles, his doe-eyes formed crescents, bright brown turning into a spectrum of hazel under the rays of the seeping sun. 

“How did we get here?” He laughed. 

“I think it started with the budget and how you’re happy your mom died,” 

“Finish your food and think about my little sob story, will you?” Sungchan said, his smile quickly fading into a solemn, thin line. 

After that, Sungchan barely touched his food, prompting you to put your chopsticks down as well. You thought you would ask him to take some of the food home, as it was too good to waste. 

“Cooking makes me less hungry,” Sungchan started, taking a slim, pristine cigarette stick between his lips and lighting it with a match. His eyes wandered until it hit the bouquet of daffodils resting neatly in a tall, slim glass. 

“They look nice like that,” He said. 

“I guess I rescued them from being stepped on at the riverbank,” You replied. 

He chuckled airily, smoking half of his cigarette and dumping the rest in a small, wooden ashtray. Rubbing his eyes, he grabbed the bright red box of Marlboros and fiddled with its corners. 

“Do you smoke?” He asked. You shook your head, gathering the empty bowls and plates before Sungchan stopped you to dump them into the sink himself. 

“I stopped in the summer,” You replied. 

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just hated running out of ‘em in the middle of the night.”

“You make it really obvious whether you like things or not,” Sungchan said. 

“I think that’s why people never really liked me,”

“You show it, that’s why,” He continued, resting his head on the curves of your neck. “You show that you don’t care about people, and that type of attitude makes them angry, especially the ones that think they’re important.”

“But that’s what also makes talking to you so enjoyable,” You felt him grin as his lips touched your neck. You dragged him up and pushed the small of his back towards the sink, helping him dry some of the dishes as he began washing them with an abundance of bubbly dish soap. Standing next to him, you did your best to wipe everything in a spick-and-span state, stacking each plate and utensil carefully on the drying rack. 

“Are your parents out today?” You asked. Sungchan nodded, eyes focused on a stained plate. 

“Well, my mom’s six feet under,”

“You told me that,”

“My brother’s on a date with his fiance, probably on a drive somewhere off the coast nearby. They both love going to the beach, even if the weather is horrid up here.” He then kept his lips pressed in a thin line, gripping the sponge until it oozed with more white bubbles. You did the same and focused on scrubbing the plates with a tea-stained cloth. 

“Then, there’s my dad,” He whispered after some time had gone by. You nodded, eyes still on the plates that were now neatly lined up against each other on the rack. 

“He’s off to Thailand, has been since last spring.”

“Thailand?” You asked in shock, as if to ask him what and why his father was in Thailand out of all places. 

“Didn’t really say much about him, but he’s an eccentric one. A friend of his was in Vietnam during the war and deserted to Thailand, running off with a woman. He now has a farm there, and my dad just got on a plane and told us he was settling there. My brother and I tried to stop him—we told him he couldn’t speak the language, didn’t know a single thing about the customs, and how he wasn’t used to a place like that after being in Seoul his entire life. He didn’t seem to care and wouldn’t listen to a single word we said. I guess losing mom made him go a little bit insane.”

There wasn’t much you could say except stare at Sungchan, mouth agape in bewilderment. 

“Do you wanna know what he said after mom died? He said he would’ve much rather lost us instead of her. I mean, how was I supposed to respond to that? You don’t say such a thing to your kids, you know? For sure, he lost the love of his life, his life partner. I get that it’s a super painful thing to go through, something that makes you sad for the rest of your life, but you don’t tell your own sons that they should have died in her place. That’s just terrible, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah,” 

“Honestly, I don’t think that wound would ever close inside me, even if my dad took it back,” He said while shaking his head. “In some ways, everyone in my family’s odd. We’ve got something strange in us, even if it’s just a little bit.”

“I think I’d react in the same way if my dad said something like that to me,” You replied. 

“But despite the harshness of it all, I still think it’s a wonderful thing for two people to be in love like that, no? I mean, for a man to love his wife so much that he tells his sons they should’ve died in her place, then runs off to Thailand as he dumps the two of us right here in Korea.” 

You wiped the last plate without replying, while Sungchan swiftly put everything back in their respective cabinets. 

“So, have you heard anything from him at all?” You asked. 

“On a postcard sent to us back in the fall. The only thing he tells us is the difference in whether or how the fruits tasted better there. I mean, seriously? Give me a break! One dumb photo of him riding an elephant! He’s lost his goddamn mind! He didn’t even tell us the specifics of how he met the guy—the deserter who owns a farm there or whatever. He didn’t even tell us about sending us there once he’s settled, and he’s ignored our letters to him since.” 

“What would you do if your dad told you to come to Thailand?” 

“I think I’d go and tour a bit of it, I mean, by the sounds of it and the guidebooks I’ve been looking at, it sounds like a nice place to be. My brother, on the other hand, would absolutely refuse. He can’t stand dirty places.” 

“Is Thailand dirty?” 

“I don’t know? Maybe? He thinks it is. Like, the roads are full of elephant shit or something, swarming with flies while the toilet is an entire forest. He saw a documentary of the sort and made that conclusion. He can’t stand flies, either, and all he wants to do is drive through nice beaches in expensive cars.”

“No way…”

“I mean, to hell with him! What’s wrong with Thailand? I’d go for sure!” 

“So who’s running Jung Records while he’s gone?” 

“My brother technically, but he hates it. We have a neighboring aunt who helps around here and there, and I help, too, when I have time. A record shop isn’t exactly the hardest thing to manage, so it’s fine. And if it’s too much, we can always sell the place.” 

“Do you like your dad?” Sungchan stopped for a second, then vehemently shook his head. 

“So how can you go with him to Thailand if you don’t like him?” 

“I believe in him, that much I can do.”

The two of you then went up to the balcony of the building, where he rested his palms on your cheek, caressing it before giving you a chaste, slow kiss. A fire had broken out in one of the buildings nearby, causing smoke to go up as he rushed out to see what was going on. Soon enough, sirens began to wail in the empty, suburban air of Seoul, and he nonchalantly made coffee for you while talking about Thailand. You couldn’t recall its proper location, but you knew it was near Vietnam. 

“The Lee family’s building burned down,” He said. “They traded silverware and porcelain if I could recall correctly, but they went out of business some time ago.” 

You leaned over the railings, head resting on his slow, beating chest. A large apartment unit blocked the view, but you could see flashes of red trucks flowing into the streets, about three or four that were parked nearby, dousing the flames with large pipes. 

“Maybe you should evacuate,” You said to Sungchan. “The wind’s blowing in the other direction, but it could always change its course. You can always stay at my place, and I’ll help you pack whatever you need.” 

“Fuck that,” Sungchan spat happily. “I’m staying here. Ride or die. Even if this place burns down, I’ll be right here. I don’t mind death.” 

He looked straight into your eyes, and you couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. The only thing that you felt was the warmth that his arms exuded as he continued to hold you, long, slender fingers caressing the surface of your skin. 

“Alright, I’ll stay here with you, then,” 

“You’re gonna die with me?” He asked, eyes shining brighter than the radiant sun.

“What? No way! I’ll run if it starts to get here, you can go die alone.” 

“Ouch, that’s cold, you bitch!” 

“I’m not gonna die with you just because you made me lunch. If you added dinner on the itinerary, though, then I might consider it.” 

“Anyway, let’s stay here for a while. We can talk about you now if you’re interesting enough.” 

Sungchan brought two pillows from his bedroom, several bottles of beer, and some snacks from the kitchen. He says they were leftover cookies from the week before, but the dough tasted fresh enough that you inferred he made them in the morning. The two of you drank together and watched the thick, black smoke rise from the building. He asked you more questions about yourself that you couldn’t seem to answer, and you slumped onto his shoulder while he gently played with your loose hair. 

“When my mother died, I didn’t really feel sad or anything,” He started, hands now looping through your scalp, as if searching for something valuable. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I didn’t feel a thing.” 

“Does that make me cold like you?” He asked jokingly. You shook your head, burrowing your face onto the comforts of his chest. 

“I’m sure you had your reasons.” 

“I do, I really do. Things were always complicated in this household, but I always thought that I’d be sad if they died, I mean, they’re my parents, you know? But that didn’t happen. I hardly felt anything when my mom died, and now, I hardly even think of them at all. Sometimes, I dream about it; I see her glaring at me and lecturing me about how ungrateful I am for being happy that she died. But the thing is, I’m not happy at all, I’m just not sad about it. And to tell you the honest truth, I didn’t even cry at all. I cried when my dog died, though, when I was like, five or something.”

The only thing on your mind at the time was how much smoke there was despite the abundance of fire trucks that squeezed into the small boulevard. You couldn’t see any flames spewing out of the area, and it didn’t seem to be spreading anywhere. There was only a column of black smoke that continued to rise into the sky. What could’ve caused it, and why was it burning for such a long time?

“I think if they—my parents—had loved me a bit more, then I would’ve been sadder, you know?” 

“Do you think they didn’t love you enough?” Sungchan tilted his head, leaning over until his forehead touched yours. Then, he gave you a subtle nod. 

“I don’t know, it’s somewhere in between being loved and not being loved, I guess. I mean, I was always so hungry for love, and I always thought about what it felt like to truly be loved, to be fed so much of it that I’d be filled with it inside and out. They never gave that to me. Never. Not once did they pamper me or beg me for something, they’d just push me aside and yell at me, complaining about how much I’d spend on cooking tools. That’s all I’ve ever heard from them. So, I made up my mind. I told myself that I was gonna find someone who would unconditionally love me forever. I was still very young at the time, probably in elementary or so, but I made up my mind and have been searching since,”

“And did you end up finding it?” 

Sungchan watched the rising smoke for a while, pensive in his own thoughts. “I don’t know, I’ve been waiting for so long that I’m looking for the perfect person. That makes it a tough ass search for me.” 

“Waiting for the one?” 

“No, even I know that doesn’t exist. I’m looking for a girl I can be selfish with, like, a girl who will drop everything in a heartbeat just because I said I wanted some cake or something. Then I say I don’t want it anymore and throw it out the window, while she is still there, completely content with the fact that I made her do something for me. That’s what I’m looking for.” 

“I don’t think that has anything to do with love,” You said in utter shock. 

“It does!” He replied, insisting in his odd fantasy as he continued to twirl your hair between his fingers. “You just don’t know it because you’re not a man.” 

“So finding a girl who willingly buys you cake and watches you throw it away is love to a man?” 

“Something like that. And when I throw it out, I want her to apologize to me, telling me that she’s sorry because she should’ve known that I would lose the appetite for cake, and had the intelligence and foresight to refuse my initial request knowing that I would get sick of cake, then go out again to buy me something else, asking me what I would like next.”

“Then?” 

“Then I’d give her all the love she deserves for what she’s done for me.”

“You’re insane.” 

“Well, that’s what love is to me. Not that I think anyone can understand, though.” Sungchan replied, giving his head a little shake. Now, he was lying next to you, eyes twinkling as he held your head into his chest, caressing the small of your back with a soft, gentle touch. 

“I’ve never met a guy who thinks like you,” 

“I get that a lot,” He said, resting his chin on the crown of your head. “But I guess it’s just how I think. Like, I’m honestly just telling you what I believe in. I’ve never really cared or realized that how I think is different from other people. I’m not trying to be different, but whenever I say something that I mean, people just think I’m doing it for attention. When that happens, I just feel so hurt.”

“And you’re letting yourself die in a fire?” 

“No, that’s different from this whole thing! I’m just curious,” 

“About what it feels like to die in a fire?” 

“No, I just really wanted to see what you’d say or something,” He said, resting his forehead against yours again while letting the tip of his nose brush against yours. “But if I’m being completely honest with you, I’m not afraid to die. Like, I’d just be consumed with all the black smoke and lose consciousness in a snap. Just like that. The thought of it doesn’t scare me at all, because it’s not as harsh as the way my mom died. It’s not a long, slow process of pain and suffering. A fire’s quick.” 

Sungchan put a stick of Marlboro between his lips and lit it with another match, watching the black smoke from his lips swirl into the sky. 

“That type of death scares me. The type that slowly eats away at you, taking everything you’ve known and loved until it pulverizes it into a dark abyss. I couldn’t stand something like that.” 

Another hour went by, and the fire was completely put out. The firefighters kept it from spreading out into the neighborhood, and all but one fire truck remained in the streets, whirring its orange siren around the streets, its bright, neon light spinning. Sungchan seemed drained of all the energy left of him, and he barely spoke. 

“Are you tired?” You asked. He shook his head.

“I think I’m just spaced out.” 

He looked deep into your eyes, head slowly tilting until his lips met yours. You felt his tongue slowly swirl into yours, the same sense of hunger and desperation felt between the caverns of your mouth electrifying you to the touch. The slightest rush kept him rigid, but he succumbed to deep relaxation and closed his eyes, hands searching across your back until one rested on your shoulder blades while the other, with a firm grip, felt the curves of your ass. The setting summer sun rested on his cheek, emitting a radiant, otherworldly glow in his trembling lashes. He pulled away as if something told him to stop, and then he held your hands, mouth twitching with difficulty, as if what the two of you did had an element of danger to it. 

“Is there someone you’re seeing right now?” He asked. You nodded. 

“But you’re always free on Sundays, no?” 

“It’s… complicated.” You replied, eyes cast down to your feet. 

And then, the summer had set into early autumn, its breeze casting a cold, lonesome touch to your bare shoulders. You told Sungchan you had to go back home to complete some assignments, asking him to come with you for some tea. He said he needed to stay home in case the phone rang. 

“I’d been here the whole time, waiting for the phone to ring all alone. Sometimes, when I’m like that, it feels like my flesh is rotting by the minute, little by little until I melt into this giant puddle of nothingness. That’s how it feels to be inside all the time, waiting for something that will never come,” 

“I’ll be with you next time,” You said. “As long as you make me lunch again.”

“I’ll start another fire in the neighborhood if it means you’re staying for dessert.” 

Sungchan didn’t come to the econometrics lecture the next day. Instead of eating lunch at the cafeteria or the restaurant, you went straight home from your shift at the library, opting for a light, frozen meal of pasta while you continued reading the daily paper with a cold cup of tea. Then, you stood out of your balcony and watched the glimmering moonlight reflected on the river, flowing with a harshness that you see during high tide. You saw a group of high school girls commuting on bicycles, each with a large sports back nervously balanced on their little baskets as they pedaled as fast as they could. One of them had a stack of CDs from a band you weren’t aware of. A couple was walking near the embankment filled with Zelkova trees, hand in hand as the girl adjusted her scarf to protect her from the cool breeze. Near the bench, there was a group of old men feeding pigeons with stale bread as they talked about inaudible qualms about recent politics. It was, in essence, the usual evening scene by the river, but you sat on your balcony with a newfound attention to detail, seeing the gleam of happiness in everyone’s eyes. Whether they were truly happy or just looked the part was something you couldn’t tell, but they did look happy on this quiet, pleasant autumn evening, and due to that, you felt a sense of loneliness that was new to you, as if you were the only outsider to this picturesque evening. 

Come to think of it, the last scene you could remember being in was with Eunseok and his late girlfriend, playing board games in his room with a wafting feeling of true friendship. His girlfriend had died that night, and ever since, a cold, rigid border was placed between you and the rest of the world. This girl, who you weren’t even that close to, what was her existence to you? There was no adequate answer to such a question. All you knew with absolute certainty was that Eunseok’s girlfriend’s death had robbed you of a crucial part of your adolescence. But what that death meant to you and how it impacted you went far beyond your understanding. 

You sat by your balcony for a long time, watching the people passing through your apartment, hoping, with the same loneliness, that Sungchan would be one of the people passing by. He never appeared, and when the next day came, you woke up early, read the papers, and went to campus early for your accounting lecture.

The next day, you ate a light lunch near the campus library, then used the telephone by the reception to call Sungchan to see if he was alone waiting for another call. You let the machine ring about fifteen times, but no one answered. You tried again in ten-minute intervals with the same outcome. Then, you took the bus back to your apartment, finding a letter written by Eunseok in your mailbox. 

Thank you for your letter, Eunseok wrote. My family forwarded it to me, and it made me really happy. I’ve been making progress, and I’ve gotten to a point where I can write one back to you. 

You quickly took off your jacket and sat at the foot of your bed. You left the windows open when you left, hearing the caws of crows sitting idly by the telephone poles near your building. The cool, autumn breeze swayed your sheer curtains, and you held the four pages from him under the moonlight, studying every word that was addressed to you. The colors around you suddenly gleamed with a spiritual vibrance, painting the dull stillness in your life with life the more you read into his letter. You closed your eyes and spent some time collecting your thoughts before picking up the next paragraph. 

It’s been about four months since I’ve been here, he continued. I thought about you a lot, and the more I did, the more I began to feel that I was unfair to you. I think I should’ve been a better person, seeing the way I treated you was cruel. 

This may not be a normal way of looking at things, though, since boys my age never see things as cruel or unjust. Young boys like me are quite indifferent about these things, and rather than being cruel, they care more about what satisfies them. I think these types of questions are often asked by women like you, but I can’t help but feel that it applies to me now as well. Because questions about satisfaction have become rather difficult for me to navigate now, I find myself asking questions about cruelty, like whether or not things have been a bit too cruel for me or if the world itself is unjustly cruel, to begin with. In any case, I think I was cruel to you, and because of that, I led you on and hurt you. 

In doing so, I’d also led myself on and hurt myself just as deeply as I did to you. I don’t say this as a way to make myself feel better, but because it’s true. If I left a large wound inside you, just know that I’ve also left a wound in me as well. So please, don’t hate me. I’m a flawed person, much more flawed than you’ll ever realize. Which is why I don’t want you to hate me. Because if you were to do that, I would really fall apart. I can’t do you what you can do, letting things pass and waiting idly. I often envied how strong you are, which is probably why I led you on like that. 

I might be looking into things a little too much. The therapy they do here is not anything too over-analytical, but several months of it makes you question things with a certain precision that you can’t find outside in the real world. I can’t tell if this type of analysis is making me see things a lot easier or making it harder for me, but regardless, I feel that I’m getting closer and closer to full recovery than I was before, and people here are telling me that it’s true. This is the first time in a while that I was able to simply sit down and write a letter without biting my fingernails about each word I think about. The one I wrote you about four months ago, before I underwent treatment, was something I had to force out of me (was it a bad read? I don’t know, I don’t remember much of it). This time, though, I’m calm. Very calm. The mountains have been doing wonders for me. It’s clean, it’s quiet from the hustle and the bustle of the city outside, and I’m completely cut off from everything, on a daily schedule of group therapy, personal therapy, and then doing some outdoor activities like hiking and calligraphy to take my mind off things. I think I needed a lot of those to fully function again, and I’ve missed you dearly—missed talking to you, and missed conveying all my thoughts to you, my only person left. I used to dread the feeling of going through my thoughts just to pick out a few things to say, but now, the thought of feeling so much again over one person overwhelms me with so much joy. So now, I’m writing to you. It’s about nine in the evening, and I’ve just had my dinner and my bath. Everything is quiet, and there are no lights outside. I usually see stars out my window, but the clouds make it hard to see. 

People here are different. They talk of stars and constellations because they have nothing else to do, and they also talk about different kinds of birds, flowers, and insects that are in the mountains. When I talk to them, I grow aware of how ignorant I’ve been about the world around me, which is humbling, to say the least. 

There are about forty people in this building, alongside twenty more for in-house staff and doctors. It’s such a vast, wide, open place, so this isn’t big at all. It’s so vast that the place might’ve been empty, filled with nature and quiet living—almost so that you feel that this is how people should’ve truly lived, not in the cramped life of the city or even our small town back in Jeju. I mean, of course, it’s not, but I suppose I get to live this way due to certain conditions. 

In my free time, I do calligraphy with the other patients. I don’t really like moving my body as much as I used to when I was a teenager, and despite the beauty of the mountains, I find that I’m still a bit unwell to hike. Sometimes, the characters start to seem a bit jumbled up in my head whenever I try to paint a word or two, but I don’t know if it’s the medication or if it’s just the state that my mind is in when I’m concentrating on a specific word. Today, I tried “acceptance,” which ended up in a blotted mess. I told my doctor about this, and he told me that this blurriness I’m feeling sometimes is not something to be afraid of. It’s not a deformity or an issue I have to fix, but rather, it was something I had to get used to, that we have to accept these blurry visions that we see. Just like each person carries their own quirks and traits, people have their own little ways of feeling things, even if you think you have to correct them. You can’t force these things or else they go funny. Of course, he didn’t go into much detail and simplified a lot of the details, but I think what he was trying to say reached me. This blurriness might be permanent, and we all come here for some clarity in certain ways. As long as we’re here, we can live our lives without having to spread such blurriness to other people because we know that we are blurry in our existence. That’s what separates us from those that are outside: most people are unaware of things going blurry, while in this small, little mountain villa, it’s a necessity to have that blurriness in us. We are open about it all, and we live in peace and quiet so as to not inflict or spread this pain on each other. 

Calligraphy aside, I also join in growing small crops like tomatoes, cucumbers, and spring onions to make the dishes the chefs serve us. We grow everything ourselves, and the people that are here know a lot about farming. They even read books on cultivation, and we have experts come by to give us talks from morning to night about how to properly harvest and take care of our crops. I’ve grown to love this little part of my life, and it’s been a great happiness of mine to watch what I planted grow into something more, getting bigger and bigger each day. Have you ever grown tomatoes? They sprout flowers and then turn into this small, green bulb just before becoming juicy and bright red. 

The one problem about this place is that it’s so picturesque that you don’t want to leave, or rather, you’re afraid to leave. I feel like I’d lose the peace and calm that I’ve had here if I ever left, and even if I think I’ve recovered, I know that I’ll lose all that once I come out of it all. My doctor has been urging me to talk to other people—normal people in the normal world where you live. When he tells me that, the only person I see is you. I don’t really want to see my aunt or whatever family I have left. They never felt like that to me anyway, and hearing about them puts me in a bad mood. I have many things I want to say to you that cannot be put aside any longer, and I hope that you won’t feel burdened by what I have to say. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone, and I can sense how you feel about me. You make me very happy, and I hope that my happiness about your feelings for me has been conveyed in this letter. It’s what I need in my life. You’re what I need in my life. Please forgive me if I’ve written something that upsets you in this letter. As I’ve mentioned, I’m more flawed than you think I am. 

Sometimes, I wonder. I wonder if I never moved out of our neighborhood, wonder if I never met my girlfriend, if we stayed in the same school and lived our lives together, commuting day to day from our houses to school and back. What would’ve happened? Of course, hindsight is never accurate, but I’m trying my hardest to not be cruel to you anymore. It’s all I can do, and I hope I conveyed at least some of my feelings through this letter. 

This place has free visiting hours, unlike a normal hospital. As long as you make an appointment through the phone, you’re welcome at any time. You can even stay with me in my room. Please come and see me whenever you can. I really miss you. 

Attached to this letter is a map of the place. I’m really sorry if this letter got a bit too long. 

You read Eunseok’s letter through and through, reading it again until the sun rose. After that, you went out onto your balcony, watching the sun rise as you sipped a cup of coffee, ignoring the daily paper to read Eunseok’s letter again. You put the pages of his letter back in an envelope and neatly laid it on top of the dining table. Your name and your address, along with your apartment number, had been written out in perfectly messy handwriting, too messy, in fact, for a man who had been practicing calligraphy for about four months. You sat at your dining table, looking through every crevice of the envelope under the dim glow of the rising sun. The return address on the back was Ujeong Inn. An odd but appropriate name for a sanatorium, especially considering that ujeong means friendship.  Leaving the letter on top of your dining table with a half-empty cup of coffee, you slipped on a loose shirt and went out. You were afraid that if you continued staying within the vicinity of the letter, you would lock yourself in your apartment and read it until you’d memorized its entire contents. You walked across the embankment of the Han River without a single destination in mind, just as you would when Eunseok was still in Seoul. You took many sharp turns, keeping the river within your sight, picturing every word that was written out in his letter while pondering each sentence in your head. When the sun fully rose up, you ran back to your apartment and made a call to Ujeong Inn. The high-pitched, nasally voice of a male receptionist answered and asked what you were calling about. You asked for Eunseok and if you could visit today or tomorrow, leaving your name and your address so the receptionist could call back later. The same man called the phone after thirty minutes. Eunseok was available, he said. You thanked the receptionist and hung up, shoving a few clothes and a copy of Adorno’s Aesthetic Theory in your backpack. Then, you opened the envelope again, reading Eunseok’s letter with a glass of wine, waiting for sleep to seep in. You stayed up until three in the morning, washed your face, and waited again while reading Eunseok’s letter until it was five, leaving your apartment to catch the first train to Gwanaksan.

You took the 5511 bus to get to Gwanaksan before noon, following the instructions that Eunseok put in the envelope after getting off at the Engineering building at Seoul University. Initially, you believed that Eunseok’s facility would be housed under Seoul University’s psychiatric department, but upon realizing it was an independent inn that acted under another medical center that specialized in psychiatric care, you were somewhat relieved. Most university hospitals operate under strict, often rigid conditions, and from hearing about Eunseok’s activities and the freedom he experienced at Ujeong Inn, it was a relief on your end to know that he was in good hands. The trip took a little over an hour, and before you knew it, the ridges and cracks of a great mountain range rose over your tiny little frame, an overwhelming sense of the power of nature striking you stuporous against its vast superiority. The autumn winds, which were calm in the city, seemed to roar and wail with the rustling of dense trees, home to a flora and fauna that was extinct in the asphalt and tar of the city. You began your twenty-minute hike up the inn after stopping by a small bookshop across the road, leaving with a pamphlet that showed specific landmarks around the mountain’s main trail, which was a straightforward, linear path that went uphill to the peak of the mountain range. Along the way, lush, large oak trees lined up the dirt path and the bridges that led to the inn, coupled with a plethora of loons and petrels that added a dash of color to the bright, blue sky. Most of the sun’s light was filtered through the foliage of greeneries, reflecting its pigmented tint in the shadows that cast downward onto the surface of your sneakers. No wonder it was such a quiet place, because the inn itself was basically deep inside the mountains!

A large, mounting metal gate covered the inside of the inn, along with thick oak tree stumps that acted as pillars to the entrance. The fact that the inn was situated in the middle of the forest made it seem like the whole world had been buried under it, lost to the civilization and rush of the busy streets in Seoul. Troughs and hills of mountain ranges continued to stack onto each other, giving you an image of an endless visage of scenic nature that you could never find elsewhere. On the left side of the gate, sparse fields of rice that were turning into a light shade of yellow spread out in all directions, cutting through a pristine, clear river that played with the rays of the sunlight. There were no houses around the area; the only thing you could see was a large sign that read UJEONG INN PRIVATE NO TRESPASSING. 

At the crook of the gate was an empty post made of wood, its once bright yellow paint stripping off to show the bare, splintered ends underneath. The presence of a freshly crushed cigarette in an ashtray, a steaming tea cup, and a silent radio on the desk gave you clues about the guard’s whereabouts, and you gave yourself ten minutes to wait for anyone to come back. Soon enough, a guard dressed in a knockoff security vest slipped into his post and asked for your last name and the patient you were seeing. When you replied with Eunseok, he used the pager strapped onto his breast pocket, lifting the gate with a single button that whirred and disturbed the natural silence of the forest in quick succession. 

Once you were inside, you were greeted with a small car park that had a minibus, a large Range Rover, and two dusty Toyota Corollas near the front door. The car park looked like it could hold around twenty cars at maximum, but for today, it seemed like there were only three vehicles there. 

The actual inn itself resembled an old, Korean-styled house made with rustic, pointed clay laid out in a geometric, square pattern. It had a well-maintained Zen garden with shiny pebbles as floors lining a small footpath with stone lanterns. Your guess about the place was that it was once a country house for Japanese or Korean aristocrats during the occupation period, considering the vast, four-story height that it boasted. There was something simple and sleek about its design, but there was also a slight tackiness in the bright red and green paints that adorned its walls. 

Upon reaching a large, stone gate, you were greeted by a woman in a nurse’s scrub. “Are you here for Eunseok?” 

You nodded, and she smiled while guiding you inside the building to sit on a small, beige sofa. As she left to use the plastic answering machine on the reception desk, you took the straps of your backpack off your shoulders, slumping it right next to you as you surveyed the place. There was an eerie cleanliness to it, an uncanny luster that reflected your face in all the furniture and the items strewn around the lobby. The paintings were minimal in color, sometimes having none at all, showcasing simple shapes on a white background. The floor was polished to perfection, almost as if a shiny, waxy sheen had been above your soles to ensure that you wouldn’t leave any dirt as you walked along, absorbing all the dirt and mud that you accumulated to hide it from the cleanliness of the entire building. 

“He’ll be here soon,” The nurse reassured you with another gleaming smile. You nodded, taking note of the deathly quiet that surrounded you after you finished speaking. There were no sounds of any kind, only a white, static silence that murmured underneath your ear canals. In this building, the people, animals, insects, and every microorganism were all sound asleep, even in what should’ve been a busy afternoon. 

Before long, you heard a pair of weak, rubber soles gliding through the slippery floors, and Eunseok was in front of you in a loose shirt that was buttoned halfway. He sat next to you on the beige sofa, its weight only slightly shifting from the impact. At first, you thought he was a hallucination that you conjured up from the fatigue of traveling all the way up into the mountains, but it was the real Eunseok. 

“Tired?” He whispered. You shook your head and gave him a gentle smile, head still shaking slightly from the apparition that was Eunseok. You wanted to reach out to him, feel his fingers against yours to truly confirm that he was real, but you decided against it. You still didn’t know if he was in a state to hold your hand, let alone be here right next to you to talk to you, but an unwavering calm aura that wafted around him gave you the reassurance that you were at least allowed to converse with him once more. 

“How have you been, Eunseok?” 

“Good,” He replied with a little, ghostly smile. “I’m sorry, but I’m not supposed to be here right now. I’m supposed to be back in one of the recreational rooms to do some calligraphy. I just slipped out for a minute, and I have to go back right away, so I’m sorry if I look like a mess right now.”

“Not at all,” You said, doing your best to reassure him with a gentler, softer tone. “I think I like your clean cut.” 

Eunseok’s hair was perfectly trimmed to ensure none of his strands reached the collar of his shift, bangs pristinely sliced just above the edge of his eyebrows. It suited his face very well, framing his angular features and accentuating the roundness of his eyes. He looked as if he had always worn his hair that way, a handsome rendition of an aristocratic schoolboy during the height of the occupation period. 

“I had one of the nurses cut it for me, but do you really think it looks nice?” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“My aunt said it’s too… childish.” He ruffled his hair and let some of the strands topple over each other, creating a mop of disheveled, black hair that was tousled meekly. 

“I wanted to see you just as you came here, not that I had anything urgent to say, but I just wanted to see your face and get used to having you around. If not, then I might have some trouble getting to know you again, even if we’ve practically known each other since birth. I’m just so bad with people, and I think the desolate nature of the mountains made it worse for me. I can hardly recall my aunt’s face now, and I don’t even know what my parents look like anymore,” 

“Well, do you think the treatment’s doing you any good?” 

“I think so, yeah,” He replied, fiddling with his hair again. “But I have to go.” 

You saw him off to the recreational room, and before he slid the door open, he took your hands in his, studying each crevice and line in your palm with his slender fingers. 

“I really wanna thank you for coming all the way here to see me. This makes me very happy, but I don’t want you to feel like I forced you to come here. The last thing I wanna be is a burden, and this is a special place far removed from what you’re used to. If you feel uncomfortable or lost in here, please tell me and be honest about it. I won’t be hurt by it at all. In this place, we can be completely honest with each other.” 

“Of course, I’ll be honest,” You said with certainty. 

Eunseok’s hands trembled as he gently took your shoulder, pushing the small of your back in his direction until your head was leaning on his chest. When you circled your arms around his back, he took his chin and softly placed it on the crown of your head, staying like that for a time and absorbing your body’s temperature into his cold touch. Holding him made you feel warm in your chest, and he suddenly stood up without saying a word, disappearing into the recreation room as quietly as he had come down to the reception desk. 

With Eunseok gone, you went back to the reception and took a nap on the sofa. You didn’t intend to, but you fell into a deep sleep that you hadn’t been able to experience in a long time, filled with a sense of Eunseok’s presence. In an instant, you were transported back into the small comforts of his apartment, in the bathroom where his toothbrush and toiletries were, with the library of books that were on his shelf, and in his sparsely decorated bedroom, lying next to him in his bed. Sleeping soundly in his apartment, you felt the fatigue from your body disappear bit by bit, dreaming of an albatross flying in the distance, in the dim glow of the summer sunset in Jeju. 

When you woke up, the clock on top of the reception desk points at six in the evening.

The lights had changed into a dim, yellow glow, the wind had died into a silent stillness sans the ruffling of tree leaves, and the shape of the clouds was distorted into lines and streaks that symmetrically bordered the moonlight. You wiped off the sweat on your forehead with the hem of your shirt, quickly changing into a long-sleeved sweater in the absence of people. You went into the kitchen by following the signs, getting a paper cup, and filling it to the brim with water while watching the night sky fade into a dark abyss in the absence of light in the forest. There was no sign of anyone around, and no sound penetrated the thick walls of silence that surrounded the entire building. It felt as though you were isolated in a void. 

“Hey, sorry for being gone for a while,” Eunseok’s voice was barely a whisper, and it startled you to the point where you dropped your cup. He tried to pick it up, but you swiftly bent down in a panic, using a crumpled pile of paper towels to soak up the remaining water that spilled out of your cup. Your copy of Adorno’s Aesthetic Theory slipped out of your backpack’s front pocket, and he picked it up to hand it back to you. 

“How could you bring such a book in a place like this?” He joked. He was right, of course; all you could do was shrug. 

“I don’t know, it reminded me of the sort of books you would read back when you were in Dongguk.” 

To this, he chuckled—the first you’ve heard in a long time. Almost so that it shocked you to the spine, giving you an electrifying tingle every time you heard a tingle or a shift of pitch in his voice. He took your hand and dragged you to a large dining hall on the main floor, passing you a tray filled with lush, green salads, boiled vegetables, rice, and seaweed soup. 

“I’m sorry, did you want something else?” He asked. “There’s some pasta, and you can always go eat outside if you wanna go for a smoke,” 

“I’m alright, Eunseok, I quit in June.” You replied with a small, soft smile. His eyes widened with an unreadable expression. Then, he pressed his lips in a firm, thin line, averting his gaze back to his tray of food. 

Twenty other people entered the dining hall, while a handful began to pack their trays and left. Apart from the variety of ages, you pictured Sungchan’s private all-boys school in the dining hall, filled with men in hospital gowns instead of uniforms and speaking in a much lower volume than a large room of electric adolescent boys. There were no loud voices or whispers, nor was there anyone laughing out loud or crying. There was no yelling, and the only type of conversation that was present in the room was hushed and serene, with people either nodding to each other or softly humming with interest. You couldn’t tell what anyone was saying, but the way they spoke reminded you of the secret conversations you would see among girls in your time at the dormitory in your first year, confiding deep, dark secrets in the form of low whispers. You wondered if Eunseok spoke like this with the people he did calligraphy with, and you felt a twinge of loneliness mixed with jealousy at the proximity that the people here had with Eunseok. 

Two doctors sat behind your table with Eunseok, one a sheepish, nervous balding man with glasses in a white, neatly-pressed lab coat and the other a much younger-looking man with slightly greying hair, donned in bright blue scrubs and a surgical mask resting on his chin. The two were immersed in a battle of nodding at each other, with the occasional ah and oh really thrown back and forth. You listened to the way they spoke, and the more you allowed yourself to be a part of their conversation, the more it became apparent to you that the bald man was a doctor and the younger man was on his last leg of residency. 

Nobody in the dining hall paid any special attention to you, nor did they realize you existed at all, almost as if your being there was a natural part of their daily lives in the mountains. It was either that, or the sheer vastness of the nature around them that made people seem almost insignificant—small and irrelevant. 

Just then, the balding man in a white lab coat was now behind you, tapping you on your shoulder. 

“How long are you here for?” He asked. 

“Only two nights,” You replied firmly. “I’ll be leaving via the first bus in the morning on Sunday.”

“Well, if you ever come back, then do so in the winter. It’s really nice here in the autumn, but the snow caps on the mountian ranges adds an even nicer touch to the scenery.”

“I’ll probably be out of here by then,” Eunseok interjected with a forceful, yet gentle smile. 

“But still, the winter makes the place really nice.” He repeated. You weren’t too sure if he was a doctor anymore. 

Once the bald man left with the younger man in scrubs, you turned your attention back to Eunseok, who finished what was on his tray. His slender fingers trembled as he fidgeted with an empty bowl, unease written all over his face. 

“What do you talk about up here?” You asked. Eunseok hummed, pondering your question as if it was a bizarre one to ask. 

“What do you mean? We just talk about normal things like our daily routine, the books we’ve read, tomorrow’s plans, stuff like that. Don’t tell me you think people here talk about crazy things while jumping up and down with an imaginary marching band!” 

“No, no, that’s not what I mean,” You replied hastily, but Eunseok didn’t seem to stare at you the way he did whenever you felt you said something gravely wrong. Instead, he folded his arms and smiled at you, leaning his back on the plastic railings of the chair. 

“If you’re thinking about the noise level, then it’s just what it is. People talk quiet here, and there’s no need for you to talk so loud or draw any attention to yourself.” 

“I guess not,”

You took Eunseok’s tray and stacked his empty plates with yours, clearing the table as he dabbed his mouth with a folded handkerchief. When you put the trays back to a small window into the chef’s kitchen, you found yourself surprised by how much you’ve missed the low hums of people or the white noise that buzzed in one ear and out throughout your daily life. You wanted to hear boisterous laughter and people screaming for no reason, saying ridiculous things that only made sense after a few bottles of beer. Sure, it was the kind of environment you lived in since moving out of Jeju for university, but sitting with Eunseok in an eerily quiet dining hall made you uneasy and anxious. You couldn’t relax, and the more people began to leave the dining hall, the more you likened the experience to that of an empty art exhibit, where the people eating were caricatures of what an alien species thought human life was like. 

Instead of going back to the guest room in the left wing of the inn, Eunseok insisted that you stay in his room while he finished his bath, which was located in the opposite side of the guest rooms. He had his own shower in his room, but he insisted that you use his. 

“The thing is, most of the patients here are men, and I’m not too sure about using the staff bathroom since I don’t know where it is.” He explained, before making the trek to the other side of the room with his toiletries. 

After he was gone, you decided to play the first record that was on his shelf, unaware that it was his own copy of the Johnny Cash album that he gave you for Christmas—the very same one that he cried to on his birthday. To think that it had only been six months since you celebrated Eunseok’s birthday and slept with him was a puzzling realization. It felt more remote than it was. 

Maybe it was because you thought about it too much, distorting your sense of time and rearranging the timeline of memories in your head. 

The moonlight’s low beam was fluorescent enough for Eunseok’s room, leading you to turn his lamp off, legs streteched below his study desk as you immersed yourself into Johnny Cash’s voice. Shadows danced around the white walls of Eunseok’s room, playing with the items that were on his table and turning them into random blotted patterns across the room like a Rorscharch test. Taking a shiny metal flask from your backpack, you allowed the taste of warm wine to sit on your tongue, swirling it around and letting the warmth spread throughout your body. After a few sips, you slipped the flask back into your backpack, body slightly swaying with the shadows that continued to dance in Eunseok’s room. 

“It’s so dark here,” Eunseok suddenly murmured. Instead of standing up to greet him, your arms and legs felt heavier than usual, sticking like glue to the edge of his wooden seat. His light, wispy chuckles echoed back and forth between your eardrums in a trance-like reverie, making it harder for you to believe that Eunseok’s presence was indeed, real. 

“I wanted to turn the lights off because I haven’t seen such a bright, full moon in a long time,” You explained, feeling the apples of your cheeks for more warmth. 

Eunseok brought a large, white candle from the kitchen, striking a match to light the wick. Its bright, orange glow swayed with the shadows that it illuminated, further distorting the lamp and books strewn around Eunseok’s room. As the two of you sat facing each other and the candle amidst the disquiet silence of the mountain, it slowly began to feel like the candle transported you and Eunseok to the edge of the world, far, far away from anything that could disturb you. Eunseok shifted closer until his arms touched yours, causing you to flinch. 

“You smell like wine,” He laughed, resting his head on the crook of your shoulder. 

“I still have some in my flask if you’re allowed to drink in here,” You replied with a blase hint of surprise.

“We’re obviously not allowed to drink in here, but it’s fine. If the nurses and doctors can smoke, then we can also break the rules, no?” 

“Right,” 

“I even have drinking parties sometimes with the guy next door,” Eunseok murmured shyly, concealing a hint of mischief in his tone. 

You took the flask out of your backpack again and handed it to Eunseok, who slowly took the cap off and placed the opening of the flask between his lips. When the record ended, he took the flask in front of your eyes and shook it, signaling its emptiness. You took the flask back into your backpack, and Eunseok began humming the tune of a nursery rhyme that was all too familiar to you. 

“I still think Johnny Cash’s version is the best one,” you remembered him saying at fourteen, messing up the English lyrics to “My Grandfather’s Clock” so badly that it came out in a jumbled mess. A year later, when he turned fifteen, his voice was a little too deep to reach the higher parts of the song. Since then, he opted to hum it every now and then, leaving a distant performance of intimate warmth blended with a sorrowful loneliness that could only be heard in the timbers of his voice. 

He hummed the song again, closing his eyes as he buried his face closer to your neck. Eyes on the candle, feeling the wine circulate across your veins, listening to Eunseok’s peaceful humming, you felt all the tension inside you slip away. When he finished the song, a sheer silence engulfed the two of you in the stillness of the moonlight. 

“I don’t know why, but for a nursery rhyme, the song always makes me feel so sad,” said Eunseok. “I think it’s because I can see a giant, tall, old clock, just me and the thing in a vast, empty room with nobody else.” 

Eunseok, as per the letter he sent you, did look a lot healthier than before. Instead of the ghastly pallor that you were used to, his skin was kissed with the sun’s golden glow, his body firm and rigid with oozing vigor from all the exercise and farming he does in the inn. His eyes still contained the same, deep pools that always put you in a reverie, and his plump, luscious lips still trembled with hesitance, but there was an overall change in him that evolved him into a mature man. The sharp, thin edge of his jaw had disappeared into a more inviting, soothing calm. You couldn’t put a finger on how you felt about this newfound view of Eunseok, but it moved you to think that someone could change so much in just under half a year. You felt even more drawn to him than ever before, and never again would he have the brooding mystique of his former self, one that set him apart from the rest of the pack wherever he went. 

Eunseok had asked you about how you spent the last six months, demanding every detail of your life since she was institutionalized. You discussed your political activities in detail with Mirae, and how the riots have subsided since the June 29 declaration. While Mirae was a recurring topic of conversation between the two of you, you never told Eunseok about Mirae’s involvement with the New Korean Democratic Party or the underground Marxist lectures. To him, Mirae was simply an eccentric roommate notorious for sleeping around with as many guys as she could. Explaining this new side of Mirae to Eunseok proved difficult, especially with the complicated nature of her unique philosophy and what she believed in. Despite it all, the way you wanted to describe Mirae seemed to reach Eunseok, and you hid any mention of Sungchan from him. 

“Wow, I didn’t know Mirae was a staunch Marxist,” Eunseok cooed. “Do you still like her after all that?” 

“I don’t know,” You replied. “I don’t think I do, and Mirae is beyond liking or not liking. She doesn’t try to be liked or unliked, and I guess her honesty drew me in, but I wouldn’t say I like her.” 

“Honest while sleeping with all those men? You’re weird for that,” Eunseok said, stifling a loud chuckle. “How many boys has she slept with?” 

“God, I don’t know. I haven’t been getting updates from her lately, but last I’ve heard, she’s nearing one hundred.” 

“And you call that honest? Is she being honest with those other men?” 

“Yeah, for her, it’s sort of like the increasing number makes the crime less meaningful in some ways. Like, if she told a guy from the get-go that she was sleeping with other people, then to her, that nullifies whatever personal attachment that she might’ve had with the man she was sleeping with.” 

“I think she’s a lot more flawed than me,” Eunseok murmured after thinking about your description of Mirae. 

“I think so, too,” You replied with a nod. “But she’s the type of person way too logical for her own good. If you brought her here, I don’t think she’d last a day. She’d crack the code, tell the doctors she knew what they were doing, then leave after lecturing them on how she already understood her flaws and how to fix them. People don’t like her, but people definitely respect her in some way or another.” 

“I guess I’m the opposite of her, then,” Eunseok said. “I still don’t understand what they’re trying to do to me here, which makes me think that I don’t understand anything about myself.”

“It’s not because you’re not logical or clever.” You explained, grazing your fingers on his tanned arms. “I think you’re quite normal, and even I have things that I don’t understand about myself. I think everyone does to a certain extent, and that’s what makes us normal.” 

Eunseok rested his head on your lap, the same pearly eyes staring straight into yours. His thumb grazed the edge of your lips, but instead of leaning forward, he remained still, head firmly pressed on your thighs. 

“You’re the first person I’ve ever slept with,” He whispered, watching you with clear eyes. You kept your lips pressed firmly, rigid in your seated position. Sweaty palms seeped through the carpeted floor, becoming one with its acrylic fibers. 

“I was ready to sleep with her, I really was.” Eunseok started, fiddling with the ends of your hair, making your body slowly lean closer to him. “We wanted each other, that much was real. We tried everything we could—lube, moisturizer, oils—but it never worked. I don’t know if she was afraid of losing her virginity, but I wasn’t. Even then, I couldn’t get hard, and she couldn’t get wet.” 

You were now lying next to Eunseok on his bedroom floor, a flash of his room back in Jeju fusing with visions of his apartment in Seoul scattering through the white walls around you. 

“It always hurt me because she was always dry, and of course, because I couldn’t get hard, there was simply no way I could get inside her. We tried masturbating; she would jack me off, and I would use my fingers to play with her, but even that started to hurt, so we stopped.”

You nodded in silence. Eunseok cast his gaze at the moon, which started to look bigger and bigger between the shiny luster of his pearlescent eyes. 

“I never wanted to tell you this, but I came here to be honest. That night on my birthday, I was rock hard when you walked into my apartment. I’d been getting hard every time I saw you. I just wanted to hold you in my arms, take off our clothes, touch you all over, and fuck you then and there. I’ve never felt that way before, and I guess it confused me because I loved her so much.” 

“And not me, right?” You said, trying to hide the bitterness and pain in your throat. “You want to know why you were so turned on by me even though you didn’t love me like that, right?” 

“I’m sorry,” Eunseok repeated. “I know we’ve been friends for a long time, but she and I had a special bond, almost as if we were conjoined to the hip at birth. It was like we couldn't let each other go when I moved out of town and into her neighborhood. We were always together, and we understood each other perfectly. When we kissed, I knew we were connected somehow, maybe through an invisible string or a spiritual destiny. She ran to me and cried like a baby when she had her first period, and she was the first person I talked to when I had my first wet dream. After she died, I didn’t know how else I could’ve been able to relate to other people—including you, and I’ve known you longer than I’ve ever known her. I didn’t know how to love another person the way I loved her.” 

Eunseok remained silent for a while, then suddenly burst into tears, trembling in spasmodic tremors. He buried his face under your chest, gripping your waist tight as his hot breath tickled your abdomen, sporting the same suffocating violence that he had brought with him on the night of his birthday. You caressed his back, smoothing the loose wrinkles of his shirt as he clung to you like a baby. For what felt like a few hours, you held Eunseok in your arms, soothing his back every now and then whenever he would wail or hurl, his cries piercing your heart in palpable agony. His candle was now extinguished, and the moonlight was covered with thick, dark clouds condensed in the deepest shade of navy. The night was chilly with silence, slicing through the air with a whir of disquiet that spoke louder than Eunseok’s cries. The mountains were so quiet that they seemed to drown out any noise that stirred its way, the winds flowing from the curtains swaying all sense of sound back to its earthen ridges, to be absorbed in the soil as nature hurls back in a stupefied haze. Eunseok slowly climbed up, tugging at your shirt before planting a soft kiss beneath your ear amidst sniffles. 

“Sorry,” his voice barely a whisper. “Sometimes, I get so confused that I don’t know what’s happening.” 

“I’ve been getting that a lot recently, too,” You replied, returning the gesture by grazing your lips on his cheek. You felt his lips curve into a small smile, and then he placed his palms on your temple, attempting to massage whatever fear and anxieties you had. He gently twisted his hands into yours, intertwining his fingers in the webbed crevices of your palms. Then, he softly tugged at your arm, leading you to his bed, where his entire body lay languid, clinging to your side.

“I’d like to hear more about your life here. What you do, who you meet, everything. Of course, if you’re not tired.” You asked. 

Eunseok smiled and began talking about his daily routine in the inn, speaking in short phrases that were crystal clear. Wake up at six. Feed the cats before breakfast. Go to the cafeteria and eat. Clean out the hallways. Water and tend to the crops grown in the garden. Trim the garden’s bushes. Pick some ready vegetables. Before his lunch, he would have an hour and a half with his doctor. In the afternoon, he spent most of his time reading or doing calligraphy as a group activity. Sometimes, he would dabble in cooking classes. 

“I started playing the piano again,” he said. “There’s a music teacher that comes from Seoul University every week, and sometimes, we all take turns as teachers or students depending on our expertise. I don't have any, but I teach literature to some patients when I can. Some of the patients who specialize in a language like French or English step in to teach for an hour or so, and I’ve picked up some techniques on how to knit, so if you could bring the scarf that I gave you last Christmas, I can adjust it so it won’t be too big for you.” 

“That sounds fun!” You exclaimed in a whisper. 

“What do you think you’d teach if you were here?” He asked. You pondered at the thought, realizing that economics wasn’t necessarily the most therapeutic topic to teach at a place like Ujeong Inn. Ujeong was home to those who wanted to be tethered from the real world, and something like economics was too tied to real events that broke the facade of a peaceful commune—a society of its own that didn’t need to worry about money or value. 

“Honestly, I don’t know. I think I have nothing to offer,” you finally replied. 

“I’ve been putting a lot more effort into studying here than I ever did when I was a student at university. I work really hard to understand new concepts and even complete whatever homework I get on time. It’s nice, and I’ve grown to enjoy it.” 

“So, what do you do after dinner?” 

“Read books, talk with some of the patients, go to their rooms, and play board games. I also go to the music room and play piano, and at night, I like to sit down and work on my autobiography,”

“Autobiography?” 

“No, I’m just kidding. We sleep at ten sharp. It’s a pretty healthy lifestyle, no?” He laughed. You stared at the small, analog clock on top of Eunseok’s desk. It was a few minutes before nine-thirty. 

“Isn’t your bedtime coming soon?” 

“We can stay up late today. I haven’t seen you in so long, you know? I wanna talk more, so please, talk.” 

“Sometimes, when I’m all alone, I think about the old days,” you explained. “When it was the three of us in your room. Do you remember when I had your girlfriend struggling to ride the back of my bike to visit you at the hospital near the sea? I know we pretty much live right next to it, but that one was right next to the shores.” 

“Yes! It was for my appendicitis surgery!” Eunseok recalled with a smile. “I saw you struggle to pedal through my window, and you brought me cake, but it was all smushed up! It was practically inedible, but I tried to smash it up even more like baby food and swallowed it all up! God, that seemed like such a long time ago,” 

“I think you were trying to write a novel then. Your desk was filled with loose-leaf paper, pretty much scattered across the room!” 

“I like to think that there’s a time in a boy’s life where all he does is write and think,” Eunseok nervously uttered. “What made you think of that all of a sudden?” 

“I guess I just miss the smell of the sea a lot. This year, it rained a lot more in the autumn, and for some reason, I can just smell the salt of the sea every time it rains. Before I knew it, I would spend my mornings thinking about that specific hospital visit. Did she ever visit you afterward?” 

“Absolutely not! We had a huge fight after the two of you visited, and that was it. She never showed her face in the hospital again. Terrible! Something about hating hospitals did it to her.” Eunseok laughed. “She was always a kid about it. Nobody likes hospitals, but you swallow that feeling if it means making the one that’s actually stuck there feel better. I don’t know, she just didn’t get it.” 

“But she wasn’t so bad when she was with me.”

“It’s because you were there,” he said, a growing edge to his timbre. “I know it may seem like the two of you weren’t that close, but she was very fond of you. When it was just me, she struggled to keep her weak side hidden. Something to do with your presence made her hide that side of her very well. With me, her mood switches with a simple snap of a finger. She let her guard down in front of me a lot, and she could go from talking about the weather to throwing a long, screaming tantrum. It happens all the time, and has been happening since we met. She did try her best to change, though.” 

Eunseok readjusted his position, lifting his head from the crown of your head to face you. His arms went loose around your waist, and his palms were no longer firmly pressed on your back. 

“She tried hard, but it was no good for her at all. It’s like the more she tried, the angrier and moodier she’d get. She was already a beautiful person, but she never found the confidence to realize that. It was always ‘I need to change, and I need to change fast,’ always thinking about how to better herself every single second. How awful!” 

“I don’t think I’m the best judge of that, but now that I think of it, she did always show her best side when I was around. Whenever I’d come visit your room, she was always smiling, doing her very best to join and play the board games you’d pick out. She wasn’t a sore loser at all, either, and took punishments with grace.” 

Eunseok’s smile grew brighter, eyes crinkling between his lids and his cheeks. “She’d be thrilled to hear that, you know? Even if she never made it obvious, you were her only friend—apart from me, of course.” 

“And both of you were my only friends,” you replied. “I don’t think I can call anyone that now.” 

“That’s why things felt so right when the three of us were together. I was with you, and I could see her best. Whenever you’re around, I can stop worrying about her and relax, see her have fun like a teenage girl. Our board game sessions were my favorite moments in life. I don’t know about you, though.” 

“If I’m being honest, I was restless. I could never tell what she was thinking, and I was always worried if she didn’t want me there or anything. Something about being a third wheel and making things more awkward, I guess.” 

“Well, to me and her, it was the perfect circle. So perfect, in fact, that we knew it was never going to last forever.” 

He sat up, back resting against the bedframe. There was a shadow cast over his eyes from his bangs, which hung loosely on top of his brows. The moonlight illuminated his cheeks in a way that showed its hidden sorrows, dyeing him in blue hues as he put his thumbs together, circling them back and forth. He started, then stopped, his breath falling short whenever he opened his mouth. Then, he looked at you with a sad smile, eyes filled with an ocean of sorrow wallowing within the single tear that rolled down his cheek. 

“Sorry, can we talk about something cheerful now?”

Having moved out of your dorm in first year, nothing you could talk about was cheerful anymore. Peanut was most certainly out of your life, and Mirae had gone from an odd roommate with a penchant for sleeping around into a tour de force of complex, contradicting ideals. The best you could do now was talk about the people you would observe through the balcony that you and Eunseok used to share by the Han River: the group of old men who would feed pigeons and talk about their life, the joggers who brought dogs without leashes to run across the embankment with them, the vibrant high schoolers in bicycles who did tricks with tennis rackets strapped on their backs, and the plethora of oddballs you’d see at night, drunkenly singing hymns from a bygone era. To you, they were nothing but a routine, but the little tidbits of life you encountered made Eunseok smile. To think that he once shared such realities that were now foreign and new to him baffled you. After that, Eunseok attempted to impersonate some of the patients he encountered at the inn. Then, a giant yawn preceded his collapse into a deep, peaceful slumber.

The room continued to glow white from the moonlight, illuminating its rich, heavenly light on Eunseok’s face. Whenever you closed your eyes, you could still hear the faint echo of Eunseok’s low hum, the tune to “My Grandfather’s Clock” faintly leaving your eyes, lingering with a slight reverberation until it completely disappeared into the empty silence of the dark night. That night, when sleep finally carried you in Eunseok’s arms, you dreamed of the sea. It wasn’t the same one in Jeju, with its calm, gentle waves, the smell of brine and wet sand wafting through your nose, and dark skies that swirled into a misty pastiche of white, ocean waves. The breeze that the waves carried was cold to the touch, wrapping its layers of chills around you in a shrill, almost lifeless temperature that made you taste what death would’ve felt like. No matter how much the winds howled and the waves crashed, though, the sea itself remained calm. Why was that? Your ears could hear the roars of crashing waves immolating into a cacophony of distant cries, and yet the sea was flat like a river, calmly carrying its waters back to shore. You tried to throw a stone, and it only skipped three times before sinking into the deep end, bouncing back to the sand where your feet were. 

When you opened your eyes, you felt as if you were still within the world of your dreams, Eunseok’s room drowning in the calm waves of the sea. The dark skies trembled with the wavering shadows cast by the bright moonlight, and on reflex, you stirred up and got out of bed, searching for the stone that you had just thrown into the ocean. What you saw instead was an image of Eunseok, who was also awake, sitting out the windowsill. He had drawn his knees up to his chin, shoulders relaxed in a hunched state. Judging from the glow of the moon and the color of the skies, you assumed it was about dawn, perhaps four in the morning. A violent thirst clutched your throat, but you remained still and watched Eunseok by the window. He wore the same, blue pajamas that he wore before the two of you went to bed, and his hair was held in place by a small, glowing hairpin, reflecting the glow of the moonlight with his forehead. 

Eunseok stayed frozen in place, his pearlescent eyes directly staring at the moonlight. In his hunched state, he looked like a vulnerable prey hiding from a formidable monster in the sea. The outline of his nose and lips were accentuated with the shadowplay of the moon, forming a fragile, yet crystal clear imagination of his dreamy features, almost pulsating with the gentle beat of his heart. His lips pursed open, as if he were murmuring his deepest secrets to the night. The hungry thirst you felt was drying up your throat, but in the stillness of the night, every single noise you made was bound to reach his ears. A single sigh was all it took for him to quickly spin his head towards you, feet gliding back to the bed as his large, pearly eyes were fixated on you. You stared back at him, but there was a ghastly transparency in his eyes revealing a portal to another world, and the more you peered into him, the more you began to realize that the portal led you into an empty husk of nothingness. Your figure was no longer reflected in his pupils; he was light years away from you. 

When you reached out to touch him, he trembled, quickly running away and disappearing into the shadows. Then, he was on top of you, all seven buttons on his blue pajama top unbuttoned, revealing a lanky, tanned chest bathing in the soft light of the moon. His body had the heartbreaking shine of newborn flesh, the shadowplay revealing all the details of his skin in perfect clarity; the curves of his nipples; the hollow lines of his collar bones; the depth and pulsating muscles of his arms; the soft indent of his navel; his protruding hip bones; shapes which keep morphing with the light and shadows that danced on the surface of his body. He was simply nothing like the body that you held when he cried with agony that night, all imperfections no longer marring his flesh. He was beautiful, of course, but there was a fragile rigidity that clamped him shut, making the act of holding him alone awkward. Even if all you were doing with him that night was joining your body with his, there was an inkling of thought that consumed you. For no matter how much you had him inside you, Eunseok could have never shared his imperfections with you. The only thing you could’ve done was hold him tightly, feel what he truly felt inside you, letting all of his sorrow and heartbreak out into your caverns. 

Eunseok’s body before you was different; reborn through the many phases of the moon. All sense of boyishness had been stripped away since his girlfriend’s death, replaced by the metamorphosis of a mature man. There was nothing sexual about it, and you could only stare in astonishment at the perfection of each detail that he showed you—a spectacle of raw authenticity. He stripped his pajama pants down, exposing his naked truth. Then, he disappeared once more, this time out the door, leaving it swinging ajar. 

You stayed sitting upright on the bed for what felt like a very long time, until it occurred to you that you had to leave. You took your jeans on the floor and hastily buckled them to your hips, silently rushing to the kitchen in the main hall for a glass of water. You took the time to stretch your amrs and legs, letting the tension of your dream go while you thought of the vivid richness of what you saw. You went back to bed and found Eunseok sleeping soundly, careful not to stir anything. Sleep never came until dawn gave you a taste of the first orange luster of sunlight, letting all the shadows from the moon disappear all at once.

“Good morning,” You felt a cold hand touch your cheek. 

“Good morning.” You replied. Eunseok had to hold your hand and support your weight all the way down to the dining hall. Your eyes never met his, and you tried your best to feel the touch of his skin, comparing it with what you saw that night. 

“How did you sleep?” He asked.

“Alright, I guess,” you said. He tilted his head in concern, hesitating before rushing to the start the kettle. Next to him was a large box filled with teabags and instant coffee pouches. “Your eyes are red, though, did you not get any sleep at all?” 

“I woke up in the middle of the night,

“Oh no, is it because of me? Did I snore?” Eunseok asked with concern. 

“No, not really, I just had a weird dream about you. Something about us on the beach back in Jeju, this time as adults.” You lied with a smile. At first, you thought that Eunseok had caught on, acting embarrassed about revealing his body to you, and then, you realized that the transparency you saw was gone, your silhouette hazily etched into his irises. 

“What was it about?” 

“I don’t know, just us walking down the beach as usual when we were children,” 

“Did anything happen after that?

You shook your head, letting the discomfort of the dining hall’s plastic chair ground you to the earth. Eunseok brought a tray of toasted bread, butter, and a salad, and you couldn’t bring yourself to touch your food. 

“We should go back to Jeju together sometime, when we’re both not like this,” Eunseok said hastily, as if he was in a rush. 

“I think we should,” you replied, not knowing what to say. There was a slight hesitance upon Eunseok bringing Jeju and the past up a lot more than he did before, but you supposed Ujeong was a place where he had to confront all of that—even if it hurt him in the process. 

“I know it isn’t much, but would you like to go to a picnic with me? There are no seas out here or anything, but it might make us remember a time when everything was alright, you know, when we were both just kids growing up in Jeju,” He asked almost pleadingly. 

“I’d love that,” you replied with a smile. 

“I have to tell the superiors that I want to cancel my schedule for you, though, is that alright?”

“Of course, take as much time as you need,”

After breakfast, Eunseok took you to a room on the other side of the building. It was a spacious enclave with scratching posts on every corner, scattered around with many cat toys that had vibrant colors of feathers on them. Two men who looked a little bit older than Eunseok were already present, feeding the cats and playing with them. One of them was rolling on the floor while a large, tabby cat had tangled its claws in his hair. Eunseok muttered a small good morning to the pair, and they returned the greeting with glee. The windows were large, encompassing the entire room as the curtains were drawn to reveal the back garden, which was well-manicured with a varying flora of flowers. Spotting Eunseok, a slim, black cat began to strut towards him, rubbing its head on his ankles. He crouched down and gently patted the cat’s head, watching it roll over to reveal its pale underbelly with low purrs. 

“Do you do this every morning?” You asked Eunseok. 

“Yep, the facility says petting cats or any animal is good for you, so they try to make it the first thing we think of when we wake up,” he explained, scratching the cat on the bottom of its chin.  “I don’t know why, but the entire inn has a fondness for cats. I was indifferent to them before I came here, but I see why they’re so loveable now. They’re not like dogs who demand love, they just come to you when they know they can get love.”

After quickly telling the cat to go away, he went to one of four litter boxes and scooped up its droppings, shoveling them into a large, plastic bin nearby. He then replaced the litter box with new, clean cat litter, his task quickly disrupted by a beige white berman with deep, blue eyes. When you tried to pick it up to assist Eunseok in his task, the cat retaliated by scratching your hands. 

“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt you, even if he looks like he would. Kokuma is one of the friendlier cats here.” He picked Kokuma from you, its demeanor immediately changing upon being held from Eunseok. Rather than the slanted, deep blue hues of wariness that Kokuma gave you, the black, shiny luster in his pupils grew to encompass its entire eyes, softening into large pools of twinkling yearning. Eunseok’s smile at you while he stroked Kokuma’s chin was so radiant and blinding, carrying an infectious weight to it that made you grin from ear to ear. You were still wondering about your dream and whether that was the real Eunseok or not, but you still weren’t certain if the Eunseok that was in front of you, filled with the vibrance of life, was the same one that coldly showed his raw nakedness that night. 

“I’ve started to like mornings a lot more, you know?”

“Yeah? I remember you used to hate them back home, and I had to go all the way up into your room to wake up and go to school together. Then, when you moved out, I would sometimes cycle to yours just to wake you and your girlfriend up!” You said, picturing a perfect scene of your younger, uniform-clad self, clutching a backpack and kicking your bike down Eunseok’s garden to barge into his room, incessantly banging on his door until he got up to open it. 

“Yeah, I remember that,” he replied with a smile. “Mornings used to be so bleak, like a reminder that you’re alive for another day. Now, it’s a reminder of anything fresh and new, and I start to get sad around the afternoon, when the sun starts to go down.”

“I think it’s just a reminder of us getting older, no?” You interjected. 

“I guess, but I don’t think I mind. Getting older is also something fresh and new in its own way,” Eunseok continued playing with Kokuma until it went away to drink some water out of its bowl. He whistled to the tune of “My Grandfather’s Clock,” attracting two cats his way with his low lullaby. Whenever you tried to pet one, it retaliated and demanded nothing but Eunseok’s touch. 

I envy you, you sly, sly cat, you thought, watching the gleaming grin plastered on Eunseok’s lips as he toyed with two cats at the same time. 

“Do you wanna come eat lunch with me?” He suddenly asked, eyes perking up to you while trying to distract the cats who began meowing for his attention. 

“No thanks, I have to work on some schoolwork. I’ll join you when we go out, though,”

You slipped out of the room and went to Eunseok’s bathroom, washing your face and trimming your nails with the inn’s nail clippers. You expected his bathroom to be simple, but the hospitality of the inn added an impeccable array of expensive soaps, facial creams, and moisturizers by his sink—almost to a point where you wondered if he was truly alone in his room or not. While most of the patients were male, there were a few female patients who were often situated by the music room, either playing piano or guitar as they sang songs that were at least a decade old. Albeit a taboo, you also thought of a nurse coming in past ten in the evening. All speculations disappeared the moment you rinsed your face with another splash of cold water. Eunseok wasn’t the type to sleep around, especially now that he was tangibly confused between his feelings for his girlfriend and you. Closing your eyes, you thought of her, and how relaxed she was whenever with Eunseok. It was a new form of trust that transcended everything you knew about emotions—something that was likened to the fusion of two entities into a cellular level. She never needed to worry whenever she was with Eunseok, because he always got straight through her, reading her mind and understanding her on a molecular level. 

Tell me, did you ever get jealous? Of me? Of anyone that Eunseok was with? Did you ever speculate if he was with others when the two of you were not by each other’s side?

No way! You can hear her respond in your head with a vigorous shake of the head. That boy can hardly go on without having to worry about me all the time. Do you think he has the capacity to create space in his mind for other people! No! No way! 

You must be lucky, then! Because he still worries about you even when you’re dead! 

When you blinked, you saw her outline through the mirror, still wearing the school uniform that she shared with Eunseok. She still looked the same as she did then, with an innocent youthfulness that paled in comparison to what you and Eunseok went through in the throes of young adulthood. Almost as if flaunting the permanence of her age, you can imagine her laughing with good, yet prideful intentions at the thought of Eunseok seeing other women in the facility. 

You know, you’re stupid to think of such things! Don’t you believe in him wholeheartedly the way I do?

I don’t know, really. I want to, but it’s a little difficult right now. 

Entering the kitchen, the image of Eunseok’s dead girlfriend nodding and waving goodbye transferred into the ripples of the coffee you made. As you swirled your mug, she would swirl, too, swimming in a black pool, sloshing away until you pressed the mug onto your lips. You took your macroeconomics textbook open, quickly tossing your sweater aside in favor of a white tank top in the sunny kitchen. It was a little odd trying to memorize graphs on a kitchen table that wasn’t yours. 

Eunseok came back from his calligraphy lessons ar noon, taking a quick shower and changing his clothes. He joined you in the dining hall for lunch, then walked you to the front of the gate. The absent guard was now in his little post, listening to a static-ridden radio while reading a book. He waved at the two of you as you walked past the gate, and you returned the gesture with a friendly sentiment. Eunseok went to the logbook and wrote the details of his outing while entertaining the guard with casual small talk. 

“It’s gonna rain later in the evening, so make sure to come back by then. The valley gets very wet and muddy during those times.” He said, mouth stained with the residue of nicotine gum. “Take care,”

“He seems nice,” you said, looking behind you as Eunseok placed his hand on the small of your back. 

“I think he’s a little bit like me,” he replied, tapping his head.

The guard was right about the weather—almost so that the sky’s piercing blue hues served to hurt your eyes. The only trail of white clouds that was left was a limp cluster that looked like torn-up cotton balls stuck to a technicolor backdrop on a child’s art project. Instead of taking the dirt path down the hill and into Seoul University’s engineering building, Eunseok took you up on a hike, traversing through large oak trees leading to a steep, narrow hill. He climbed with a confident stride, legs maneuvering the area with perfect, crisp memory. With hardly a single word uttered between the two of you, Eunseok concentrated on his hike, his bomber jacket hoisted up his left shoulder. 

You watched his frame solemnly move from side to side, his jacket miraculously staying in place despite the nature of the hike. Sometimes, he would look back at you and smile, ensuring that your eyes would meet. 

The trail ended after another ten minutes of upward walking until the two of you reached a flatline. Near the edge of the path, there was a small bench situated at another town’s entrance, and you rested there, wiping your sweat with the hem of your shirt while dousing yourself with water. Then, the two of you got back to walking, this time on a dirt pavement that lined an empty neighborhood of old, Occupation-era houses designed for cheap, communal living away from the main hub of the city. The dead, yellow grass reached your waist and covered a quarter of the houses’ height, alongside dry grubs of pigeon feces that lined the tarnished clay finish of the roofs.

“There was a farmland around here, as you can see with the barren fields. They used to grow rice here, but all of that’s been cleared out since. It’s not really that easy to grow anything out here when the winters get too harsh, and the soil’s been degrading because the weather hasn’t been too nice to it. Everyone migrated towards the city, abandoning this place into an empty wasteland of sorts,”

“Some of the houses here still look like they can be used, no?” You asked. Eunseok peered at one of the bigger houses next to a barren, empty field marred with nothing but dry soil, then snapped his head back to you, as if remembering a crucial detail. 

“There are rumors that the Unification Church used it as one of their communes, but I think they’ve moved down South since. It’s either they couldn’t handle the weather, or they got sick of the mountains. After all, most of the people in that cult are city folk.”

A little beyond the moat and the barren fields was a clear, pristine view of Seoul’s city skyline reflected in the deep depths of the Han river. From the corner of your eyes down to the scope of your peripheral vision, you began to mentally trace the vastness of the city with your pupils, black dots going back and forth as each building merged together with the blurry haze of the autumn sun. Eunseok continued to follow the fence that lined the abandoned houses, unfazed at the city in front of him. With downcast eyes, he continued to trot along, light steps posing symmetry with the rustic, worn-down fences beside him. 

“This reminds me of the old days, just without the sea,” Eunseok whispered. He tilted his head, glassy, beady eyes meeting yours. Somehow, his eyes blinded you more than the beaming sun.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, we did try to revive this ritual when you moved from Jeju to Seoul. We were practically walking back and forth between the entire city!” You cheered, jogging to his side to match his steadfast pace. 

“Even that feels like ancient history to me now.”

At that time, you couldn’t muster a response. You wanted to stop dead at your tracks and pull him into a hug in the middle of the dead roads, holding him with all the delicateness you had in your heart. You wanted to tell him that ancient history is always relevant in the present, and that the past doesn’t have to continue to define your trajectory with him. 

Eunseok-ah, we can go on those walks again—hell, even walk through all of Seoul once more, but it will be different once you’re out. We’ll be walking and revisiting history like a sacred, respected tourist spot, full of all the things we’ve learned and understood about each other. 

Then, Eunseok walked further again, and you felt that he was too far away from your fingertips. No matter how hard you chased after him, he was always two steps forward, only looking back to flash you a fragile, broken smile.

The dirt path came to a halt, and what was beyond the two of you was a lush forest filled with the coos of distant autumn birds and a flora of old growth trees expanding into the edge of the mountain range. There was nothing beyond the point that Eunseok began walking, and yet it was endless all at once. The city you were so familiar with slowly turned into a green haze, and once you looked back past a point where the green, prickly grass began to reach your waist, the beige finish of the dirt path disappeared completely. Eunseok continued treading onward, then stopped to slowly sit down on one of the barren, empty hills that expanded into an infinite illusion of greeneries.

“Sorry about last night again, I don’t know what got to me. All of a sudden, I was this giant ball of nervousness, and I couldn’t control the tears anymore. It was a bit selfish of me to unleash that after you’ve come all the way from Seoul.” He began, eyes focusing on the piece of grass he twisted between his fingers. You took the empty space next to him, maintaining a loose, spatial distance between him. Whenever Eunseok was like this, he was always difficult to get close to. 

“It’s all good.” You reassured, flashing him a warm smile.  “We both have a lot of things and feelings we want to straighten up and get out into the open. So if you need anyone to spill everything on, then spill it all on me. After that, we can understand each other better.” 

“What will happen after that? After we’ve understood each other?” 

“It’s not a question of what then, it’s just a little selfish thing of mine. People have certain fixations, like how Peanut is focused on being a neat freak, and Mirae has her own rigid, albeit complex philosophy that she wants to follow. Mine just happens to be trying to understand you as best as I could, and as best as you’ll let me.” 

“So it’s like a hobby?” He asked, widening his eyes at the prospect. 

“No, not really. I think most people would call that friendship or love, but if you want to think about it as a hobby, then that’s fine by me.” 

“Why do you always end up liking weird people like me?” 

“I don’t see you like that, to be honest.” After a few seconds of silence, you pursed your lips in a long, slow sigh. 

“But I am weird. I wake up in the middle of the night so scared, even when I don’t have any nightmares. I don’t know why, but it’s this feeling of never getting better again. I’ll always stay in this weird, blurry haze, never having a clear head, and grow old like this, wasting away in the inn and the mountains. When I think of that, I get these horrible chills that make me stay up all night.” Eunseok replied, the fragility in his voice grating your ears like grass. You cautiously shifted closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as your wrapped your tiny arms over his broad, wide shoulders. He remained frozen, eyes staring into a blank fixture of green hills as he unconsciously unwinded the twisted grass from his fingers. 

“Sometimes, I feel like she’s calling to me in the darkness, haunting me because death parted us. I can hear her voice calling for me, calling me out to join her because she can’t stand being alone. I don’t know what to do,”

“What have you been doing?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, please.”

“I won’t.”

“Sometimes, I go to the bathroom and stare at myself. Then, I stare at my penis, thinking of you. And I cry, cry so hard that some of the tears drop while I stroke myself to feel any sense of warmth around me. Is that sick?” 

“No, I don’t think it’s sick at all. I just wish I was there for you,” you replied. 

“Be here for me now, then. Right here.” 

Eyes looking deep into his for answers, you began shifting your weight to his side, slowly laying his head on the soft grass. He laid flat on the ground, hands shivering as his fingers explored the small of your back, searching for something that can never be found. You dipped your head towards his temple, forehead grazing his as the tips of your nose touched. Your eyes found his, silent permission awaiting his imminent approval. Once he gave you a quick nod, you closed your eyes and kissed him, the edge of his mouth feeling light as a feather. The apprehension in your bodies quickly started to fade away, and a lonesome desperation consumed Eunseok. In an instant, he grabbed your body close to his, letting all of him fuse with you in a microcosmic level. A sweeping breath from his lungs tingled in your ears, reassuring you that this was what he wanted. This was what he needed. And yet, the hunger in his tongue delving deep inside the caverns of your mouth made you apprehensive. He responded to every single inch of your body with a bottomless hunger that was difficult to keep up with. Hands threading your hair, tangling within your locks, he pulled you in deeper—and in an instant, it was almost as if he dyed you with all the dark colors that plagued him since you last saw him in Seoul. 

“You don’t need to hold back,” you whispered, trying to hide the nervousness that overwhelmed you. As if knowing this, a deep stare engulfed you within the prison of his psyche, enveloping you into his austere smolder. 

He slid further down into the hem of your dress, tugging at it and pushing it upward to expose your bare skin to the gentle, autumn breeze. He was warm yet cold at the same time, fingers grasping your waist and never letting go. His rough tongue never left an inch in your stomach, appetite increasing as he found his hands under the cups of your bra. In a quick motion, you raised your torso up and helped him unclasp it, slender fingers desperately squeezing each line and curvature of your breasts. His free hand made its way to feel the cotton of your panties, sneaking past the binding elastic to feel the soft moisture of your slit. 

“Tell me something,” He whispered. 

“What?” You replied with bated, agonizing breath. 

“Will you wait for me until I get better?” 

“Of course I will,”

“Will you do me a favor and stop saying of course to everything I say?” 

“Sorry, I’ll stop.”

He continued to play with your clit, thumb pressing lightly on its surface while his fingers found its way into your entrance. His lips found its way to your perked up nipples, grazing his tongue around its shape to memorize its outline in perfect clarity. You grabbed his hair, shaky fingers desperately trying to unzip his jeans. 

“You’re still wet,” He smiled. 

“You’re warm,” You replied, gaining the courage to meet his eyes as you pressed your palm on his crotch. 

In one, swift motion, you gently slid his trousers down to his knees, with Eunseok awkwardly kicking them to the side. As his fingers entered your walls, searching around them as you clenched yourself tightly to his electrifying touch, your hands played with the hem of his boxers, casually slipping your fingers in and out until a heaving, longing snarl escaped his hungry lungs. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” You asked. A flimsy nod was enough for you to take his girth within your fingers, thumb placed at his tip as you slowly moved up and down, feeling him grow underneath your grasp. He sucked his breath in with your every touch, occasionally losing focus and pulling his fingers out of you. 

Gently, you stood up and laid Eunseok on the grass bed, licking his abdomen until your tongue found its way to the tip of his penis. With two hands, you continued to clasp your fingers around his member, one tightly held at his shaft and the other firmly gripping his length. You took him all in, breathing in his intoxicating scent as you let him reach the entrance of your throat. 

“Stop,” he murmured. “I want to make you feel good,”

“You don’t have to,” You whispered with a smile, your breath tingling beneath his girth. 

“We can make each other feel good, Eunseok.” 

Intertwining your fingers with his, you led his stiff length to your core, slowly bucking your hips in response to every jolt and jitter from his member. He held your hands tightly, throbbing and crying with lustful pain as you continued to move your hips to a pace that didn’t overwhelm him. Soft cries of desire and loneliness filled the barren, empty fields of green, and the uncomfortable prickle of grass disappeared, replaced with the needy warmth of Eunseok’s body inside yours. He sucked in a breath, hips rocking forward in a desperate attempt to follow the motions of your hips. Your chest heaved, and your breath began to run out, but you continued to ignore the beads of sweat that trickled from your chin down to his exposed abdomen, wet palms gripping his in the damp grass surrounding the two of you. He whispered his girlfriend’s name underneath his breath, eyes covered with locks of deep, jet-black hair. Despite this, you continued to move your hips, adjusting to every single twitch that you felt inside you. 

“Eunseok-ah,” 

The immense pleasure building up between your legs loosened into static bliss, feeling Eunseok beneath you, attempting to unlatch himself from your feverish grasp. Now, he was on top of you, firm hands gripping your body tight while your fingernails scratched into his bare back. Just when you thought the wild tensions in your legs began to fade away, the sensation was suddenly replaced with a wave of euphoria. Being filled with Eunseok’s warmth gave you a mixed temperature that blended his cold loneliness with his aching, yearning heat. The rise and fall of his chest and the faint heartbeat that reverberated with it fused with yours; this was the closest you had ever been to Eunseok. 

“I never told you about how my dad died, didn’t I?” Eunseok said, breath hazy and interrupted with quick pants. 

“I think you did. It was during the war, right?” You replied, removing his limpness outside of you as you watched some of his cum trickle down your thighs. 

“Yeah, but I never really went into detail about what happened after that.” 

Eunseok cleaned up after himself with his shirt, zipping his jacket all the way up to his neck to defeat the cold. He offered the piece of cloth to you, and you did the same. 

“After my mom found out my dad’s body got washed up in Vietnam, she was never the same. Of course, I was a kid, so I didn’t really know what was going on, but I was old enough to understand what it meant when she would lock herself in her room every night, crying and praying all the time. We always fought and bickered before that, but since then, she has never fought with me. She was always so quiet, serving me my meals and picking me up from school.”

To your recollection, Eunseok’s mother was someone inviting and chatty, always updated with gossip looming around the parent’s association. Unlike the other housewives who were often lonely at home, Eunseok’s mother was a radiant beam that shonen even brighter once her husband came home. 

“It was the day I had to go home with you, because my mom didn’t show up. The moment I went home, I could smell something vile in the air, kind of like rotting meat. It made me sick to my stomach, but I went inside the house anyway, calling for my mom, who, by this point I was already used to not answering me. I called and called, I even stopped calling her mom and called her by her full name, but she never replied. With my little hands and feet, I tried to open the door, and when I finally saw it, I didn’t know what to think. My own mother, was suspended in tacky bedsheets that she tied together to the main light in her room. By then, she was so frail and thin that the bedsheets didn’t snap or break the lights. After that, I lived through everything like a blur. Maybe that way, the image of her being strangled to death wouldn’t be in my head forever. I then lived with some relative who I never knew existed, and she was alright. She was a little too old to take care of me, but she made my meals on time and even sent her neighbor to pick me up from school. That was when we started walking to the beach a lot, because no matter how much I told myself that this will be my new normal, it never clicked. I was always going to come home to my dead mother, and that will stay with me for the rest of my life. Going to the beach instead of going straight home was the only way I was able to add a new routine to my life, something that will make me forget about it all.” 

Eunseok stopped at his tracks, taking a few seconds to breathe before moving forward again. 

“The way she killed herself reminded me of how my girlfriend died. They couldn’t stand the grief of losing someone in their life. With my mom, it was my dad’s death that did it. The same could be said about her, even if there was no evidence or indicators that made me understand why she did what she did. I’m not saying she had a perfect upbringing; she was far from it. That’s probably why we got along so well when I moved into her neighborhood after that relative died, and my aunt took me in. From the first day of school, she latched onto me, saying we had the same eyes. Then, I found out her dad died in the war, just like mine, and we seemed to have an automatic, almost spiritual understanding of each other. The more I was with her, the more she reminded me of my mother before my dad died. She liked to read a lot, stayed inside most of the time, and talked. Talked so much that sometimes, it made me forget that my mom had died at all. Her words had a way of filling my brain with things to think about, things to distract myself with. She was the kind of person who told stories that came to life, and I don’t know why I tortured myself the way I did, but whenever I came across a writer who spoke life into their characters, I’d cry. I cried a lot.” 

Whenever Eunseok paused, his fingers would twirl into the tall grass, often picking at them to make long ribbons that decorated his hands. Whenever he was finished or if the grass began to snap with the pressure he put on them, he would discard them immediately. 

“I never found her when she died, but I can still remember it vividly. I came home from the beach with you, and all of a sudden, two police cars were parked outside of my aunt’s house. They came to ask me a few questions, and then told me that they found her dead on the island’s only highway, sprawled out on the road and flattened by large tires. They took me to the coroner and had me examine her body to identify her, and it took me a while, but I think I was there the entire night, looking at her mangled corpse. I tried talking to her, to see if, by some miracle, she was alive and would respond to me. But the more I conversed with her, the more I felt that I was just talking to myself, so I left and went home. She had the school uniform that we wore, and her dirty bag was sealed in a plastic bag with scribbles and labels that I couldn’t read. I demanded to look through her stuff, but the police had told me they found nothing. No suicide note, no plans to die, nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was just her schoolbooks and a board game that she wanted to play. For the longest time, I believed the incident was an accident. I just thought she took a wrong turn and happened to exit the highway, since it was en route from the school to our neighborhood. Of course, that’s an illusion I fed myself with. How the hell could she turn to a blocked-off highway with large, concrete walls around it to make sure nobody dumb enough would climb it and end up being run over like her? The police later came to me that week and told me they found a grappling hook! A grappling hook! Disposed at the edge of the highway! Why the hell would she have a grappling hook!” 

With this, Eunseok slowly shook his head. 

“I haven’t seen you since then. I just couldn’t talk to anyone at all until the funeral, when I forced myself to meet you.”

The two of you were back at the entrance to the dirtpath, the marmalade glow of the setting sun dyeing the entire, empty neighborhood in warm hues. 

“I’m telling you, I’m a lot more flawed than you think I am. This sickness that I have is a lot worse than you think. It’s not just my girlfriend, but it’s everyone around me. It’s like I kill everyone that I end up getting too close to. And that’s why I want you to move forward, without me. Please don’t wait for me anymore. Sleep with other men and live life. Don’t let thoughts of me hold you back. Otherwise, you might end up dead, too, and that’s the one thing I don’t want to do. I don’t want to interfere with your life like that. I care about you too much to ever want to tarnish you like that. All I want is for you to remember me and come see me when you can. That’s it.” 

“But that’s not all I want, though,” You replied. 

“You’re wasting your life away by being involved with me,” 

“How do you know that? I’ve known you since I was nine, and I’m still here, alive and well, right next to you,” 

“But I might never recover. Are you still gonna be there then?” He asked. You couldn’t tell if he was desperate or curious anymore. 

“You’re letting yourself get scared by all these things: the dark, the dead, the sickness. You have to let go and forget them to recover, and I’m sure you will.” 

“That’s if I can,” Eunseok replied, shaking his head. 

“Once you’re discharged, do you wanna live with me?” You suddenly asked. “Then I can protect you from everything. I’ll be there for you when things get too hard, and I will always be right next to you so you can hold me whenever you’re feeling lonely. It’s no sea or anything, but it’ll be just like Jeju. We’ll walk up and down the Han River until we reach the end of it.” 

“That would be wonderful,” 

Eunseok pressed his languid weight against yours, lacing his fingers underneath your palms.

The last thing Eunseok said to you was a faint “goodbye,” and then, your time at Ujeong Inn ended just as swiftly as it had begun. It rained when you had to leave, and Eunseok didn’t see you out the door. He was right about the inn and its facilities, for it took a while for you to adjust to the “real world.” Unlocking the door to your apartment and entering what was supposed to be your home suddenly felt unfamiliar. Sometimes, apparitions of Eunseok would start to appear at the kitchen table that the two of you shared when he still lived next to you, listening to his meager record collection while making dinner on a Friday night. Now, you lay in bed in a daze, watching a stream of abstract colors wash and waver around your eyes. It took a few blinks for them to disappear into your empty, white ceiling, and before you could sleep, the ungodly hour struck at three in the morning with fifteen-minute intervals of blaring sirens outside your open window. The ghost of Eunseok’s presence was felt strongly in the empty spaces of your bed, as if any minute now, he would come crawling next to you, resting his head on your chest while sharing each other’s warmth. You could feel his tender, jolting skin next to yours, the ebbs and flows of his shaky breath coming up and down with each contraction of his chest. In the darkness of the night, you returned to the inn and the visions of your dreams there, smelling the fresh, lush greeneries a distance away. You thought of his naked, frail body, picturing him playing with the cats at the inn or drawing beautiful renditions of calligraphy with his slender fingers gently gripping the tip of the brush. Your fingers slowly made their way to your entrance, pushing more fingers until you could fill yourself up with a loose pastiche of his girth until you came. That managed to help you sleep a little, but before you knew it, your alarm clock rang in your ears, signaling your true return to the real world. 

The next time you saw Sungchan was a week later, after you had eaten lunch at the cafeteria on your way to your macroeconomics lecture. Sungchan was with a group of other boys, presumably soccer players, as all of them had been wearing cleats. When he saw you, he approached you alone. 

“So, what’s going on with our deal?” He asked.

“You mean your so-called restraining order?” 

“Ditch macro and come eat lunch with me.” 

“I already ate.” 

“So? Don’t care. Order a coffee or something. Just come with me.”

The two of you ended up at a nearby cafe, where he ordered a giant plate of pork cutlet while you had a serving of coffee. He still wore a sweaty, soccer jersey with shorts and knee-high socks tucked underneath a pair of tightly-laced cleats. He seemed to enjoy the cutlet and took three or four bites at once while quickly drinking a glass of water. 

“Things haven’t been good at the record store, sales have been rough and I practically had to be home waiting for calls. Something about negotiating the building being sold off and my dad from Thailand calling at weird times to talk about it,” 

“Any fires lately?” You asked. 

“That was fun! We should do it again,” Sungchan had another glass of water, took a breath, and stared into your eyes for a while. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sungchan said, snapping his fingers around your eyes. “You look like you’re not here,” 

“I’m alright, I’ve just been tired from a trip.” You replied. 

“Where did you go?” 

“Gwanaksan. Just over there.”

“Why?” 

“For a hike?” 

“Did you meet other boys there?” 

“What’s that to you?” 

“I don’t know, I can’t stop thinking about when we kissed.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“Not even a proper reaction? God, you talk so weird.” 

“Do I?”

“Yeah, anyway,” Sungchan snapped, taking the menu in his hands while holding his free arm up high to call a waiter. “I was thinking, right, that if I could switch things in my life around to make it more ideal, then I would’ve absolutely been happier if my first kiss had been with you. Then, I would wonder later in my life about you, asking about that one first kiss, not knowing where the hell you went off to. Wouldn’t that be nice?” 

“I guess?” You replied. In a few minutes, a large pint of beer was slammed onto the table. Sungchan gave a quick wink to the waiter before gulping half of the glass down, careless of the white foam that lingered around his lips. 

“Why are you so spaced out?” 

“I don’t know. Probably the mountains and nature doing things to me, but I just feel like nothing’s real anymore.” You replied after another round of silence. 

“People are strange when you’re a stranger,” 

“The Doors? Really?” 

“What? It’s my job to know many songs, and you just happened to perfectly describe this one request I’m working on for the radio: something about loneliness and isolation in the city.” 

“Right,” 

“You really need to come to Thailand with me,” Sungchan said. You’ve always known him as the type to take charge of the conversation and mold it into whatever he wished, but you found it difficult to keep up with him. 

“I don’t think that’s a bad idea at all,” You replied, chuckling lightly as your eyes scanned the drinks menu. Though it was still midday, you realized that a drink or two could ease your apprehensions about the inn and Eunseok. 

“Come on! Ditch everything, I’m sure it’d be a nice, wonderful change to go somewhere where you don’t know a single soul.”

After calling the waiter for a cool mojito, you turned your attention back to Sungchan. 

“Sometimes, I feel like doing that. I just wanna escape life, get whisked somewhere far, far, away. Live like those super-rich men who have a ton of babies everywhere they go, and I’d live happily with them, watching them roll on the floor and coo with their little big eyes.”

“Babies…?” 

“I guess you don’t want a lot of babies yet,” Sungchan groaned, eyes tracing the plate of fries that was freshly placed in front of him. He took a handful and stuffed his face until his cheeks puffed out, leaving you in a laughing fit. 

“I don’t know, motherhood doesn’t sound too bad, but not right now.” 

“It’s alright. You don’t want to have them, so there’s no point.” Sungchan took another handful of fries and loudly crunched on them. “What’s the point of going to Thailand anyway? All they have there is elephant shit. Elephant shit everywhere. A shit here, and a shit there. Hey, do you want some of my skewers? Take my skewers.” 

Sungchan was especially enigmatic today. You couldn’t put your fingers around why, but it slowly helped you pull yourself out of the lingering memories you had with Eunseok. Now, you were here, with Sungchan blabbering on about whatever came into his mind. You had a cool glass of mint mojito next to you, and the more you drank its chilled contents, the more your throat responded positively. Perhaps you were just parched, or perhaps it was something more. Regardless, you were coming back in the now, chin resting on your knuckles as you watched the plate of fries and skewers quickly disappear, its contents successfully transported inside Sungchan's mouth. 

“Sunday was too nice to me, almost like a dream I never wanted to wake up from. Watching someone’s house get on fire, drinking beer—I don’t know how long it’s been since I felt something so relaxing. People are always forcing me to do things, like, the minute they see me, they ask me, ‘Hey Sungchan! Do this!’ or ‘Sungchan! Can you sub for a left-back today?’ The least anyone can do is not force things on me like that.” 

“I don’t think I know you enough to force you to do stuff for me,” You replied. Once the plate of fries was empty, Sungchan popped a few ice cubes in his mouth, crushing it beneath his teeth as he whistled at the waiter for another heaping of chicken skewers and two bottles of strong rye whiskey. 

“You mean, if you knew me better, you’d force me to do things like everyone else?” He asked, eyes staring straight into yours. This was the third or fourth round of drinks, and the waiter seemed visibly annoyed at the growing pile of empty glasses next to Sungchan. He rested his chin on his large palm, fingers tapping his cheek to the rhythm of Echo and the Bunnymen playing in the background. Once you finished your glass, you kept still, quiet as ever. Closing your eyes, you immersed yourself in the soft strums of “Lips Like Sugar.” The restaurant began to pile up with more customers, but it was only your table that had begun drinking alcohol. 

“I mean, isn’t that how life is? People build relationships by forcing stuff onto each other.” You explained, after ordering another glass of mojito. 

“But you wouldn’t do that. You’re not the type.”

“How are you so sure of that?”

“I can just tell. I’ve become an expert in these things, seeing if people will force things on you or not, and you’re nothing like that, which is why I feel so relaxed when I’m with you.”

“What kind of things do people force on you?”

“Do you wanna get to know me better?” 

“I just asked,”

“What kind of answer is that?” Sungchan exclaimed, angrily popping another ice cube in his mouth. 

“Okay, yes, Sungchan. I do wanna get to know you better.”

“Really?” 

His crunching halted, a few drops of melted ice trickling down his chin, dampening his palms in the process. 

“Yes.” 

“Even if what I might say ends up getting you in prison?” 

“Seriously?” 

“Are you free on Sunday again?” He asked. 

“Didn’t I tell you I was always free on Sundays?”

“Okay, come hang out with me on Sunday, then.” 

“Sure,”

“I’ll come to your apartment, then we can go somewhere from there. I’m not sure what time, though, but I’ll be there when I’ll be there, ringing your doorbell.”

“Yeah, sure. That’s no problem.” 

“Do you have any idea what I wanna do right now?” He asked in quick succession, a fresh batch of chicken skewers sliding onto his side of the table. With a clean swipe, he took a piece and used his teeth to remove all the meat from the burnt, wooden stick. 

“No, my head’s blank right now, if I’m being honest with you.” 

“Okay, so first, I wanna lie down in a bigass bed, wide and comfy with fluffy blankets. I wanna get so drunk and cozy, not having to think about elephants and their shit at all, and I want you to be there, right next to me.”

“And then?” 

“I think you know the rest,” 

“Oh boy…”

You couldn’t count the amount of drinks the two of you had, but you were sure that Sungchan was not in the right headspace. He was staggering from his seat, eyes squinting at the bill as he complained that the text was too small for him to read. Regardless, he slapped several five thousand Won notes on the leather casing that held the thinly-veiled receipt. 

“It’s okay, think of it as a treat. I was the one who asked you to skip class for me anyway, unless you’re true to your party’s goals and have a credit card, refusing to let a man pay for you.” 

“No, I’m not like that. It’s fine, really.” 

Lifting Sungchan out of the restaurant was already a hassle in itself, but his staggers worsened as soon as the two of you began to walk outside. You couldn’t tell if he was tipsy or if he was already drunk, but he almost missed one step, and you did your best to carry his weight on your shoulders, making sure that you didn’t fall back into the hard, concrete wall with him. The layers of violet in the sky were now embedded in a deep, dark glow, emanating the low dim of the crescent moon that flickered with the neon lights around the alleyways. The two of you wandered around for a while, ending up in a small parkette with a few swings and benches. 

“Do you think if there were any tall trees in here, I could climb it?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I mean, you’re athletic and all, I’m sure a tree would be nothing to you.” 

You looked around the parkette to ensure that your eyes didn’t fool you, and you hummed in vague concern upon realizing that there weren’t any trees at all in the parkette. The only thing that remotely resembled such a tree was the neatly trimmed bushes that lined the entrance of the parkette, exaggerating in size with the shadowplay of the night. Sure, some of them had outlines of twigs and branches sticking out of them, but in the end, there was nothing that Sungchan could climb—especially given his stature. 

“Well, too bad. All the trees here are too damn short for me.” 

He got up and grabbed your hand, fingers clasped tightly on your wrists as he led you into the main shopping district. The more you were engulfed in the bustle of the city, watching each mannequin outside of a store feel more alive and in tune with the world than you were at the moment, the more concrete everything around you began to feel. The streets felt real, even more real than before when you had just moved to Seoul. It was a stark reminder that you were no longer there, but here, in the city, with a woozy Sungchan flailing his arms as he walked with an invisible tune in his head. 

“I’m glad I ran into you.” You whispered under your breath.  “I think I’m back in the real world now,”

“That is true,” Sungchan replied, stopping in his tracks while peering straight into your eyes. “You finally look like you’re here. See? That contract of ours is doing you wonders. I get to have a restraining order so I don’t get any creepy stalkers anymore, and hanging out with me does you good by pulling you all the way back to the ground from whatever sky you’re at.”

“Sometimes, I hate that you’re right,”

The large clock looming at the center of the intersection in the shopping district pointed at six in the evening, and Sungchan said he had to go home to make dinner and prepare for a match tomorrow. You told him that you would also call it a night, allowing him to walk you to the bus stop. 

“Do you know what I want to do now?” He asked, taking the seat next to you in the waiting area. 

“What?” 

“I want to go to Somalia. Get captured by pirates, you and me. They’d tie us together in tight ropes and make sure we can’t escape.” 

“Why the hell would you want us to get captured by pirates?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe fucking you in captivity is a hot fantasy I’ve let myself think about a bit too much,” he said. 

“Pervert.” 

“Then, the pirates, even though we can’t understand their language at all, would tell us we had an hour to go before they would either shoot us or, by some miracle, have some coastal guards from the US find us and save us.”

“Then?” 

“And then we would use that hour, rolling around while trying to take our clothes off, me trying to put it in with our hands and legs tied together,”

“That’s what you wanna do now? Really?”

“Yeah,”

“Good lord, Sungchan,” you said, shaking your head. By this point, Sungchan was sober enough to get up and walk back to the station. As the door to the bus opened, he reminded you of your meeting tomorrow, staying seated in the waiting area until your bus took a turn to the other lane.

It was seven in the morning when Sungchan visited your apartment. You had just woken up and had time to fetch the daily paper at your door, but you didn’t have the chance to wash your face or properly start your day with a cup of coffee. Before you could go back to the kitchen table or take a glance at today’s headline, someone loudly pounded at your door. Tucking the paper underneath your arm, you peeked through the door viewer to find Sungchan peering straight into its small, circular lens. His form wavered and swirled each time you blinked, the glass reflection of his eyes seemingly spinning in graceful pirouettes. 

“Hurry up and let me in, or else I’ll get hit on by all your neighbors! Including the ahjummas who were totally staring at how nice my face looks!” 

Once you opened the door, you were greeted by Sungchan’s beaming smile. Beads of sweat lined his furrowed brows as he used the hem of his shirt to wipe down the mist that gleamed under the rays of the summer sun. 

“Was I too early?” He asked. 

“No, not really. You came here right after the guy delivered my morning paper, come in, and I’ll make you some tea.” 

Sungchan kicked his shoes off, lining them neatly next to your sneakers before entering your apartment. 

“Nice place for yourself, is that the bed where you finger yourself? Or do you do it on the couch over there?” 

At this point, you were used to his crudeness, but the level of crass he can muster always leaves you with a second of stalled thought—almost as if time had stopped whenever something dirty came out of his mouth. 

“Come on, Sungchan. It’s like, seven in the morning. Don’t you have anything better to say?” You replied

“No, not really.” 

Before the kettle on your stove could hiss and breathe steam, you rushed to turn the switch off, hastily opening the window and fanning the smoke out into the open. Sungchan sat on one of the chairs of your dining table set, eyeing the stacks of newspapers you’ve saved somewhat morosely. 

“Tea’s ready, what kind do you want?” You asked. 

“The same one you’re having,”

“Okay,” 

You added an extra portion of milk into his tea with a cube of sugar. Normally, you’d prepare a pot of orange pekoe or rose hip, unbothered by the periodical cool of the tea whenever you would leave it to brew for too long to head to the university. Rather than out of practice or habit, it was more so a neglectful absence that didn’t require atonement. To you, it was just a pot of tea. If you were so eager to have it nice and warm, you could just pour a cup full into a saucepan and add a little bit of milk or fruit jam, stirring it and drinking it with a spoon instead of transferring it back into the pot. There was no routine to it at all. Tea was tea. 

However, the man in front of you, crass as he may be, was your guest. Even if it were at his request to have whatever you were having, it would probably be wise for you to brew him a fresh cup. After all, he was a guest, not a customer. It’s not for him to know how you like to have your tea—cold and bitter. 

“So tell me, what do girls living alone like you do?” He asked, ceaselessly blowing on the tip of the mug as he waited impatiently to devour the drink. 

“I don’t know, that’s a very creepy question to ask, you know?” You replied between sips of hot tea, placing your mug down on a coaster as you crossed your legs, dangling them on the side of the chair. “Also, don’t you have a girlfriend to ask this to?” 

“Just like you, we’re a bit complicated right now.” He said, eyes looking at the slow, rising steam wafting back and forth from his mug. “Besides, she’d yell at me if I asked her these things.”

“That’s perfectly normal.” 

“I know, but I’m just curious, and you seem to answer all my questions, no matter how bizarre.”

“That’s because you won’t shut up unless I do,” You retorted. Sungchan took the mug back into his hands and towards his pursed lips, giving the rim a light peck before drinking half of the cup and jingling it around to swish the leaves that rested at the bottom of his mug. 

“So tell me, what is it that you do here all alone?” He asked again. His doe-like, brown eyes protruded through you as if you were transparent—practically invisible. Rubbing the goosebumps off your arms, you cleared your throat and took the mug between your lips, gently blowing at it before taking a sip. Once you let it down, his bright, brown eyes glistened into a greenish hazel you as the sun hit his frame through the sheer slip between the curtains. You pushed your seat back and continued to hold your mug, this time anchoring your elbow to the table to increase the distance between him. 

“Well, I get up, read the daily papers, drink tea or coffee, depending on what I have, then take the train to school. When I go home, I take a shower, brush my teeth, study, and then go to bed.”

“What about your sex life?” 

“That hasn’t been active lately,”

“Isn’t it easier for you to just bring men here?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t feel like it,” 

“Am I not hot enough?” 

“No, you’re a hunk, trust me.”

“So then, why don’t you invite me here more often?” 

“Because, dumbass, I think of you as a friend. Why would I want to invite you over and—”

“You have someone else waiting to be invited back here,” Sungchan retorted. You could feel your chest tighten at every second that passed in silence. 

“Well, yeah, I guess,” You replied, exhaling each word as you turned your gaze to the fuzz of your worn-out slippers. “You’re surprisingly proper when it comes to these things,” 

“That’s what I like about you. But still, you couldn’t even invite me over for a quick fuck? Something to let some steam off? I wanna be here even just once, helping each other relieve our stress or something. I’m asking you because we’re friends. Who else can I ask for something like that? I can’t just walk up to anyone and say, ‘Hey, do you live alone? Can you invite me over so we can fuck for a second?’ It’s because I see you as a friend that I’m asking,”

You let out a sigh. 

“If you’re that desperate, you can come over again next week, and we can sort something out. What do you like?” 

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression or anything,” You said, watching him stand up through the corner of your eyes. “You already have painted yourself as a sex-crazed freak,”

Sungchan began pacing the room, letting his loud steps echo throughout your walls and back into your ears, equally matching the quickening thumps of your heart that rendered you deaf. He then turned his heels with a screech, and you watched his toes' heavy, languid steps draw closer to the tip of your slippers. He took a finger and lifted your chin to meet his gaze, a swirling depth of hazel underneath the glimmer of the sun. Before you could lean, he took his finger back and stuffed it in his pocket, hunching back into his seat with a ‘thump.’ 

“Whatever, anyway, I’m just curious. I was in an all-boys school my whole life so I really don’t know anything about women, even if people have spread rumors about me being this playboy. I want to really know what women think, not just through gossip and stories from other boys.”

You tried to suppress a groan, but allowed him to continue with his ridiculous train of thought. 

“The thing is, the girl I’m seeing right now doesn’t really like it when I ask her these things. She gets angry, calls me a nympho or a crazy person, and she wouldn’t even let me eat her out. Something about being a hardcore Christian makes her want to wait and see these things as impure,” 

“Right,”

“Have you been eaten out before?” 

“Yeah,”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, but can we please talk about something else? It’s such a beautiful Sunday morning, where I was meant to sip coffee in the sunrise while reading my morning paper. I don’t want it to be ruined by talking about fucking and getting my pussy eaten out. Let’s try to talk about something else, like your girlfriend or something. Is she in the same university as us?” You asked. The cup clasped onto your hands was empty, and you didn’t have the appetite to offer pastries that you’d left in your bread box two days ago. 

“Okay, pause. She’s not my girlfriend. It’s a little more complicated than that. She goes to the women’s university nearby, and we met after I played at her school for a soccer match. We started to talk more after exams, but she refused to put a label on it,”

At some point in the conversation, you began to allow the rest of the world around you to blur in a dream-like haze, wafting back and forth like the steam that has now fully evaporated out of you and Sungchan’s mug. You let your head hang lightly by the headrest of your chair, feeling the wooden spine trudge deeper and deeper into your neck. In these thoughts, you tried to picture Eunseok’s face, but it was rather difficult when Sungchan’s voice would continue to permeate in and out of your ears. What did Sungchan’s girlfriend look like? Would she be a better fit for Eunseok than you were? Why should any of that matter? You didn’t even know the girl.

“Hey,”

“What?” 

Just as your eyes began to adjust to the slow, menial details of Sungchan’s face, the cup on the coaster tipped over to reveal scatters of tea leaves strewn across your dining table, coated in thick, dark hues of deep, foreboding maroon. You hastily searched for a napkin or a tea towel, and Sungchan tossed a pack of tissues crumpled out of his pocket. 

“Just once on a Sunday.” He repeated, and you lost his train of thought at that very moment. 

“No,” You answered, but a part of you failed to recall his initial request. 

“At least think of me when you finger yourself, please?”

Ah, there it is again.

“Fine. I’ll give it a try and write you a detailed report, is that enough?” You said, throwing the empty pack of tissues to the bin by the kitchen counter. 

The two of you took the commuter train to Jongno. When you transferred to Daegok, Sungchan offered to purchase a small, tuna-filled kimbap from one of the stands in the station to make up for the breakfast you hadn’t eaten. The tea you had with him was over-brewed and tasted of the autumn falls blasting in your mouth. The trains on the weekends usually consisted of students in large groups of more than five and families who wanted to take the line straight to the park. There was an odd assortment of bookish girls in long skirts and boys slinging tennis rackets on their backs, rushing to leave the train to the nearest exit. Underneath the fluorescent lights of the carriage, Sungchan’s tank top was so sheer that you could see the outline of his chest and abdomen without any sense of imagination. Occasionally, he would pull the hem of his top-down, tightening its fit to enhance the way his sweat and skin clung onto the transparency of his white top. Some people in the car began staring at him, making you uneasy. This continued until the two of you had to get off at Bulgwang to switch platforms. 

“Do you wanna know what I’d like to do now?” Sungchan whispered while you quickened your pace. 

“Not here, Sungchan, we’re in the fucking train for god’s sake,” You hissed. “What if someone will hear you?” 

“Too bad, this fantasy’s a wild one,” Sungchan replied, clearly disappointed. 

“Why are we going to Jongno?” You asked, attempting to change the topic. 

“Just come,”

Jongno was sparse on a Sunday, full of empty houses that toppled over each other with equally vacant garage slots imprinted in thick, black tire marks. Sungchan slid through the downward slope of the residential villages resembling ancient homes with sleek, angular woodwork, keeping one of his hands in his pocket while interlocking his fingers in yours with the other. 

Without warning, he asked you. “Can you explain the concept of speculative attacks and why that causes a currency crisis?” 

“I can, but you should know the answer to that if you paid attention in lecture,” You replied. 

“Okay, here’s another way to frame it. How could that stuff be useful in our day-to-day life?”

“Unless you’re working in public policy or economics, then no, you don’t really need to know that stuff in detail.” You said after a brief pause to collect your thoughts. “It doesn’t necessarily serve a concrete purpose, but having that extra information in mind is useful for you to grasp things in a more logical, systematic manner.  Say, a currency crisis. It’s a thing that impacts our daily lives. If the government is running a budget deficit, then that means they’re gonna hike up taxes or cut spending. What this means for us is our lives might be harder because we have more taxes to pay, or facilities that we need might not be built. Things like that can give us more pieces to fit in this large puzzle we call life.” 

He continued to hold your hand down the slope, only letting go to carry you up once the two of you reached a point where all the greeneries and mountain ranges looked as squishable as a colony of ants within the palm of your hand. Your breath hitched for an instant, taking in the soft breeze gently caressing your cheeks while staring down into a part of the city that suddenly made you feel so small. Cars and trucks parked down the pathway felt like toys you could animate to life with one push of your finger; families hand-in-hand could be plucked out like dolls; the sky and clouds swirled with the swirl of your finger; the green of the mountains was so vibrant you felt yourself inching closer and closer to the metal railing’s edge. 

“Wow, aren’t you amazing.” He said, keeping his firm, long arms on your waist. “I never really thought about it that way. I’ve always seen what I’ve learned in school as totally useless, a pain in the ass, if you will, so I always ignored them. Now, thanks to you, I have to rethink my whole life. See if I was thinking about things the wrong way,”

“You ignored them?”

“Yeah, like I just thought they didn’t exist. I know money exists because it’s something tangible, but I couldn’t care less about sine curves or differential calculus. Those are just things to me, things I write on paper that I just throw out when I’m done with them.” 

“Then how did you get into university with a mindset like that?” 

“Don’t be dumb, you don’t need to know everything to pass exams! You just need luck and intuition. Most of the time, it’s just picking one option out of the three. One of them usually looks off, so it’s picking between the two that you think is right—and I’m usually right about the answers.” He exclaimed, leaving light kisses on your neck. 

“Unlike you, I don’t think I have too good of an intuition, so I have to be systematic, kind of like how ants work together to carry food back to their colony. It’s a step-by-step relay of going from point A to point B, until I reach the end.” You laughed under your breath, taking the chance to turn and free yourself from him. You leaned on the metal railings, feeling the cool touch of the metal replace the warmth that his arms had left. 

“Is that any better?” He asked curiously. 

“I don’t know, I think it’s easier to understand some concepts that way,”

“Like what? I need examples here,”

“Languages?”

“What good does learning a new language do?” He asked. Sungchan always had a habit of curling his lips inward when he was in deep thought, accentuating the apples of his cheeks and making his sharp features rounder. 

“Depends on the person trying to learn it. It serves some people a purpose to understand French because they’re either going to France or any French-speaking country for work, and others might be here in Korea their whole lives. The main thing, though, is training your brain to dissect things piece-by-piece, making it easier to absorb. It’s not necessarily about the purpose it serves, but often the skills you gain.” 

“You know, you’re really good at explaining things to people,” Sungchan finally said, seemingly impressed with you. He took your hand in his again and took you even lower down the slope. 

“Am I?” You asked. 

“Yeah. I’ve asked everyone in class what the hell a currency crisis has to do with everyday life and why we need it, and not one of them gave me a good, clear answer. Not even the professors are supposed to be experts in this stuff! They go on this winding path of just explaining difficult concepts and never getting to the root of my question, or they just laugh it off and tell me that I should know because I decided to enroll myself in this program. If I had met you a lot earlier, then I would’ve been interested in so many things! Damn, what a life I’ve missed.”

All you could do was hum in response. 

“Did you ever read Das Kapital?” He suddenly asked. 

“Only parts that were assigned, but I never got around to finishing it,”

“Did you understand what Marx was trying to say?” 

“A little bit. I feel like you have to have more knowledge on economics to read a book like that, far beyond what has been hamfisted up our asses by the professors,”

That was a lie. Your first encounter with Marx was with Eunseok and his girlfriend in high school. Being the contrarian she was, she always enjoyed provocative books that got her in trouble. Naturally, after being suspended for three days for carrying a copy of Marx and Engel’s The Communist Manifesto, proclaiming her unyielding devotion to Juche in front of the whole class, the next step for her was to bring a copy of Das Kapital, tactfully ripping some of the paragraphs and stuffing them inside her History notebook upon submission to the teacher. You had only read a few pages of Das Kapital then, but to this day, you could never understand what this book had to do with communism. It was a benign, sometimes aggressive critique of what is now blooming into a consolidated economic system written at a time when there were many avenues that the world could’ve taken. Marx shouldn’t be faulted for what the future thought of his words. 

“Do you think, say, a first-year student who has never been educated in economics would be able to understand Das Kapital just by reading it?” Sungchan asked. 

“No, that’s just a Sisyphean task. Outright impossible.” You responded without preamble. 

“You know, when I joined the soccer team, I expected to simply play soccer. But no, that wasn’t the case. Most of the people on the team were either socialists or those from a more working-class background, people who had been invested in the student demonstrations about inequality and political fraud. And so, whenever we finished practice or ended a friendly match, they would always talk about Marx in the locker room, saying that his view on labor was important for the future of sports. I tried to get a copy and read a few bits of Das Kapital at home, but I couldn’t get it at all. So, when I went back and told them I didn’t get it by the next week after practice, they treated me like an idiot, saying that I had nothing going on in my head. ‘Oh, Sungchan, you’re in the economics program but couldn’t even understand Marx! Hah! That’s funny! That’s what the orthodox system does to you!’ They called me a fraud for playing a working-class sport as a private school kid, all because I had told them I didn’t understand a piece of text. That’s horrible!” 

“Yeah, that is horrible,” You repeated. 

“The thing is, though, their discussions were terrible, too. Empty nothingness by using big words to sound smart, when in reality, they probably misinterpreted what Marx wanted to say, too. Whenever I asked them to explain things to me, they never bothered to. Instead, they’d just get angry, as if expecting me to know all these things by default. Can you believe it?” 

“Yeah, I can, that’s the type of crowd that the underground lectures and student movements often attract,” You replied. 

“Our former captain, who’s now graduated, called me a dumbass with nothing but brawn for my brain, asking me how I live my life the way I do now? That did it. I know I’m not the smartest, and even though I went to a private school, I was also from a working-class background. I am well aware that it’s the working class that keeps the world running and that the working class gets exploited by the bourgeoisie. I don’t think Marx envisioned a revolution where people just throw big, fancy words at each other that others can’t understand? That’s a shitty social revolution if you ask me. How the hell are you able to move people with difficult words that they can’t understand? I believe that if a certain group of people are being exploited, then we have to do all we can to stop it, that’s why I keep asking questions, to know more and to understand how the world works so we can try to make it a better place. Do you think I’m stupid, or what?” 

“No, you’re very much right.”

“A-ha! Those guys are total frauds! All they have in mind is using these big words to impress girls that they run into after our matches. When they graduate, they won’t give a single crap about the class struggle or whatever socialist mumbo jumbo they were preaching! They’d just don a suit and find work in large companies! They’d marry pretty, upper-class wives who have never read a single word of Marx in their life, get kids, drive fast, fancy cars, and give them Western names that are so ridiculous that it makes you want to laugh. Smash the education complex? Fight against election fraud? What bullshit! The newer recruits were just as bad. They didn’t know a single thing about Marx. They just sat there silently in the locker room and pointed fingers at me whenever I asked a question. Then, they told me, ‘Hyung, just agree with whatever they say, it’s easier that way.’ Makes my blood boil.”

You laughed, watching the sparkle in his eyes fester with vigor. “So, what happened after that?” 

“Most of the upperclassmen had graduated by the time I got the position of vice-captain. Since then, I told the new recruits to never talk about things like Marx in the locker room and to treat each other with respect. ‘Ask Hyung if you need anything, and I won’t haze or bully you about it.’ I told them that. Things have been better since, but the captain still wants to keep the so-called revolution going. Something about keeping the original root of the sport and the integrity of the game aligned with the class struggle. Shut the fuck up. God, if ever any of those assholes ran into you, they’d probably beat you up or shoot you because you understood Marx far better than they did.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, believe me. I know what I’m talking about. I’m working class. Revolution or not, the working class will always be the ones scraping by. I mean, look at those communist revolutions happening in Africa! I don’t know too much, but tell me why they’re still poor even after some big guy comes in and says he can change the country! It’s because he uses stupid, big words that nobody can understand! Then, they’d hike up taxes for so-called ‘government expenses,’ when in reality, they’re just inflating their pockets with more money and gold. Tell me, have you ever seen the taxman?” 

“No, never,”

“Well, I have. Too many times. They come in barging into your door with their stupid papers, acting like big game. ‘Oh, how is take out a business expense? Show me all your receipts right now!’ And we can’t even say anything back, or else my dad will go to jail! We even have to give them nice teas and snacks! No matter how cruel they are, though, I will tell you one thing: My dad is an honest man. He has never cheated on his taxes, and he keeps records just as well as he’s maintained the shop since it was handed over to him. If you tell that to the taxman, though, he won’t believe you. He’ll just dig and dig and dig. ‘What’s this ledger?’ ‘Isn’t income looking a little low in this quarter?’ And I wanted to scream to them, scream so loud: Hey asshole! Income isn’t looking too good because we’re not making any money with this stupid business! Go dig into our shop when we make some real cash!”

“The worst part is that they won’t change even after a revolution,” You signed.

“Exactly. Fuck the revolution. It’s just a bunch of bullshit. The only thing I’ll ever believe in is love.”

“I got somewhere to be,” Sungchan said. 

“This early?” 

“Yeah, I have to go to the hospital. My dad’s there, so it’s my turn to look after him,” 

“Wait, I thought he was in Thailand?”

“I lied.” Sungchan said flatly. “I mean, he’s been screaming about it, but he’s not even in a condition to leave Seoul.”

“How bad is he?” You asked. 

“I don’t know, give it a few months? Maybe two?” He replied. The two of you walked on in deathly silence. It was a matter of time until the two of you reached the bottom of the slope, head first into the large, glass doors of Seoul National University Hospital. 

“He’s got the same one my mother had,  just with a different genitalia because he’s a man. God, I don’t know if you can sexually transmit cancer, but can you believe it? Four years after cervical cancer, my dad suddenly gets testicular.”

Once the two of you entered the corridors, the stench of antiseptic wafted in the air. The hospital was busy and crowded for a Sunday, with several lines in the reception and elevators consisting of weekend visitors and patients walking about in wheelchairs or IV drips. The sweet scent of flowers slightly permeated the air, with an inkling of urine and old mattresses. Nurses walked past the two of you, pushing large trays of food, the soles of their shoes rubbing into the floor as they quickened their pace. 

Sungchan’s father was in a room shared with four other patients. His bed was right by the large, open window. Upon inspection, it was difficult to tell if he was breathing and even harder to tell if he was human. Though he was stretched out, the rest was shriveled up like a raisin, cheeks hollow to the touch and eyes covered in folded lids that were always closed. 

Today, he was lying on his side, skinny, bony arms limp and flat on the white bed covers. There were several tubes and needles attached to him, and it was difficult to see him as the kind of man who was once as tall and mighty as his son. The constant drip of the plastic bags only gave you the impression that he could only shrivel up more than he already endured.

For a brief second, you saw his eyes fling open as if aware of Sungchan’s presence and only keeping them open as a greeting that was established between father and son. It didn’t take a doctor or a medical practitioner of any sort to know that he was going to die soon. At least, in part, all it took for you was, in brevity, seeing the rims of his eyes glow a shade of pinkish red, drifting back and forth with the blur of cataracts in his pupils that refused to show him the colors and lines of the world he once saw. There was absolutely no sign of life or direction in his second-long gaze, and even if you were to inflate him like an air balloon with life, it felt to you like there was a punctured hole somewhere in him that oozed out life no matter how hard you tried to pump it in him. It was a short stretch from here to the end—a waiting game of slow decay and demolition. Despite this, though, his thin, white goatee continued to grow like stray bristles on a brush, and you wondered why he grew an impressive one when all other signs of life escaped his body and mind. 

Sungchan greeted each patient by popping his head through the curtains. One lady of about sixty with all her curtains open nodded and smiled in return, dry, flaky lips sealed with a lack of moisture. She tried to suppress a cough a few times, then returned to her bed to shift her weightless form to face the door. 

The view from the window was bleak in comparison to the one the two of you experienced in the middle of the residential area’s slopes. The only thing you could see from Sungchan’s father’s window was a large, electricity pole that covered the sky. 

“How are you feeling, dad?” Sungchan asked, leaning closer until his lips were right next to his father’s ear. His father shook his head and muttered a groan, as any word he formed in his head remain stuck in his throat, choking him dry. 

“Headache?” Sungchan asked, touching his own head. His father nodded in return, trying to open his mouth but to no avail. 

“Well, no wonder,” he muttered. “You’ve just got your balls removed, and they’ve injected you with so much medicine that your head will pound. Of course, your head will hurt. Too bad, but please, try to be brave. Oh, and this is my friend,” 

“Nice to meet you,” You said. Sungchan’s father tried to open his mouth, then proceeded to close it shut again. 

Sungchan pulled a seat from his father’s foldable table and gestured for you to sit. You hesitated a little until he grabbed your arm and pulled you into one of the plastic chairs next to his father’s bed. Sungchan then gave his father a few sips of water, asking him if he would like any food. His father shook his head, and when Sungchan stubbornly insisted that he needed to eat, his father opened his eyes briefly, moving his pupils to point at the food left at the head of his bed. 

Sungchan hoisted a large duffel bag under the table, taking out a change of clothes and underwear, straightening them out, and putting them inside a drawer by his father’s bedside lamp. Once he reached the bottom of the bag, he fished out two packs of dried seaweed, a couple of fruit jellies, and two slices of cream-filled sponge cakes. 

“Fucking hell, really? Cake?! Feeding a man pumped with chemo cake?! I told that asshole exactly what I wanted him to buy! Porridge with vegetables, not cake!” Sungchan exclaimed, angrily shoving some of the food back into the bag. 

“That’s… a weird mixup.”

“Weird indeed. God, he’s insufferable.” Sungchan said. “Dad, want some cake?” 

His father didn’t respond. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” Sungchan repeated louder, resulting in a firm no that his father was able to mouth. 

“How about you?” Sungchan turned to ask you. 

“I’m also alright,” You answered. 

After sitting with Sungchan and his father for a while, Sungchan took you to the smoking area outside of the hospital and slipped a cigarette between his lips, crossing his arms tightly as he held the filter with his fingers. Some of the patients in hospital gowns were also outside, smoking while counting the cars that passed by the entrance’s driveway. 

“That old woman in the wheelchair keeps looking at me. The one over there, with the glasses and a pink nightgown,” Sungchan whispered, eyes twinkling. 

“I don’t know, what more do you want me to say? ‘Oh, Sungchan, you’re so handsome that all the ajhummas in the hospital want you!’ Do you want me to say that?” 

“Maybe seeing a handsome guy such as myself keeps them with things to think about. You know, get them all excited. I be they haven’t felt like that in a long time.” 

“Seriously?” You sighed. Sungchan stared at the smoke that swirled from his cigarette. 

“You know,” Sungchan started, fishing his hands in his pocket and slipping another cigarette from the pack into his mouth. “He’s not so bad. He can say terrible things, but deep down, he really loved my mom with such intensity, even though he’s a little timid and cannot run a business properly. People don’t really like him because he can be blunt at times, but he’s definitely a lot better than the frauds out there who go around thinking they’re tough shit for knowing big words or being in a gang. I’m just as stubborn as he is, so we tend to fight a lot, but he’s not a bad guy.”

Sungchan took your hand as if it were fragile, carefully placing it on his lap. He used his thumbs to rub your palm in repeated circles, eyes looking into yours for over a minute. 

“Sorry to bring you here out of all places, but can you stay with me for a bit longer?” He asked, a soft tinge in his voice begging for you to stay. 

“I can stay with you for as long as you want. I mean, I did say I’m free on Sundays.” You replied with a smile. 

“What do you usually do? You know, apart from reading the daily paper and sipping coffee at five in the goddamn morning.” 

“Laundry?” You replied. 

“What about your boyfriend?”

“Same as you. I don’t really know if I could call him that, and it’s really complicated right now. I don’t really know how to explain it,”

“That’s alright, but do you mind me asking what I think is going on?” Sungchan asked. 

“Sure, I bet it’s miles more interesting than the truth,”

“He’s married, isn’t he?” Sungchan said, unwavering confidence in his voice that convinced you otherwise that his grand fantasies could maybe become a reality. “Forty or something, rich, and was once handsome. Drives foreign cars like a Benz or a BMW and wears shoes made of pure leather, with suits hand-tailored for him from the most expensive department stores here in Seoul. He’s hungry for lust, and he’s into super kinky things. The two of you meet after your shift at the library on weekdays and do all sorts of things to each other's bodies: he ties you up in crazy positions, puts a gag on you, has different kinds of whips, and you sit there enjoying all of that. His wife and kids have Sundays to themselves to eat big dinners and spend time together. That’s why he can’t see you then. Is that correct?” 

“Interesting,” 

“He loves taking pictures of you, too, and has a really expensive camera that he uses to take all sorts of pictures of you in many positions, including when he puts all sorts of weird things inside of you. It’s like every single time you meet him, he gets kinkier. He’s always planning what type of toys and liquids he’d use on you, and he makes you come at least three times in crazy positions that break your legs and twist your body. He then talks about how because he’s older, he’s more experienced, and that you’ll never ever find the same satisfaction in younger boys anymore because he’s satisfied you so much. Makes you feel good.” 

“I think you frequent the porn cinemas too much,” You flatly replied, dreading the next few words that would come out of his mouth with a twisted, mild curiosity. 

“I do, actually. I was kind of worried that I come off that way, but if you want, we can go to a screening sometime soon,”

“Alright, when you’re free,” You said. 

“You’re not joking?” Sungchan asked with an ecstatic shock in his voice that you had never heard from him before, as if you were the first person who had acknowledged his presence in his whole life. 

“Nope. Show me what sort of things you watch.”

“Alright, there’s a BDSM one with pee and shit everywhere. Some pirated German one they found. I’ve never seen it yet, but I do like watching the ones that are a bit more deranged. It’s interesting.” 

“Sounds fun,”

“My favorite ones are the gang bang scenes, because you think to yourself ‘How the hell do they get seven people to fuck each other like that? Swallowing cum and pee at the same time?’ It’s like going to a cafeteria and having people all drink water super loud at the same time!”

When the two of you returned to the hospital room, Sungchan filled the air with his chatty voice, only to be met with a dead wall of silence. The only thing he could get out from his father was a firm nod, a shake, or a grunt—and, if he was lucky, a string of groans. Two hours had passed, and an old, healthy man, presumably the old woman's husband with her curtains all opened, came inside the room to change her gown and peel some fruits for her. Despite the signs of age, he was a tall, athletic-looking man—somewhat stocky but firm in muscle. His face was inviting and kind, and his smile emphasized the lines on his cheeks, brightening him back ten years or so. He shared a lot of small talk with Sungchan, and by the time the two had started talking, a nurse arrived with a tray of needles and medicine, speaking to Sungchan while the old man excused himself out the door. Your eyes wandered around the room towards the window, tracing the trajectory of the electricity pole’s power lines. Every now and then, crows would perch on the lines, elongating their necks in surveillance of the whole neighborhood. Sungchan talked to his father and wiped the sweat around his body, helping him spit phlegm into a trash can occasionally while chatting with the old man, who came back and exchanged pleasantries with you. 

The doctors usually did their rounds at the hour, so you stepped outside with Sungchan in the corridor. When one of them came out, Sungchan’s eyes widened, and he rushed to his side, greeting him with a firm bow and asking him how his father was doing. 

“He seems fine after the surgery, obviously drained from energy, but we’ll still need a few days to assess him and evaluate the results of the operation. If he’s alright by then, he can probably go home, and if not, we’ll discuss further with your brother,” The doctor said. 

“Are you not gonna take his other ball?”

“If you put it that way, then it depends. We can’t know until we’ve seen the results,”

A patient’s condition and prognosis were challenging to tell with doctors. Though you didn’t know too much, it was always the impression that you got from them. Armed with a clipboard that tells you more about yourself than you will ever know in your entire lifespan, yet shrouded in ciphers, you must decode through medical language and terms you would’ve never encountered. There was simply no easy way to tell if you were doing well or not when the doctor couldn’t even give a concrete answer. It was always the good news followed by the bad or the bad followed by a string of intricate phrases and words that you couldn’t care much about as soon as you left the hospital. 

With Sungchan’s father, though, everything was transparent. It was almost as if you could see his fate through the reflection of the glasses that kept inching closer and closer to the doctor’s nose. No matter how much he pushed it up, it always slid down the bridge and onto the tip of his nose, where it dangled until he had to push it up again. He should probably throw those out and switch to contacts. 

After the doctor finished his rounds, a nurse entered the room, pushing a trolley with trays stacked on each other. Sungchan took one and carefully balanced it on his long arms, placing it down after reclining his father’s seat upright. He gently took the hot bowl of congee onto the makeshift table, then used a butter knife to slice up some fruits and debone the boiled fish that came with his father’s meal. With each spoonful he gave to his father, the life that had been drained out of him slowly came back. After four or so spoonfuls, he had enough to slowly raise his hand and stop the spoon from entering his mouth. 

No more, he mouthed. 

“God, you're hopeless, aren’t you? If you don’t eat more, you’re gonna die! You need to have your intestines functioning at least, so you can shit properly and not get constipated,” Sungchan complained, but to no avail. His father fervently shook his head, and Sungchan gave up, proceeding to turn his attention back to you with a tired frown. 

“Come, let’s go down to the cafeteria,” he requested. 

You promptly nodded and followed him down the elevator, letting your nose adjust to the stench of antiseptic that wafted across the entire building. Once the two of you reached the cafeteria on the ground floor, he offered to buy you some sandwiches and rice balls, but you declined. You couldn’t bring yourself to have an appetite when the entire cafeteria was packed with doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors. All the conversations that wafted and stayed in the air all talked about sickness, never health. It passed through you like a tunnel, where one after the other, another form or fragment of injury seemed to fill your head with the worst fate that terminal illness could offer. Every so often, the PA system would slice through the cafeteria with screeching static for a patient or a staff member. 

When Sungchan returned with two portions of rice, cabbage stew, and ban chan, you tried your best to chew half of it, leaving the rest for him to finish. He didn’t look up throughout his lunch, nodding with glee as he hounded his meal to the last mouthful. 

“You barely touched your food,” he asked. This was the first time he’s looked up since he came back with the meals. 

“I don’t know, I’m just not hungry,” you replied. 

“I get it. Hospitals don’t really equate to hunger, especially when you’re not used to the place. I mean, god, the smells! That antiseptic or whatever they use sure keeps you full. Being in an environment with so much stress, anxiety, disappointment, pain, and fatigue—that’s what does it to your stomach, grabbing your appetite and beating it to a pulp until it’s dead. The thing is, though, it’s not a problem once you get used to it. And you can’t really take care of someone when you’re hungry. I know this. I was on an empty stomach when my grandpa was at the hospital for cancer, and then I ate a little when my grandma was here. By the time it got to my mom, I got the routine in my head and ate before going to the hospital. Now, it’s my dad. By this point, I’m too used to coming here, and I can eat here just fine. You never know when you’re gonna have to basically live here, so it’s important to eat when you can.”

“That makes sense,” you nodded. 

“Whenever our relatives come to visit, they leave their food just like you. Then they tell me that I’m strong because I can eat despite being upset. What a load of crap! I’m the only one taking care of him! All they have to do is come every now and then and drop their faux sympathies! I’m the one who wipes his ass and makes sure his balls don’t hurt! I helped change his IV drips and fed him! If sympathy were all it took to clean his shit up, then he would be better by now! Instead, they see me eating here and say all that crap about me being strong. What the hell do they think they are? I mean, they’re old enough to know how this world works, so why are they so dumb? It’s so easy to talk big unless you’re not in the position of wiping some old guy’s ass up. Like, do they not think this hurts me just as much, if not more? Do they not think about it hurting so much that I just want to cry? How do they think I feel when I watch a horde of doctors cut my dad’s balls up, doing it again and again? To top it all off, you see your savings depleted. I was lucky enough to make it to my third year, but what then? He’ll surely die before I graduate, and that’s one more year! At this rate, I don’t even think my brother can afford to get married!” 

“How many times do you come here?” You asked, taking a soup spoon to stir some of the cold stew in your tray. 

“Depends. Usually four times a week, and they do promise all-around care from the nurses, but there’s too much for them to do around here. It’s an understaffed hospital. Some of our relatives come here to help. My brother’s got the shop, and I have to finish university. Even then, he comes here three times a week, and we sneak in past visiting hours when we can. It’s a full commitment, I tell you,” 

“How do you have time to spend with me when you’re so busy?” 

“I enjoy spending time with you,” Sungchan said with a smile. 

“Get out of here. Take a walk or something, I don’t know, just leave. I’ll take care of your father,” you demanded. At this point, you were already stood up. You had both trays in your hands with all the rubbish piled up on Sungchan’s empty bowls. He remained seated, eyes widening enough to encase all the fluorescent lights’ reflections into his brown, swirling irises. 

“What, why?” 

“You need to leave the hospital. It’s not helping you relax,” you explained, sighing. “You need something that can clear your mind up, even just by a little bit,” 

As he prepared his body to stand up from his chair, he sank again, allowing his back to merge with the flimsy plastic touching his bare neck. After a minute, he stood up again and nodded. 

“Do you know what to do, though? It’s a lot of work,”

“I think so. I’ve been watching you do it, and I think I got it. Check the IV drip, give him water, wipe his sweat off, and adjust his oxygen mask occasionally when he coughs, making sure they collect the phlegm. If he gets hungry, I feed him some jellies or the rest of his lunch on the bedside table. If I don’t know what to do, I’ll just ask the nurse,”

“Perfect,” Sungchan replied, grinning from ear to ear. “There’s just one thing, though: he can say weird shit because of all the medication, some jibberish that no one can understand. If he says anything that hurts you, try to ignore it. It’s not him, it’s the medication.” 

“Got it,” you saluted. 

Once the two of you were back in the room, Sungchan told his father that he had someone from the soccer team to phone and that you would be watching him while he sorted things out with the team. His father didn’t move or open his mouth. You figured it didn’t concern him if it had nothing to do with him. He remained lying on his back, eyes shut while his head was cocked up to the white ceiling. Had he not periodically opened his eyes to blink once in a while, you could’ve sworn he had flatlined. 

Whenever he did muster the courage to open his eyes, they were stained with swirls of red, making him look hungover. His nostrils noticeably flared up and down whenever he breathed, and his eyebrows would twitch whenever he had to open his eyes. Besides that, he had little to no movement, and he never tried to respond to Sungchan. 

After Sungchan had left the room, you didn’t know what to say to his father, let alone how to start a conversation with someone who didn’t give you a response. So, you kept quiet for a while, watching him slowly succumb to sleep. You took one of the chairs by the window and leaned closer to look at the way his nose twitched, hoping that he wouldn’t die while you were here. How would it feel to have a strange woman your son had brought to die by your side?

It was easier to sympathize with the dead than a vegetable. 

He was, alas, not dying. He was simply sleeping peacefully, with gargled breath and a twitching nose. You brought your ears closer to his face, hearing his faint, weak breathing. Heaving a sigh of relief, you got up and greeted the husband of the old woman next door. The only thing that came out of his mouth was any good word about Sungchan, assuming you were his girlfriend. 

“Sungchan’s a really good guy,” he said. “He takes care of his father, and he’s so kind and sensitive. To top it all off, he has a face of an actor. I’m sure he treats you right, and always be by his side. He’s going through a tough time right now, and I’m sure you won’t find anyone like him.”

“I try my best to treat him right,” you replied casually. 

“I have kids at home. One’s eighteen, just out of high school, and the other, twenty-two, probably around you and Sungchan’s age. Neither of them want to visit! They said the hospital smells, and the minute they’re out of school, they never think twice about visiting. They just play around, go on dates, go on with their lives. They only come around to ask me for some pocket money.” 

About an hour had passed, and the man got up to wave goodbye. You didn’t know if he would come back, but you could see that both Sungchan’s father and the old woman were deep in sleep. The gentle, marmalade rays of the sunlight poured into the room, and the warmth that wafted in the air made you feel like you were slowly drifting into a benign, mindless nap. The faded pink of the Dahlias by the old woman’s bedside drawer signaled the end of the summer, and the remnants of boiled fish swirled around the room. You could hear the low chatter of the nurses just outside in the hallway, sneakers squeaking and squealing with the wagons they had to push back and forth throughout their shift. Every so often, one of the nurses would poke her head into the room, quietly sliding the door to glance around. Then, they would flash you a small smile. You wished there was a magazine or a newspaper that you could pick up and read to kill time, but there was nothing of the sort nearby, and you didn’t want to bother any of the nurses when you weren’t even a patient at the hospital. 

Oddly, the hospital reminded you of Eunseok. Perhaps it was because of Ujeong Inn, but you could picture him wearing nothing underneath the blanket in one of the beds. You thought of the softness of his jet-black hair and the lean, bony muscles that felt fragile between your fingertips. Then, you wondered why he was here, of all places. The more you thought of him, the less apparent his existence seemed—almost like a wavering, hazy fantasy you conjured up in a daze. And the more you thought of him, the more uncertain you became of the night you spent with him at Ujeong Inn. If you told yourself that it did happen, then it did, and if you thought of it as a daydream, then it was just that, a daydream. Some of the details felt too real for it to be anything you could think of, but too ethereal to have been based in actuality. 

Eunseok and the moonlight; an trick of the eye that trickled to the hairs of your skin. 

Sungchan’s father suddenly stirred up, raspy breaths accompanying a dry heave. You quickly snapped out of your daydream and helped him spit his phlegm out into a handkerchief, disposing of it before coming back to wipe his sweat with a fresh towel. 

“Would you like some water?” You asked. He responded with a weak, but firm nod. You poured some of the water from a plastic bottle into his glass, and controlled his sips a little at a time. 

It was difficult for you to discern if he wanted more or if he wanted you to stop. It seems that larger movements physically hurt him. 

“More?” You asked. He shook his head. 

“Are you hungry? What about some fruits?” 

He shook his head again. You wiped his mouth with the same towel and adjusted the bed flatly before taking the trays and cutlery onto the visitor’s table. 

“Was the food good?” You asked. He fervently shook his head, then deepening the wrinkles of his eyebrows. 

“I know, I know,” you tried to sympathize with him. Sungchan’s father indecisively opened and closed his eyes as he lay completely flat on the bed, turning his head to face you. Did he know who you were? Had Sungchan talked about you to him on his last visits? He seemed quite relaxed to be laying next to a stranger, and he was definitely quieter with you than he ever was with Sungchan. Perhaps he thinks you’re Sungchan? Or someone else? 

“It’s a nice day out,” you started, resting your chin on your palm as you crossed your legs. “Winter’s coming soon, but the temperature hasn’t dropped significantly. It’s still warm enough for me to do my laundry outside, and you’re better off here than out in the city. The pollution’s getting worse because of more factories built up in the East, and the crowds! My god, they’re exhausting to deal with. I’d rather stay home and iron my clothes. I used to be bad at it, almost burning my shirts, but I’ve gotten better. Now, I can make things look perfect, and none of my clothes have any wrinkles on them at all! Spotless and brand new! Today was a perfect day for laundry and ironing, but that’s okay, I can wake up early tomorrow morning and take care of it all. Sundays are always free, and I always have nothing to do.” 

“When I sort out my laundry tomorrow, I go to class with Sungchan. We take a lot of classes together, but econometrics is the one we’re taking tomorrow. It’s nothing really interesting, and I don’t particularly enjoy it. It’s just statistics adapted to fit economics, and most of the stuff we do, like regression analysis, has already been done and mastered in some of the more math-intensive courses.” 

“What I enjoy in most of my courses is reading essays by economists who think beyond the scope of what we think the economy encompasses. I find that economics works better with the math all removed, even if most scholars say it’s the math that adds a solid foundation to it. Sure, I do agree to a certain extent, but you can’t quantify real-life behaviors. I mean, how are we supposed to calculate every one's utility when every person has a different level of satisfaction? People also don’t seem to take into account the difference in culture. I mean, yeah, the American model of capitalism and consumerism relies on so-called notions of freedom of choice, but Korean society consists of savers. We have been taught to save for a very long time, and that’s one thing we can’t erase. It’s rude to spend, and because of that, we can’t just adopt capitalism as a structure. We need to be aware of what makes us different from the rest, and then think about adapting to a new type of accumulation that stimulates overall growth without throwing away the lessons that we’ve been taught by our ancestors. That has nothing to do with econometrics, but that’s pretty much the kind of stuff Sungchan and I study at university,” 

Sungchan’s father had said nothing, keeping his dim eyes on you the entire time you were talking. Of course, it was difficult to tell if he actually understood anything you said to him. 

“Alright, I’ll go now,” 

Sungchan’s father responded in a way that made you remember that he was once a human capable of speech. 

“No, please stay,” he whispered through the lumps of phlegm on his throat. After conversing with yourself, you nodded and returned to your seat, feeling parched and starved. You didn’t eat anything for breakfast and ate half your lunch. Now, you regretted not being able to finish your portion, but you realized quickly that feeling sorry for yourself wouldn’t help you at all. You stood up again and reassured the man that you were staying put, unzipping the large duffel bag by the foot of his bed for something to eat. Rummaging through the pockets and corners of the bag, you only fished out some cough drops and an unopened pack of instant congee. Then, your eyes flicked back onto the slices of cake that were just beside you on the table. 

“Do you mind if I eat this piece of cake? I’m getting a bit hungry,” you asked. Sungchan’s father didn’t answer. You took a slice of chocolate cake and pulled a small, heaping piece with your fingers, careful not to leave any icing between your nails. 

“Delicious, but decadent. Too much cream, and it’s a little too sweet! I think they got this from the French bakery that just opened near the station,” you remarked. You scraped off more of the icing and siphoned off a second heaping—this time, a larger mouthful than the first. The only thing you could hear in the room was your teeth gnawing at the soft sponge. After this mouthful, you decided to take a break, taking another fresh towel from the bag to wipe your fingers. You boiled some water in a kettle by the end of the corridor and made tea for the two of you. 

“Do you want something to drink?” You asked, coming back with two mugs filled with corn tea. 

“Cake,” he whispered. 

“Alright, a small slice like that will do. What side do you want? The end bits with more cream, or the middle with more sponge?” 

“Sponge,” he replied with a nod. You adjusted the bed again to how Sungchan had left it when he felt his father. Then, you used a pair of disposable chopsticks from the duffel bag to cut the cake in quarters, flying it into the patient’s mouth like an airplane. After a stern, unreadable expression, Sungchan’s father’s mouth moved from cheek to cheek, finally swallowing the piece after a while. 

“Is that good?” He nodded. 

“Things are better when food tastes good, no? Tasting good food and feeling good about it is kind of proof that you’re alive,” 

He had an entire slice of cake. After he was finished, you filled his glass with water and controlled his sips. He motioned for the bathroom as soon as he was done with his glass, so you took a cup from the foot of his bed and held it under his penis. When he signaled to you that he was done, you emptied its contents in the toilet and washed the cup clean. By the time you came back, you could only throw the tea out where his urine went. 

“How are you feeling now?” You asked. 

“Head… hurts.” He replied. 

“I mean, you did have an operation. I’ve never had one in my entire life, so I don’t know what it’s like.”

“Gongdeok ticket to Sungchan,” he suddenly whispered, saying more than you believed he was capable of. 

“Gongdeok,” he repeated. “Sungchan,”

“Gongdeok?”

“Please,” he said. “Sungchan” 

You couldn’t connect or decipher what he said, so you kept quiet. He, too, was silent for a while. Occasionally, he would muster the exact words again: Gongdeok, ticket, Sungchan. He opened his eyes, peering at you as if demanding your full attention. You knew he was trying to tell you something, but you couldn’t begin to imagine what was so important for you to know. 

All you knew then was that any sign of lifelessness was suddenly animated in his deep, pressing gaze. He now had the strength to raise his arm at you and gripped your wrist tight. This must have had an incredible effect on him, so you returned the favor by slipping your hand in his. With what little remaining strength he could muster, he squeezed your hand and mouthed the word please, now even quieter than a whisper or a secret. 

“No worries, I’ll go take care of Sungchan and Gongdeok,” you responded haphazardly. Then, he suddenly fell flat, chest heaving up and down as a faint snore drifted into your ears. You put two of your fingers next to his lymph nodes to check if he was alive, then, once you felt a pulse, headed out to the hallway for a quick walk. The moment you slid the door of the room shut and allowed the change in environment to settle within you, you realized that you’d grown a liking for this old, shriveled man on the verge of death. 

The old man came back a few moments later, greeting you in the hallway to ask if everything was alright. The only thing you could give him was a frail nod, then excusing yourself to meet Sungchan outside. 

Before you could descend the stairs, you saw him extend a wave toward you at the bottom of the staircase, quickly jogging up to catch up with you. 

“I was just in the parking lot, counting the cars until I fell asleep.” He started. “I did what you told me to do. I just sat there and let my head get empty.”

“How are you feeling now?” You asked. 

“Much better. I’m still tired, but I feel lighter than I ever felt before. I think I’m more tired than I realize.” 

Sungchan’s father was now fast asleep, and there was nothing for the two of you to do, so you went back down to the cafeteria to buy coffee, then stepped out again to smoke. You filled Sungchan in with what happened after he left—that his father slept soundly, then woke up to eat his lunch and a whole slice of cake, then peed. 

“No way, no fucking way.” Sungchan said, startled. “You got him to finish his dinner tray and have him eat half a piece of cake! That’s amazing!” 

“We were all out here going nuts over him starving himself and refusing any food he gave us, but you got him to finish his food!”

“I think he just saw me enjoy the cake and wanted some too,” 

“Either that or you have this thing in you that just relaxes people,”

“Doubt it, I think a lot of people say I’m unsettling,” you laughed. 

“So?” Sungchan asked, shifting the bottle of canned coffee between his hands. “What did you think about my dad?” 

“He’s nice. I mean, I couldn’t have a proper conversation with him, but he seems nice.” 

“He was quiet, wasn’t he?” 

“Very.”

“God, he was much worse a week ago. He went wild in there! Throwing his food around and shit. Telling us that he hoped we’d die. Cancer does that to people. It’s probably the fact that chemo literally kills your cells, but it was the same with my mom. At the last part of her illness, when she was on the brink of death, she yelled at me and said I wasn’t his son. Deep down, I know it wasn’t her, but it affected me so much that I couldn’t bring myself to see her for a while. To think your own mother would say something distasteful, right?” 

“I get it,” you replied, then suddenly remembered the string of words that Sungchan’s father had uttered. 

“A ticket to Gongdeok? What the hell is he trying to say?” 

“Then he said ‘Please’ and ‘Sungchan.’ He either meant, ‘Please take care of Sungchan,’ or he wanted you to go to Gongdeok and buy a ticket. It was such a mess that I couldn’t understand any of it, but who knows? Does Gongdeok ring any bells?” 

Sungchan pondered on the collection of words for while. 

“The only thing I can think of was running away from home, then going to Gongdeok to take the airport link to Gimpo. Back then, when I was ten or so, I was stupid enough to think I could just buy a plane ticket at the desk. I’d heard about a nice aunt who lived in America, so I went to the airport, went to a desk, and asked for a ticket to America, but she refused! Said she would call my house, and I refused to give her an address! Soon enough, though, my dad came to pick me up from Gimpo and then bought me lunch at the airport. He talked to me about all sorts of things, like the war and how he was exempt from conscription because of his astigmatism but still served military service when he was young. Come to think of it, that was the only time I’ve ever had a long conversation with him. God, I wonder what he was like in military service. Lord knows if I’d be like him when I serve.”

“Aren’t you supposed to serve now?” You asked.

“Who knows? I haven’t been called on yet. I think it has something to do with my mom dying, and now my dad being ill. My brother was unlucky, though, he finished his service right as my mom got diagnosed, so he came home from all of that chaos only to find more at home. Anyway, on the train, he told me all sorts of stories. Stuff about the Japanese in Korea, the Americans coming to Seoul, and then, Vietnam! I didn’t even know where that was as a kid, but all his stories always ended with him saying something like, ‘Sungchan, the world’s the same everywhere we go.’ A bit of a depressing conclusion to say to a ten-year-old, but his stories really impressed me.” 

“I see,”

“See what?”

“Why your dad said that,” you muttered under your breath. 

“Did you ever run away from home?” Sungchan asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“No,”

“Why not?” 

“Never thought about it,”

“God, you’re weird!” He exclaimed, as if impressed by your every answer. “Every kid has that point in their life, no?”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“So, what did you say to my dad after that?” 

“I just said I’d take care of you and Gongdeok.”

“Really? You told him you’d take care of me?”

Sungchan looked you straight in the eyes with a grave expression. 

“Yeah, I did, but I really didn’t know what he was saying, and—”

“Don’t worry, I get what you’re trying to say,” he laughed. 

After Sungchan had finished his cigarette, the two of you returned to the room. His father was still fast asleep, and you could still hear his faint snores falling up and down into your ears, as if you had pressed them near his mouth. As the skies turned violet, the lights in the hospital flicked to a dim shade of yellow, reflecting the colors of dead leaves. The flock of birds once perched on the utility pole had all fluttered away. You and Sungchan sat by the window next to his father’s bed, trying your best to exchange words in low conversation. He took the empty mug where you dumped out your cold tea and attempted to read the fortune written in the black specs that adorned the white ceramic, and told you that you would go past a hundred, get your heart broken in a divorce, then die. At the same time, everyone watched you get a heart attack in the grocery store. 

Sungchan’s father woke up at dusk, and Sungchan took his chair, moving it next to his father’s bedside drawer. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, gave him some water straight out of the bottle, and asked him about any pains in his body. A nurse had come by a few moments later to take his temperature, record any of his vitals, and check the IV drips for any faults. You returned to the cafeteria and watched the news on the television. 

After an hour, you returned and told Sungchan you were leaving. To his father, you told him that you had to go back home to study. He turned his head towards you and twitched the corners of his mouth. 

“Thank you so much for today,” Sungchan said when he walked you to the exit. 

“I mean, I didn’t really do anything at all, to be honest, but I’ll come by next week. I’d like to see your father again,” you said. 

“Really?” 

“Being alone in that apartment can get to me from time to time, and who knows? Your brother might bring cake again,”

Sungchan folded his arms and tapped his feet. 

“Well, I’d like to go out with you again,” he said, a valiant smirk etched on his face. 

“What about the porn cinema you promised?”

“We can do that first and then go out to eat while talking about the usual disgusting things that we talk about,”

“You’re the one who brings it up!”

“Sounds like a plan, no? Get super drunk in the afternoon and then pass out in bed,”

“What other fantasies do you have in mind?” 

“We’ll see,” you replied defeatedly. “But I’ll pick you up next week. I’ll try to beat the daily papers, and we can come here together.” 

With that, you bade Sungchan farewell.

post mortem: THIS IS PART TWO OF NEVER MEANT. I REPEAT. PART TWO! GO READ THAT ONE IF YOU HAVEN'T YET. PART THREE COMING SOON

[barefoot-joker]

Snake in the Garden Pt 5~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys! Welcome back to Snake in the Garden! I do apologize for my long absence. College has started back up; my depression has been kicking my butt and writing block for this chapter were just a few reasons for the delay. However, I'm back with a bang! I highly recommend reading the warnings on this chapter as it does get a bit intense. Oh, and from the bottom of my heart: thank you all so much for supporting this fanfiction! I cherish every like, reblog and read every comment posted on each chapter. I plan to have multiple parts after this one, so I hope you stay. Also, the taglist is open, so if you'd like to be added don't hesitate to comment! As always, have a great day/night and enjoy part five!

Words: 9626

Warnings: Swearing (more than usual), Non-Con Touching, Non-Con Kissing, Non-Con Sexual Advances/Harassment, Reader is forced to wear skimpy clothes, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Body Horror, Lots of Blood, Various Characters gain Trauma from Lucifer, Lucifer goes into Beast Mode, Lucifer's Obsession goes off the rails, Possessive treatment to Reader, Talk of hanging by snake, Kidnapping, Talk of watching someone die, Major Yandere Behavior from Lucifer, Reader gets Pushed Around, Reader gets put in a Cell, Degrading Name Calling-mainly to Reader, Talk of Cannibalism, Reference to Disturbing use of Body Parts, Talk of Sexual Actions, Talk of Drinking Blood, Reader Suffers Abundantly in this Chapter, Seriously who gave Lucifer a Sword

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

I gasped and my eyes widened as I stared at the two beings in my living room. The one who spoke was a larger man. He appeared to have a dad bod underneath his white, purple and gold robe. The black mask he wore had two large horns attached and his golden facial features held a smug look. Behind him stood a female. She too wore a black mask, her horns curled inwards. She appeared to be wearing a black tunic with black skin tight pants and light gray thigh high boots to match. The crude white stitched mouth scowled at me, almost acting like I was wasting her time. I gulped, both sets of eyes watching me like a hawk. “W-who are you? What do you want?”

The masked man set down his bag of Doritos (which I realized were from my cupboard) and offered a hand. “The name’s Adam, sweetheart. I’m the First Man.”

I looked down at his hand and then back at him. He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “If you’re the First Man, does that mean that Lucifer sent you to come get me?”

I stepped back in fear as he cackled, holding his stomach. “Heavens no! I hate that son of a bitch!”

I lowered my guard a bit. “If you’re not with him, why are you here?”

Adam stopped laughing and brushed his robe. “I’ve come to take you to Heaven with me.”

“But I have no business there. I’m not even dead!”

“I can grant you permission. Let’s say it's one of the perks of being a celebrity.”

He pointed his fingers at me as if they were guns and he clicked his tongue. I looked between him and his companion. She tilted her head towards her master as if to say take his hand. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Come on! Lucifer can’t touch you while you’re on Holy ground. And I have a funny feeling he’d like to get his claws on you, if you know what I’m saying.”

I cringed in disgust at what he was implying. “Besides, I can be your bodyguard! I have special privileges being famous after all. And my wingspan is bigger than Lucifers!”

I looked down at my engagement ring. The snake seemed to coil tight around my finger as the eye glimmered, daring me to trust in the Heavenly man’s words. I bit my lip and looked up at him, his female companion now by his side. The sword at her side glinted and I could picture it ramming into my fiance. I could see the light leave his eyes and blood spill down his snow white skin. The betrayal would show on his face as it had mine when he took me to Hell. I felt my lips twitch into a smile as I realized that maybe, just maybe, these two were my allies. My eyes met Adam’s and I gave a quick nod. “I’ll go with you.”

His smile curled up by his eyes. “Good choice, babe. Lute prepare the portal.”

“Yes, sir.”

The woman stepped forward and raised her sword to the sky. She began to draw a symbol that looked like a cross and chanted under her breath. “In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, let these three souls enter Heaven freely.”

As soon as she finished, gold mist began to circle the ceiling. It began to sprinkle down around us, causing me to sneeze. “Bless you.”

“Thanks.”

I looked up and was amazed to see a bright blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Sunlight streamed down and it felt warm on my skin. “It’s ready, sir.”

“C’mon, babe! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

“Wait!”

I brought my fingers around my ring and forced it off. Relief flooded my body as I set it on the coffee table and I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was finally free. “I’m ready now.”

I let out a squeak as he hoisted me up by my waist, his hand traveling a bit low to my butt. I didn’t have much time to think about it because his golden wings opened up and pushed us upwards. The wind from the angel’s wings swept my hair and I couldn’t help but let out a gasp. Even on a bright sunny day on Earth that sky couldn’t compare to Heaven’s. The blue of the sky was a bright baby blue and the clouds were the purest of white. I reached out a hand and laughed at how light the cloud felt passing through my fingers. “Beautiful isn’t it,” Adam questioned.

“It’s better than I could have ever imagined!”

“This isn’t even the best part.”

I focused my gaze ahead of us and my eyes widened. I could see a patch of clouds with bright pastel colored buildings, almost too bright to stare at. We landed on said patch and the mist surrounding the area brushed away, bowing to the First Man. Adam set me down and I was hesitant to place my full weight down. The cloud itself was soft and yet I didn’t fall through. Casting my eyes up, I saw a golden fence stretching a long distance that I couldn’t even begin to see the end of. In the middle was a set of golden doors creating a gate, pearls and diamonds adorning the bars. I gasped as I realized these were the Pearly Gates that people claimed to see as they passed on. As soon as it clicked, a short, blonde haired man with lightly saturated clothes and white wings appeared behind a podium. He flashed a smile with his pearly whites and beckoned us over. “Hiya! Welcome to Heaven! Can I get your name please?”

“Oh, um, Y/n L/n.”

He flipped to the appropriate page in his large book and when he found it he used his index finger to skim through all the names. He muttered under his breath as he searched, his eyebrows wrinkling after a few seconds. “Um, I’m not seeing you on my list. Perhaps you’re in the wrong place-”

“She’s with me, pretty boy.”

Adam crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. “I told you not to call me that. It’s Saint Peter. Besides, she has to be on my list if she’s passed on. She’s dead, right?”

“No, but-”

“Adam, you can’t just bring living people here! It’s against the rules! Oh my goodness, what if He finds out-”

“He won’t! Now let us in, jackass!”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that. I will not get in trouble again for your shenanigans!”

“You listen here-”

“What is going on here?”

All of us looked up to see two females flying down towards us. The one on the left was much taller than the one on the right. Both had gray dresses with purple and white accents. They landed in front of us and I could see them clearly. The one on the left appeared to be an adult woman with dark grayish brown skin. She had gray scaleras with white irises, long winged eyelashes and white freckles below her eyes. Her gray hair was long and was twisted into thick curls. A glowing white crown with blue jewels floated above her head as her black lips set in a frown. The one on the right looked like a child, her skin a lighter grayish brown tone. She too had white freckles under her blue eyes, the irises being an ombre of purple. Her light purple hair reached the hem of her dress and her black lips formed a pout. Both of their six white wings relaxed at their sides. “Sera, tell this dickhead to let us in! He has no right to keep us out here!”

“Sera, he brought in a human! One that has not yet passed on!”

The taller woman, Sera I assumed, raised her hand. “Enough. Let the girl speak on her own terms.”

Everyone turned their gaze towards me and I could feel my stomach twist in knots. My fingers fiddled with the fabric of my nightgown and I found my eyes were more interested in my bare feet. “Um, I’m Y-Y/n. I lived on Earth but Lucifer kidnapped me. He wants me to be his bride.”

I glanced back up at Sera and a shocked expression graced her features. In a second she flipped back to a more relaxed face, her black lips smiling at me. “My child, you have had quite the journey. Come.”

She moved to the side and gestured her hand towards the gate. I looked at Adam and he pushed me forward. “But, Sera-”

“It’s alright, Saint Peter. This is the one exception I will make.”

“Alright.”

He waved his hand and the gate opened, sunlight streaming through. I took a few hesitant steps forward and the four angels followed behind me. The buildings that I saw before glowed in the sunlight and the golden paved road appeared like marble. The two females stepped in front of me, calm smiles on their faces. “How rude of us to not introduce ourselves. I am Sera, the high Seraphim.” 

She bowed her head as the child-like angel giggled. She bounced in front of me and was quick to take my hand, shaking it ferociously. “I’m Emily, the other Seraphim! But you can call me Emmy, Em, E, whatever. Welcome to Heaven!”

I smiled and pulled my hand away from her light grip. “Thank you. It feels so surreal being here honestly. I didn’t picture Heaven to look like this.”

“We are quite the close knit community. Everyone is friendly, polite and the nicest of the nice. We pride ourselves on being the best and most innocent of creatures,” Sera said. 

“Oh you’re going to like it here, Y/n! We’ve got the most delicious food you’ll ever taste and the beds are like you’re sleeping on a cloud, they’re so soft! You can indulge in any hobby you like and we even have ice cream with rainbow sprinkles!”

I chuckled at Emily’s enthusiasm. “Sounds like fun. Where might I be staying, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“You’ll be with me, toots. I have several bedrooms in my bachelor pad.”

Adam wrapped an arm around my shoulder. His fingers played with the strap to my nightgown and I felt a pit in my stomach as he slid it down my shoulder. His black fingers caressed the skin and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine. I didn’t know what was worse: Lucifer’s gentle touch or Adam’s commanding one. “How about we get you something new to wear. Lute, take Y/n and get her some new clothes. While I enjoy seeing those pretty shins of yours Y/n, I prefer to see them just for myself.”

His fingers slightly dug into my shoulder and I gulped. Was he being possessive or was it just my imagination from being around Lucifer? Lute signaled for me to follow her and as we walked the golden road I wondered if I truly was in a better place. I thought back to Earth and how I longed to be there with S/o. I wondered if he was looking for me or if somehow the Devil made him forget all about me. I held onto the hope that he was searching everywhere, calling everyone he knew and scouring every town in our state. “Hey, pay attention! We’re here.”

“Sorry.”

I hadn’t noticed Lute had opened a wooden oak door and was pointing at it. I walked in and she shut it behind us. I looked around the room as she rummaged through a closet. The purple floor was made to look like tiled marble and the light blue walls were a pastel version of the sky. The bed itself was King size and had purple sheets and blankets to match. A white knit duvet laid over top and the whole thing looked so soft. A nightstand with a purple based lamp stood on either side of the oak headboard, a wooden oak desk stood under a stained glass window, a purple wooden dresser stood next to the door, and the purple closet was next to another wooden door. Lute walked over and threw a pile of clothes at my chest. I looked up at her and could feel the anger behind her mask. “This will be your room. Bathroom is behind that door. Change and roam around as you like. Just don’t disturb Adam or myself. We’re busy people, got it?”

I blinked in shock at her tone. Why was she so displeased with me? It was Adam’s idea to bring me here. When I didn’t answer, she grabbed me by the hair and pulled. I shrieked as searing pain tugged at my scalp. “I said, got it?”

It sounded like she was gritting her teeth. I nodded my head rapidly. “Yes, yes! I got it!”

As she let go, she pushed me and I landed on the edge of the bed. “Just because you're in Heaven doesn’t mean you’ll get Heavenly treatment. You’re only here because Adam said so. If it was my choice, you would still be rotting in Hell being Lucifer’s bitch.”

She scoffed and turned, her heeled boots clicking against the tiled floor. I sat in disbelief even as the door slammed behind Lute. Clearly she despised me. The question was why. It took me a few minutes to get over the awkward exchange, finally looking down at the pile of clothes. Lute had chosen a boring arrangement: a white tank top, a golden jacket that was just the neck, shoulders and puffy sleeves, dark purple puffy harem pants, and black gladiator sandals. While I matched Adam's color scheme, Lute made it so I didn't stand out. I sighed and walked to the other wooden door. Opening it, it did house a bathroom like she said. I stepped in and locked the door behind me. Sure, everyone is supposed to be friendly, but with the way Adam made me feel uncomfortable I was not risking my safety. The bathroom held a toilet, shower, and a white marble counter with a sink. Silently I stripped down and put on the angelic garments. I had to admit while the clothes Lucifer gave me were soft, these felt, well, heavenly. I looked at myself in the mirror above the counter. I looked so pale from receiving no sun down in Hell and my eyebags matched the purple of my pants. I sighed and turned the faucet onto cold water. The frigidness felt nice against my fingertips as I tested the temperature. Satisfied, I splashed water onto my face and rubbed it in thoroughly. I breathed in deep and looked at myself in the mirror once more. My cheeks felt a bit warm from the cool contact, but I felt a bit better nonetheless. Drying my hands on a towel hanging on a metal bar behind me, I unlocked the bathroom door and headed back into the bedroom. As I was trying to figure out where I was going to explore first, I heard two voices. Curious, I stepped to my bedroom door and opened it slowly. Nobody was in the hallway, but I could hear the muffled conversation taking place next to me. Hesitantly, I walked into the hall and to the golden door next to mine. I put my ear up close to the wood. I couldn’t tell exactly who was talking to one another, but from what I knew it sounded like Adam and Sera. “-can’t believe you would bring her here, Adam! Do you know how dangerous your actions are?!”

“Chill out, drama queen. Nothing is going to fucking happen, okay.”

“You don’t know what Lucifer is capable of.”

“The motherfucker hides during the exterminations. You really think he’d try and come up here?”

“Yes! When Lucifer desires something he won’t stop till it’s in his grasp. I fear he will make quite the grand entrance to come and retrieve his beloved.”

“Oh please. Even if he does come, I’ll have her wrapped around my finger to the point she’ll obey my every order.”

My eyebrows scrunched together. I could only assume they were talking about me. But why would Adam want me to comply with him? It’s not like I found him attractive or was even remotely interested in him. My ears caught onto light footsteps headed for the door, so I quickly rushed around a corner. I watched as Sera entered the hall, a look of disappointment gracing her features. She sighed and floated the opposite direction of me, Adam soon following after. I let my hands slip down to my sides and decided to take a walk to mull over the whole situation.

I didn’t really pay attention to where I was going, just focusing on my feet lifting up and down as I walked. It wasn’t till I heard ocean waves that made me stop. I looked to my left to see a gorgeous beach sitting in the distance. How odd.

I felt myself drawn to the calming sound of the tide seeping in and out as I made my way over. The wooden steps below my feet squeaked a bit and soon the white sand seeped around my sandals. I stopped at the water’s edge and closed my eyes. The breeze off the sea brushed against my flesh, the warmth feeling like a hug from a loved one. The smell of the salt reminded me of when S/o and I traveled a few towns over from ours to visit an aquarium. The animals were held in their natural waters behind glass panes, but the smell of rich salt permeated the air wherever you went. “Enjoying your freedom?”

My eyes shot open and I spun around. Laying on a long white beach chair was a taller woman. Her long blonde hair blew a bit in the breeze and caressed the top of the sand. She wore a dark purple sun hat with a lighter purple band, a dark purple bikini set, and purple rimmed sunglasses. Even though I couldn’t see her eyes, her aura wasn’t threatening. “W-what did you say?”

“I said enjoying your freedom, dearie?”

“Um, I guess. I mean I just got here so I wouldn’t know-”

“Come closer.”

I was taken aback by her tone. Though she was in a relaxed position, her voice was commanding, authoritative. I gulped and did as she requested. I stopped by her bare feet and could feel her eyes scanning me up and down. She hummed and her lips twitched into a small smile. “So you’re the one Lucifer is obsessed with now. I’ll admit I can see why. A pretty thing like you probably reminds him of the swans he would keep in gilded cages. While they weren’t ducks per say he found their beauty and grace appealing.”

I could feel my cheeks heat up at her compliment. “T-thank you?”

She chuckled and leaned back, soaking up the sun. “Your wedding will be the talk of Hell for quite a few months, I reckon. It’s not often that the King lends out his heart. You must be very special to him.”

“I found him as a snake. He was wounded and I patched him up. God, if only I hadn’t touched him I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

The woman scooted her feet over and patted the empty space on her chair. I sat sideways so I was able to glance at her. “So he took the form of a snake, eh? He hasn’t done that since he offered the apple to Eve. I always did find it interesting how slippery he could be, even when not in his snake form.”

“He’s so clingy. I hardly have any time to myself, he is always by my side. His claws touch me tenderly and when I look into his eyes all I can see is adoration. It’s disturbing.”

“Possessive as always. Perhaps your presence eases his depression.” 

“I guess. I just don’t understand why he can’t get it through his head that I don’t want to be with him.”

“It’s called ego, darling. His pride gets the better of him. It doesn’t help that he’s the sin of it either.”

I brought my hand up to sit in my lap and found myself fidgeting with the finger my engagement ring had been on. “Apparently he’s so in love with me that he forgets he was married before. I realize his wife, Lilith I think her name was, left him seven years ago but he acts like I’m his first love.”

The woman was silent for a moment, the calm of the tide being the only sound between us. “Sounds like he’s just trying to find someone who makes him happy.”

“Yes, but at the expense of my own happiness.”

The woman opened her mouth to say something, but a familiar voice made us both look up at the wooden stairs. Emily stood waving her arm, a giant smile on her face. “Adam said you’d be out wandering so I thought I’d catch up and show you the ropes!”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Come on! I have so much stuff to show you!”

I chuckled and stood up from the chair. Just as I started to walk away, the woman’s hand clung to my wrist. Her grip was firm but gentle, making me turn back towards her. With her free hand she slid her sunglasses down her nose just enough to see her eyes. My eyes widened to see her light purple irises gleaming at me. “Please take care of him for me, Y/n. I can tell he truly loves and adores you.”

She raised my hand to her lips and left a light kiss on my knuckles. “Y/n, come on!”

The woman let me slip my hand from her grasp and as I slowly walked away she pushed her sunglasses back up. I was dazed as I reached Emily on the stairs, still reeling from what the woman had said. “Oh I’m so excited to show you everything! I think I’ll take you to the park first, ooo! Or I could take you to the zoo! We’ve got all of the animals Noah had on the Ark and more!”

I didn’t say anything as she grabbed my hand and pulled me away. Before we got too far I looked back at the woman, her hair blowing in the breeze.

I didn’t really pay much attention to what Emily was showing me or what she was saying. I was too focused on my conversation with the woman on the beach. Her eyes felt so familiar to me and yet I couldn’t place where I had seen them before. “/n? Y/n? Are you listening?”

I shook my head to see the young Seraphim looking at me concerned. “Huh?”

“I asked what you thought of the sunset. Isn’t it pretty?”

I followed her arm to see her pointing ahead of us. The clouds around us had turned pink, orange and light purple while the Sun had been cast to be a golden orange. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

“Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m here for you.”

Emily placed a hand on my shoulder, her thumb rubbing light circles. While the offer was tempting I didn’t know if I should tell her anything. I mean what did she know about Lucifer? Would she understand how the woman and I had connected while talking of the Devil? I looked over at her and could feel a wave of calm hit. Emily had this aura of trust and care surrounding her; her eyes sparkled and a friendly smile was placed on her black lips. I let out a sigh. “The woman I was with on the beach. Who is she?”

The angel looked puzzled, holding her chin in between her index finger and thumb. “I’m not entirely sure. She just showed up one day with Adam and Lute. I tried to talk to her but she brushed me off. Come to think of it, she only really talks to Adam. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that she knew about Lucifer and I are to be wed soon. She also had information that isn’t known to the general public.”

“Maybe she heard it somewhere? I’ve heard Sera talk about Down Below every once in a while.”

“No, she knew too many details to have heard it in passing. Besides, she told me to take care of him, almost like she knew him personally. It was like she was giving me her blessing.”

“How mysterious.”

The two of us stood watching the sky slowly paint itself to night. It was refreshing to see something that S/o and I would watch any chance we got. “Y/n, may I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What’s it like on Earth?”

I blinked a few times, stunned by her question. “You’ve never been?”

“No. I was created way after Lucifer fell. My only purpose is to make the winners happy and enjoy their eternal life here in Heaven. Sera doesn’t view my position as something needed in everyday human life.”

I hummed and stared at the night sky. A shooting star passed by and I smiled in wonder. “I find it to be a lovely place. The town I live in is a nice community. Everyone knows their neighbors and it was the kind of place where if someone had a barbeque, everyone in the neighborhood was invited. I live by myself in a small house. It was kind of like an apartment but with no roommates. I even have my own little garden out back. It is my pride and joy.”

“That sounds amazing. Do you have any significant others?”

“I do. His name is S/o and he’s my world. Before I was kidnapped we didn’t have much time to spend with one another due to our work schedules. But when we were together, my god those were the best times. He made me feel like the most special girl in the universe.”

I smiled upon remembering my dear boyfriend. The memories of us on dates or him telling a stupid joke that I’d laugh way too hard at flooded my head. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and I was quick to wipe them away. I choked back a sob and tried to focus on the stars. I didn’t want to become a crying mess in front of Emily. “Hiya, toots~”

The young angel and I turned to see the First Man standing behind us, his arms crossed in front of him. “It’s getting late, babe. Hows about you and I get to bed, hm?”

I looked at Emily, who gave me a curt nod. “I suppose.”

I walked up to him, only for him to snuggle me up to his side. “Thanks for watching her, Em! Go get yourself an ice cream or some shit.”

Before I could even say goodbye, Adam was dragging me back to my bedroom. He threw open the door and lightly pushed me inside. I stumbled and turned to look at him. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning. If you need anything, and I mean anything, give me a holler. I’m right next door. Night, babe!”

He threw up a rock symbol on his right hand before slamming the door shut. What is with angels and slamming doors?

I shook my head and went to the closet. I looked in disgust at the pajama choice: a light pink babydoll nightgown with ruffles around the chest area and hem. I searched to see if there were any other options. Unfortunately, there were none. I headed to the bathroom with my pj’s and locked the door behind me. Stripping down, I slid on the nightdress. Looking in the mirror, I cringed at how short it was. I tried to pull the hem down but it stayed around my upper thigh. Growling in frustration, I unlocked the door and headed to the bed. I flipped back the covers and climbed in. I shifted around a bit to try and get comfortable. Even though the mattress was like a cloud, I preferred my bed back home. There I could have S/o’s arms wrapped around me as we cuddled. My homemade quilt and weighted blanket would keep us warm in the Queen sized bed. I could feel the tears from earlier gather in my eyes and slide down onto the pillowcase. I wrapped my arms around my midsection and curled into a ball. I ended up crying myself to sleep.

Over the next few days I found myself next to Adam’s side nearly all the time. The only time I was separated was when I was in the bathroom or when I was sleeping. Even being in the supposed happiest place for death I found myself very uncomfortable. Adam constantly had his hands on me: playing with the straps of my tops, smacking my butt, massaging my shoulders and hips, and his fingertips “accidentally” scraping my boobs. It didn’t help that Lute would constantly glare at me and her face would be pulled into a snarl. I suppose she thought I was disobeying her order to stay away from her master. 

I thought about my interactions with the two as I pulled back the covers, getting ready to go to bed. A knock on my door made me pause. It was pretty late so I was confused as to who could be there. “Come in.”

The door slowly opened to reveal Adam. I gagged at how strong his cologne was as I could smell it all the way to where I was. “Um, hey Adam. What can I do for you?”

His footsteps sounded heavy on the tiled floor and the door shutting behind him felt like a blade stabbing into my heart. He lifted his hand and my breath caught in my throat when I heard the lock. I backed up but I felt the bed behind my knees. The First Man stopped right in front of me and allowed his lips to quirk into a deep grin. His hands came up and started to slide the nightgown straps down. Disgusted, I slapped his hands away and went to shove him. As my hands pushed on him, he was quick to grab my wrists and hold them to his chest. “You look so hot, babe. I was right to pick out this pj set. You fill it out perfectly.”

“Let go of me!”

I struggled to pull my hands away but his grip didn’t falter. “Adam, let go! Y-you’re scaring me!”

“Just go with the flow, sweetie. Can’t you see this was meant to be?”

He pushed me onto the bed and before I could get up he pounced on top of me. I was about to hit him but he pinned my wrists on either side of my head. He leaned down and began to kiss my neck. His lips were sloppy and he brought his tongue to lick against my vein. “I’m going to make you forget all about that fucking Morningstar. All that you’re going to have on your mind is the original Dickmaster.”

As he brought his lips down to kiss mine, I let out a growl and threw my leg upwards. I heard him let out a cry of pain before he fell onto the floor clutching his privates. “My balls! My fucking balls! God dammit, Y/n!”

With fear guiding me, I stumbled to the door and fumbled with the lock. “Come on, come on, come on, come on!”

My fingers shook as I heard Adam rise, a groan leaving his lips. “I was going to play nice, toots. I really was. But it seems you want to play hard to get!”

I heard the lock click and I quickly threw the door open. I sprinted down the hall as I heard Adam yell after me. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I ran faster than I ever had. My escape was futile though as I slammed into a muscular body. I looked up to see Lute, her mask off to reveal a white bob and yellow eyes. I was frozen as I heard Adam huffing behind us. “Good job catching her, Lute!”

“What would you like me to do with the bitch?”

“Lock her in a cell.”

“Anything else?”

“Hit her or something for kicking my balls. That shit hurt.”

“Of course, sir.”

I cried out as Lute grabbed my hair and pulled me down the hall. I tried to pull her hand off but she just tightened her hold. With the pace we were going, the two of us ended up at a dark wooden door. Lute opened it and walked me to the middle of the dimly lit room. She opened the black metal door to the cell and threw me inside. I groaned as I felt my knee scrape against the cold cobblestone floor. I looked up at the angel who sent daggers into my soul with her gaze. “I told Adam you were trouble, but he insisted we bring you here. And after all the hospitality he showed you…you go back on his trust.”

“By hospitality do you mean perverted-” I growled out.

Lute brought her leg up and kicked my cheek. I landed harshly on my side and spit out some blood that oozed from my teeth. “Don’t speak of him like that.”

“Why? It’s not like he’s a saint!”

She growled and drove her foot into my stomach. I howled as sharp pain blossomed. “He’s better than you could ever be! I mean look at you. While he’s up here in Heaven you’re Down Below sucking Lucifer’s cock.”

Her foot hit my stomach again and I could feel bile rise in my throat. “How does it feel to know you’ll never achieve anything? Your legacy will be known as the Devil’s little whore and that’s all you're good for.”

I gave her a smirk before I coughed. “At least I probably give better head than you.”

Her eyes widened before they returned to slits. With her teeth clenched, she brought her right fist into my mouth. I felt my bottom lip split as some blood came shooting out. “Oh, triggered are we? Is this because you have pent up sexual frustration for your leader? Is that some kind of kink you’re into: master and servant?”

“Shut the hell up!”

Grabbing my hair, she slammed my head into the stone floor with a warrior cry. My vision blurred and the room felt like it was spinning. With her hand still tangled in my locks, Lute brought my head up and down several times to meet the floor. My cheekbone felt like it was on fire and I figured the bone was probably shattered with the force of me hitting the ground. “Think you’re tough shit, huh? I can tell you’re just a scared little girl. You were never meant for Heaven, even if you weren’t branded as Lucifer’s slut.”

I could feel my anger boiling. How dare she call me such vile names. “You think I chose this life? Hell no! I was fine being on Earth with my boyfriend!”

“Yeah right. You probably summoned that dirty retch. Why’d you do it? Did you want fame? Money? The glory of saying you fucked the King of Hell?”

“I didn’t do any of that shit! If I had it my way I would have never helped that stupid snake in my garden! Then maybe I wouldn’t be forced to be a bride against my will! Or better yet, then maybe I wouldn’t have met you or your motherfucking boss!”

She yelled in fury and brought her foot up to meet my chest. I landed on my back and the air left my lungs. I heaved in oxygen as she kept kicking me. I swear I heard ribs cracking under pressure. Lute didn’t stop there. She slammed her gray heeled boot onto my fingers and I couldn’t help but let out a scream. “That’s it! Scream, little girl! Pray that your hellish Daddy comes to save you!”

“S-shut up!”

I felt whiplash as her foot dug into my cheek, blood spilling down my bruised lips. “You know what we consider people like you? Fallen. Maybe I should cut your wings like we do all the others?”

“N-no!”

She roughly turned me over so that my back was facing her. I attempted to stand when I heard the sound of fabric ripping and cool air hitting my back. Lute however stomped me into the ground, her heel digging into my flesh. I heard her sword being unsheathed and saw its angelic light bounce off the cell wall. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anything I said! Lute, p-please!”

She let out a cruel laugh and I yelped at her heel digging in further. “You’re pathetic, you know that? If you were half the woman that Adam claimed you to be, you wouldn’t go back on your word. Some advice for you, sweetie. If you say a threat, really mean it.”

I screamed as her sword pierced into the left side of my back. There had to be some kind of special angelic powers attached because this hurt way worse than when I would accidentally slice my finger while cooking. Lute reveled in my cries as she dragged the blade around forming some shape. Tears fell rapidly from my eyes as I slammed my fist down into the cold floor, trying to focus on something other than the pain radiating in my back. I was relieved when I felt the weapon retract, but the relief was short lived. A blood curdling shriek ripped through my throat as the sword entered the right side and began drawing a similar shape to its predecessor. Lute seemed to take her time, enjoying my wails bouncing off the walls. She harshly pulled the sword out and resheathed it. “While I would love to carry on my tradition of licking the blood of my enemies off my blade, I don’t want to taint my Holy body with your sin.”

“W-what did you d-do,” I stuttered under my breath.

I could sense a smirk gracing her features as she rounded in front of me. Reaching under my armpits, she hoisted me up and threw me against the wall. I cried out as the rough stone dug into my newly acquired wounds. “I just cut the wings off the fallen, dare I say, angel. Oh who am I kidding? You’re no angel. You’re not even as worthy as the dirt beneath my feet.”

“F-fuck you.”

I grit my teeth as she harshly gripped my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes. “What did I say about empty threats, sweetie? Or do I need to remind you?”

I shook my head as a dangerous smile overtook her face. “No, I think you need the reminder.”

Her hand moved to my throat and she made sure to drag my back up the wall as she let me hang. I weakly kicked my legs as I tried to get her to release me. I could feel my body shutting down as Lute squeezed. I was pretty sure I’d have bruises where her fingers lay. My hands started to slide off of hers as my vision began to get a black haze around the edges. “What is going on here?”

Lute let go of me in her haste and my butt collided hard with the ground. I couldn’t see who had entered as I heaved in deep breaths. “Miss Emily, what are you doing up? It’s late. You should get to bed. Here, let me escort you.”

“What were you doing, Lute?”

“Oh, um, I was taking care of a prisoner.”

I could see a familiar head peek around my attacker’s body, a gasp leaving the young Seraphim’s lips. “Oh my goodness! Y/n!”

Emily rushed past and cradled me in her arms, her hand gently rubbing my bruised cheek. “What have you done?! Y/n didn’t do anything to you!”

“On the contrary Miss Emily, Y/n here has committed a major sin. She rejected the orders of the First Man and I was told to punish her in any way I saw fit.”

“I rejected him because he wanted sex. You left that part out,” I hissed, my throat raw from screaming. 

Lute bit her lip and I could see she was dying to cuss me out. “I could forgive Adam’s behavior up until now, but this, this is unforgivable! I need to talk to Sera about this. Violence isn’t the answer and neither is attacking innocent people!”

I could see a shadow cast over the white haired angel’s face and her hand reached for her sword. “There’s no need to discuss this with Sera.”

My eyes widened as her sword was unsheathed next to her side. Emily must have sensed something was off as well because her arms trembled around me. “Lute, w-what are you doing? Put your sword away n-now!”

“I can’t risk you running and tattling to Sera. Who knows what she’ll do to us. Adam and I belong here in Heaven! We’re doing good in God’s name! We will not be cast Down Below!”

She raised the blade and brought it down quickly towards Emily’s head. She screamed and with a newly found inner strength I forced myself up. I let out a warrior cry as I brought my arm up to protect my face, the sharp weapon making contact with my left shoulder. I heard fabric ripping and a glass shattering shriek from the young Seraphim. Glancing down I saw my arm was missing, it lying discarded on the dungeon floor. I let out a shaky gasp and stumbled into the wall. “Y/N!”

I went to go to Emily’s side but Lute stabbed her sword into my right shoulder, effectively pinning me to the wall. I screeched and realized there was nothing I could do. I helplessly watched as the evil angel went for the younger girl’s throat. However, a punch to her face made her drop Emily. She grunted as her head smacked the wall next to me and her body slid down to the floor. I looked towards our savior and felt the color drain from my face. There stood Lucifer, six red and white wings displayed behind him. His eyes were completely red as tall, curvy, red horns grew from his forehead. A flame hovered between them and the snake that usually rested on his hat was now wrapped around the tip of his horns. From this distance it looked like his sharp teeth had grown longer, his canines more prevalent. Lute grunted as she sat up holding her cheek, golden blood trickling from a cut. “You BASTARD! You can’t hurt an angel on Holy ground!”

“The rules don’t apply to FUCKING SCUM LIKE YOU! How DARE you lay your filthy hands on MY BRIDE!”

He rushed forwards and sent a hard punch to her gut. Lute let out a cry of pain before Lucifer grabbed her by the feathers around her throat. Her muscular legs kicked violently, her white gloved hands digging into black hands. I could hear the crunch of her neck bones breaking, golden blood flying out her mouth onto the Devil’s claws. “I can think of so many ways I can torture you with. What should I start with first, hm? I could pluck those white and black feathers from your wings and have them decorate a cape for my darling; Or I could have my snakes bite you all over your body as you screamed and writhed in agony. Oh yes, their venom would enter your bloodstream and there would be nothing you could do as it slowly overtook you, boiling your insides to ash; Or I could break each bone in your body beginning with your fingers and leaving your neck. After everything was broken and you felt that pain, I could slowly saw off each limb, starting with the tops of your fingers and going down each joint. I think I would like that! And after every vein, tendon, muscle and bone was cut off your body I could give them to Cannibal Town to feed the residents as a treat from their King. Just before you died, I could cut out your tongue, eyes and ears and give them to Alastor. I don’t know what the Radio Demon would do with them, but I know he’d find a way to make them useful. And as you would crash from blood loss, I would place your head on a spike outside my palace. It would be a reminder to not mess with me or my fucking bride! Oh, I’d have fun torturing your soul as surely Heaven wouldn’t want you as my hellish hands corrupted your purity!”

Lute bared her teeth and her legs started to slow down to a small wiggle. I watched on in horror as he threw her at the wall on the opposite side of the room. As he stomped towards her, Emily ran to my side. She took off the shawl around her shoulders and wrapped it around my left shoulder. She pulled it tight to try and staunch the bleeding. I hissed as the pressure sent shooting pain to my remaining nerves. Lucifer’s black tail flicked up and down, acting like a scorpion's. My pupils shrunk as I watched him wrap his fist around one of Lute’s wings. She scratched at him as he tugged, a scream ripping from her throat. “That! Is for even bringing my dear apple up here!”

He gripped her other wing and tugged, more bloodied feathers in his fist. “That! Is for throwing her around!”

He went back and forth ripping more and more feathers from each wing, a pile growing behind Lucifer as he called out something harmful Lute had done to me. “Get off me, you motherfucker!”

The Devil brought up one of his feet, slamming the heel of his black leather boot into her eye socket. I shrieked as he kept at it, more golden blood dripping down as her face was slowly being caved in. I couldn’t watch this any longer.

“LUCIFER, STOP!”

His foot was in midair as it froze. He looked over his shoulder at me. I scrunched my eyebrows together and let pleas slip past my bruised lips and raw throat. 

“PLEASE, STOP! Just stop! You’ve done enough damage!”

He scowled and brought his foot down, turning to face me completely. White irises surfaced on top of his red scaleras, softening as they stared at me. “Y/n, she could have killed you! By God, your arm has been lobbed off! Why do you plead mercy for a disgusting soul like hers? She and Adam should suffer for what they have done to you!”

“It’s not worth it! Killing her won’t rewind time or heal me. Just, just let her be.”

He sighed and looked down at Lute’s crumpled body. I could hear her labored breathing so I knew she was still alive, just in a fatal condition. He walked over and crouched before me. Those white eyes of his were filled with rage and determination, but not directed towards me. He brought his hands up to my cheeks, tenderly rubbing them with his thumbs. “Okay. But I need to remove this weapon from your shoulder. I’m not going to lie, this’ll hurt like hell. Emily, stabilize her.”

“O-of course.”

The young girl moved her hands from my missing arm to underneath my armpits and Lucifer grabbed the hilt of the sword. “I apologize for the pain this’ll bring, my dear. I’ll go as fast as I can without the risk of damaging your nerves.”

I nodded and with that he pulled. I cried out in pure agony. Emily hushed me in an effort to make me feel better but all I could focus on was the pain. When the sword was fully out of my shoulder, Lucifer patted the top of my head and gave it a gentle kiss. He stood and turned back towards Lute, who had pushed herself up so she was in a sitting position. With the sword by his side, my fiance slowly stalked forward until he stopped in front of the fallen angel. I couldn’t see her due to Lucifer’s wings spread out but maybe he had done that on purpose. “You should thank my dear apple. She has shown you mercy in a time when she shouldn’t be so kind. But her kindness is one of the reasons I fell for her.”

I felt a sudden tension in my body. He had agreed to not do anything so why did I feel so uneasy? Suddenly he thrust forward and from the feminine scream that bounced off the walls I could tell he had stabbed her. “But on the other hand, I’m not so merciful. I am the King of Hell after all. What is it that you angels say about me? That I’m a rotten, purely evil, husk of a man who should have choked on his own apple while a snake hung me from a tree in the Garden of Eden? Well let me live up to my title. Let me show you how rotten and purely evil I can be!”

“Lucifer, no,” I cried.

He pulled the sword out of wherever he had stabbed it and lifted it above his head. He brought it down with a yell of fury and I screamed as golden blood sprayed everywhere. I squirmed as some of it had splattered across the room onto Emily and I. It was warm and sticky against my legs and face. I wondered if Lute was even alive after that blow. “You. Sick. Fuck! You’re a monster, you know that?!”

I was shocked to hear the female sidekick, even if her voice was shaky. “I don’t care! I don’t care what others think of me! The only one I need is Y/n! She’s MY darling! MY little apple! MY light! And no one, not even the fucker up here who calls himself Father, CAN TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!”

My eyes widened and I couldn’t tell if it was Emily or I who was trembling the hardest. 

He was crazy.

Absolutely batshit insane.

I finally realized how deep his obsession for me ran. 

He cackled like a lunatic, throwing his head back. His whole body shook with how hard he was laughing. He brought the angelic weapon up again and swung down-

"LUCIFER!”

All of us froze. There in the doorway stood Sera, a multitude of eyes surrounding her gray curls. Her fists were balled at her sides as she walked in. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Lucifer didn’t even look at her, too focused on his prey in front of him. “I’m acting in self defense. Aren’t I, Emily?”

Sera looked at the two of us and Emily squeaked. “Is this true, Emily?”

“I-I-I-”

“Be truthful, my child. I don’t want you scorned for siding with the embodiment of evil.”

“...He saved us, Sera! Lute, she, she, she was going to kill me! If Mister Morningstar hadn’t stepped in both Y/n and I would be dead!”

The High Seraphim was taken aback, her eyes fading from her hair. “What?”

“Hey, what’s with all the commotion? Some people are trying to sleep-”

My gaze saw Adam walk in behind Sera, his mouth allowing a yawn to pass. The pit in my stomach grew as I feared how he would react when he saw the state of his right hand woman. Sure enough his eyes landed on her and his body tensed. “Holy shit…Lute.”

His hands balled up next to his sides and his eyebrows scrunched over the top of the golden eyes on his mask. “You, motherfucker! You, son of a bitch! You could have killed her-”

A screech ripped my throat as Lucifer whipped around and sliced through Adam’s arm. It flopped to the floor and a chorus of fear filled the air. The First Man was quick to grab his open wound, liquid gold coating his fingers. “What the fuck. What the fuck! WHAT THE FUCK! YOU CUT OFF MY ARM, YOU ASSHOLE!”

With Lucifer turned I could see the fire burning in his eyes. He was scaring even Sera, her taking a step back. “What is it they say? An eye for an eye? Well in this case it’s an arm for an arm.”

“YOU, DICKBAG! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!”

“Why don’t you ask your little whore when she wakes up? I’m sure she’d love to tell you in great detail while she’s in between your thighs sucking you off about what happened.”

Adam growled and released his shoulder, his bloodied hand pointing at Emily and I. His index finger started to glow with a bright white light and I feared he’d shoot me. With the threat in the air, Lucifer brought the tip of the sword to the masked man’s throat. He pushed it in, not enough to draw blood but enough to make the consequence known. “Don’t. Even. Think. About. It. You’re lucky that my dearest told me not to kill anybody. Because believe me, my limit has been passed and I’m hanging by a fucking thread.”

Adam gulped and the blade moved with the bob of his adams apple. I could see fear in the egotistical man’s eyes and even his stance had changed to try and protect himself. “Say, how about I cut off the other hand to join its partner on the floor? I could make them into a pair of cup holders for my beloved and I to use as we sip your thick rich blood from bejeweled goblets.”

“W-why would you want to do that? My blood doesn’t even taste that good!”

“Let’s see, I could name a million reasons. But the first one that comes to mind is to punish you for assaulting my fiance! Did you really think I wouldn’t know about you constantly putting your wretched paws all over her?”

“L-look, you stole two of my wives. I was only returning the favor!”

Lucifer grit his teeth and I swear with how hard he pushed them together they would shatter. The glare that he sent towards Adam was lethal as his eyes turned completely red once more. His black knuckles turned white with how hard he gripped the hilt of the sword. “Those two were just to show how superior I am to you. Y/n is different. She is my true love! She’ll remain by my side for the rest of her eternal life and together we will rule Hell as King and Queen! And if you think you can take that away I’ll cause my own extermination! Any and all winners will be subject to my wrath! They will be slaughtered one by one and their souls forced to burn beneath my hooved feet! I’ll torture every last one of them as I send them to each ring of Hell, the Cardinal Sins and Overlords free to do whatever the fuck they want! UNDERSTOOD?!”

The sword was pushed a bit further into Adam’s neck, a light trail of blood sliding down from the small gash. The tension was so thick that the weapon in Lucifer’s hands wouldn’t be able to cut through it. “Y-you got it, man! Just don’t hurt me!”

The Devil chuckled and pulled away. “Oh, Adam. So above it all until your whole existence is threatened. Then you turn into a pussy and cower away.”

Throwing the sword into Lute’s left wing with a huff, he used his now open hands to conjure a red misty portal. When Lucifer turned to face Emily and I his white irises had returned to his red eyes and a soft smile reached his lips. He walked over, his bloodied boots clicking against the cobblestone. Slowly, as if to not scare me further, he crouched in front of us. His arms reached for me and as he got close Emily hugged me tight to her frame. Tears ran down my cheeks and wet their previously dry tracks. I shook my head and curled my legs into my torso, trying to get as far away from my fiance. “Please don’t hurt her, Mister Morningstar!”

His face dropped and he shook his head side to side. “You honestly think that I’d hurt my darling? I’m hurt, Emily.”

He reached for me again and before the young girl could put up a fight, he wrapped his arms around me. Standing up, he hoisted me bridal style and brought our foreheads together. He closed his eyes and nuzzled me close. A purr rumbled in his throat and he opened his eyes. That frightening look of adoration had returned, his pupils almost looking like little hearts. He gave my forehead a kiss and then turned towards the other angels. “Goodbye, cunts. Hopefully we never see you again.”

His presence commanded the room as he walked us towards the portal, the familiar dark red sky of Hell peeking through. “Let’s go home, my dearest Y/n. We deserve some alone time together.”

A sob wracked my body as he flew forward, the portal closing immediately behind us.

~~~~~~~~

TAGLIST

@ladymothbeth @cosmic-spider @l0vedoe @stormz369 @strawberry-gothic @repostingmyfavs @purplechan9 @caniseethefourthsword @rl800 @froggybich @txpchhhhhhh @stayinguplate @theonlykawaiigod-blog @vash-yuu @musicb33nsstuff @zennylz @rosieposie005 @weirdgirlislonely @noxianwarmason @luksusowejachty234567 @nicky190i @flutistbyday2020 @insanepurplegrapes @rin22 @b-connie @yepperoniro @halparkebitch @sapphireravensworld @purplerose291 @the-hufflebird-girl @virgoelf-blog @dakota-rain666 @maddiemouse-1226 @acrazyartist @beaststorm @venusdandy @star-trekker-0013 @lazyexcuse @fanshipper4ever @joylovejoy20 @alientee @frogcoven99 @ungirleygirl-blog @white-00-7 @writerandstudent @sporadicpostkoala @greensunflowerjuna @thechromepaladin @yandere-kou @thenumber1mc @killer-nightmare0 @hyperfixations-keep-me-going @the-ninja-girl-in-blue @elisa-christopher @imwallysdarling @lora-is-bored @yzzaqczec @rae-iin @agentspudnut @usususjhsussu @jaynina4d

[dollarbils]

drunk on her touch | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. when you meet billie at her party, she cant keep her eyes off you.

warnings. alcohol, flirting, smut, oral, overstimulation, this one isn’t proof read i got too lazy

request

the music was loud, the air was warm, and the bartender serving you was very kind. his eyes focused on you as you looked away, trying to catch the eyes of someone you could use to escape the conversation.

“no thank you.” you replied to his offer of another drink. you hadn’t payed for a single one tonight. your head was spinning with things you could say to excuse yourself and get out of the awkward silence between his boring questions.

“i think i’ll just head to the bathroom.” you said politely, getting off the stool and heading in a random direction. billies caught you immediately, she’d been eyeing you from a distance when you’d been sitting at the bar. she excused herself and followed you towards the balcony, to which you were now headed. when she caught up to you and you held the door open noticing she was behind you, her confidence diminished slightly, not knowing how to approach you.

“are you alright?” she asked you, noticing you didn’t seem the happiest, you recognized her straight away, it was her party after all.

“yeah why?” you asked, letting your eyes wander her body as she chewed on her plump lips.

“you seemed very interested in that bartender.” she joked, letting you know she had been looking at you. you laughed, thanking the lord that you’d gotten out of that.

“you do what you gotta do for free drinks.” she chuckled at your response, leaning on the railing of the balcony, admiring your features. you were looking out at the city skyline, enjoying the break from the party.

“well i can’t have one of my guests not enjoying themselves at my party.” she held her hand out in an invitation and you hadn’t even realised you’re hand in hers as you accepted automatically. she led you back inside as different eyes caught your hand in hers. her presence was insane, you felt the heads turning as you walked behind her. she put her arms around you, as you both danced in rhythm. you pulled her closer, when you met eyes and she smirked, her hands moving to your hips.

“you can go lower, don’t be shy.” she was in awe at what you’d said, her body on fire as you begun to grind your hips onto hers. she squeezed you ass, roaming it as if it was a new feeling to her completely. her face was in your neck, leaving tiny kisses, suggestive kisses.

“you wanna get outta here.” she said in your ear and you nodded, following her as she led you through a back entrance. you got outside into the parking lot and closed the door behind you. her lips were on yours in an instant, pushing you harshly against the concrete wall. your hands were in her hair, pulling frantically as she explored your mouth. her hands went lower, pulling your pants down on your hips, so that they rested just above your pussy, but your tattoo she had spotted was now visible.

“no perception of time?” she read the inked words on your skin.

“it’s a song lyric.” you replied to her confusion at the words. she nodded and pulled you towards her car, the both of you getting into the back seat. she took your top off as soon as the car door closed, marvelling at your exposed tits.

“can i?” she gestured to your pants and you nodded, letting her slide them off. she bit her lip looking down at you, thinking of all the things she wanted to do to you.

“billie.” she tore her eyes away from your body.

“hm?” she laughed softly, bringing her lips back down to yours, kissing you harshly, setting you ablaze. her hands travelled past your underwear as her fingers dipped through your folds. you gasped into the kiss and she drunk it in, absorbing all the sounds you were making as she teased you with her fingers.

“god, are you always this wet, baby?” you flushed as she whispered the question on your lips. when you didn’t reply, she pulled her fingers out, using them to pull your underwear down instead. you groaned at her harsh movements when she came back up to kiss you.

“you’re so pretty.” she praised, cupping your breasts. “I really want to ruin it.” her breath was as uneven as yours as she glided her tongue across your body, leaving wet kisses here and there.

“billie.” you gasped when her fingers came to spread your lips open, her tongue latching onto your clit. she groaned at the taste of your arousal. she worked slowly through your folds, pressing her tongue against you. she was experienced with the act and it showed. the more noises you let out, the more it pushed her to continue.

“you’re so delicious.” she spoke the words into your clit before darting her tongue out again, flicking it near your entrance. she used her fingers to get you off while her mouth enjoyed sucking on your clit. the knot in your lower stomach tightened as she guided you to your release. she smirked proudly as she watched you come down from your high, soaking in her touch. she licked you clean, the mess on your thighs disappearing when she ran her tongue along them. she continued licking all your sensitive spots, as you writhed beneath her, reminding her of your sensitivity.

“billie.” the chant fell on deaf ears as she just continued, ignoring your pleas.

“sweet girl, you can take it.” she said before disappearing in your pussy again, you hands tugging harshly at her hair.

and when she was done, she kissed you sweetly, reminding you of your taste. but she never got to stay with you. all she ever had was one day with you.

[shiroxichigo]

Ichigo gets a lot of shit (typically from outside of the Bleach fandom) for being a character whose wants/goals never change from beginning to end of his series. He always wants to protect people (and even though I could argue that he went from only wanting to protect those close to him to wanting to protect everyone he can, that's not the point I'm making with this post).

I think a lot of people who only give Bleach a passing glance fail to see Ichigo's true character growth. It's not about what his goals are or who he's trying to protect, but rather, it's about how he achieves it.

Ichigo is very self-sacrificing in the first third of Bleach. He believes that if the mission is successful, then it doesn't matter how broken or close to death he gets. The mission, saving Rukia (and hurting/killing as few people in the process), is all that matters.

Then, when a part of himself (his inner hollow) emerges, and says "hey yeah no, I'm not letting you get yourself killed and I'm also not letting you hold back against your enemy", Ichigo immediately rejects it.

It's not until he defeats his inner Hollow that we see Ichigo really dive into a fight with the intent to kill. The problem is, once his Hollow is defeated, he thinks that's it. He's freed himself of that part of him and he can go back to being self-sacrificing.

We see this throughout the Hueco Mundo arc. It's why saving Orihime parallels saving Rukia. Ichigo naively thinks he can suppress a part of himself. He bottles it up until it explodes, coming back to haunt him in his fight with Ulquiorra, etc. He learns that side of himself isn't so easily tucked away, and if he recklessly endangers himself, he could end up endangering his friends too. At his own hand, no less.

Then Ichigo discovers he can commit the ultimate sacrifice. Final Getsuga Tenshou. He can throw away these powers and the parts of himself that he doesn't like, and he can get rid of Aizen all in one go. He's lucky that it worked, but only because Kisuke was there.

Then, once Ichigo is powerless, he learns that's not what he really wants. Life doesn't "go back to normal". The can is open, and there's danger out there beyond just Aizen. And Ichigo can't do anything to stop it unless he gets his powers back.

So he does. Then he cuts down the threat to his friends and family. And he doesn't hesitate this time. Yes, he still has compassion for his enemies (he even goes to the Soul Society to ask for Ginjo's body so he can give him a proper burial), but he's learned not to hold back and he's learned that new threats will appear and he'd rather have the power to face them head on.

So then comes TYBW, and Ichigo is facing battles head-on without hesitation. He goes straight to the "bad guys" with the intention of cutting them down. He learns the truth about who his Inner Hollow is, and he accepts it. He's even willing to accept whatever consequences may come from training in the Royal Palace and becoming stronger. He accepts his power and potential fully, and learns that he has what it takes to protect his loved ones with his strength, and not with a sacrifice.

Ultimately, he heals the part of himself that thinks his life is worth less than other people's. He heals the part of himself that blames himself for not protecting his mother (when he was 9!! Like come on Isshin, put the kid in therapy!! Anyway...) He grows into someone who knows his self worth. And I think, for me at least, that makes him one of my favourite protagonists of all time. Because can't most of us relate to feeling worthless at times? And don't we also wanna overcome that?

Thanks for reading my ramble lmao, I'm sure this could have been more elegantly written but I'm very sleepy and just wanted to get my thoughts out there.

[gahellhimself-blog]

⚠️important informations⚠️

Hey everyone,

I would like to have a moment to talk about the comic Teach Me with you all.

For some time now, and especially since we reached the end of Chapter 2, I have had a few remarks regarding Mr Fell. I understand the criticism that has been written, and that is why I would like to give a few explanations.

I have been working on this comic since around January, first alone, then with my amazing team (<3).

This story evolved a lot since the beginning; as a remind, or information for anybody who joined this adventure recently, this comic shouldn't have grown to be this size, shouldn't even exist to begin with. It did end up taking a spot in my life and mind that I had not planned for at all.

First of all, because it targets themes that I hold very dear; first one being that of transidentity, especially transmasculinity.

Then, because the characters themselves have evolved with the story as it came to be built as time went by.

I make it my personal mission to ensure that this story makes sense, without it going too far either. This means that I am trying, as much as I can, to keep from targetting scenarios deemed "problematic", which as you all might imagine isn't the easiest to do when the story's backbone is the relationship between a professor and a student.

This means a lot of work, but it is extremely satisfying, as it makes everything more interesting and deeper in its narrative meaning.

I was told several times that "my" Aziraphale is very different from the canon Aziraphale: yes, that is after all an Alternative Universe. The canon character is only the base on which we have built the character of Pr. A. Fell.

I can also understand that it would be troubling; however, all you have seen of the characters until now exists for a reason. I am the first to be sorry that I cannot say more at the moment, but I will have to ask you to trust me: if I am not saying anything more, it is all for the benefit of the story itself, as they will surely take another meaning and dimension once you have every piece of information available to you that will allow you to re-read it under a very different light.

Finally, I would like to clarify one important element:

I staunchly refuse to have relationships between adults and minors or grooming in my stories. As much as I can, I avoid age gaps that would be too jarring, and when I do, it will be for the benefit of the story's coherence; same thing applies to power dynamics and imbalances.

Please do not forget that English isn't my native language: I do not have all the codes of language (I think of the hashtags for example), as they can be very different from the French ones. Therefore, I ask that if you see something that looks jarring in my descriptions or answers, you tell me about it. In order to get better at communicating what I mean, I need to know what I have to correct.

Thank you all, both for your incredible support and your criticism, which allow me to grow better.

Gael

Thanks to @kotias for the translation.

See ya in November (at least) for the chapter 3.

[lululawrence]

x

[papercorgiworld]

I don't need space, I need you

This is the requested Draco and Enzo version

Read the Mattheo and Theo version here.

I present you cuteness overload with needy Draco and Enzo and some sassy insults towards Matt and Theo, because I can't resist adding banter and jokes. To the person that requested this, thank you! ☺️ To the people that have sent in requests or casual small talk I'm slowly working through my inbox... I will get to it one day... just know that I love all you darlings and I'm very grateful for your messages. Now, time to get to some reading, I hope you enjoy it, sending you all lots of love! 💛

Draco

“What’s the point of having a girlfriend if I can’t find her.” Draco complains, approaching his friends relaxing by the fireplace in the Slytherin common room. “Have any of you seen here?” Enzo looks up at the impatient blond. “I think she said something about studying with Granger.” Draco is about to start whining about you not being there and instead spending time with Hermione Granger of all people, when he’s interrupted by a snorting Mattheo. “Finally a moment of peace for my fallen brother. Sit and enjoy your freedom before miss clingy returns.” Theodore and Enzo chuckle and Draco feels forced to at least smile at Mattheo’s comment. “Yeeah-, finally peace.” Draco tries his best to sound convincing, but to him peace was cuddling with you, not hanging out with mister mommy and daddy issues, the Italian manwhore and Enzo. The latter picked up on Draco’s reluctance to sit down. “If you miss her so much, maybe you should go look for her?” Theo laughed at Enzo’s suggestion thinking it was a joke and Draco feels the need to make it absolutely clear that he doesn’t miss you at all. “No! If she gets any more cuddly and clingy I’m gonna need to hide from her. And she’s always so nosy, why does she always need to know how my day was? I'll tell her if she needs to know anything.” Mattheo chuckles and offers his friend a drink, but to Draco that did not make up for missing out on time with you.

Your excitement to tell Draco about your day was replaced by a wrecking sadness that made your tears well up. Clingy. Too cuddly. Nosy. As you turn on your heels to leave the common room before anyone notices you, you almost bump into someone because your eyes are getting blurry. Worried that you had been the most annoying girlfriend ever you decided to do better. Draco had been a wonderful boyfriend so far and you really didn’t want to screw this up by being overwhelming. 

***

“He’s a guy and it’s Draco. I’m just giving him some space.” You explained to Luna and Hermione, who both frowned as you joined them in the stands of the quidditch stadium without wishing your boyfriend luck as he left the barracks. Normally you would kiss him passionately in front of everyone and he would hug you tight before he hopped on his broom, but today you wished him luck at breakfast and that was it. You thought you were giving him space as you smiled at him from the stands, but instead you were giving your boyfriend a heart attack as he spotted you so far away. “Hey, Malfoy! The game is about to start. Get on your broom.” Theodore yelled annoyed. “But- but-” Draco’s eyes moved from you to Theo and back to you. The game could not possibly start without you wishing him luck. Confused Draco eventually got on his broom, but his head was nowhere near the game. 

***

Fred and George cheerfully ran up to you and George even picked you up for a moment, making you laugh. Gryffindor had won and the boys were convinced you aided in their victory. “Never wish Draco luck anymore!” Fred yelled and George put you back down as he noticed how confused you were. “I’ve known chickens who fly better than he flew today.” You frowned at the statement. “You think it was because I didn’t wish him any luck before the game?” Both nodded and then left as they were distracted by other people cheering. 

A little worried you slowly made your way in the direction of the changing room. Most of the slytherin team had already made their way to the common room, mainly to keep a pissed off Mattheo from throwing punches, but Draco wasn’t with them so you guessed he was sulking by himself.

You gently push the door open and it reveals a defeated, sweaty and shirtless Draco sitting in an empty room. He hadn’t even made it to the showers yet, his head resting against the wall behind him like it would fall off if it didn’t have any support. His eyelids slowly open and he ssees your worried figure standing at the door. Why is she not rushing to be by my side? Why is she being so distant? Is she going to break up with me? His head was spinning and his heart was aching. “Bad game, huh.” You eventually speak up and Draco just huffs in response. “If you’re going to break up with me just do it already. I’m having a bad day, but I can handle it.” Draco’s eyes look dull and his voice sounds soulless. He gets up and takes a few steps towards you, studying you as you look absolutely shocked. Once you process his words you immediately rush towards him, your eyes pained at the idea of breaking up with the man you so love. 

“I’m not breaking up with you!”. Your voice is surprisingly loud and there is a hint of fear in your words as you worry he was going to end things with you. Your hands rest on Draco’s arms and he shakes his head, not understanding why you were so distant earlier. “Then why didn’t you wish me luck?” You're baffled at the question, it was obvious to you why and you didn’t expect him to care for it. “You said I was too cuddly and too clingy. So I thought it best to give you some space and not overwhelm you before a game. I wished you luck this morning.” 

Draco looks at you like you had just said the dumbest thing ever. “Space? I don’t want space! I want you. I need you! I love you.” Your eyebrows knit together. “But I clearly heard you say-” Draco shakes his head. “When did I ever say you were too clingy… or cuddly. It’s why I love you so much.” You take a step back from your boyfriend. “Yesterday, in the common room, you were talking with Riddle, Berkshire and Nott.” Draco opens his mouth in realisation and then clenches his jaw as he curses himself. He takes a step and closes the distance you had created between you two. “Yeah… I said that… but I didn’t mean it. I said it because I felt that the truth was a bit embarrassing.” You look at your boyfriend with questioning eyes. “Not really cool to tell your mates that you’re looking for your girlfriend because you want to snuggle and watch the stars from the astronomy tower.” You give him a soft smack on the head and he looks at you with apologetic eyes. “I felt horrible after hearing you say those things.” Draco pulls you into his chest. “Shouldn’t have listened in.” He jokes, but you don’t think it’s funny at all and you try to push free from his arms. However you are unsuccessful but Draco apologises. “I shouldn’t have said those things, because I’m just one big softy for you. Nothing tough about me when it comes down to you.” Gently his lips search yours and you’re hesitant at first to kiss your idiotic boyfriend, but when he apologises again you let his lips meet yours for a sweet kiss. 

“So next game, kisses and hugs?” You ask and Draco nods. “Yes. And I don’t think a single slytherin is going to mock us for being too clingy since the only chance we have at winning the quidditch cup is with you by my side.” Nothing tough about Draco at all. Just a needy boyfriend. You think to yourself as you kiss him. 

Enzo

“Pans!” Enzo squeals dramatically as he enters the slytherin common room. “Where is the future missus Berkshire? Can’t find her anywhere.” Before Pansy can answer Enzo’s question Mattheo puts his book down grinning at his friend. “Can’t be without her for even a second?” Enzo’s excitement drops as he notices everyone is looking up now, curious what Enzo’s answer will be. Enzo was always a bit different from his nonchalant and stoic friends. He knew the tough act didn’t suit him and he was confident enough to just be himself, but right now he was a bit worried. He felt himself get nervous and chuckled at Riddle’s question. “Told you, he’s absolutely whipped.” Draco says with an arrogant tone as he raises his eyebrows, challenging Enzo.

“She was at the Library with Luna, but I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.” Pansy finally answers, after rolling her eyes at Draco’s arrogance. “Good, that gives me a few more minutes free of her… because I am not whipped. She’s the one that always wants to be near me.” Mattheo leans back and nods along, pretending to believe Enzo. “Oh really, so why do you keep putting up with it?” Enzo sits down, lounging casually. “I like her so I put up with her clinginess, but honestly I don’t need her around all the time. The hugs and kisses… that’s all her… not me.” 

You had only taken three steps in the common room before stopping. You felt your legs get wobbly at your boyfriend’s words. You take quiet steps backwards and hurry out of the common room. Obviously you were not wanted there.

However, you missed out on Pansy’s loud snickering. “Oh please, Enzo! You liar!” Enzo is absolutely shocked at Pansy’s accusations, but no one else is as all his friends start laughing. “You couldn’t go a day with her.” Draco says, shaking his head at Enzo’ sad attempt at trying to act indifferent towards you. “Alright, alright. I can’t stand being without her! I love her. I need her.” Mattheo laughs, satisfied with Enzo’s confession. “There’s the real Berkshire I know.” Enzo lets his head fall back, bracing for days of mocking and jokes about his attachment to you. 

***

“Oh yeah! Sounds fun. I’ll be there.” Enzo overhears you agreeing to go to Hogsmeade with the golden trio and leans over his desk towards you. “Hey, hey! You can’t go to Hogsmeade with them on Saturday, we were going.” You turn in your seat towards your boyfriend and kiss him on the cheek. “You can go with your friends. We don’t have to do everything together.” Your answer hurts Enzo and his eyebrows knit together. Yes we do, what else is the purpose of a relationship. But before your boyfriend can protest out loud the professor enters the classroom.

***

“Look at her.” Enzo complains to an uncaring Theodore Nott. “The entire week she’s been distant, always better things to do than being with me and now this.” A frustrated Enzo gestures your way and Theo shrugs. “What am I supposed to do?” Enzo whines.

“Kidnap her and lock her up, then you have her all to yourself.” Mattheo suggests, making Theo frown and offer his own advice on the matter. “No, don’t listen to abandonment issues over here. Just get a new girlfriend.” Blaise just facepalms at the realisation he is the only sane one in his friend group. “Ignore both abandonment issues and attachment issues and just go talk to your girlfriend like a normal person.” Blaise emphasises the last words as he glares judgingly at Mattheo and Theo who both act offended. Enzo nods, realising that Blaise was right.

You notice your boyfriend strutting over to you and your friends from across the street and excuse yourself to meet him halfway. “Hey you.” You whisper and Enzo immediately smiles, feeling relieved that you're still your sweet self. “I miss you.” Your boyfriend blurs, even surprising himself with his honesty. “You wanna have dinner together tonight?” You offer, but Enzo shakes his head making you frown. “No. I mean yes, obviously I would like that, but it’s not just that I want to do just one thing with you. We’ve barely spent time together this week.” An uncomfortable laugh escapes you, but you repress it when you notice how sad Enzo’s eyes are. “We’ve spent plenty of time together, besides you’re a guy, you need your space. I don’t want to suffocate you with hugs and kisses all the time.” 

Enzo is baffled at your words. “I’m a guy so I need space. What’s that supposed to mean?” There was a slight tone of agitation in his voice that made you take a step back, but he was quick to close the distance by taking a step closer. “Who put all these crazy ideas in your head of needing to give me space and suffocating me with love?” Your face falls at his harsh tone, but you bite back. “It was you. You were the one that said you wanted to be free of me for a few minutes and that I was the needy one and you had to put up with my clinginess. It was you, Enzo Berkshire, you idiot. So you have no right to complain about me giving you space, since you asked for it.” Enzo’s jaw clenches at your accusation. “I did not!” You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows. “I heard you with Pansy, Matt and Draco.” 

Enzo frowns for a moment, but when he remembers his eyes widen and a laugh escapes his lips. “You believed that?” He asks and you just stare at him in confusion. “They didn’t believe any of it. I was trying to convince them I wasn’t some whipped guy that couldn’t be without his girlfriend for a second, but they saw right through me.” You unfold your arms and Enzo takes your hands in his. “I don’t need space, I need you. So please don’t force me to go days without your hugs and kisses. You don’t suffocate me, if anything I suffocate without you.” You kiss him tenderly and out of excitement Enzo picks you up, making you squeal softly. “Please spend the day with me?” You nod and kiss your boyfriend’s pouty lips.