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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 months

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Do Something About It - LN

Summary: Lando started to notice he was falling for his best friend but it didn't seem like she returned those feelings. Although she does voice her opinion of his choice of company to hook up with.

Best friend!reader also tattooed!reader (not like head to toe)

No part 2 requests please

Y/n and Lando have always laughed at anyone who says they resemble anything of a couple. They've grown up together, Lando was certain he was like a brother.

Then something changed a couple months ago, y/n had what can only be described as a second puberty that took her through a transformation. She was never ugly, or unattractive but she sort of changed her fashion style, she had a new glow about her and people noticed. Much to Lando's growing annoyance, a lot of men noticed.

"Christ, who are you trying to impress?" Lando questions as y/n appears from his bathroom.

They're going out tonight in Monaco and y/n looks as amazing as always, dressing herself in heels (which despite her glow up, she'll be crying about later) and a white short dressed that flashes her legs and allows her thigh tattoo to be on show. It's is unreadable to anyone who actually looks at it, but he knows it's a quote from her favourite song.

"A rich man who wants to spontaneously marry me, change is will for everything to go to me and then die mysteriously." Y/n smirks earning an eye roll while Max looks at her.

"You are a dark-minded individual." Max comments shaking his head. "But Lando is right, you look good."

"Thank you, Max." Y/n smiles before looking at Lando pointedly. "Are we ready to go? I know you're just chomping at the bit to tell me you've been waiting for me."

"Well I am meeting Lottie (sorry to any Lottie's, it's just a random name) when we get there." Lando states checking his watch. "And we are late."

"Fashionably late and she'll be there after us. Probably stalks your location." Y/n snorts having never hidden her dislike of Lando's current choice of company when it comes to women in his bed.

Max pulls a face to the others who are having to be a witness to the bickering as Lando jumps to Lottie's defence.

Truth be told everyone knows that y/n doesn't like Lottie because Lottie isn't a very nice person. She's just the only one with the courage to tell Lando. But they also all know Lando is using Lottie as means of trying to distract himself from y/n and his very obvious growing feelings. If y/n wasn't so oblivious it might be easier to be a witness to it.

"Alright, kiddos. Shut up, and let's go." Max finally cuts in while y/n huffs and moves ahead. "You could just tell her how you feel mate."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lando states with a tone that tells Max to keep himself quiet.

"Alright, if that's how you want to play it." Max shrugs since it's not his problem really, he does wants Lando and y/n to be happy and he thinks they would be if Lando would just stop being a jealous prick.

It also doesn't help that Lottie always seems to be on a mission to provoke y/n a reaction out of y/n in how her and Lando go about with each other. As if she knows that y/n has a protectiveness over Land and as if she knows Lando is using her as a means to forget his feelings for y/n.

Lando is usually pretty good at paying attention to other things when it comes to y/n flirting with men on nights out. but there's something different about this one. She's not just flirting, there's something in the way the man is just lightly drawing shapes on her thigh as they talk.

Her lips keep brushing his ear when she leans in to speak to him over the music, she's laughing with him and it looks like every word he says is working a charm to make her eyes sparkle in desire. Lando can't decide if he's going blind, going to be sick or actually shaking with the anger from his jealousy.

"Lando." Lottie snaps making his gaze finally tear from over her shoulder.

"What?" Lando huffs hoping he didn't sound as irritated out loud as he feels.

"I was just saying, do you want to get out of here?" Lottie asks gently stroking up his arm.

"Yeah, I'm done." Lando nods then picking up his drink and managing to down the rest of it, not exactly his ideal of how to finish the night but he can't sit and watch y/n anymore. "You go ahead outside, I'm just going to let Max know."

Lottie thankfully disappears but Lando heads over to y/n, not caring around how rude he's being as he interrupts the conversation.

"It's shit here, we're leaving. Are you coming with us or staying with him?" Lando questions watching her retract back in shock of his attitude.

Lando has been moody with her before but usually alcohol loosens any tension that's built up between them.

"I'm sorry, will you excuse us? I'll be right back." Y/n laughs lightly, trying to remain composed as she places her hand on the man's thigh then standing up with her usual smile but her grip on Lando's wrist with her nails digging into his skin is not quite a poised and calm as she appears.

She tugs them out to the balcony of the club where people tend to go when they want to smoke, though it's empty at the moment.

"What the fuck was that? Are you deranged?" Y/n questions dropping Lando's wrist as she glare at him. "I was getting along with him."

"He was a nonce."

"He's 32 and I am in my 20s, not a child." Y/n scoffs then looking at him. "Not that I even know why that would matter to you."

"So you're allowed to voice your opinion about who I decide to have in my bed but I'm not allowed to voice my opinion about who you have in yours? And you don't save it for when she's not around either." Lando states making her almost laugh.

"I speak up because it's so obvious she's using you for money and fame-that guy would've been one night of fun for fuck sake. Not someone I keep bringing back around for you to have to endure the presence of." Y/n states before Max appears and she turns to him. "Can you put him on a leash? He's acting like a dick."

"I asked if you were coming with us or staying here."

"You marched over and interrupted with no regard at all. I mean seriously, what is wrong with you right now?" Y/n questions laughing through her words in disbelief. "What is happening?" Then she turns to Max. "Do you know what the hell is happening?"

"I..." Max tries feeling that something is about to snap in one of them to meet the tipping point of this conversation, it's just figuring out who.

"See? Not even Max can explain why you're acting this ridiculous."

"Because I'm sick of seeing you with other men!"

That was definitely the last chug of his drink finally kicking into gear.

Y/n is visibly stunned and silent, the shock on her expression doesn't need to be verbalised by her.

"Maybe we should all just get out of here." Max suggests wanting to diffuse the situation that he feels suffocated by, so he can only imagine how it feels for the two of them.

"No. What do you mean you're sick of seeing me with other men? What-What the fuck does that even mean?" Y/n chokes out while Lando feels his mouth dry up. "Lando?"

"You guys shouldn't do this now." Max mumbles earnings a glare from the young woman which almost questions why he's even there. "Sorry. I'll just be inside if you guys need me."

Leaving the two to hash out what Lando just admitted is maybe not the best thing to do when they've been drinking, but it's obvious y/n won't be letting Lando leave.

"Are you doing to explain or just stay quiet?" Y/n questions slightly more softly but there's an edge to her tone that he can read easily enough. Then when she speaks again it's almost desperation. "Please talk to me, Lando."

"I hate seeing you with all those fucking guys. Every single one of them. Every time you bail on me to go home with some random guy, I want to drag you back from leaving with them." Lando admits keeping his gaze trained everywhere but on her.

This is either going to end the way Lando wishes it would or he's going to lose her, he's risking it and he knows it but the better of the outcomes would probably make everything finally feel right between them.

"I don't know really when or why things changed because we've bene friends for so long and I was-it was great being friends, but I started to feel different when it comes to you and every time I see you with another guy, I actually feel like hitting him with a car."

Y/n just looks at Lando in shock for a moment and then...she starts laughing. A hard laugh straight from the bottom of her stomach, she even moves to the edge to hold on to the railing for stability.

"Lando, have you-you've lost it, haven't you? You stand there and you get jealous. You literally hook up with Lottie who is the worst person on the planet then expect me to believe you're secretly holding back feelings for me. Whatever you drank. I need-"

"I sleep with Lottie because I can't stop thinking about you and I need to try and distract myself." Lando snaps the muttering a few more colourful words. "I know Lottie is a bitch, but I chose the easiest person who I could keep on hand for when I needed to try and stop myself from fucking things up with you."

Y/n swallows then biting her lip for a moment as her gaze flicks inside, presumably considering the fact that Max's silhouette is visible through the glass of the doors.

"We should probably go. Max was right, we shouldn't be doing this now."

And if there was ever a point Lando has been tempted to jump off a balcony. It was now.

There's a few beats of silence before she shifts forward and offers her hand, possibly her version of an olive branch to keep the peace for now.

"I just think we need to be sober." Y/n mumbles looking so completely relieved when Lando links his hand to her own allowing her to lead them inside, stopping when she sees Max. "We need to leave."

"Yeah-Yeah, let's go." Max nods pulling out his phone. "I'll just let everyone on the group chat. No point trying to track them down."

Walking out, Lando had forgot about Lottie and when he spots her once they're outside he can't help but curse to himself about it.

"Fuck." Lando mumbles as she walks up to them.

"Where the hell have you been?" Lottie exclaims making y/n's hand drop from his immediately.

"Sorry, we got caught up."

Lottie sadly has to come back with them because Monaco doesn't really have last minute options for hotels. Lando is certain you can't just randomly book for a room on the spot. So it's going to be an awkward night that's for sure.

"You could've said something." Y/n mumbles as she moves to climb in bed with Max since they're sharing the spare room.

"It didn't feel like my place to tell you...and you wouldn't have believed me." Max shrugs then pausing. "What are you going to do?"

Y/n doesn't answer. She considers answering. She considers discussing the whole thing for the whole night and forcing Max to stay awake through her every thought process. But she figures she'll save him from enduring that.

"I'm just going to the bathroom." Y/n mumbles since she needs to take off her make up and really get herself cleaned up from the night.

Though as she steps into the bathroom, Lando manages to slide in behind her and close the door.

"I don't want to wait, I'm sober enough to remember this." Lando states making y/n sigh and slump a little. "Y/n...I just want to know if I've completely fucked up and you're going to left here and never talk to me again."

"Lando, that would never happen. Even if you still acted like a dick before spilling your guts." Y/n murmurs using some cleansing balm after removing her false lashes. "I don't know how I feel about you Lando, it's just not as simple for me to say that I feel the same. Because I've always tried to stay away from even letting myself think like that."

"You realise, if you've had to stop yourself, then it means you have." Lando mumbles earning a pointed look. "I'm just saying."

"You've just said a lot tonight. I need...time to process and preferably time to process without alcohol possibly clouding my judgement."

"Well I'll help. Is it clouding your judgement in a way that could...change sleeping arrangements tonight?"

"You are not kicking Max out the spare room to sleep on the sofa." Y/n laughs already knowing exactly what is going to be suggested by him.

"Can I at least squish in with you guys? Lottie keeps trying to get in my pants and I'm not in the mood." Lando tries while she suppress a smile. "Not for her at least."

"I'm using Max as a barrier. He's squished in the middle."

"That's fine with me."

And it is, only because he's had to share a bed with Max and another person before and Max seems to try to get as far from Lando as possible during his own sleep. Which means y/n is like going to regret having Max take the middle spot.

After y/n finishes her skin care the two get out the bathroom and in time for Max to appear, presumably needing the toilet.

"What were you two doing?" Max questions eyeing them suspiciously.

"Lando was just begging to be in our bed, you're in the middle." Y/n smiles brightly, patting his shoulder as she walks past while Max looks at Lando in disbelief.

"Really?" Max huffs since he definitely feels like he's being dragged literally into the middle of something he'd rather not be involved in anymore than he already has been.

"Lottie keeps feeling me up, man."

"So you're going to sleep in bed with me and the girl you just confessed having been jealous about?" Max hums though it's really a rhetorical question but Lando just shrugs and manages a smile.

Eventually he finds himself laid in bed and when Max returns they are all pretty quick to fall asleep.

He does stir enough to hear y/n mumbling something to Max but only get something incoherant back. Then a shift, shuffle and thud a little while later.

"Max!" Y/n hisses making Lando groan while Max is unresponsive with nothing more than a slight grunt of his sleep being disturbed but not enough for him to actually wake up. "You two are the worst people to share a bed with. One o literally pushes me out of bed and Lando, you snore."

"Just come lie over here, he's out." Lando mumbles though he can't help but smile at her tired grumbling about his snoring. "Come on."

Y/n grumbles but seems too tired to argue as she moves around and climbs into the bed next to Lando so he's now in the middle raising the blanket for her to climb in and she drops down. Not even caring that Lando sort of takes the opportunity to cuddle her. Which might sound a little bad, but the two aren't actually strangers to cuddling as friends.

But even with him snoring behind her, she does manage to sleep better than being shoved out the bed by Max.

By the time y/n wakes up, she finds herself with her face completely pressed into another body. She's almost ashamed to say she knows for certain who it is purely from the smell and she sort of takes a moment breathing in the soft residue of his aftershave.

"Weirdo." Lando states making her her groan and roll away from him, or at least try to. "No. I'm sorry, I ruined the moment. Keeping sniffing me."

"No. I gotta-Lando." Y/n laughs as she's overpowered and dragged back against him. "Where's Max?"

"I don't know. Not in here with us." Lando mutters then pressing his face into her next as he takes the opportunity to return the favour of breathing in her scent. "You smell good."

"Thanks, the perfume is expensive." Y/n jokes but there's a wobbly nervousness on her tone. "Are you sure about what you said last night?"

"Yes." Lando states in a serious tone making her roll back to face him. "I meant every word and I still mean every word."

"Ok." Y/n nods lightly before swallowing thickly. "Ok."

"Ok means?" Lando nudges making her look at him, gaze caught for a burning moment before she almost twitches forward then back and while Lando has the temptation to finish the action, he just waits knowing not to push her if she's not sure.

But after a couple more moments pass she closes the space and the soft press of her lips on his own feels like she's just triggered an addiction he didn't even know he had. He can't even stop himself when he moves to pull her on top of him, not breaking the kiss.

Neither of them are even sure how long passes, neither of them even want to stop even if sex feels like it might be a step too far too quickly.

"As amazing as you taste-" is she trying to put him into cardiac arrest? "-but my stomach keeps growling...I'm starving."

"Ok, we can get something to eat." Lando laughs while she smiles and hides her face in his chest, laughing herself. "Yeah. We'll get something to eat. I'm hungry too now I think about it."

Max must've been polite enough to show Lottie out or she left on her own accord. Lando will have to speak will her to make the situation between them clear.

"You know, I love your tattoos." Lando comments tracing over the curly writing on her thigh, having nudged the borrowed shorts up so he can access it. "Where's the 4 tattoo?"

Y/n had mentioned a while ago that she had a hidden tattoo for Lando's driver number but she told him he'd have to guess where it was or find it since it's not out in the open making it easy to find.

"Where do you think it is?" Y/n asks making him frown.

"The bottom of your foot."

"Oh god...no. But that might've been smarter though." She sighs before slumping down a little from her spot on the sofa, shuffling till she's leaning very much back, then she pushes the shorts down and reveals her hip where the number 4 sits. Actually in the style of the empty space that makes the number in his logo. No LN but the 4 makes him smile. "Don't look it like that. It was for your stupid brands video."

Yes. A Quadrant video that landed her with a tattoo. Max's idea obviously and he thought it was hilarious. But since it's not out yet, y/n said she didn't want to show him.

It was actually filmed pretty far in advance so the tattoo has healed but Lando still hadn't see it.

"That's so cool." Lando grins while she rolls her eyes a little since he's defintiely got some bias. "I'm inked on your forever now."

"Yeah, one of the reason I could never end the friendship." Y/n jokes before sighing and tilting her head. "We're going to be a pretty go couple."

"An improvement on being jealous of each other and constantly giving me a headache." Max comments appearing seemingly from nowhere. "I do like the tattoo though."

"Your idea. If you didn't like it. I'd tattoo it on your forehead."

"That!-is an amazing idea. We should do that." Lando grins looking at Max who fakes a laugh.

"Can you two go back to bickering?" Max questions earning a middle finger from both of them. "I'm just glad one of you did something about it. I thought it'd take y/n getting engaged for Lando to snap."

Y/n wrinkles her nose while Lando's smile drops to a more serious expression before y/n nudges him with her foot after spotting his change of mood just from the thought.

"Stop frowning, it didn't happen." Y/n laughs before sighing as she pulls the shorts back up to cover the tattoo. "I just hope the tattoo curse doesn't hit us in the worst way."

"You're not that lucky to get away from him because of a tattoo." Max comments and though he joking he does have a cushion launched at his head from Lando.

"Aww...don't be mean." Y/n laughs then grinning when Lando flops down against her in a hug. "You're just annoyed that you're the third wheel now."

"I was always the third wheel with the two of you. I wasn't as blind as you or in as much denial as him." Max smiles and though he might sound bitter, he's actually happy to see the two of them finally together. It's been far too long in the waiting. "I'll happily third wheel till P is around again."

Y/n only hums before being caught in another kiss from Lando that she can quite literally feel him smiling into. He's definitely kissing her to prove a point of Max being the third wheel. But she's certainly not going to stop him.

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris

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hotvintagepoll · 1 month

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Propaganda

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

Maggie Smith (The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie)— Look, ok she's best known now for Downton Abbey and the Potter franchise, but the woman won an Oscar in 1969, so that makes her eligible in my oh so humble opinion. She starred opposite Olivier in her first major play role (which was filmed) and her wit and beauty was just the epitome of everything I wanted to be as a child

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

Maggie Smith:

#maggie smith #eartha kitt #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 2

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nkogneatho · 7 months

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۪۫❁ུ۪۪𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 °࿐

—a/n: first thing i wrote after hiatus so still a bit rusty but i tried my best to deliver my emotions. If this gets good response, I'll do part 2. Not proofread. fem!reader

#mlist #taglist #art commissions

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒

For someone who's so confident, Satoru for the first time found himself anxious, legs trembling in the wonderment of what his bext action should be. He was standing at the altar in his neat pale grey suit. All eyes were fixated on him. But that's not what made him nervous. It was how he would react when he sees you. And just then, you appeared like the fragment of his best intentions.

The wedding band started playing the theme. Your white flowy satin dress dancing to the rhythm of the wind. Your beautiful face concealed a little from the veil. You looked so perfect. And just when you finally reached the altar, you stood parallel to him, smiling and satisfied with his reaction. You've never seen him so engorged in something—or someone.

The minister asked him to proceed with the vows.

"Y/N L/N. I usually am the one to talk a lot. But for the first time, I am short of words." You smiled at him.

"I think it's crazy how I see you everyday, but somehow you still manage to take my breath away with how beautiful you are. I know I call myself the honored one...but trust me darling, I am nothing but a fish in your ocean. You...you are my everything. And when I say that, I mean it. I want you to know that if the world is ever against you, I'll be in the front protecting you with all I have. I love you so much, baby." It feels like he's choking on his words.

This man that just said thst he's at loss for words, proceeded to make you tear up with a poetry. You've never been love so much in life. It feels unreal. But you know it's all true when as soon as you say "I do" his lips are on yours, reminding that every touch you feel is real.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

The hall was decorated with white lillies and tulips that you loved so much. People grooving and chattering to the background music. Soon it was time for the moment you've been waiting for. The dance. Your first dance with Geto. The lights dimmed and the spotlight hit the floor as you and Suguru walked into the bright refraction on the floor. The crowd dispersing away to give the newly married couple their full attention.

One of his hands was on your waist while the other intertwined one of yours.

Put your head on my shouuulder...

You both smiled wide as you couldn't have asked for a better song. This was the song that you once told Geto you'd like to dance to. Since then, he remembered to play twirl you around to Paul Anka at every occasion. And this one had to be the best one yet.

Hold me in your arms, baby...

He mouthed the words and you couldn't help but giggle. Suguru doesn't usually sing but he has this deep voice that blend perfectly to the song. It sounds like heaven.

"Get ready to dance to this every anniversary, my love," he whispered.

The room was filled with so many people. Yet, when your eyes recasted your signature "i love you" look, he suddenly felt the world disappear, and only you two exist.

That's when he realized, he really did get lucky when you fell in love with him.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

As always, you woke up late. It's surprising how Toji looks like the one who'd be irresponsible when it's actually you. But hey! He can't complain about it. Weddings and Receptions are tiring. If he could, he'd let you sleep for one whole day if you didn't have a flight to catch. You quickly got dressed and rushed to the airport with your man.

The flight was awful since you were irritated by the snorer next to you. Trust me. You wanted to stuff the macadamia nuts in his nostrils but Toji stopped you from doing so. He had a better and more rational solution of putting headphones over your ears and playing you your favorite song. Your lips widened when his thumb started circling your thighs to calm you and make you relax.

Upon arriving to the hotel, you finally took a big stretch to wash all the tiredness away.

"IT'S HONEYMOON TIME, BABY!!"

You jumped in excitement and pretty much everyone at the entrance was staring at you and Toji. He won't stop you though. He loves watching you dance around everytime you're happy.

You both walked towards the receptionist, with Toji carrying all the luggage. Gotta use the big beefy man privilege baby.

"Good afternoon. How may I help you?"

"Good afternoon. We reserved a suite here a week ago."

"Okay. May I please know the name you reserved it under?" she asked.

"Oh it's Mr. And Mrs. Fushiguro." The moment those words left your lips, Toji felt his world shift. He knew that you were a Fushiguro whenyou signed the marriage certificate. He knew it when you said "I do" at the altar. He knew it when he placed the ring on your finger. But hearing it from your mouth made him have butterflies in his stomach. Wow. You are really his. He couldn't for one second believe it.

"So this is how heaven feels like," he mumbled.

"You said something, baby?"

"Oh nothing, my love. Just that you're beautiful "

"I'm running in four hours of sleep. My under eyes are darker than your black shirt," you whispered.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're still the most beautiful person to exist," he argued and you just rolled your eyes. You genuinely wanted to know how he manages to find you beautiful at every occasion.

"Are you in denial?"

"No, darling. I am in love."

Taglist: @sugurini @princess-okkotsu @saturnsoups @cookingforsatoru @oldbutnotold @rin-vana @bimbno @arisaturn @tojigasam @bxrnthyfears @gojoxxluv @seqeva @nanamikentoseyebags @stariwrites @sluttoru @lvmxn @greycaelum @kokonoiscoconut @deskaisers @icyowl @thesimphouse @anxious-chick @monimonieee @sweet-yzabelle @keichartreusely @arguablyferal @kannra21 @bbytamaki @rwibbnz @ta-ni-ya @mamayan @strawwbee @jesi-pinkman @fueledbysano @psychiccloudobject @baewriites @wystericwoes @his-saiko

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steddiealltheway · 7 months

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Steve lays in his bed with thoughts of Eddie in the boathouse. For some reason, he wants to go to him. Hell, he knows he probably can't sleep, and they need him as well rested as they can so he can stay on alert through this whole hunt the freak thing.

Plus, a small part of him knows what it's like to be stuck with your thoughts late at night after dealing with the Upside Down shit. And it's not pleasant. Especially alone.

Another part of him knows that Dustin would never be okay if something happened to Eddie after they told him things would be fine.

But things will be fine. Especially if Steve goes to the boathouse and keeps watch for part of the night.

He throws on some more layers and grabs a protein bar for Eddie before driving that way, trying not to get too weirded out by the concept of him hanging out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

Hopefully this time he won't be threatened with that damn broken bottle.

He pulls up a little ways away from Reefer Rick's place and parks before grabbing his nail bat and creeping his way to the shed. He rounds the side toward the door and knocks lightly, whisper yelling, "Eddie! It's Steve! Open up!"

He waits a few moments before sighing and raising his voice. "I'm opening the door. Just don't kill me."

He slowly opens the door, glancing around the boathouse and finding it empty. He glances at the tarp over the boat and sighs, "Eddie, I know you're under there. It's just me."

The tarp shifts slightly, and Steve stares up at the ceiling in annoyance. "Okay, I get it. You don't trust me, and you have no reason to really. But we both know Dustin would kill me if I ever attempted to hurt you or turn you in. Plus, I know you're innocent, so I'm just going to stay here until you come out." He pauses before adding on, "I'll even hum so you know where I am."

He starts humming the first song that comes to mind which ends up being "Everybody Wants to Rule the World."

The tarp shifts and Steve watches as Eddie slowly reveals himself, bottle in hand, pointed at Steve. His eyes flicker to the bat in Steve's hand.

Steve stops humming. "It's for your safety," he says, lifting it up a little.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, and Steve gets the message before he drops the bat and raises his hands in surrender.

Eddie nods at him. "What's in your hand?"

Steve glances up and tosses the protein bar at Eddie. "Food," he says as Eddie curses, failing to catch the bar.

Steve takes a step closer but Eddie holds out the bottle to him and stands up. "Why are you here?"

"To make sure you're safe."

He looks unconvinced.

Steve shrugs and crosses his arms. "Okay, I know what it's like trying to process all this shit on your own, and it sucks, man. I didn't have anyone with me the first night after everything went down, and I didn't think I would make it through the night without that thing coming back."

"So what? You're here to help the freak with no ulterior motive, and I'm supposed to believe that?"

"You can tell me to leave, but I don't really want to spend the night alone either," Steve confesses, hoping that it will help Eddie trust him a bit.

Eddie only stares at him for a few moments before leaning out of the boat to pick up the bat before sitting down and picking up the protein bar. He unwraps it and bites off half of it before asking, "Tears for Fears, really?"

It takes a second for Steve to really understand what Eddie's asking before he smiles slightly. "That's what you're worried about?"

Eddie shrugs, taking around his mouthful, "I was just wondering if you really thought that's the type of music I'm into."

"It's the first song that came to mind. But no. I know you're into that metal stuff that Mike's been going on about." Steve takes a tentative step forward, watching the way Eddie's eyes follow the step.

He raises his eyebrows when Eddie glances up at him and shifts a bit before gesturing to the spot in front of him. Steve takes the invitation and sits in front of him, shifting a bit around the boat before grimacing.

"I bet you're missing your bed," Eddie comments as he finishes off the bar, dropping the wrapper in the boat before grabbing his broken bottle again. Luckily this time, he doesn't point it in Steve's direction.

"A bit," Steve confesses as he fails to get comfortable. He wishes he could take Eddie back to his home and maybe even give him the guest bedroom so he doesn't have to stay here.

Wait.

Steve glances up to where Eddie is tightly gripping the handle of his bat and the neck of the broken bottle and slowly reaches out his hand, asking for the bat. As Eddie hands it over reluctantly, Steve says, "Why don't you stay at my house for now? No one would guess you would be there."

Eddie snorts and shakes his head. "I'm not risking you getting caught with me."

"Well, it's too late for that." Steve says before circling back a bit to ask, "Why?"

Eddie shrugs and glances down at the bottle. "Because Dustin would kill me."

Steve sighs and lays the bat on the side of the boat. "You can hide in the back of my car on the drive there. It'll be easy to sneak you in."

"And your parents?"

"Gone for the foreseeable future. And even if they do come back, I can hide you in my closet or something."

Eddie shoots him a look. "Comfortable."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Eddie glances around the boathouse. "I don't mind staying here at the moment."

Steve's not sure why he wants to fight him on it so bad, but he gives in and says, "Just consider it after we've killed Vecna and we're going through the whole clearing your name process, okay?"

"Why?"

The question takes Steve off guard, but he easily deflects saying, "Because Dustin would kill me."

Eddie nods and looks off, getting that same far-off haunted look on his face. Before Steve can attempt to distract him Eddie snaps out of it asking, "And if someone comes here now, how will you explain why you're here?"

Steve glances around and looks at the windows and door. "Okay, maybe we should get under the tarp before that happens."

Eddie stares at him. "You want to get cozy with me in this boat?"

"I want to save both of our asses for now. If we hear something, we stay hidden, and if they come inside, we grab the bat and bottle and we attack." Get cozy with him?

Eddie sighs, "Can't wait," before shifting to sit next to Steve, placing his bottle carefully down toward the end of the boat before grabbing the tarp.

Steve shifts the bat, nails side at the end of the boat and shifts to lay back.

Eddie glances down at him and asks, "Ready?"

Steve nods as Eddie pulls the tarp over them and lays back. In the process, he ends up jostling Steve and shifting him to the side, almost getting his leg stabbed by the bat as Eddie curses about the bottle. They both shift to face each other, quickly noticing that they're around the same height with the way their feet are knocking into each other their breath is mingling together.

It is very weirdly intimate.

"Steve?" Eddie asks.

Steve hums in response.

"Maybe we should pull the tarp back until we hear something."

"Great plan," Steve says quickly, reaching up to pull the tarp back a bit.

There's a bit of moonlight shining through the windows which illuminates Eddie's face enough for Steve to be able to admire him. Steve blames the intimate position for his thoughts about how Eddie "The Freak" Munson is kind of beautiful.

Eddie's eyebrows furrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Steve quickly looks away and lies, "Just thinking."

"About?"

Steve takes a moment and readjusts a bit. "Just never thought I would be hanging out with you."

Eddie shifts as well, accidentally brushing his hand against where Steve's own hand lies between them. Eddie's hand shoots back to his chest. "if it makes you feel better, I wouldn't call this hanging out. We're just two people who are linked through some supernatural shit with parallel worlds and are trying to keep each other alive so Dustin doesn't kill us." He lets out a slow deep breath through his nose and glances away. "It doesn't have to mean anything. Trust me, I know you wouldn't be here unless you had to be."

Steve lets the feeling of regret run through him. "That's not what I meant."

"No?" Eddie challenges him.

"No," Steve confesses. "Dustin didn't ask me to come here, you know."

"So, you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" Eddie asks, tone dripping with disbelief.

"I didn't want you to be alone."

"Yeah, you said that before."

Steve's eyebrows furrow. "And?"

"And I'm sorry if I have trouble believing it."

Steve just blinks at him, unsure what to say other than his usual apology for being an asshole in high school.

Eddie beats him to it and sighs, "You're just... Steve Harrington. And I'm 'The Freak.'"

Steve can't help but snarkily reply, "I didn't realize that was your legal name."

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

As much as he hates it, Steve does understand what he means. He looks him in the eye and says, "You know if I could go back and change how I was in high school, I would. Because, trust me, being 'King Steve' was not all that it was chalked up to be. And everyone I love still sees me that way. It's like they're waiting for that guy to come back or something because they're always in disbelief that I've changed or whatever. It's all just... bullshit." He sighs out the word, trying not to think too hard about understanding what Nancy meant when she called him it.

Eddie continues to stare at him, eyes wandering over his face as if he's trying to make his own assessment of him. Or as if he's waiting for the real Steve to pop out, the inevitable asshole. Instead, he just says, "You're different than I imagined."

"Is that a good thing?" Steve can't help but ask.

"Give me a business day or two, and I'll get back to you about it," Eddie says with a smile.

The response startles a laugh out of Steve which he quickly covers with his hand before he rests it in the space between them. "Maybe you're different, too."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks.

"I thought you'd be way less willing to accept my presence here."

Eddie shrugs the shoulder he isn't laying on. "Well, being alone seemed to be slightly more appalling than spending time with you." He smiles and nudges him with his foot. "I'm joking. At least, now I'm joking."

Steve rolls his eyes and nudges Eddie with a little too much force, sending them both off balance and causing Steve to end up a bit sprawled out on top of Eddie who stares up at him with wide eyes.

For some reason, the new angle really does something for Steve who can only think of kissing Eddie. He leans back and takes a deep breath before an idea strikes him. He blames his tired, anxiety-ridden mind on the reason for voicing his thought, "You know, I can think of a better way to explain why I'm here if someone comes in."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, face carefully blank but a heavy swallow gives him away.

Steve shrugs. "Who is to question King Steve hooking up with some random girl in Reefer Rick's empty boathouse?"

"Christ," Eddie mumbles out, eyes flicking down to Steve's lips. "Are you suggesting we...?"

Steve looks down at him innocently. "I mean, if it comes down to it, I would be down to kiss you. Your hair is long enough to hide your face," he turns to the door and windows, "And from this angle, they would barely catch a glimpse of you."

Eddie swallows again and breathes out, "You're definitely not what I thought you'd be like."

"And is that-"

"A good thing?" Eddie finishes for him. "Yeah, I would say it is definitely a good thing."

Steve smiles down at him and is about to shift off of him when there's a sudden noise outside of the boathouse. He feels Eddie freeze beneath him.

"Steve... I know it was probably a joke, but either cover us with the tarp or kiss me," Eddie whispers quickly.

Steve reaches out for the tarp and pulls it over their heads, noticing the slight look of disappointment on Eddie's face before the tarp blocks out the light. His hands reach out, landing on Eddie's chest before trailing up to cup his jaw.

"What are you doing?" Eddie whispers. Steve can feel his heart thudding in his chest impossibly faster at the sensation.

"Why not do both?" Steve whispers into the air between them.

He waits as Eddie's own hands come up to his shoulders, tracing their way into Steve's hair. "Both. Yeah. Both are good."

Steve's not sure who moves first, but their kiss is frenzied, filled with the anxiety of Hawkins crumbling around them along with the possibility of Eddie being caught, mixed with the fact that they're "The Hair" and "The Freak." And this is not supposed to be happening.

But Steve doesn't care. He deepens the kiss, groaning when Eddie tugs at his hair and pulls him closer. God, Steve can practically feel the kiss go through his full body, and he can't remember the last time a kiss made him feel like this.

The air around them under the tarp gets warmer as the kiss goes on, and Steve finds himself breaking away for air only to chase Eddie's lips again. It's all intoxicating. And the warm air makes it feel like he isn't getting enough air as Eddie practically sucks it out of him.

He breaks away and gasps, "God, I want to lift the tarp, but I can't risk anyone seeing you."

Eddie doesn't answer, he just pulls the tarp slightly off them before pulling Steve into another kiss. Steve can barely register the relief of the cool air hitting the back of his damp neck as he gets lost in Eddie.

"Can't see me remember?" Eddie says against Steve's lips.

"They can- mmm. See the rings," Steve manages to get out.

Eddie's hands slowly drift down Steve's back, resting on the dip of his spine that's still under the tarp. "Better?"

Steve pulls back and looks down at Eddie, his mouth pink and damp, cheeks flushed red, pupils blown wide. "God, you're beautiful," Steve says without thinking.

Eddie stares at him for a moment, face carefully blank before he glances at the window. "Do you think they're still here?"

Steve glances out the window and debates what to say next. He settles with the truth. "I'm pretty sure it was just a branch that hit the window."

Eddie nods and worries his bottom lip, not looking at Steve. He's still struggling to catch his breath, but Steve can't say much when he is equally as winded.

Steve pauses and says, "But maybe someone's out there. Or..." He shakes his head, trying not to finish the thought out loud.

"Or what?" Eddie asks.

"Or maybe I just want to kiss you again," Steve confesses.

Eddie looks up at him and pauses, eyes searching Steve's face for something. He glances toward the window and says, "I can't exactly be on high alert if you kiss me again, but..." he glances at Steve and finishes his thought, "I think it's worth the risk."

"If you really think about it, it's more risky if I stop kissing you."

Eddie tilts his head in confusion. "And why's that?"

"Because I'll only be able to think about kissing you again and won't be on high alert," Steve flirts easily. "And really, it's a great cover."

Eddie smiles and even momentarily laughs. "You're so full of shit," he says, but pulls Steve down to him, kissing him again with the same frenzied energy.

Only, Steve pulls away and winks at him. "We've got all night. We can take it slow."

"I think you're going to kill me."

Steve brushes a strand of hair out of his face. "And is that-"

"A good thing?" Eddie finishes for him again. "Yes," he answers, kissing Steve again but slowly, taking his time with him.

It's fair to say that Steve's original plan of keeping watch and letting Eddie sleep goes out the window, but he's pretty sure it's worth it.

It's definitely worth it.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #all of this to explain steve's little finger waggle wave at Eddie the next morning

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steddieas-shegoes · 13 days

Text

shit talkin' up all night

for @steddiesongfics song 'for the first time' by the script

rated m | 1,469 words | cw: alcohol, arguing | tags: angst with a happy ending, established relationship, robin buckley deserves an award for saving their relationship everyone say thank you robin, they're in love, eddie is just dumb for a bit

◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️

The arguing started when Steve suggested they move back in with Wayne.

They were struggling; Eddie wasn't an idiot, he could see the told his unemployment was taking on their financial situation. They were able to cover rent from Steve's paycheck, but they had to cut back on literally everything else. No more date nights, no more trips to visit Dustin, no more buying the good bacon for breakfast.

It wasn't for lack of trying, it's just that Eddie only had a GED and no marketable skills outside of playing music. Any job he could get would make miserable.

"I just think if we take some time to save up, maybe you'll be able to find something you like and then it'll be better," Steve shrugged.

"I'm not moving back in with Wayne. He did enough for me already."

"Then I'll get another job."

"No, you're not working two jobs. I'll just...go work at the McDonald's."

"Eds, you would hate it there."

"Well, it's a paycheck."

Steve sighed and walked away.

And then it got worse.

Eddie did find a job. He worked part time at the music lesson school. It didn't pay nearly enough, but it was something.

Until one of the parents found out he was working there and threw a fit and he got fired. The owner apologized, but said if it came down to his business and Eddie, he had to let Eddie go.

Back to square one.

Steve was too understanding. It was frustrating.

Eddie started arguments just to make him mad.

Whatever would push him: leaving all the dirty dishes in the sink, staying out late without letting him know, buying the good bacon for breakfast when it wasn't in the budget.

It did start to work eventually.

"Why are you doing this?" Steve asked eventually, after two nights of Eddie coming home late for no other reason than to make Steve upset. He hadn't even done anything, just walked around downtown for a couple hours and thought about how much of a failure he'd been.

"I'm not doing anything," he'd say back.

Steve would push.

Eddie would push back.

Little things turned into big things.

And then Eddie came home drunk.

He hadn't even been to a bar, he hadn't been with anyone else. He'd gotten one six pack of beer and realized halfway through it that he hadn't eaten all day and kept drinking anyway.

The buzz was great until he was stumbling through the front door, waking Steve up from his half-slumber on the couch of the apartment.

Steve didn't even argue. He just shook his head and went to their bedroom, closing the door and making it clear he didn't want to be around Eddie.

The next morning, Steve was already gone when Eddie managed to roll off the couch.

"Steve's not gonna say it, so I will," Robin's voice made him trip over his boots on the floor. She was sitting in the armchair, glaring at him. "You're pushing him away because you don't think you deserve someone who is patient and loving. He used to try that shit with me, with the kids, with Hopper. Started shit just to see if we'd leave. Pretended he was the only one who could deal with his problems."

Eddie blinked back at her, vision blurry from sleep and unshed tears. He wasn't gonna cry in front of Robin.

"I could understand why he did it. He had shitty parents and shitty friends before all of us. Took him some time to get used to being cared for." Robin leaned forward. "But you've had Wayne for a long time. Us. Steve. So what is it that's causing this? Why are you hurting Steve? Why are you hurting yourself?"

Eddie had been to therapy for a month or so after everything. The government insisted on it. He'd even done what they asked of him. Talked about everything that happened, talked about his childhood, talked about being gay in a town that thought being gay was bad enough to send you to hell, but somehow still the least of Eddie's crimes.

The therapist told him it seemed like he was always preparing himself to get hurt, even with the people that he did trust. That was the last time he went to the therapist.

"Because this is all I'll ever be, Robin! Steve should get out while he can, find someone who isn't fuckin' useless. Someone who can get a real job or go to school or something."

"Is this because you can't be on your feet for more than a couple hours?"

Eddie was silent.

"Do you think that means you can't do things? Do you think Steve wants to watch you suffer more than you already have?"

Eddie shook his head once.

"Then here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna shower and clean up the house a little. You're gonna cook that chicken dish Steve loves so much because I went to the deli to get fresh ingredients for you. You're gonna open that bottle of wine I did not steal from Chrissy's restaurant. You're gonna talk to him."

"Okay."

"And then tomorrow, you're gonna come interview for a job at the museum. They're opening a new exhibit called Rock Through The Ages and they're looking for someone to do tours. It's four hours a day, five days a week. Pay is more than you made anywhere else plus tips. Interview is a formality, they already know you're qualified."

"Robin, I-"

"And you're gonna shut up. I love you, too, Eddie. And I love that dingus who loves you. So get your shit together so you can both be as happy as I know you can be."

Eddie hugged her for a long time, probably much longer than Robin would have ever allowed him to if it weren't for the circumstances.

He cleaned himself up, he cleaned up the apartment, he cooked dinner, and he opened the bottle of wine.

Neither of them were big fans of wine, but this was a $100 bottle. Eddie would drink every last drop.

When Steve came through the door at 4:39 on the dot, just like he did every week day, Eddie was holding a glass of wine out to him with a small smile.

"Eds? What's this?"

"Been a while since we've had a date night. Thought maybe we deserved it."

Steve stared back at him blankly, then let out a sob and walked over to him, burying his face in his neck.

"Sh, it's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here," Eddie wrapped him up in his arms, kissing his head. "I'm here."

"You promise?" Steve's broken voice nearly tore Eddie in two. How had he let it get this bad?

"I promise, Stevie. I'm sorry I've been somewhere else in my head."

Steve pulled away, sniffling and looking around the room as he realized that dinner was already set out on the bar and the dishes were done.

"You did all this for me?"

"For us."

"Is that chicken cacciatore?" Steve walked to the plate in his usual spot and smiled. "You made this?"

"I did. Hopefully it's edible. If not, I already have the menu for the Italian place down the road by the phone," Eddie pulled Steve's chair out for him and then sat down next to him.

They talked through dinner, mostly about Steve's day, and then about Eddie's. He brought up the interview and Steve beamed like the sun.

"That sounds perfect for you, Eds."

"I know. I think it'll be great."

The bottle of wine went down easy. Maybe a little too easy.

By the time they realized it was gone, they were giggling and leaning on each other, cheeks red and eyes glazed over with a buzz that was more than just the high alcohol content.

Steve leaned in to kiss him.

Eddie leaned in to kiss him back.

And for the first time in a long time, they stayed up all night, talking, kissing, touching in ways they'd nearly forgotten how to do.

When Eddie got the job, he sent Robin flowers. Nothing fancy, the pay wasn't that good. But he had to thank her for getting his head out of his ass and his ass in shape.

Steve didn't ask when he saw the bill for it, just smiled and kissed the top of Eddie's head while he got ready for his first day of work.

"I love you. Good luck today," Steve said as he fixed his glasses before grabbing his keys to head to his job at the youth center downtown.

"Love you too. Pizza tonight?"

"Sounds good, love. Wine?"

Eddie nodded towards the bottle of $3 wine from the liquor store.

Steve laughed. "I'll grab some Tylenol on my way home."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiesongfics #angst with a happy ending #established relationship

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pshcomforts · 2 months

Text

➳ falling in love | psh. & pjs.

collegestudent!sunghoon x fem!reader, collegestudent!jay x fem!reader (feat. wonyoung from ive)

“i feel falling in love with all my heart”

synopsis: you and sunghoon have become distant ever since he started going out with wonyoung, allowing you to be closer with jay.

warning/content: written in third pov. angst. fluff. slight angst ending(?) not proofread. cursing. hoon’s not really in here a lot (sorry). jay ending <3 (this one kinda hurt)

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: part one — ‘let you break my heart again’. fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend). the long awaited part two!!

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: falling in love by cigarettes after sex

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:11 ───────|──────────── -2:53

months had passed since sunghoon and wonyoung were officially dating.

and from then on, him and y/n haven’t been the same. she’s kept a clear distance in everything, ensuring that girl code was still relevant for his girlfriend.

wonyoung was thankful for it. she didn’t need to worry about the usual girl friend waiting for the perfect moment to seize the guy.

in fact, y/n steered clear of the couple so much that sunghoon and her didn’t even talk on the daily basis anymore.

no more constant texts. no more late night calls. no more stupid inside jokes.

they’d all now been reserved for wonyoung..

and jay.

ever since the girl accidentally bursted into tears in front of him, they’ve gotten slightly closer.

and being the gentleman his parents raised him to be, jay always ensured she was okay before her class started by walking her there every day — even if his classes were across campus.

he was a change from sunghoon.

usually, hoon would tease and make fun of y/n, but with jay, he was sweet and gentle — careful, almost, with how he treated her.

it was definitely something she’d have to adjust to but she didn’t mind. the 5’11 boy was comforting to her in every way.

but even then, she did kind of miss sunghoon. he just always got her, and she always got him. it seemed like he didn’t mind the change either though, as long as he was with wonyoung, he was okay.

because he wasn’t y/n’s. he was never to begin with.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“hey,” ji-woo snapped her fingers at y/n, who instantly shot her head up.

“hm?”

“girl are you okay? you keep spacing out..,”

y/n groaned out a sigh before planting her head on min-su’s shoulder. “i’m fine.., i’m just really tired from the last minute study session i had with jay yesterday.”

“you guys studied again?” she heard min-su muffle on the side.

“yeah, he asked so i just went along with it.”

the atmosphere became quiet after her words processed to everyone. “what..?” she asked with shifting eyes.

“doesn’t jay usually hate study sessions?” dae mumbled.

“yeah but he really needed help on his assignment, and i just happened to be there.”

the boy shifted his gaze to ji-woo once more, allowing y/n to catch on and glance at min-su with a — ‘the hell are they doing?’ — kind of look, just for her friend to snort out a laugh.

“don’t look at me, i’ve been with hee since last night.” min-su defended.

y/n nodded before looking at the other two. “why do you guys keep looking at each other like that?”

“um well.., don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that jay wanted to do a study session when he hates them?” ji-woo murmured.

“no.. we’re friends with him, he’d ask any one of us for help.”

dae grumbled a sigh of slight irritation before replying, “yeah but he asked you, y/n, when it’s been almost two years since you took that class.”

“mhm.. and didn’t you say you were kind of getting over sunghoon?” jake’s girl interrogated once more.

y/n sighed, shaking her head at her friends. min-su, who quickly caught on, spoke — “alright alright that’s enough, let her get some rest before her class starts.”

the group went on to talk about something else as y/n stayed stuck on ji-woo’s words. it was true that she was getting slightly over her crush, but that was only because she basically never saw him as much as she used to.

he was still in the friend group, but he just never felt present in her eyes anymore. the only thing they’d exchange would be a soft laugh when somebody joked, but other than that, the relationship was gone.

maybe she just missed how it was, or maybe she just missed him and his homely presence.

“y/n?? did you even hear us?” dae snapped with furrowed brows.

she lost her train of thought as she looked over to jungwon’s boyfriend, who continued to wear a worried look. “sorry.. i got distracted, what?” she murmured.

“we’re gonna go out with our men this weekend, just to a farmers market and walk around. wanna come with us? we miss you..,” ji-woo chimed in with hopeful eyes.

“i’m right here…,” the girl attempted to joke, causing light giggles to go around in the circle.

“girl we haven’t properly seen you in weeks. you’re either studying at home or you’re with jay somewhere.” min-su added in.

y/n’s stomach randomly dropped at the statement of being with jay elsewhere. her heartbeats were getting slightly heavier and her fingers were fidgeting with each other. she knew this feeling. she knew it a little too well.

“i’m not always with jay..,” she tried to deflect.

dae giggled at her state. “i swear whenever i see you on campus, jay’s beside you.”

“he’s just a comforting friend..,”

“yeah so bring him when we go out this weekend!” jake’s girlfriend beamed with a plastered grin.

it was obvious that the group was trying to get her mind off of hoon now that he was with wonyoung, but y/n had to admit, it was strange. she used to always have her ears be filled with mumbling words from them of how her and her favorite boy would get together soon.

but it was gone. that moment was gone now, and she didn’t know whether to be glad or ashamed that she was moving on a little too quick.

so instead, the girl just whipped her head to her friend. “what, so him and i could 7th wheel you three?” she shot, head already shaking in disagreement.

“well if you bring him then it won’t be 7th wheeling!” dae attempted to reason.

“is this really your guys’ way of convincing me to go when i won’t have fun?”

“what won’t be fun?” niki’s voice suddenly boomed from min-su’s behind.

y/n groaned as she found a few members taking the empty seats around the table, jay voluntarily sitting next to her. “they’re trying to make me 7th wheel on saturday, i should say no right?”

the maknae snorted out a laugh before placing his elbow onto her shoulder. “they’re really gonna torture you like that?” he mumbled in a snicker.

“right! that’s what i’m saying!”

jay chuckled, dusting niki’s arm off of his friend’s shoulder as he uttered, “why would they do that?”

“we’re trying to make her go out more!” ji-woo panned with an eye roll, causing jake to holler out laughs as he responded, “love, is it really the best way to have her go out with couples after spending weeks to get comfortable around sunghoon and wonyoung?”

“he’s got a point, babe.” jungwon commented, looking directly in dae’s eyes with sparkles. “she’ll still have fun though!” the boy tried to defend, avoiding his favorite boy’s features.

“heeseung’s not even here to make it worst but all this couple stuff with just those two is making me sick. how will i survive it being three couples?” y/n gagged, body shaking in horror.

the handsome male beside her chuckled as he gave a soft ruffle to her hair. “good luck with that, text me if you get bored.” jay suggested.

there it was again. the nervous bubbles fuming in her stomach, the eye pupils dilating after meeting eye contact. it was happening.

“don’t be surprised if your phone gets filled with my text messages.” y/n joked back, hoping that he didn’t see through her.

the male probably would’ve if sunghoon hadn’t just entered in with wonyoung linked beside one of his arms.

“who’s getting spammed?” hoon tried to beam in while taking a seat across from his old friend.

he instantly locked eyes with her but she tore her gaze away, looking at ji-woo instead. “they’re trying to make me go somewhere with them,” y/n said, trying to ignore the obvious awkward tension.

ji-woo wore a half smile as she squeezed her boyfriend’s hands out of instinct. “she should go right?” she asked to sunghoon.

the male only nodded, and y/n wasn’t sure if anyone else caught on but she found him holding back a joke that he’d usually make if they were still close.

ouch.

her head lowered once she felt her heart grip on a little tighter in her chest, each vein tingling in despair.

“you should go, y/n, you never want to go out anywhere,” she heard him say. those words were the first thing he’s ever said to her in months. and again, it was strange.

he’d usually say something along the lines of — “don’t go out, let’s just stay at my place and we’ll study” — but he wasn’t there for her anymore.

immediately, the poor girl was then reminded of the times when it’d just be the two hanging with each other. no one else, but them.

they were introverts, but they were extroverts when they were together. when one wasn’t feeling it, the other would be there just to be a comforting presence.

tears filled her eyes as she bit her lips from holding them in. it felt stupid to tear up about something like this, but she couldn’t help it. they didn’t talk anymore, and sunghoon seemed completely fine with it.

y/n was too, but she just needed time to adjust. after all, he did nothing wrong.

as she remained quiet, she felt jay nudge her with his elbow, causing her to look at him with confused eyes.

the male shifted his attention to her and watched how her beautifully glistened eyes emphasized her thoughts. he only raised his brows though, gesturing that she should respond back.

“i don’t know yet. i’m still debating,” she tried to laugh off.

once again, she avoided eye contact with sunghoon, turning to look at dae and min-su instead.

“hoonie’s right, you should go! it’ll be fun especially after working so hard, y/n!” wonyoung chimed in with a sweet smile.

‘hoonie..,’ y/n thought. ‘his nickname..,’

she looked up to the pretty girl and grinned back. in her peripheral vision, she could see the scattered exchanges from min-su to ji-woo, and then ji-woo to dae, and then dae to jungwon, and so forth.

did it hurt that she heard somebody else call him hoonie? sure, but she wasn’t gonna rampage about it.

he wasn’t hers to be acting like that in the first place.

“you’re right, wonyoung. i should go huh??” the girl immediately beamed back, causing wonyoung to agree in a charming manner. she was so gorgeous.

as the conversation continued out and others began talking as well, y/n constantly found herself looking at how hoon stayed attentive on his girlfriend. he was still that same caring boy, just not to her anymore.

“stop staring, they might catch on.” a small whisper lingered in her ear, evidently being jay’s who only chuckled afterward.

she sent a light smack to his arm. “shut up, i’m not staring that much.”

“you’re staring enough,” he joked back, letting his fingers softly nudge her cheeks.

the girl rolled her eyes as jay continued to brightly smile alongside her. “there’s too many couples here,” she mumbled to him, letting her attention stay on each couple coiled up against each other.

“i agree, wanna get out of here?”

she whipped her head in an instant. “yes please!” she harshly whispered back, causing a satisfied grin to be worn on him. “i just have to go to the restroom first.”

jay dramatically sighed — “it’s always the restroom first.”

“shut up!” y/n yelled back, giving a ruthless hit to the arm.

she swore though, that when she got up from her seat, she saw hoon flicker his gaze to her and jay. it was most likely what she wasn’t thinking, but she still caught onto it.

“actually, we’re gonna go too, wonyoung has class soon and i wanna make sure she gets there on time.” sunghoon suddenly spurted out, allowing the two to stand up as well.

the group nodded as the couple took their departure, while niki and sunoo left to their classes, leaving y/n and her three closest friends to run off to the restroom together.

as they left, jay couldn’t help but watch her disappear in his sight. something about her just eased him.

his gaze softened and he found himself smiling without even realizing it. was it happening to him too?

his heart was beating and his breathing was getting heavy at the mere thought of his friend, y/n.

“you really like her, don’t you?” jungwon immediately chimed in with a wiggle in his brows.

jay jokingly scoffed as he laughed. “i don’t like her,” he murmured. “she’s just a friend.”

“yeah a really GOOD friend,” jake added in as well, patting his friend’s back while chuckling.

as jay was about to give another remark, heeseung intruded in — “who are we talking about?”

“y/n and jay.”

“oh that he likes her?” he teased, catching on right away.

“i don’t like her,” the boy grumbled. “we’ve just gotten closer, that’s it.”

“jay.. just admit it,” one of the boys uttered.

“she’s a friend i’ve been comforting since she’s still trying to get over sunghoon, our other friend.”

jake guffawed out a laugh as he murmured, “dude, you’re so bad at lying. she’s starting to get over him because of you anyway.”

jay’s head shot up. “really?” his heart was rapidly racing now, was he really the reason why she was beginning to move on and no longer hurt?

his lips curled into a small grin as he dumbly smiled to himself.

“you definitely like her,” the oldest of them all teased.

jay shot a glare towards him before sighing in defeat. “i don’t like her but .. she’s nice to be around.” a pink tint began to hit his cheeks as he thought about y/n again.

the three boys snickered to themselves as they patted him on the back. “congrats bro, you’re in love,” jake mumbled.

while the four continued to converse, dae and the girls came back soon afterward.

“you still wanna leave?” jay asked, eyes coming into a sparkling haze.

y/n gulped. he was so handsome, and she could just stare at him all day. “yeah,” she cleared her throat. “let’s go, i have class soon.”

as she gathered her things, she found jungwon raising his brows towards jay, only to earn a downturned smile from him.

“let’s leave these people alone,” he grumbled before pulling her away.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

as the two walked around campus, wasting time, their hands constantly bumped against each others. the lingering jay had just to tangle his fingers with hers was crowding his thoughts. he just wanted to know what it was like, to experience it with her at least once.

“i like her..,” he quietly confirmed to himself. “i do…,”

“what was that, jay?” y/n looked up at him with a half smile.

“ah.. nothing. so you’re going with them on the weekend?”

“i kind of don’t want to.., should i just stay home?” she mumbled.

jay chuckled before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “you should go, it’ll be fun!”

the change from jay and sunghoon was again, too easy to catch on, but y/n ignored it this time.

“wanna go with me??” she suddenly asked with pleading eyes.

the male’s heart stopped for a second. “you want me to go with you..?” he slowly repeated.

“mhm, go with me! so i won’t be alone.. please, jay!”

he softly chuckled as the two stopped in their tracks. “why don’t you ask niki?”

“jay.. come on, we’re closer, it’ll be more fun!”

his heart thumped, and he harshly gulped down every nerve in his body. “y/n..,”

“jay…,” she scowled back with a teasing smile. “come on!”

“you’re just gonna keep asking, aren’t you?”

“yeah so you should just say yes!”

the boy sighed to himself before finally giving in. “fine.. i’ll go.”

y/n jumped up and down in glee, hitting his arms as she yelled, “yay! i won’t be a 7th wheeler!”

jay watched her make little hops, grinning ear to ear as his pupils dilated from looking at her.

he was completely falling for her and he was okay with it. he knew she most likely still liked sunghoon though, but just for the time being, he was enjoying his personal moments with her.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the weekend came and y/n found herself dolling up for the day sooner than she thought.

“just a day with jay.. usual stuff,” she attempted to convince herself.

as she finally checked her phone, she found text notifications from the boy.

mr. jjongtsby 🐈‍⬛:

I’m almost there, y/n

Are you reading this? I know you don’t have notifications on

I’m pulling up

y/n <33:

oh shit sorry! i’m coming out now :)

the girl rushed out of the door, giving quick goodbyes to her family members before meeting with jay.

“sorry,” she huffed. “i didn’t see your notifications until now.”

he chuckled while backing the car out. “no worries. i thought you almost forgot about our day for a second there.”

her body tensed up at his words. “our day..?”

“yeah, our day with the others.” jay mumbled, hollering out a laugh to cancel out the nervous bubble in his stomach. “ready to go through couple stuff?”

butterflies erupted in her stomach this time as she tried to play it off. “yeah.. let’s go!”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

hours had passed since jay picked her up, and they had been completely surrounded by each others presence.

the couples were together of course, always walking side by side with arms linked together — leaving jay and y/n to walk along just as friends. her friends would occasionally try to add her into the conversations, but she knew she wasn’t fit for them, especially if they were couple-related things.

“oh isn’t this cute jakey??” she’d hear her friend sickly say, letting her become disgusted from behind.

“oh it is, love! you want it? i’ll get it for you,” jake would murmur back with a smiley face.

maybe she was just a hater, but she couldn’t stand it. then she’d hear her other friend, dae go — “wonie, let’s take a picture with this!”

and that’d only allow jungwon to squish his favorite boy’s cheeks while placing a soft kiss — “okay babe, get ready for the camera,” he’d cheekily respond.

and if that wasn’t enough, she’d already find min-su simply gathered in heeseung’s arms. the boy couldn’t stop clinging himself around her as he mumbled sweet nothings to her.

it was an appalling mess, and y/n was tired of it.

“you really hate seeing them be happy?” jay chimed, teeth fully on display to show his wide grin.

she softly nudged him as she shook her head. “i don’t hate it, but it’s just a little gross…,” the girl replied.

“you signed yourself up for this, you know?”

“jay..,” y/n scowled, sending him a faint glare.

he only smiled at that before backing off. “fine fine, but you know i’m right.”

she playfully rolled her eyes, pushing his shoulder back as she walked a little slower than her friends.

“alright come on grumpy pants, let’s catch up with them.” he mumbled, dragging her away with a slight grip to the wrist.

the two caught up with everyone else who stopped at a bracelet stand.

“baby, let’s get this one.” min-su uttered to her boyfriend who was already reaching for the same purple band as her. “i already knew what color,” he whispered against her, causing a flush color to form on her cheeks.

jake turned to ji-woo as well, letting his eyes sparkle to display his puppy look before mumbling, “what about this one, love? it’s our color.” his hands held a similar pattern to the other bracelet but in green, causing his girl to excitedly squeal — “it’s so us, jake!”

while the other two couples situated themselves, dae and jungwon were already exchanging each others similarly colored bracelets — which were navy blue of course.

“wonie, this color matches us right? i wanted purple but min-su and hee already got it..,” he softly pouted.

won only grinned, making dents in his cheeks for his dimples as he replied, “of course babe. anything matches you because you’re perfect.”

y/n heard her friend giggle like crazy, and all she could do was send a stank eye that wasn’t caught on by anyone else but jay, earning a quiet chuckle from him.

perhaps if the girl was in a relationship like her friends, she’d get it, but she wasn’t. she was the last single friend left.

so as she watched her friends create core memories with their partners from behind, she scanned through each colored bracelet as well — eyes searching for a color she may find fond.

however, the only color that she could see herself wearing was the black one. it was simple, but it had its unique features sticking out to her in the best way possible.

y/n picked it up, contemplating whether or not she should get it. “no one to match with.. but it’s pretty, so i guess.” she reasoned, going to the owner to pay afterward.

it was set in her mind that no one could possibly care to match with her, but jay was willing to. the girl didn’t catch onto the fact that he was secretly observing her.

he was just being discreet, watching to see which colored bracelet she’d choose so he didn’t get the wrong one.

as soon as she picked up the black one, his hands snatched the other free bracelet, causing him to catch a glimpse of the other owner who only beamed a confused look in why he had to seize it like that.

he apologetically smiled before approaching where his new found crush was at.

“cash or card?” the owner asked.

as y/n was about to speak, jay quickly intruded in. “card, i’ll pay.” he beamed with a dazzling smile towards her.

“what?? you’re gonna pay? you don’t have to-“

“too late, it’s yours now, wear it.” jay assured back, flashing another grin before handing her the bracelet.

y/n’s heart fluttered at his kind gesture. he was just being a friend but even then, it was still doing something to her.

“thanks jay.. that was really sweet.”

the male chuckled as he wrapped his own bracelet around his wrist. “don’t mention it, you deserve to be treated this way,” he mumbled with a nervous laugh.

“i do..,” she said under her breath.

it was changing, everything was changing. the clear picture was starting to change from sunghoon and she wasn’t hating it.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about an hour had passed and the night was soon ending for the group.

“do we have to go already?” ji-woo pouted.

“yes, love, we’re exhuasted.” jake replied, chuckling as he wrapped his arms behind her.

dae sighed on the side. “well we can always stay out just for a little longer..,”

“you know you’re tired, baby, let’s get some rest hm?” won squeezed his boyfriend’s hands, resting on his shoulder as his eyes were glued shut.

heeseung and min-su didn’t bother to chime in. the two were simply already shutting down from all the walking and constant stops.

“i’m tired too!” y/n added on. “what about you jay?”

“i’m pretty beat, but i should take you home soon.”

“now?”

“mhm, let’s go.” jay quickly confirmed, quietly acknowledging her social battery running out.

the two left with little waves of goodbyes to their friends before they reached his car.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the car ride was quiet through it all. normally, jay loved to go through a highlighted series of what happened best today, but y/n was quiet — indicating that she’d honestly rather stay silent for the time being.

the girl was an introvert, and he was understanding of that, so he only let slow music softly boom in the car as he drove.

it was a change from his old relationships but he didn’t mind it. he knew she was the kind of girl who just wanted peace and quiet at times, and this was it.

when they finally arrived to her place, jay lowered the music and was about to turn to y/n, only to find her plopping her head against his shoulder.

“y/n..?” he tried to call in a low voice. “are you asleep?”

the male waited for a response but got none back whatsoever, allowing him to conclude that she, indeed, was knocked out.

quiet snores left her mouth as she muzzled her head further onto his shoulder. she was comfortably situated, and he loved that she could always just confide into him for that kind of thing.

“cute,” he murmured to himself, beaming a soft grin that displayed his thumping heart for her.

jay parked the car, allowing her to sleep for a few minutes before she woke up out of fear and confusion.

“we’re already here?” y/n grumbled, eyes peeking around the windshield with a groggy expression.

she heard him give a quiet laugh that immediately erupted a mount of butterflies in her stomah as he replied, “yeah but i wanted you to sleep a little, you were really tired.”

“thanks,” she sighed. “today was really fun with you.”

“back at you, get home safe okay?”

“you too,” the girl bunked her wrist against his, causing her to look down at the jingle her bracelet made with his accessory.

then she found it. the matching black bracelet he bought. her heart dropped to her stomach but in a good way.

she had basically confirmed that he was thinking of her in the way she was second guessing.

“your bracelet..?” she uttered out of instinct.

jay tensed up. the instant thought of how awkward it’d be if she didn’t feel the same quickly stole his attention. he was scared and lost, which only caused him to harshly pull his wrist away from her electrifying touch.

“yeah, i like the color,” he bluntly replied with a clear throat.

she smiled, blood rushing to her cheeks as she said, “hey it’s just like-“

“don’t you have to go home?” he harshly cut her off. regret immediately took form on his face once he realized how rude he sounded.

he hated that he was sounding like this because it wasn’t him. he was gentle and reassuring, not cold hearted.

y/n didn’t know how to react though. one minute he’s sweet, and the next he’s cruelly blunt. ‘but maybe it was just from exhaustion,’ she thought to herself before nodding, trying to seem unfazed as she only reached out for the door.

jay wanted to stop and apologize, but he also felt like a creep with getting a matching bracelet without her consent. it wasn’t creepy-like but he was just overthinking it.

as the girl waved goodbye with an attempted smile to ensure everything was okay, jay only pressed his lips into a firm line out of humiliation. he’d like to leave the scene and get rid of the embarrassing moment, but he had to make sure she got in safely.

so when she did, he instantly drove away with a head shake.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few weeks were now hitting the mark of when they’d gone out with the couples, and y/n wasn’t sure if it was just her, but she felt a wavering distance between her and jay.

it was panicking her. she already lost sunghoon and she now might be losing jay.

to be quite honest though, her mind was already off of hoon. she didn’t notice him as much anymore, and it was clear that her mind was beginning to render him out.

it was jay that kept her up at night now, from the late night ‘what if’s’ to the stupid sleeping scenarios. it was him, and no longer sunghoon.

it was him who was always there for her, and she realized it once he kept a distance.

she hated it. normally, she’d be the one who’d avoid but she missed talking to him. she missed how he’d light up her day just by simply being near her. she missed him.

whenever the group would sit at a table, jay never chose to sit next to her anymore. he’d either force himself next to niki or he’d just sit next to one of the couples.

‘did i do something wrong?’ she’d constantly think.

but it wasn’t her fault, not at all. jay was just too embarrassed to face her after the bracelet incident. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but he hated how he acted. so until he could normally talk to her again, he was avoiding every interaction possible.

“hey,” dae called to y/n. “are you leaving to class soon?”

“yeah, i have a few minutes left. why? you want me gone?” she joked back with a brow raise.

the boy rolled his eyes as little giggles left the others mouths. “well no, i was just asking!”

y/n laughed as well before checking her phone. “yeah just like two more minutes and then i’ll start walking.”

“you’re done at 3, right?” sunoo asked.

“yep, i’ll walk back to you guys around that time.” she checked her phone again and grumbled out a sigh. “i guess it’s time to go..,”

the girl stood up from the table and sadly waved her goodbyes.

“go with her dude,” heeseung mumbled to jay.

the younger shot his head up. “what??”

“you always walk her, why aren’t you walking her?” jake chimed in with a harsh whisper.

“it’s just a little awkward after.. you know..,”

“that doesn’t give you a reason to not make sure she’s safe though. you know you’ll still walk her,” sunoo scowled.

the boy defeatedly sighed, knowing that his friend was right before tossing his bag over his shoulder and catching up to y/n.

as she walked, she felt her bag be taken off of her shoulders, causing her to look up at the person.

“oh you’re walking me again?”

“mhm,” he only responded.

y/n pressed her lips into a thin line that highlighted the awkward tension. she didn’t know what to say since he was unresponsive, but she couldn’t have it this way.

“jay?”

“hm?”

the girl softly gripped his wrist to stop him from walking, pulling him to the side where no other students could see them.

“why can’t you look me in the eyes?” her brows were slightly furrowed now and she crossed her arms.

“what? what are you talking about?” jay attempted to deny. “i can look you in the eyes.”

what a liar.

a puff of air left her mouth as she slightly ridiculed him. he was saying that, but he wasn’t even meeting her gaze.

y/n rolled her eyes before closing the gap between them. her hands firmly held his jaw, squishing his cheeks and forcing him to lock eyes. her head tilted as she tried to figure him out. she normally wasn’t this confident in getting a man to look at her, but for jay, she had to know.

on the other hand, the male was flustered. he felt his heart doing somersaults with how abrupt she suddenly was in doing something like this. he knew she wasn’t the ‘go for it’ type of girl, so for her to have confidence like this was melting him on the spot.

“look me in the eyes, jongseong.” she murmured, causing a light laugh to burst out of him.

y/n reflected the smile back before huffing out a sigh again. “i’m serious, look me in the eyes. are you okay? what’s wrong? are you feeling sick or something?” her hands that held his cheeks immediately started feeling his forehead for a possible heat temperature.

it wasn’t doing well for jay though that his favorite girl was putting her hands around his face. his breathing was getting heavier and his sight was blurring with her soft touches.

he closed his eyes, calming himself down before holding her wrist to stop at his cheeks.

the girl cocked her head to the side again, hearing him softly sigh as he murmured, “just keep it there, it’s making me feel better” — leaving a subtle kiss at the palm of her hands.

this time, it was her heart beating like crazy now. her hands were slightly shaking, but his hold was reassuring in every way.

“so you are sick..?” she uttered, causing a gentle laugh to leave his throat.

“something like that..,”

“jay-“

“i’m sorry for avoiding you. i’m sorry, it wasn’t right of me but i was just feeling embarrassed.” he quickly communicated.

y/n’s eyes softened at his apology. “what are you sorry for? you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“it was just embarrassing that i got a matching bracelet with you without even asking,” he clarified, scratching his head with an awkward laugh.

her heart melted at his sweet manner. even when he was trying to avoid her, he couldn’t.

“you know you could’ve just asked, jongseong,” she teased. “i would’ve said yes to matching with you.”

jay beamed an apologetic smile before turning his gaze down to their feet. “i thought you wouldn’t have wanted to.. especially since…,”

“since?”

“since you still like sunghoon..,” his heart blew out a sigh at the possibility of her still liking their friend.

his attention continued to stay lowered at their feet, and y/n only watched him try to hide his soft pout away, fluttering her stomach with butterflies once more.

“jongseong..,” she called, knees bending down so she could find his gaze from below.

the male chuckled at her act before replying, “stop using my government name.”

“why not.. jongseong?” she teased back.

“what were you gonna say?” jay murmured, ignoring her teasings but secretly liking it.

y/n giggled, clearing her throat as she responded, “do you think i still like sunghoon?”

his heart dropped to his stomach again. he hated this queasy feeling but he couldn’t stop her if it was how she felt. “don’t you..?” he murmured back to her.

the girl saw how he subtly pushed himself away from her, causing her to sigh and hold his cheeks.

“i like you, jay.”

“w..what? you what?” he flustered.

y/n grinned ear to ear. “i said i like you.. jongseong.”

she felt his cheeks heat up with a tint of red, allowing him to cheekily smile in embarrassment.

“one more time,” he murmured.

she exasperated a sigh before pulling his face towards her. immediately, a soft kiss was planted onto each others lips. it was only a peck though, the girl wasn’t confident enough yet.

jay’s lips coiled into a smile as she said, “does that show it better?”

“i think we gotta try again.”

the boy crashed his lips against hers, holding her gently with one hand at the jaw and the other at the waist. his heart was melting with every second he stayed glued to her.

y/n found her hands to be in his hair, dangling itself into his silk strands that caused soft shivers down his spine.

jay smiled into the kiss, lips curling from the sweet sensations he was receiving from his girl, allowing her to smile into it as well.

once she felt out of breath, she pulled away, only to be littered with soft pecks on her lips.

“you’re gonna be late for class, you know?” he murmured against her skin.

the girl giggled before sweetly nudging his head away. “that’s okay, we can ditch again.” she uttered in reminisce.

“are we gonna do something better than study?”

“yeah, like a date?” she impulsively spoke.

jay’s ears perked up with a hue of red colored at the tips. “you’re confident right now.. i like this side of you.”

“you make me confident,” y/n replied, blood rushing to her cheeks even more.

and it was then that it hit her. she always knew why sunghoon matched wonyoung — she brought the best out of him, and now the girl had found that. she had found her match with jay.

“will you still be confident during the date?” he challenged with his infamous smirk.

“guess you’ll just have to take me out and we’ll see.”

“let’s go then.. darling.”

oh?

her heart instantly fluttered at the new name call. “darling?” she whispered, breaths getting heavy.

“cat got your tongue now?” jay murmured as he kissed her cheeks.

“shut up.. let’s go, jongseong.” she rolled her eyes, causing a deep chuckle to be heard from him.

usually, she’d call her crush ‘loser’ and even though she wasn’t in love with sunghoon anymore, it still felt unusual for her to call jay something that’d been reserved for him.

but it didn’t matter anymore. hoon was no longer on her mind.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about a month or two had gone by and ever since then, jay and y/n were going strong together.

he still walked her to class and ensured her safety came first like he usually did, but this time, he voluntarily left to the car first so he could minimize her walking.

y/n was left alone, sitting on the cemented seat as she texted her friends.

“this seat taken?” a husk and familiar voice asked from behind.

almost instantly, her heart softly sank. it was sunghoon.

she hadn’t talked to him in months, better yet, seen him in some months. ever since she got with jay, he was just never around anymore.

“hoon?” she murmured. that nickname made both of their hearts thump.

it wasn’t in a way of loving each other, but more so of missing each other. they used to be close friends after all.

sunghoon softly grinned as she shook her head ‘no’ to his question, allowing him to sit beside her.

it was awkward. they used to be friends and now, they can’t even talk to each other.

the two were introverts, but they couldn’t find it in themselves to be extroverts with each other again.

“so you and jay?” hoon suddenly uttered.

“yeah.. we just got close after you and wonyoung started dating.”

“yeah i noticed..,”

his mumble was almost incoherent to her, but she still turned to look at him. “what?”

“nothing..,” he awkwardly chuckled. “i’m happy for you though y/n. he’s a great guy.”

“yeah he is.. but thanks —” she paused for a second, “— loser.”

sunghoon softly laughed at the familiar name call. he hadn’t heard that from her in months and it was comforting in some kind of way.

“i’m happy for you too, sunghoon. let’s try and make our relationships last,” y/n joked, causing the two to cackle out quiet laughs.

as he was about to say more, jay suddenly pulled up to the curb, hinting that it was time for her to go.

she waved hoon goodbye as she got into the car and drove off.

the male kept his gaze down once they were out of his sight. that was the most they’ve talked in months, and it’d honestly probably be the last.

he sighed as he wore a small smile. she left too soon for him to even mention how much he missed her, how much he missed everything — their jokes, their talks, their teasings.

they used to always talk about everything and be each others comfort but things were different now.

he was happy in his relationship with wonyoung, but he just missed y/n as a friend.

sunghoon let out another soft sigh while thinking back to the heartwarming memories. “miss you.. loser.” he mumbled to himself, giving a faint grin at his thoughts.

the male stayed stuck on how they used to be until a notification shifted his attention. it was a text from wonyoung, telling where she’d be and how they should meet for another study date.

he smiled before immediately texting back and leaving the scene.

and there it was.

sunghoon and y/n went their separate ways, falling in love with someone else who wasn’t their mirrored self, someone who brought the best in them.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

taglist: @firstclassjaylee @dimplewonie @baevsxii <3

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wongyuuu · 3 months

Text

midnight rain | lsm

pairing: seokmin x f!reader genre: angst, smut, a little bit of fluff word count: 17k summary: after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, oral, swearing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested the dearest @ressonancee. but also, it's part of svt ans songs from midnights. i just wrote two in one and something that was supposed to be short became this monster. i hope i wrote seokmin in a way you'll like it. prompt: “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do." Seokmin ➝ Midnight Rain He was sunshine, I was midnight rain ↳ it was the oldest story in the world, the bright boy fell for the grumpy girl.

Letter #1

Seokmin,

You know, I've always been very proud of not being a very attached person. I've always been proud that I can put myself first and second, because I know I need to do it, because I know that no one else will do it for me. So, when I came here and dropped everything I had, I thought it would be a lot easier than it actually is.

When I turn around in bed at night, after days of trying to get used to the time zone and weeks to the weather and the people here — which are both bad and for completely different reasons, nothing is like in the movies — I always hope to find you there by my side and being able to snuggle up to you like I always did. I wake up in the morning and make enough coffee for two people and take two mugs out of the cupboard, and only then do I realize I'm alone here. I don't need two mugs and I made too much coffee. Sometimes, in the middle of the day, I find myself typing your number, which I have memorized despite the fact that no one remembers phone numbers, because phones exist for a reason.

You have no idea how much I miss you and what I would do to be able to hear your voice again. I would do anything, I swear I could. But I know I no longer have that right. I know that what I did is unforgivable and although I want your forgiveness, I hope you never forget what I did to you.

You were still good to me on the last day. You took me to the airport, you said goodbye to me, you hugged me tight like you know I like it and you did your best not to shed a tear in front of me.

Every now and then I catch myself thinking that I messed up. I could have done my master's where we graduated, I didn't need to move to the other side of the world and leave the life I knew behind. But at the same time, I accept it. Coming here was my dream, it was always what I dreamed of even when you were by my side as well. And maybe that's why I never told you about the application, about being approved. Maybe I waited until the end, until the very last second to tell you because I knew you were the only one capable of changing my mind.

When I was by your side, I started to dream of a different life, a life that had you at all times and in all aspects. But, as you may have already noticed, I chose my first dream.

I know I won't regret it. I can't afford to regret it. You’ll become who you always wanted to be and I’ll be there to give you a standing ovation. Not there, next to you, but from afar.

“That was Sunday Morning, by Hong Joshua. Ah, whenever I hear this song I remember my college days. I've said this here a few times, and I think I sound like a broken record by this point, but Joshua and I went to the same college and he was always singing this song in the hallways. Any small gathering between friends he would pull out the guitar and sing. So I'm sorry, but you're going to have to listen to this song at least once a week for the next year. Or until he releases the next one.”

Seokmin looked at the monitor to his right as a pre-recorded commercial for the next show started. The comments were going up too quickly, which made reading them an almost impossible mission.

On the other side of the glass, Chan made a sign indicating that the commercial was over. Seokmin looked at his friend as he lowered one finger after another and finally pointed at him. Chan placed a sheet of paper, which was always used, against the glass, which said “last, chat”. Indicating that he still had one more question to answer.

“We have time for one more question” Seokmin said, opening the internal chat he used with the other radio employees and read the question that Chan had sent “I ended a relationship of almost four years a few months ago, but I still can't understand what happened. I haven't even returned his things yet. How do I get in touch saying I want to return it?”

Seokmin swallowed. He knew that Chan hadn't done it on purpose, that he had no way of knowing everything that had happened between him and you, but he hated how much the question resonated in his head. It was a feeling he shared and for him it had been a little worse because you lived together during your last year of college. So when he entered the house and saw all the furniture, the decorations, your clothes still in the closet, it was like entering a time machine. In that 30 square meter space, for a few minutes, you still hadn't left.

He took a deep breath, away from the microphone so the sound wouldn't be picked, and leaned forward.

“It's a difficult question, really. If it's been a few months and he still hasn't picked his things up, it's because he doesn't need them, so I don't think you should bother contacting him. Hmmm”

He bit his lip and rested his elbows on the table, thinking if he should continue talking or if it would be better to stop there. Seokmin always thought it was better not to let personal feelings show on the radio, but he had moments when he couldn't follow his own rules.

“I can tell you from experience that sometimes silence is better. Because if you know the truth, it could hurt you even more. When I was in a similar situation, after a while I simply discarded the person's belongings. At first, it will be difficult, because you’ll see that shirt you gave as a gift, that letter you wrote and remember what it meant, the moment you gave those things to him. But little by little you will achieve it. Don't feel obligated to just move on when you're not ready. People will always tell you that it's about time, that it's been so many weeks or months. You’re the one who knows about your feelings.”

Chan knocked on the glass again, almost desperate because Seokmin's answer had been too long. It wasn't the first time he had gotten lost in what he was saying and maybe had been talking in circles. It always happened that he remembered you when he answered a question.

And in that specific question he was being a hypocrite because he knew that if he opened his closet, deep inside it, he would find at least two boxes full of your things hidden. He rarely went near those boxes, he liked to pretend they didn't exist and most days he managed to achieve that thought. But there were other days…

“So we come to the end of another Cupid's Corner with Minnie. See you again next week. Cupid’s Corner with Minnie: Unveiling Love’s Melody, One Relationship at a Time!”

Seokmin removed his headphones, stood up, and waved at the cameras he knew were pointed at him. He grabbed his phone and the bottle of water he always carried with him. The red light above the door finally went out and Seokmin left the studio.

Immediately, Chan appeared beside him. He had just gone blond, and it strangely suited him.

He knew the youngest was desperate, not that he was doing a good job of hiding it. The disheveled hair, pointing in all directions, also helped a lot.

“You’re going to have a heart attack if you continue like this” Seokmin said laughing.

Chan was the newest employee, handpicked by Seokmin a few months before. Seokmin needed someone to help him organize the broadcasts after his previous assistant quit because she had gotten a job in the field she had studied. Seokmin even talked to her and offered a higher salary that would come out of his own pocket, but nothing seemed to help. Not that he blamed her, in her place he would have done the same thing. But in the position he was in, changes made him uncomfortable so he did what he could to make sure everything stayed the same.

Maybe it was trauma.

“It’s because they yell at me, not you.”

One of the reasons Seokmin chose Chan as his new assistant was his sincerity. In the middle of the interview he “I think there are things in your program that need to change” and started listing things that he thought were dated or ideas that had been used too much and therefore didn't have the same effect on listeners. The others had found him presumptuous as if he wanted to know more than those who worked at the radio. Seokmin disagreed and that's how Chan got the job.

“They yell at you because you’re the new guy, no one yelled at Jiah”

Chan made a sound in the back of his throat, like a scoff.

“That's because everyone was afraid of her” Seokmin rolled his eyes and reached for the folder Chan was carrying “Oh, right. Tomorrow is your lecture for the communication classes, but they said it is possible that students from other courses will also be there, because it’llll be in the auditorium”

Seokmin nodded, reading the guidelines Chan had made. He needed to admit that he was organized and had absolute control over everything he did. He was sure that if he asked about Wonwoo's program, Chan would know how to answer as if he worked directly with him.

“You know how it is, I have fans” Chan pretended to vomit “If you go tomorrow, we’ll go out to dinner later, I’ll pay”

"Deal"

Seokmin always found it strange to be called to give lectures at the college where he studied. He wasn't a teacher and he didn't think he had done enough to be someone who could give advice to someone. In fact, Seokmin was sure he hadn't done anything big. His life, to put it very simply, was flat. At least, almost all of his life.

Seokmin has always been the type of guy who makes plans and follows through on those plans. When he was sixteen he got it into his head that he wanted to work in radio. It wasn't without reasons, of course. He joined the school radio and despite doing very little, because the school director had to know everything that would be done, even the nouns he would use in the sentence, he fell in love with the idea. That's why he decided he should study journalism in college, that way even if his radio career didn't work out, he would still have a profession.

But his dream was to work on a radio, to have his own program. So that's what he did.

He entered college as planned, sunk into student debt, and graduated exactly as he had planned. In his last semester, he got an internship at the biggest radio station in the country. He was on cloud nine. It was as if he had received the green light in life and everything was on the right track.

At least that's what he thought. At least that was what he had forced himself to believe. The internship became a permanent position and one day he just happened to be in the right place at the right time. That's why he never felt prepared to give anyone advice. Despite having decided on the career he wanted to pursue, he knew that he also needed to count on a little luck and help. The only words he could offer were “you work hard, study, make contacts, and throw the rest into luck’s hands”. It wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to hear when he was a student looking forward to the future, so he certainly wouldn't say it to anyone.

However, Chan convinced him that it would be a good idea to give the talk.

“You’re going to tell me how you got here, that’s all. An unknown face who quickly went on air to cover someone for one of the most beloved radio broadcasters in the country. I'm sure if you say that shit fell on your head, they'll like it” Chan had said laughing.

Overall the lecture went very well. Better than expected. He answered the questions as honestly as possible and used his best smile to get rid of the more awkward questions.

Despite the good day, he knew he didn't want to repeat the dose anytime soon.

“They want to know if you would be willing to do one of these a semester” Chan whispered because he knew the answer Seokmin would give, so it was better for the students not to hear.

“No” was all Seokmin said “But I’ll still buy you dinner”

Chan punched the air in celebration, catching the eyes of those around him, but he seemed to care very little.

"I just…"

What Seokmin was about to say, an announcement that he needed to go to the bathroom, died in his throat as he looked straight ahead.

Letter #2

Seokmin,

I thought I would be able to adapt faster here. It was very hard in the beginning with transport, getting around in general was very difficult. So I chose a weekend and went walking around the neighborhood where I live. I don't know how long I'll stay here, but I thought I should check it out. Besides, I can wake up in the middle of the night and decide that I want to eat something that I don't have at home, so it's good to know if there are any stores or markets that open in the middle of the night (in this neighborhood there aren't any, maybe that's why I won’t stay here).

I discovered that going out there, although productive, wasn't such a good idea. Nothing wrong happened, I didn't get hit on or someone was rude to me. Quite the contrary, most people pretended they weren't even seeing me. The problem was that everything made me think about you.

I walked by the store that sold a lot of random old things and decided to go in. You know I love filling the house with trinkets. I didn't find anything there that I liked, but I saw that they were selling camera films. For a moment I forgot everything that had happened and all I could think was, I think Seokmin is running out of film, I need to buy more because he will only realize when he doesn't have any left.

I bought it and brought it to the apartment. I opened the door and called your name. It was only later, when I noticed where I was, that it wasn't our apartment, that I realized what I had done.

Even without meaning to, even when I try not to, I find myself looking for you. Everywhere. I go to a restaurant and think about what you would like to eat, I see a dog on the street and I imagine you bending down to pet it. It's not on purpose, I just can't help it. I try, but it's in vain.

I wonder if it will pass. Will this feeling that I succeeded in my career but ruined my personal life disappear or will I feel like this forever — or at least for a good few years?

yn.

It was as if all the air had been ripped from your lungs and there was no way in the world to get you to breathe.

Somehow, some way, Seokmin was standing in front of you, in the middle of the college hallway.

For a moment it was as if you had been transported back in time, to when you were still 22 years old. In another moment you would have simply run up to him and thrown yourself into his arms as if you hadn't spent the whole night clinging to him, as if you hadn't seen each other before classes, as if you hadn't shared the smallest space in the world on the subway for 20 minutes. And your body seemed to remember all of this, like some kind of muscle memory, because you felt like you were being projected forward. Towards him.

You thought Seokmin would talk to you, you were sure he would. But you saw the way his gaze changed, the way it went from complete surprise to a hard look, completely different from anything you had ever seen from him.

In your memory, Seokmin was always brilliant and was always willing to welcome everyone with open arms, even when he felt more shy. You didn’t understand, that look he gave you was completely different from what you imagined could happen.

When you made the decision to return, you knew that there was a possibility of meeting Seokmin, no matter how small it was. You didn't know if he was still friends with the same people, if he still kept in touch with them. You certainly hadn't kept in touch with anyone - except for the two times you talked to Joshua. The possibility existed, but being realistic you knew it was as big as winning the lottery.

Of all the places you thought you could find Seokmin, college was the last one and maybe that was even why you accepted the job. When you were taking the last tests, the ones that would say whether you would graduate at the end of the semester or not, Seokmin was categorical in saying that he would never set foot inside college again. So you thought it was a place he would never go, but there he was. And in your first week, when you needed everything to go well. Not to show that you were ready and that you could do the job, but to reassure yourself that you had made the right choice in accepting the job.

You didn't have time to decide whether to talk to him or not. Seokmin made the decision for both of you. He continued walking as if you weren't there, talking to the boy next to him, laughing. The only indication that he knew who you were was silent once and one that only you could distinguish.

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

Was it possible that only you had felt that way? That just your heart had decided it didn't know how to beat, as if a storm was raging inside your body?

You didn't have time to analyze what had just happened. You just forced yourself to take a deep breath and also keep walking as if those brief seconds weren't enough to make your entire world turn completely upside down.

Seokmin dragged his feet into the room, tripping over the rug at the foot of the bed. A curse came out of his mouth, followed by a burp. When he invited Chan to dinner he had no intention of ending the night drunk, being carried home like someone who had just had his first drink.

It had been years since he had gotten that bad and it was comical that the previous occasion was also connected to you.

The memory of leaving you at the airport, on a flight in the middle of the night, was still vivid in Seokmin's mind. Worse than that memory, was the one of you telling him that you had gotten a place in a master's degree on the other side of the world, 18 hours before leaving the country.

“I need to tell you something” you said as he pulled his coat over his head and patted his pockets, making sure he had grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone. He needed to leave as quickly as possible, he was already late.

Seokmin had plans to ask you to marry him. He had rented a house where you could spend the weekend, where it would be possible to see the stars. He had prepared himself, but he needed to leave right that second so he would have enough time to go to the house, get everything ready and come back to get you. The owner of the house would help him, since Seokmin decided that he wouldn't tell any of his friends because they might just ruin the surprise.

“I'm already late” he said, quickly looking at his watch. "Did something happen?"

He asked, noticing your already somewhat desperate look. He knew that whatever had happened couldn't be good.

To be honest, he had noticed that something was wrong a few weeks before, and for a while, he decided it would be better not to get into it too much. He knew you well enough to know that you would offer the information when you felt ready to do so. But thinking back on everything, he wished he had asked before, he wished he hadn't given you space, he wished he had forced you to talk to him sooner.

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

Seokmin’s first reaction was to be happy for you. He knew how much you wanted that, that it was your dream. So he did what any boyfriend would do, he hugged you and congratulated you, told you that you had tried so hard and that they would be idiots not to accept you. The feeling was true and his smile was genuine. He was happy for you.

Knowing what he knew, every now and then Seokmin wondered if he would have done anything differently if he knew what the next words would be out of your mouth. He could have made a fuss, he could have begged you to stay, he could have offered to go with you. But at the time he didn't do any of that.

“I’m leaving today, I need to be at the airport at 11 pm”

Seokmin's ears rang deafeningly. It was as if he had been punched and needed to brace himself against something. The sofa was the closest piece of furniture.

He thought he heard it wrong, he wished he was dreaming, but all he had to do was look at you. It was true. It was as if a puzzle was being completed in Seokmin's mind. The way you had suddenly become distant, how every time he entered the room you hurried to change or close whatever you were looking at on the computer. He didn't even know you signed up. He imagined that you must have done some kind of test, some interview and he didn't even know anything about it.

He had no idea.

Had he been a bad boyfriend, someone who was so focused on making the long-awaited proposal that he had ignored everything else? Or had you hidden it so well that he hadn't noticed?

"What? You’re leaving today?"

It was like the world was spinning too fast and he was trying to keep up with what was happening. It was like being on a roller coaster that kept on falling. He remembered well how the little box with the ring he had carefully chosen weighed in his pocket.

“I didn’t even know you had applied for a position” he whispered, almost just to himself “You didn’t tell me”

And it was at that exact moment, when he looked at you, that Seokmin realized that your relationship was over. You avoided looking at him, your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your coat, which was his. He saw your eyes fill with tears, you swallow hard, and remain silent.

It was unlike you, to stay quiet when you had too many things going through your head. He desperately wanted you to talk to him, to tell him what had been going through your head. He just wanted to understand. Did you believe he would somehow stop you from going? If there was one thing he knew about you, it was the fact that you always put your education first. It wasn't a secret and you didn't want it to be. He just didn't expect things to happen that way.

Seokmin sat in front of the closet, on the floor, and with difficulty opened the doors. Deep in the back, behind several shoe boxes, were two old boxes that he hadn't moved in years. Part of him wished the things inside the boxes were ruined, that they had mold and anything else that could ruin its content. But he had been careful, kept everything in order, taken all necessary precautions, and cleaned the closet periodically.

He ignored the first box and pulled the smaller one towards him, placing it on his bent legs. Seokmin wasn't one to revisit those memories, he liked to keep them as far away from him as possible, but on nights like those, it was impossible.

Seokmin knew what he would find and was sure how he would feel, but he still took the lid off the box, but he didn't dare take out any of the items inside it.

He knew he had reached his lowest point when he was holding on to memories he had of you and not focusing on what was actually happening in his life.

Letter #3

Seokmin,

I talked to Joshua today. Talk is a bit too strong of a word. We exchanged a few words on Instagram. He posted a photo and I liked it, he sent me a DM asking if I was ok and how things were going. I lied, of course. He said everything was fine and he was happy. He didn't talk about you and I didn't ask.

It was very hard to contain myself. I want to know how you are. The more selfish part of my brain wants you to be just as bad as I feel. You know that little demon that sits on our shoulder? He assures me you're even worse. And I hate to think that's the case, but at the same time, I'm sure you're not okay. I know you, we dated for four years, we lived together for almost two years

You were always the more emotional one of the two of us. You were never afraid to show your feelings, not for me or anyone else. You always loved so openly, without any fear. I admit that at first, it scared me a little.

I was an 18-year-old girl who came from a family that had no idea how to show affection, so I was always more reserved in that aspect. And there you were with your beautiful, bright smile, with open arms, affectionate with anyone who came along. I thought you were a crazy person who didn't have the slightest notion of the world. It took a while for me to realize that your world was brighter than mine in ways I couldn't understand.

You were always so untethered, free, showing yourself to anyone who had eyes. When I was closed and more reclusive, you were open and expansive. When I was very shy or reserved, you were more charming and brighter than usual. Not even my worst mood, which seemed endless at times, was a problem for you.

One day you just showed up and decided that you would stay by my side, no matter what. Believe me when I say, I tried to push you away. But with each passing day you were further under my skin.

A kiss at a random party turned into a date at every party, parties became meetings at the college library, which led to coffee dates. One day you decided at the end of each date you had to take me back to the dorms and you kissed me for a long time on the side of the building where no one could see — or at least I made myself believe no one did. Then that alone wasn't enough and you were always with your fingers intertwined with mine, or your arm around my waist. And kisses were no longer reserved for empty streets, of course not. You kissed me anywhere, anytime, no matter who was watching.

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

When I realized it, I was in love with you. Your arms were my refuge. You were my safe space. My home.

yn.

You hated that Seokmin’s reaction, or lack thereof, had gotten to you so much. It was like being punched, and then one more, soon the punch became a beating and to finish with a flourish, it was as if a truck had run over you.

You had plans to go out at the weekend, though alone. Everything was so different, the places you knew no longer existed and friends from the past no longer spoke to you. You would have to rediscover the city without anyone's help. Despite your plans, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the house.

When you decided to return, you knew there would be no way to escape Seokmin. He had become successful not only in his career as a broadcaster but also as a celebrity of sorts. You never imagined you would see his face in magazines or on billboards selling fried chicken. You didn't expect that when you turned on the TV you would see his face in different programs.

In fact, you knew all of that was happening, but somehow you managed to convince yourself that you wouldn't have to see any of it. You managed to make yourself believe that you would not be haunted by his images and voice.

When you were away, you always listened to his programs, more than once each one, but it was almost like a relationship between fan and celebrity. You could separate very well what was him and what was you. But being there, in the same country, in the same city, it was much more difficult to make that separation.

Because once you were back, Seokmin was no longer just the radio host with a show about relationships. Far from it. Seokmin was your college sweetheart, the guy whose heart you broke but who, even after seven years, was still in love with.

That was the reality. you were still in love with him. There was no relationship in the world, no man in the world, that would have made you forget about Seokmin. Sometimes it worked, sometimes you managed to forget about him for a few months and that feeling of loss, of emptiness, that had settled deep inside your heart became smaller and smaller. And then it would come back full on as if it had never left.

Maybe that was your curse, your punishment for leaving behind someone you could have spent the rest of your life with. And somehow you knew you would have been happy. Or at least a different kind of happiness.

After spending the weekend holed up inside your apartment, after convincing yourself that you needed to prepare for teaching classes and unpacking the move, she decided that on Tuesday night she would explore the city.

Exploring wasn't the right word. You had discovered that one of your favorite restaurants still existed, it had just changed location. And, despite being on the other side of the city and being completely aware that you would have to pay a fortune for a taxi or risk taking the subway alone almost at closing time, you decided to go anyway.

You needed to feel like one thing hadn't changed, or at least still be recognizable.

You heard your name being called a few minutes after sitting down. You raised your head, recognizing the voice, but couldn't tell who it belonged to. Directly in front of you was a woman, with short hair, in her fifties.

“It’s really you!”

You stood up and a second later you were being hugged. Maybe you had gone there for that reason, knowing that there would be someone there who would recognize you. Or at least you hoped there was. And when you were welcomed with open arms by her owner, Niah, you wanted to cry for the first time in a long time.

“Hi” was all you could offer, your voice weak.

You quickly turned your face away, trying to be discreet as you wiped away your tears. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of someone else. Tears were reserved for dark moments in the silence of your apartment, they weren't meant to be seen by people you didn't even know in a crowded restaurant.

“Look how beautiful you look. You haven't been around for so long. Seokmin told us that you had gone abroad to study, but I thought you would come back sooner.”

You just managed to smile, even though it was embarrassing. It was strange to hear his name coming out of someone else's mouth so easily. For years, his name was just an echo in your own mind, almost as if it were a fantasy of yours.

There were days when you managed to convince yourself of this, that Seokmin was nothing more than a dream.

“Are you just visiting or are you back to stay?”

“I'm staying” you said after a second, when you managed to find your voice again “I got a job here, I have nowhere to run”

Niah laughed and hugged you once again, tighter this time.

"Great, that makes me happy. We always miss you” Niah smiled and ran her fingers down your cheeks, brushing away some tears that were stubborn to fall “What do you want to eat? Today it's on the house. Consider it a welcome gift.”

You took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in your throat and the remaining tears.

"What do you recommend?"

The amazing thing about meeting Niah again was that she still acted exactly the same way. She didn't see you as someone who had simply packed a suitcase of clothes and left the country overnight. To Niah you were still that same person from 7 years ago who ate whatever she put in front of. You and Seokmin were always guinea pigs for all the new recipes.

The food was still wonderful, if anything it had just gotten better.

You had a fork halfway to your mouth when you heard the door open, the sound of the bell indicating the entry of a new customer. You almost instinctively turned to look. You choked on your own saliva when your eyes met Seokmin's.

It was as if you were back in the hallway that day. Your heart simply stopped, and the world fell into suspension. For a moment, it was as if you had been transported to the past. You were almost certain that if you looked at the table you would see books open next to the cutlery; you knew that if you looked at Seokmin for another second or two his face would break into the most beautiful smile, he would wave and call your name.

But your illusion shattered into small pieces as his neutral expression contorted into a frown. With the same foot he entered he turned to leave.

“Seokmin!” you called him, getting up from your chair.

Part of you thought he was going to continue out the door, but he stopped. Half of his body was outside the restaurant, the other inside.

“Hurry up and close that door!” Niah said leaving the kitchen “You’re letting out all the heat”

Even with Niah's voice calling him, Seokmin remained standing at the door. You sat back down, but without taking your eyes off him. He didn't know what he expected of him, but he felt an indescribable relief when Niah pulled him by the sleeve of his coat and forced him to sit in front of you.

“The restaurant is packed, so you will have to share a table” she said as she turned her back.

Seokmin shook his head, clearly against sitting there, staying in the restaurant, but he still took off his coat and hung it on the chair before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

It was clear he was working out, his shoulders had gotten broader and his arms bigger since you last saw each other. You almost laughed at the pose, remembering all the times you had seen him in a similar situation. But this wasn't the time to laugh when everything else was screaming that he was uncomfortable with the situation, that he didn't want to be there.

It didn't take a genius to know that Seokmin wanted nothing to do with you. His reaction to seeing you in the hallway the week before and the way he was looking at you in that moment were enough answers.

You felt like the walls were closing in around you and there wasn't enough air in the room.

What were you thinking when you called his name? What were you thinking when you silently watched Niah pull him inside? Why were you still sitting there?

A waiter who worked with Niah passed by your table and you called him discreetly, not wanting to attract the attention of the restaurant owner.

“Can you wrap everything to go, please?” you turned to Seokmin “You can have the table. I was already leaving”

It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.

Seokmin laughed lowly, scornfully, his sideways smile making the hair on your arms stand on end. In general, Seokmin has always been the type of guy who didn’t lose his cool easily, who would always rather let things go than have any kind of confrontation. But when he really got stressed out or nervous, it took a while for him to calm down again.

You had seen that storm in his eyes very few times in the years you spent together. The last one was when he went to the airport to say goodbye to you. That day the storm was just confusion and pain, you knew you had done that to him. But he sat there in the restaurant, in front of you, in silence while the people around him chatted animatedly, completely oblivious to what was happening between the two of you.

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

“Ah, nothing” he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture “It’s just like you to do that”

You narrowed your eyes at the same time you felt your cheeks get hot.

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin,

It took me almost a year to convince myself that it was okay for me to look at social media. I convinced myself that every woman does this, that every now and then we look at our ex-boyfriend's Instagram, just to find out if his new girlfriend is ugly. I've told you this several times, but every female experience is universal.

I wish you were one of those low profile people, who post a picture every 6 months and it's a cut mango on a pretty plate. I wish you hadn't posted so many pictures. But more than anything, I wish I hadn't spent hours and hours looking at the photos. I wish I hadn't been analyzing every photo of you, I wish I hadn't thought “that's a new mole” and wondered which others had appeared since the last time we saw each other.

I had memorized every mole of yours. On your face, on your arms, on your back. On the worst days, when I missed you in a way that almost made me give up everything and go home, I kept remembering each one of them. I tried to remember the sound of your laugh, your voice, how you stroked my hair until I fell asleep when it wasn't a good day.

I keep wondering if one day this feeling will just go away.

It's been a year since I left. I went out with other guys, and I almost dated one of them, but you're always there in the back of my mind, almost comically because even against my will I can't help but compare them to you. I can't help but think that only you know how I like my coffee, how only you know that if I'm in my worst mood, there's no joke in the world that can make me laugh.

I know it's not fair to them. I gave you the chance to get to know me, I allowed you to get closer. I wanted you to come closer to me. Now I wonder if you're doing this for someone other than me.

I like to imagine that you also compare other women to me, that even now that you're dating I stay there, in the back of your mind, making fun of you.

Unfortunately, she's not ugly, but your smile was brighter when I was next to you.

yn.

To say that Seokmin had spent the rest of the week in an envious mood was an understatement. He was stressed and everyone around him soon noticed the change. He really tried not to let his personal life get in the way of his work. It was something he never struggled with. Work was work, what happened when the lights went out and he left the radio should never cross paths with each other. That week, however, it was impossible.

Meeting you at the restaurant caught him off guard. That day in the college hallway had been difficult, but he managed to just keep walking as if nothing had happened. He liked to pretend like he hadn't gone out with Chan right after and drank like there was no tomorrow, like he hadn't opened the boxes he had kept for years and cried while looking at the photos of the two of you together.

He had gone to the restaurant that day because he needed some form of comfort and didn't want to call any of his friends because he knew he would end up telling them everything that happened and would receive advice and words he would rather not hear. The restaurant was the best idea he had. Or maybe the worst possible one.

Maybe he had done it consciously, because he wanted to see you one more time, and wanted to make sure he hadn't imagined you. It wouldn't have been the first time.

In the first few months after you left, Seokmin got into the habit of visiting places he went with you, or places you liked to go alone. It was probably a form of torture, but he liked to imagine it was a way to forget and overcome the breakup. On several of those days, he believed he saw you. He realistically knew it wasn't you, he clearly remembered seeing you get on the plane and waited until it took off to leave the airport.

The worst thing that could have happened to him was you calling for him. Seokmin couldn't help but wonder if he had always reacted that way to you, if your presence was always so great that before he even saw you he knew you were nearby. That day, as soon as he opened the door, before he even saw you sitting there with your eyes wide open, he knew. He knew you were there.

The last thing he expected from you was you saying his name, as if asking him to sit with you, that Niah, knowing how the relationship had ended, would have made him sit in front of you.

Seokmin noticed your discomfort, the way your spine had become a little straighter, the way your eyes were hard and cautious at the same time. Your reaction made him angry. What right did you have to behave that way, as if you were hurt when all the decisions regarding a relationship both of you were in had been made by you?

You were the one who signed up for a master's degree abroad. It was you who never told him about your decision. It was you who kept everything secret, making him believe that the two of you were on the same page and that despite your different goals, you would be able to pursue them together.

Turns out he was wrong, those dreams were just his and didn't include him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chan asked for the thousandth time.

For the first time in a long time, Seokmin was having a hard time hiding how he really felt. That polished, carefully carved mask had fallen. It was a completely atypical day and everyone was able to notice his sudden change in mood. Even Chan, who normally did a great job of ignoring all the problems around him and focusing solely on his work, seemed to be walking on eggshells around him.

“It’s really obvious, isn’t it?” Seokmin asked in a low voice and Chan just nodded "And if I pretend it's because of the new segment, will anyone believe it?"

Again, Chan nodded. Since he had started the program, 3 years before, Seokmin would receive calls and speak directly to listeners. Although there were always interactions, those were always done through live chat and email when he received questions or stories from people who were not listening to the program when it was airing.

Seokmin wasn't nervous about the idea, he was actually excited. Chan knew this and knew that whatever the problem was, it was still the same as the day of the lecture. He didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to seem invasive, but he still wanted to make sure Seokmin was okay — or at least, well enough to do the program.

“I think everyone is already thinking that” was a lie and even Seokmin knew it, but he was grateful.

“You may already know this, but today we will start a new segment. We'll call it the heart to heart helpline, at least until we find a better name at least” Seokmin's voice and laugh resonated through the taxi “We'll take your calls and some of you will be able to talk to me and ask your questions live, instead of by chat. Each person will have a maximum of 2 minutes and we will answer 6 calls today”

You had left the house completely willing to avoid anything related to Seokmin. Realistically, you knew you couldn't do anything about the billboards and his face at bus stops, but you could very well avoid his radio show. And for a few weeks you had managed to do just that.

That day at the restaurant had almost been a cathartic moment. Somehow, it was as if something had clicked and fallen into place. The Seokmin you left behind no longer existed. It had been a naive thought to think so. You didn't expect that he would still be exactly the same person, of course not. Seven years had passed and Seokmin, like you, was approaching his thirties. Obviously, many things had changed, but you still expected to see traces of that 22-year-old boy you had known and loved.

You didn't spend more than five minutes with him at that table. And it was much more than enough. He had accused you of running away, of continuing to do this for years. Of course, that could be his view on everything, but it was never your intention. The only problem was that you hadn't been able to tell him those things. You had been so lost and so completely helpless in front of him that you had forgotten that you knew how to speak and form sentences.

You had spent years of your life writing letters to him, letters that he would never read, but that was beside the point. You wrote letters as a way to appease the emptiness you felt in your heart. You never, not for a second, thought you were running away. You never wanted to run away, but Seokmin seemed to believe you did.

In a sudden burst of anger, you took your phone out of your bag and dialed the number Seokmin spoke on the radio. You didn't expect your call to go through. In fact, you didn't even know what you expected.

“Please wait a minute, we will connect your call” a non-robotic voice said as you paid for the taxi.

Seokmin was still chatting animatedly with a listener who didn't have a real question, but who “just wanted to say that I really liked your show and that I’m a fan.” It was impossible not to roll your eyes. If she, and everyone else, knew how much of a complete asshole he could be just because he had the opportunity, they would never want to see his face again.

Or maybe they would team up against you in favor of the immaculate Seokmin. God knew how easily a man could turn public opinion in his favor with a beautiful smile. And God was also a witness that Seokmin's smile was simply wonderful, one that took your breath away, one that made you smile along because it was contagious.

“Welcome to the heart to heart helpline” Seokmin’s voice sounded in your ear “What’s your question?”

You didn't really think that your call would get through to Seokmin, you didn't think the signal would be good enough inside the elevator, but none of that seemed to be a problem.

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You knew you were going really crazy, but you decided to throw caution out the window and be the crazy person everyone used to believe you were.

“Yes, I’m here” you could have sworn, that even over the phone, you felt Seokmin tense up “It’s a question about an old relationship, we broke up years ago, if that’s okay”

You struggled with your keys, trying to unlock the door as quickly as possible. You needed to get to your computer or tablet, whichever was closer. It was almost a physical necessity to see Seokmin's reaction to your voice, your question.

You always knew how to tell if he was truly calm or if he was masking what he was feeling. You wanted to know if you still had any other sort of effect on him. Whatever it was, it was better than angry disdain.

“Old relationships should stay in the past, don’t you think?” he finally said.

You nodded as you ran into your room. You knew you would find the tablet under your pillow — you were sure that if your mother saw it she would say that your brain would explode due to the radiation from the device. With a few taps, you opened the stream of Seokmin's program.

“I think so. But the problem is that we keep seeing each other. I don’t think it’s something either of us want, but it seems inevitable.”

You turned the sound off, you just wanted to focus on his reactions. Seokmin swallowed hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixed on the microphone in front of him. To anyone, it just seemed like he was concentrating on the call, on what the person on the other end of the line had to say, but you knew very well that it was to hide his reactions.

"Your question?"

“Well, he called me selfish and said I ran away when we broke up, but that's not exactly what happened. I wanted to talk to him, but I don’t think he wants to listen to me.”

Seokmin took a deep breath and seemed to think about what to say next, his eyes no longer on the microphone, but on the ceiling.

“And why does he think that about you? You probably gave him reasons, don't you think? I don’t think anyone would think that about someone without anything having happened.”

“I always dreamed of studying abroad, so when the opportunity came, I went. I…"

“Did you tell him you were going?” Seokmin clenched his fists on the desk, his fingers gripped the pen in his hand tightly until his knuckles were white. “Did you give him a chance to say something or did you just walk away?”

You were speechless, eyes focused only on Seokmin. The way his hair perfectly framed his face, his sculpted thin nose. He was still exactly like he was seven years ago, just somehow different. He was the same, but he also wasn't.

You hadn't given him the chance to say anything, you had just walked away, but because you believed it was the best thing to do. You would have stayed if he had asked, I would have aborted all of your plans for him,

“Long distance relationships don’t work” you said finally, your voice lower “especially when there’s an ocean separating people”

“I'm going to guess and say that you were together for a while because I don't think anyone would care that much about a quick relationship” his voice became more sober, completely in control of his emotions, the opposite of what you felt, like you were enclosed every second that passed “I agree with you, long-distance relationships don’t work. Different cities are already complicated, I can't imagine what it would be like to be with someone who lives in another country. You didn't give many details, but I believe he had reasons to feel that way, just as you had your reasons for leaving without warning. I think the best thing for both of you is to let it fall into oblivion. It makes no sense for either of you to dwell on these feelings. Maybe your desire to talk exists because you think you've left things open with him, but he may think that what's in the past shouldn't be remembered. Maybe you're just a bad relationship he wants to forget.”

Letter #5

Seokmin

I found out by chance that you now have your own radio show. One day it was an empty slot in the schedule and the next it was your voice. To my joy and delight, it was one of those programs that also had video streaming. I say joy and delight in a very ironic way.

But I'm not lying when I say I'm happy for you. You always said it was your dream and in a way, here we are, achieving our dreams. It would have been better if we could have lived through this together, I think. Maybe if that were the case I wouldn't have this empty feeling inside my chest.

But I discovered a long time ago that I can't keep crying over spilled milk. I left and you moved on with your life. They were conscious choices, I knew what I was doing. I knew that making this choice would have hurt both of us, but I also knew that we could overcome it. It's just taking longer than expected. I honestly thought that by this point, so many years later, we would have been able to live as if the past were just that, the past.

But it's not like that for me or for you.

I may be completely crazy, but your show is about love advice and how to deal with heartbreak. Sometimes, when I hear you talk, I'm sure you've already dealt with all your feelings, after all, you've had other girlfriends. But there are other moments, when you answer a question or when you read one of the pre-written texts when I'm sure that what you said applies directly to what we both had.

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

It's been four years since I left. I already finished my master's degree and started my PhD, exactly as planned. I have a date tonight with a guy who seems genuinely nice, but here I am, writing yet another letter that will never be sent to the guy I was in love with.

What am I still doing?

Seokmin had always believed that for a relationship to truly end there must be no trace of it anywhere. When he told his listeners that they should get rid of items, it was not a lie. He was just terrible at following his own advice. The old story of do as I say, not as I do.

Finally, he decided it was time to take his own advice. With a little pain and resentment added to the mix, of course. At this point, he wondered if he could already be considered a masochist or if he still had a few boxes to tick to get the title.

Getting your address had been easier than expected. All he had to do was ask Niah, who offered the information without any resistance.

“Being thirty didn't make either of you any smarter,” she said as she leaned across the table and wrote the address on the napkin.

“Almost thirty” he felt the need to correct her, but decided he would ignore the hidden message in her words.

Seokmin never stopped going to Niah's restaurant. It was there that he had cried his sorrows over the cheapest drinks possible, he didn't have the money to pay for the good ones, while Joshua tried to console him. He had never seen Niah so stressed and angry. She hadn't said anything, but you could clearly hear the sound of her cutting the vegetables more aggressively than necessary.

Little by little she became calmer about the situation and started talking about you with the same affection as before. Seokmin always thought she had somehow kept in touch with you, or at least found a way to get your number or a way to contact you. At first, he had been angry, but somehow he believed he didn't have that right. It was only after a year that Seokmin decided to ask and the answer he received was “if I still had contact with her, I would have already screamed at her about disappearing without telling anyone”.

Asking Niah for your address was the only option he had. He refused to go to college, where you worked. He didn't know what would happen, whether you would be friendly with each other or the conversation would end in a shouting match just because. Because after years of no contact and considering the way things ended, it was pretty obvious that resentment could resurface — at least Seokmin had resentment up to his neck and knew that not releasing them all at once required almost inhuman self-control.

He looked at the building one more time before getting out of the car. It was one of those without a doorman. Seokmin knew that if he rang and asked to be let in, the probability of being sent to hell was very high. So he pulled up his cap down and covered as much of his face as he could while he balanced the boxes on his arms.

He stood there like a madman for almost twenty minutes until someone finally left the building. Seokmin felt like he was committing a crime when he slipped through the door before it closed. Even though the feeling was strange he made himself believe it was the only option he had and he really didn't have any bad intentions. He just wanted to return your things and, hopefully, arrange that if you ever met again, you’d simply pretend you don't know each other, instead of talking nonsense to each other.

Seokmin took a deep breath once before knocking on the door. He heard footsteps and a second later the door opened.

When you imagined what your Wednesday night would be like, the only option that crossed your mind was to order a pizza and watch a movie — the random option of Netflix seemed like your best friend and the only possible option because you weren't even able to choose what to watch by yourself.

Not even in your wildest daydreams could you have imagined that Seokmin would show up at your door with two boxes in his hand.

You were partially tempted to close the door on his face, but you knew that doing so would only make the whole situation worse. If Seokmin, who clearly didn't have any good feelings about you, was standing there at your door it was because he had something to say. Or more precisely to hand it over to you, considering the boxes in his arms.

Silently you stepped aside so he had enough room to enter. You wanted to slap yourself for the complete war zone that your living room was in. You were still unpacking the moving boxes, not that you had taken much with you. It was too expensive to send things from one country to another, especially furniture. You had only focused on your clothes and books and a few things you wanted to keep, and that alone was more than you were willing to spend. In addition to the boxes, you had all the things you still had to buy, but you still didn't have the mind to do it.

You had so much going through your head that cleaning the apartment was just another task you wanted to avoid. But it was one that could be left for later. In the few minutes that Seokmin spent there, you wished you had tidied it up, that he hadn't seen how that room represented your life at that moment: a complete mess.

"What are you doing here?" you finally asked when you managed to get your vocal cords to work properly.

Seokmin didn't seem to care about the mess but paid attention to everything else around him.

He placed the boxes on the counter and took off his cap, pressing the brims with his fingertips looking for what to say next. He had rehearsed an almost poetic speech in the car, something about being adults and how your relationship had ended a long time ago, so neither of you should have any regrets left. But the moment you opened the door and looked at him it was as if all the words had simply evaporated from his mind, as if he had never learned to speak in the first place.

It had always been that way with you. Sometimes when he looked at you, even when you were still together, he got lost. He was like a man adrift who had finally found solid land. It was as if he heard a click and the world started to move once again.

One of his favorite things, when you were dating and living together, was being able to come home after an exhausting day and see you sitting on the sofa in the living room, your computer on your lap, while you studied, occasionally shouting profanities at the computer. On those days, Seokmin would simply push the computer away and lay his head on your lap.

“Just five minutes” he used to say with his eyes closed.

You’d laugh, fingers immediately running through his hair, as if it was the most natural movement in the world.

“Who do you want me to insult today? You know my vocabulary is very colorful.”

How many times had he slept in that position, without meaning to, and you had to drag him to bed because “it's comfortable for you, but my legs are numb and you have to take a shower, you won't sleep dirty next to me, sir”.

It was impossible not to wonder where it all went wrong.

“I came to return your things” he pointed at the boxes.

You suppressed the urge to bend down and rummage through the boxes. You wanted to know what he had kept, what he considered important enough to keep for so many years. You knew he no longer lived in the apartment you shared. When you were looking for apartments you saw that that one was up for rent. It was necessary to restrain yourself from choosing it. It wasn't a good apartment, at least not at the time — the photos on the website said the property had undergone renovations two years earlier and had no tenants since. It wasn't big, it barely fit one person, but it was what your extremely limited budget could afford at the time. Somehow you and Seokmin turned that small space into a home full of life. Of love.

In the places where you lived, you bought all kinds of trinkets to fill the space, furniture you didn't need and never used, hoping to imitate, for even a second, the feeling you had in that little 35 square meter apartment.

You never quite managed to do that.

“Thank you” you said sincerely “I thought all my things had gone in the trash”

You laughed and Seokmin squeezed the back of his head and pointed at the boxes.

“I sold what I could, I didn't want to put it in storage because I really thought we would never see each other again. The money is in an envelope”

“Why did you keep all this?” the words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself “You should have thrown it away or, since you sold it, you should have spent the money”

Seokmin had asked himself that question several times before, sober or not, and he never had an answer. After a while, he simply stopped questioning and accepted it as something he had to do, to have some kind of sanity. It didn’t. Knowing that those boxes were inside his wardrobe, having to go through them the two times he moved, only brought back memories that he would like to forget.

Ever since you had seen each other again for the first time, memories that Seokmin had struggled to bury came to the surface as if they had just happened. He started to dream about you, dreams that range from memories to things that never actually happened, he started to wonder if it would be okay to talk with someone. His brain always screamed NO, so he was stuck just dreaming.

“I don’t have a good enough reason. It is what it is, I guess,” he said.

The last time Seokmin felt so embarrassed around you was right when you met and even then it only lasted a few minutes. The 18 year old Seokmin was much braver than the 29 year old man in front of him.

That boy, without any guilt or remorse, would have asked every question that could cross his mind. You’d say “your mind is beautiful, it even echoes sometimes”. Seokmin wanted to still have some of that boy's strength. Maybe that was the only way to know what he wanted. He wouldn't ask and he knew you wouldn't offer the information to him without being pressured.

“I think in the end, we both got what we wanted.”

You realized you said the wrong thing when you looked at Seokmin’s hands. A second before he was clutching his cap until his knuckles turned white, the next his long fingers were still. You didn't want to see the expression on his face. You knew what you’d find. You messed up, but couldn’t take back what you said.

“You got what you wanted” Seokmin corrected you, his voice firm, his tone hard.

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

“No, I wanted you. I could adapt to everything else if it meant I would have you.”

You shook your head. You knew it wasn't true. Hell, even Seokmin knew it wasn’t true. The first time you talked, Seokmin mentioned how much he wanted to be a radio host and have his own show, of any kind. I don't have a preference, I know I can give anything my own colors. You felt envious of his certainty, of the way he knew he could do it.

“The show has always been your dream” you tried again, despite knowing it was in vain to argue with him.

“My dream was to have a life by your side. You never, not once, told me that you signed up to study abroad, you never even mentioned it. When it was time to go you just got on a plane and disappeared. You never even gave me the chance to follow you. I could have been a journalist anywhere in the world”

Seokmin hated the direction of that conversation, hated being so exposed in front of you after so many years. In the past, it wasn't a problem. Before he wanted to be exposed in front of you, he wanted to share everything he was, every aspect of himself with you. No more. The problem was that he couldn't just stop. A gate was opened and there was no way to close it.

“So, what? Would we both be living based on our dreams? Because this is a dream, and you know it very well.”

You clung to the top rail of the chair, your head lolling forward in an almost futile attempt to stop him from seeing the tears forming in your eyes. You knew you couldn't hold them.

You weren't the type of person who cried often, you did what you could to avoid it, but when the tears came it was impossible to simply stop them from falling.

“Yeah, maybe I was really dreaming, because I believed that you loved me in the same proportion, but it’s quite obvious that you didn’t”

Seven years of pent-up frustration couldn't just disappear, he should have known. He should have imagined that going there would be a problem, that being in the same space as you without any kind of interference was a mistake. But he was still there and there was no way to escape. It was better to end everything quickly than to keep those feelings for another seven years in the hopes of one day being able to say something.

Seokmin watched as you went to one of the boxes in the corner of the room and opened it forcefully, tearing the cardboard, and causing some of the contents to slide across the floor. He felt his body freeze as a roll of film stopped at his feet.

“So explain to me, why do I buy a roll of film every time I pass by a store?” you put both hands inside the box and took out several rolls of film, of different brands and models. “Explain to me, why have I followed your career all this time and never missed a damn show in the last 3 years? Why would I wake up in the middle of the night to watch the broadcast and then listen to the show again while going to work because I just wanted to hear your voice?”

You walked to another box, but you opened this one a little more carefully as if wanting to protect the contents.

“Why did I spend 7 years writing letters that would never be read to a guy I never loved?”

You threw several envelopes at Seokmin’s chest. Your face and body shook out of anger or another feeling he couldn't quite tell.

Seokmin bent down to pick up one of the envelopes from the floor. His name was written in your careful handwriting. He didn't need to look at all the other ones to know that they were also addressed to him. He didn't know how many letters were scattered on the floor, or if there were any left in the box. The only thing he was sure of was that he had no idea how to proceed.

“If that doesn’t say I loved you, if that doesn’t say I still love you, I don’t know what the fuck does.”

Seokmin saw the first tear run down your face and fell silent. He knew he should turn his back, he knew he should walk away, just like you did seven years before. Instead, he took four steps in your direction, his eyes never left your heaving chest and the tears that ran freely over your cheeks.

At that moment he knew that he only had two options: he could turn around and leave, he gave you back your things that alone made his plan a success; or he could kiss you like he had been wanting to since the moment he saw you again.

To hell with his plan.

Seokmin held your face in his hands and pulled you to him, crashing his lips on yours. It was an all too new feeling but also familiar, almost like coming to a remodeled home. It was him and it was you, if only it was just that simple.

You sighed into him, your arms wrapping around his slim waist while your hand balled a fist full of his shirt. There were so many moments where you wished you could be right in that spot, again in his arms. Dreams and daydreams, wishful thinking, whatever you could call it. Thoughts of Seokmin had always been a constant in your mind. It was impossible not to compare other people you went out with to him.

Your longest relationship had been one of almost a full year. Although the beginning had been good and easy, with you somehow managing to avoid any and all Seokmin related dreams and thoughts, it turned sour the second he crossed your mind.

“Seokmin, I…”

He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes so intense that it was difficult to keep looking at him.

“Let’s not overthink it, okay?” was all he said.

You held his face for a couple, searching for something in his features, anything at all, that could indicate that the moment wasn’t for that. But all you saw in him was the same emotions you felt, the same need and desire.

You pulled Seokmin to you again, this time hungrier, your chest pressed to his. Your mind was loud telling you all the reasons why you shouldn’t be doing that, why having him so close to you was truly the most dangerous situation you could possibly put yourself in. But all of those voices, all of those words and thoughts were silenced the moment he kissed you again.

His lips were hungry, demanding all of you. And it was so easy to just give in to him, to his hands roaming on your body, down your back until he reached your ass. He gave it a light squeeze and ran his hand back up again, this time under your shirt. You moaned softly at the contact of his skin on yours, as he kissed your neck, bitting on the exact same spot he found years before.

He smiled over your skin.

“At least this hasn’t changed”

It was all too much but not nearly enough. Just having him that close to you was dizzying enough but him touching you and enjoying the fact that you were just as weak for him at twenty nine made you never want to let go of him again.

“Where’s your room?”

You took Seokmin by the hand, guiding him through the narrow corridor.

Your room was barely a room to begin with. You had no furniture except for the mattress lying on the floor, your clothes were either on the suitcase or on the chair on the side.

“This is unlike you” Seokmin said, his chest pressed to your back while he nibbled on the skin of your neck.

“I… hm… I” you sturred a little when he bit into a particularly sensitive spot, making him chuckle “I’m waiting on delivery”

Seokmin turned you around in his arms while lightly pushing you down on the mattress. His eyes never left yours as he ran his hand under your shirt, moving the fabric up until your chest was exposed.

It had been so long since you had been with anyone, it was almost like a reflex to want to pull your shirt back down. Since him, it had been hard to just let yourself be exposed to someone like that. You had become awfully aware of your body and things you never cared for or paid attention to before suddenly became worries. You didn't like that insecure version of yourself but when Seokmin cupped your breast in his hand his touch was almost solemn.

It was probably the worst timing in the world when you felt tears burn on the back of your eyes. You pulled his face to yours again, trying to hide your tears from him once again.

Suddenly, his touch was tender when he pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers careful.

Seokmin moved down on your body. When you saw his fingers on the waistband of shorts you lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him move the fabric down quicker.

He kissed your hips and inner thigh. You moaned in anticipation, your hand taking a fist full of his soft hair. When his lips finally found your clit it was like fireworks erupted behind your closed eyelids.

Seokmin was impossibly hard in his pants, embarrassingly so like he was a teenager having his first time.

He never thought that he would have you in his arms again and yet there you were in front of him, no reservations. Just for him. And for a moment it was like his brain was in short circuit, the small electric waves running all over his body, down to his toes.

He licked a path from your cunt to your clit. He went down on you almost in desperation, his nose brushing on your clit every now and then.

"Seokmin..." his name was barely a whisper in your lips, but it was also a chant.

Your orgasm hits you quickly, leaving you short of air and with shaky legs. You were spiraling in the most enticing way possible. It didn't stop Seokmin though as he kept sucking you frantically.

You tugged on his hair, pulling him up and to you again.

I love you, the words almost fell out of your lips. It would have been so easy to just say them, to be open about your feelings just this once.

Deep down you knew that that moment would be a one time kind of thing. It was just the kind of moment people sometimes needed to just completely let go of everything. Or in this case, nothing. It was to let go of seven years of complete nothingness and silence.

You opened the button of his jeans and pushed it down, his boxers following along. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him a couple of times. Realization suddenly came over you. You never expected Seokmin to show up to your place, much less that it would lead to that moment, and there wasn't anyone else in your life, so you weren't ready for it.

"I don't have a condom" you said breathlessly.

Seokmin looked lost for a second, his brain going to his wallet, questioning whether or not he had one in him.

"I can pull out," he said "if that's okay"

All you did was nod and Seokmin aligned himself with your hole. He pushed in slowly, savoring each moment when your pussy pulled him in until there was no space between the two of you.

Seokmin kissed you again to give himself time to adjust to you squeezing him. You held his face close to yours, in your eyes a mix of emotions he didn't want to understand. Not in that moment at least.

"I don't want anyone else," you said looking into his eyes, your thumb running over his bottom lip "No one else can make me feel the way you do"

To hell with care and self-preservation. You let go of those the moment you opened the door for him, the moment you let him into your home, the moment you didn't push him away when he kissed you.

Seokmin fucks you slowly, his pace torturous as you beg and beg for more. He intertwined his fingers with yours and held one of your hands above your head while the other one held your hips in place.

"Seokmin... harder"

And it's like a switch has gone off inside his brain. His once slow pace becomes shallow. The sound of your breaths and his skin slapping against yours were the only ones heard, echoing through the empty room.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, catching you so off guard you scream because it's too much.

You pushed Seokmin away and watched in ecstasy as he wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand working fast as your name left his lips when his release fell on the sheet by your side.

Seokmin dropped his body over yours again, his forehead on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over his hair.

"I love you" you allowed yourself to say, even if it meant nothing to him.

Letter #6

Seokmin,

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm coming home. Or the closest thing I still have to a home. Needless to say, my mother is happy with the news. She's been tormenting me for years, asking me to come back, but since I set foot here I decided I wasn't going back.

I wanted to, but I wouldn't go back.

Every time I thought about going back, the first thing that came into my head was the last image I had of you. Your teary eyes wishing me a safe flight, saying I love you and hope you accomplish everything you want. I regretted it the moment I gave my things away and handed my passport into the hand of the airline girl. I should have come back, I should have given up, but I couldn't. That old story of putting myself first and second, you know how it goes. In this case, my entire top 10 was just different versions of me.

I think I actually felt scared because as time went by, little by little without me realizing it right away, you became a very big part of my life. A part that could change everything. I felt like I depended on you too much. It wasn't fair to you or me.

We were only 22, Seokmin. When we were so young, we thought that life was conquered and today I know that is not the case. Far from it. At 22 I had a degree and worked part-time at a cafe to pay the bills, just like you.

You might think I'm selfish, I'm sure you do based on the things you say on your show. I was selfish and on some level, I don't regret it. I did what I always planned to do, what I always wanted to do. And now I'm coming home.

Part of me wants to run and find you, explain why I made the decisions I did, why I never told you. But I know you won't want to listen to me. I wouldn't want to listen to me either. Why would I listen to someone who left just like that? It really wouldn't make sense.

But another part, this one a little more rational, says that I shouldn't throw salt into the wound after so many years have gone by. I have the scar here, hidden enough for no one to see, but prominent enough for me to remember what I did every single day.

I think that's what I'm going to do. I think that's what I have to do. It wouldn't be fair to just show up in front of you and say “hi, I'm back” after seven years.

You have become a big “what if” for me. What if I had stayed? Would we have stayed together or would our relationship have ended years ago? What if I had told you what I was doing while I was doing it? Would you have asked me to stay? What if I had given the possibility of a long-distance relationship? Would we have worked out or would you start to resent me for leaving and end up hurting each other anyway?

The most absurd thing is that I still like you, I'm still in love with you. I've always heard that distance makes love end or something like that. I haven't seen you in seven years, I don't know what's going on in your life — you're really good at hiding everything being a celebrity now — so it doesn't make any sense that my feelings haven't changed even after all this time. This guy I see online might not be the Seokmin I fell in love with, just like I'm not the same person you remember.

Every time I hear your voice I still feel butterflies in my stomach. I sleep and dream about you. When I wake up I think about you and I wonder if you think about me too. It is not normal. It's not healthy. Life went on and I think it is our obligation to move forward together. We are not a museum to only feed on the past.

Let's continue as we are now, what do you think? We will once again be in the same country, in the same city, but I think it's best for both of us to pretend that nothing will change. It's a huge city, what are the chances of us meeting?

Before you even opened your eyes, you already knew what you would find. Or who you wouldn't find. You knew the space next to you on the mattress would be empty. You had noticed the exact moment Seokmin had gotten up, but you forced yourself to believe that he had just gone to the bathroom. You had kept your eyes closed and had somehow gone back to sleep.

You had been naive to think that the night had changed something, that the way everything seemed like it would be fine was an indication that things had finally gotten back on track. If any, the train simply ended up derailing.

When Seokmin kissed you it was magical, no matter how cliché and teenage it may sound. It was as if the world had fallen into place again, as if you had finally returned home after being away for so long. You couldn't help but wonder if that was why you'd taken the job, in the foolish, unconscious hope that there might be a chance, however slight, of being with him again.

You forced yourself to sit up and pulled the sheet up to cover your naked body. The shirt and shorts you wore the night before were next to you on the floor, but you refused to wear those clothes, opting to rummage through the boxes in the corner of the room looking for clean ones.

You didn't want to go to the living room, didn't want to be mocked by the two boxes that Seokmin had left on the counter, but you couldn't help it. It was as if your feet had a life of their own. When you realized it, you were already sitting on the living room floor with the two boxes in front of you.

You momentarily decided to ignore the smaller black box and pulled the large one closer. The first thing you saw was the envelope Seokmin mentioned the night before. Money, especially the one in the envelope, wasn't something you were going to worry about. You didn't care about it, you didn't lie when you told him that he should have spent it. That money would remain untouched.

There were also a few books you read and made annotations on, two stuffed animals, and all the picture frames you had left behind.

One of the things you regretted the most was not taking with you when you left were photos of you and Seokmin. You had only taken one, which was folded inside your wallet. It was already so old and worn out that it had almost turned to dust, but you would never get it out. It was you and Seokmin at Niah's old restaurant, he was smiling at the camera while you looked at him. It was your favorite picture.

At the bottom of the box was the camera you had given Seokmin as a birthday present a few months before you left. You had saved whatever money you could for months to buy him the camera he wanted, one that he always talked about and whenever you passed by a store you stood outside looking at it, almost as if it would magically appear in his hands.

You understood his reasons for leaving the camera there — or, at least, the reasons you could imagine—but you wished he had kept using it. Not because it was a gift from you, but because it was something he wanted. His smile was so big when you gave it to him, the tip of his nose slightly pointed down because of it.

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

The smaller box, for some reason, was scary. It was light and black, and you could hear its contents moving as you held it in your hands. You took one last deep breath and removed the lid.

Inside were photos you had never seen before. Photos of you alone, Seokmin wasn't in any of them. In none of them were you posing or smiling directly at the camera.

Most of them had been taken from a distance, without you noticing. In some you were inside the cafe where you worked, smiling at customers and serving tables, in others you were simply walking down the street, looking through window shops and pointing at something. Seokmin had taken countless photos of you without you even realizing it.

It was strange to see yourself through his eyes, even if it was a version of you that no longer existed. A much younger and more optimistic version. Did I smile that much? you couldn't help but ask. You never saw yourself as particularly optimistic or constantly smiling. You were happy, that's undeniable, but you didn't know that's how people saw you.

There were so many photos, from completely different moments, both from the beginning of your relationship with Seokmin, and from all the phases you went through together.

Behind the pictures were the post-its that you left around the apartment, reminding Seokmin of somewhere you had together or simply saying that you loved him. So many had a simple “I love you” written on them, others said “have a good day today!”.

You had no idea he had kept them. You always thought that once read, they were discarded, but there they were, intact as if you had just written them.

The very first one you had ever written, when you had just started dating, was also there. At the time, unlike Seokmin who never had a hard time expressing how he felt, it was almost impossible for you to be openly honest. So you wrote it on a post-it and stuck it inside one of his notebooks. He had shown up at the dorm a few hours after you left the library.

“Say it again, but this time looking at me”

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

You laughed when Seokmin wrapped his arms around you, squeezing a little, trapping your arms close to your body. His face was very close to yours.

“What you wrote in the note” he said softly, his cheek pressed against yours “Say it again, please”

The truth was that you had loved Seokmin, in a way you didn't believe was possible and maybe that was why you spent the last seven years writing letters to him.

Seokmin never left your mind, not truly. There was always a desire, even if veiled, to return home, to find out how he was, to just say “I know I messed up, I’m sorry”.

It was that desire that made your entire body go cold as you took one last item out of the box. A smaller box that fit in the palm of your hand. You knew what it was before you even opened it and opening it was the worst choice at that moment. Your heart, which was already broken, somehow managed to break even more, into a billion, shiny, new pieces.

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

When the first sob echoed through the living room, you didn't try to hold it back, you just accepted the feeling of being absolutely lost and heartbroken.

The weather outside the building seemed to mimic the way you had felt in the last few weeks, torrential rain that had no end in sight. You watched the news hoping for an improvement, hoping that the rain would stop for at least a few hours, but it seemed like a distant dream.

All your students were already gone and there was nothing left for you to do. The handed in assignments were graded and the tests were ready to be applied the following week. You had never hated yourself so much for simply doing your job. You wanted to be, at least for that day, like other teachers who left corrections until the last possible second and left students desperate for their grades.

The hallway was in complete silence, a clear sign that everyone had left already. And you had already waited hours for the rain to stop, until the sky was completely dark, and if anything the rain had only gotten worse.

You sighed and picked up your bag from the chair. You wouldn't risk taking any books, papers, or documents home, the possibility of everything getting ruined was too big. Besides, you needed a rest, at that point it was well deserved.

Ever since you had opened the boxes Seokmin left behind, you had immersed yourself in work in every way possible. You had accepted all of the dean's requests and even offered to teach extra classes whenever there was a missing professor.

And even so, even though you had more work than you wanted, you still found time to look at all of his social media. You still listened to all his programs, even listened to the old ones before going to sleep.

It was almost like a form of elaborate torture done solely and exclusively with you in mind. And worst of all, it was self-inflicted. It was as if your brain liked it, begged for it.

The box with the engagement ring was next to your pseudo bed. It was the last thing you saw before going to sleep and the first thing you saw when you woke up. Instead of spending hours on your phone, you sat there, staring at the small box.

You hadn't dared to open it again. You had never felt so lost as you did that day, looking at that ring.

You wouldn't be a hypocrite to say that you had never imagined your life if you had married Seokmin, but before it was nothing more than a daydream. The ring made that dream an attainable reality. It had been in your hands and you just walked away.

A curse left your lips when you noticed that the umbrella you had used that morning was missing from the umbrella holder next to the door.

“Great, that’s exactly what I needed” you muttered, slamming the door shut behind you.

You were tired, exhausted to tell the truth. All you wanted was to get home, take a shower, and watch some relationship reality show, to escape the tragedy that was your own love life.

You closed your eyes and sighed as you reached the entrance. The next bus stop or subway station was at least a 15 minute walk away. That was a problem that existed when you went to school there, everything was far away. One would think that they would do something to improve that, but one would be wrong.

You thought about taking shelter in the nearest coffee shop, but you knew it was almost closing time. You wouldn't be the person who forces employees to stay late, not when you had worked at that exact coffee shop years ago.

Even with your heavy coat covering most of your body, the rain was cold on your back and it was hard to see anything ahead, even if it was just a few steps away. Even the sound of cars was muffled by the rain.

“yn?” a car was on your left, and it was moving at the same speed as you. The face of whoever was behind the wheel was blurred by the rain, but you would have recognized that voice anywhere in the world.

“Let me give you a ride”

You shook your head. The last thing you should do was get in the car with him. It was too dangerous, you were sure that if you looked at him for more than a second you’d start crying. Just by hearing his voice your eyes were burning and a lump was forming in your throat.

“It’s fine, the bus stop is right there”

“There was an accident back there, the bus won’t be here anytime soon”

You grumbled. Of course, there was an accident, of course, there wouldn't be a bus and with your luck, the subway would probably be closed too.

"If your car went through the accident, a taxi will too”

You quickened your pace, not because of the rain, but because you wanted to get away from him. You needed to get away from him.

“Jesus, yn, just get in the car. You’re going to get sick”

You pretended you didn't hear what he said and kept walking, face down – trying to escape both the rain and him. The first tear fell from your eyes. For the first time in days, you were grateful for the rain, because you could pretend it was just water and not a visual representation of your broken heart on your cheeks.

Seokmin stopped the car right there, in the middle of the street. He didn't care if someone was standing behind him honking like crazy — something that was bound to happen.

When he left your apartment that day he felt like he was 22 again, but this time he was the one leaving.

Hearing that you loved him was everything he had wanted, but the timing was strangely right and wrong, both at the same time.

Both of you screamed, shouted, and said what you wanted to say — or at least part of what you wanted to say. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at the same time a new one was placed on it.

After you fell asleep in his arms, the only thing Seokmin could think about were the letters scattered across the living room floor. There were so many. He couldn't believe you had spent all those years writing letters to him.

He needed to read them all. He would have done it in the living room, but he didn't know what awaited him, so he collected them all from the floor and a few more that had been left in the box and left.

He read the first one in the car, he couldn't wait until he got home.

Seokmin cried right there, the same way he cried when you left. Inconsolable. His heart broke and healed in equal measure with every word of yours he read.

Seokmin always believed that you left like that, without a single word, because you didn't like him that much, because you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Not that he thought the entire relationship had been a lie, but he thought that somehow the love had ended. It happened to everyone, the probability of it happening to him was also high.

The truth could not be different. There wasn't a letter in which you didn't say you loved him, not always in those words, but he knew you well enough to know that was what you said.

After reading all the letters, Seokmin called Joshua. He cried on the phone with his friend and then once again when he showed up at his place with bad beer and takeout food. “Since we’re going to talk about our college days, I think we should do the same thing we did back then” was all he said.

Seokmin was on his way to you when he saw you walking without an umbrella. He wanted to talk to you, to know if even after so long you still wanted to try with him one more time. It was better to try than to always wonder what could have been.

“I read your letters!” he shouted louder than the rain.

His words were enough to make you stop walking, but you still didn't turn to face him. It was too hard to breathe. Your chest rose and fell irregularly each time you tried to pull the air in.

You knew Seokmin had taken the letters. Part of you knew he would read them, but the last thing you expected was for him to want to talk about them.

“I know” you said when he approached “I saw they were gone, and you were the only person who came by”

“Do you know why I accepted to host a love advice show? Besides it being something I've always wanted, of course” he didn't give you time to answer “Because a part of me wanted you to listen, to know that I was okay, even if it was a lie. I thought that if I talked about it on a show that had used the nickname you gave me, you’d regret it. I thought that I should make you regret it because it was the only way I could still think about you without looking like a fool after so long. I thought you didn’t care, that you had left because you didn’t like me anymore, so making you regret your decision was the only option I had”

You shook your head. It wasn't true, not by a long shot.

“I'm sorry” you said softly “I should have told you what I was doing, that I had applied for the and got in. I thought it was my only option. It was so stupid. I was so stupid”

Seokmin laughed a little, fingers running under your eyes. A second later he pressed his lips over yours.

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

It's been a good few years since I wrote you a letter. After a while, I didn't think I needed it anymore because I started saying everything I wanted, everything I felt, looking at you. Of course, this new arrangement has its demerits, as the paper and pen don't look at me like a lost puppy. But paper and pen don't kiss me either, so it has its bonus.

I thought when I came home four years ago, I would never see you again. I thought you would just be the guy who has a radio show that I would listen to every now and then. I didn't expect to see you my first week back and again and, well, again.

As you probably know, I've never been a big fan of rainy days. I always preferred sunny days because those were the days I woke up ready to face the world. I felt better overall. But also because they reminded me of you. You know, when the sun appears after gray days? For me, you were always like that. Grand and brilliant.

But after that day, I started to like rainy days too because they started to be full of the two of us. Rain was no longer synonymous of an unproductive day, but rather of the memory of our fresh start.

You know this, we've talked about it a few times, but I spent a few months waiting for it to sink in. Sort of expecting that one day I would wake up and it would all be a dream. It was hard for both of us, I know. It was seven years of hurt and resentment and we had to navigate this uncertain sea without a map. Nobody teaches you how to do this, believe me, I looked. I found countless books on how to start dating, how to save a relationship, and how to get over a relationship. The problem is that none of them teach you how to rekindle a relationship after seven years apart, but during those seven years one of the parties wrote letters and the other had a program just to mourn the sorrows of the relationship.

I've read several, so you can trust what I say on this.

It really wasn't easy, but I think we came out better, stronger, in some way.

I love you and I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Our forever begins today, in a little while. So stop crying, put ice on your eyes to help the swelling go down, and go to the aisle because I miss you already.

I love you.

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mvnsvn6 · 7 months

Text

Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤

So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him.

And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school.

So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages.

A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness.

The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now."

And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot.

"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."

And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him.

"You're being serious."

Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life.

"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."

Yeah, real eloquent Edward.

Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it.

And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips.

"You just kissed me."

It comes out disbelieving.

"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."

"You're insane."

And hands weave through curls and pull.

Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his.

And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue.

Eddie has never been so in love in his life.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ficlet #stranger things fic #my writing

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sports-on-sundays · 5 months

Text

people change / CL16 / Part 1

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - You wish you could just forget about the relationship. It's hard when you had a son together.

Warnings: 'Y/s/n' means 'your son's name', you are free to imagine the son as whatever age he acts because I leave that unspecified, mention of breaking up/divorce, broken family, censored cussing, getting drunk, toxic relationship, me sucking at writing kids (how do they even act???)

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: This was heavily inspired by the song People Change by for KING & COUNTRY at the end there especially. I listened to it while writing. So you're free to look that up and have a listen. Link to part 2 / Link to part 3

"Hey, sweetie," you say as you buckle your son into the car. "How was your day at school?"

"Fun... But Mama, I didn't know what to do."

"Hm? When didn't you know what to, love?" you ask, concerned.

"Well, we did papers and pictures about our mommies and daddies and our houses and stuff and I didn't know, Mama..."

You stop after he says this, pulling your hands away as they tremble. Your heart, at those words from your son, feels like it's being wrenched out of your chest, and you cough into your arm. "O- Oh, sweetheart..." you clear your throat. "Well, why don't you first draw pictures and write about me and my house, and then you write and draw about your daddy and his house..."

Your son does a pouting face at this. "Mama..." he complains. "Why can't you and Daddy be like other kids' mommies and daddies?"

"Love, I don't think this is the time to be talking about this. Let's just get driving home now." You hate to shut him down, but he's asking too many questions that you just can't answer.

He's asking too many questions that are making you feel too confused and guilty.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you smile as you get out of the car to help your son pack his bags into the trunk, and then get in the backseat. You're doing this right outside Charles' house. You're picking him up from his weekend with his dad.

The little boy shrugs as you buckle him in. "I want my grey bag, Mama! Daddy gave me some food for the ride."

"What do you say?"

"Please!" he pouts.

You nod, and give him his bag. Charles is always sure to equip Y/s/n with a bagful of healthy snacks for the hour and forty-five minute drive back home.

The whole ride, Y/s/n is unusually quiet. Even when you try talking to him, he gives short answers and makes no effort to continue the conversation. Which is very unusual from the usually frisky and excitable little boy.

When you get home and go inside, he immediately goes to his room, still not saying anything.

You sigh, feeling worried.

Did...

Did Charles do something?

Even though the two of you separated for big reasons, you've never felt too worried about Y/s/n going to see him every other weekend, except for maybe at the beginning. Over the years, you're pretty sure that Charles has gotten more responsible than how he once was.

"Dinnertime, love!"

Silence.

"Love?"

"I'm not hungry!"

You sigh, the worry sinking deeper. "You should have saved some of your dad's snack for later, then! I made dinner for you!"

Silence. Again.

You walk down the hall and knock on his bedroom door, before gently pushing it open. The little boy is sitting on his red bed. In his hand is his Ferrari hat. He's blankly staring at it.

Oh God no. What did Charles do? What did Charles say? Doesn't he understand the unspoken boundaries about this?

"Y/s/n?" you say gently, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong, sweetie? You know you can tell me. I'm listening."

The boy looks older than he is right now. You feel a sharp pang in your chest as he murmurs, "Why do you and daddy live in different countries? How come I have two houses, two bedrooms... two everything? How come, Mama?"

It takes all you have to not tear up. You wrap your arms tightly around him at this. He leans against you, hugging you back.

"Andre and Alex have a mommy and daddy who live in the same house. How come you and Daddy don't?"

"Y/s/n, it's really complicated, love. But, can I ask... What has got you thinking of all of this, love? What has got this on your mind?" You speak in a very gentle tone, rubbing his back. Obviously, this is upsetting him. Really, though, what kid wouldn't be upset?

Your son looks at you in hesitation. "I'm not allowed to say..."

You feel another pang of worry. "Love, it's okay. You can tell your mama anything."

"But Daddy told me not to."

You swallow nervously. "You're not doing anything wrong by telling me. I'm giving you permission. I can't have you feeling this upset, love. You can tell me anything that's bothering you, even if your father told you not to." Y/s/n is too much of a good kid. You don't know where he gets it from.

You wipe your son's watering eyes, trying to reassure him. He sniffs, before saying, "You won't tell Daddy?"

"Tell Daddy what?"

"What I'm gonna tell you."

You bite your lip. "Of course not, love. I won't tell your daddy."

He nods, before saying, as he starts to really cry, "Daddy cried, Mommy... I wasn't allowed to know but I couldn't sleep because Daddy forgot to read me my story. So I was going in to tell him to snuggle me... because I couldn't sleep. But Daddy was crying..." Y/s/n sniffs, and continues blubbering, "Daddy was talking to someone on the phone and he was really sad... I don't know why Daddy was crying, Mama. He said he was sad because he missed you and me to the person on the phone. Daddy was so sad so I don't know why we don't make Daddy happy and why can't my mommy and daddy be like my friends' mommies and daddies?" He lets out a sob, snuggling into you. You're speechless as your son continues, "I went and gave Daddy a hug because he was sad. He said he missed you. He asked me why I was up and said I was in trouble and said I wasn't allowed to tell you he was sad and crying. He said even daddies cry sometimes," he sniffs and lets out another sob. You hold him tight, eyes wide. "I asked him how come he was sad and he said he didn't know and he loved me and then we went to bed. I don't get it, Mama."

You try not to tremble.

Fighting off tears, because the last thing Y/s/n needs is to see his mom cry on top of it all. Not sad tears, though. Angry tears.

Why can't Charles just let go? He's so possessive and obsessive. F*ck him and his Monaco flat and his boat and his Ferrari and everything f*cking else. Why would he let his son see him so vulnerable. Doesn't he care? F*ck him.

Why can't he just let go?

You walk down the hall of the mall, your son's little hand in yours, heading to the food court because eventually, Y/s/n's complaining about how 'I'm hungryyyyy!' got too annoying, and you gave in.

Suddenly, though, his little hand slips out of yours. You look down at him in confusion, starting to say his name. He starts running away. You're about to go after him, but suddenly freeze when the little boy shouts, "Look, Mama, look! It's Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy! Hiiiii!"

And sure enough, Charles Leclerc stops as soon as he sees his son, a grin spreading across his face. He adjusted his cap to be lower on his forehead, clearly trying to go incognito here. But he bends down, and the moment little Y/s/n reaches Charles, his father scoops him up into his arms, standing up with an, "Auwgh," noise, as if it were really hard for the strong man to pick up his light son. Charles holds him tight, in an embrace, before saying, "What's up, buddy? Where's your mama?" Y/s/n points, and Charles looks up.

Your eyes meet. And everything stops. The voices, the music, the whir of the escalators, the lights, heating, and air conditioning all making their own sounds, the people walking past- everyone else living their own lives disappear.

And it's just you and Charles, eyes locked, staring at each other.

Heartbeats or seconds or minutes, you don't know. You feel a certain electricity that hurts. Shocks you. Maybe Charles likes how it feels though. Maybe he loves that, with his adrenaline seeking lifestyle. Because, after all, he doesn't look away.

But in the same way, you don't either.

Finally, it's your son that breaks the trance you seemed to go into with your ex-husband, by saying suddenly words that stress you out and tear you apart at the same time: "See, Daddy?" He pats his father's cheek, which has a little bit of facial hair. "You don't have to cry anymore... You don't..." Suddenly, he looks a little scared, realizing he wasn't supposed to say that, but finishes softly with, "You don't have to miss Mama anymore, Daddy, because she's right here..."

There's almost a pleading in your son's eyes. A longing. You feel yourself start to tear up, but you strive to hold them back. Y/s/n. He loves us. He loves his parents so much. He just wishes they would love each other.

Charles shakes his head in surprise, stroking Y/s/n's hair, "Buddy, it's okay. Don't worry. I'm okay. I don't-" he falters for just a moment before finishing quickly, glancing to you nervously, "I don't miss Mama anymore. Don't worry."

"But I miss Mama." At this, both of you look at your son in confusion.

"But Y/s/n, Mama is right here," Charles says carefully, taking more steps closer to you. "See? Do you want to go with M-"

"No!" your son suddenly snaps, and says as if it is the most obviously thing on earth, "When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama. When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. I don't wanna miss you guys!"

All the sudden, it's too much for you. All of it. Before Charles can do anything else you say quickly, your voice obviously cracking and your breath shaky, "Charles, can you take him home today? I'm sorry-"

"Of course, Y/n. I-"

You turns, jogging away. You need to get out of there.

But as you run out, you hear Charles call after you, "Y/n! Y/n, wait! Y/n, we're going to talk on the phone tonight, okay? There's things we still need to go over!"

At around 3:00 A.M., Charles calls. While you're worried to answer, you're also relieved. The fact that you're still awake at 3:00 A.M. shows how much anxiety you've been feeling about getting this call from Charles.

When you pick up, you murmur softly, "Hey, Charles."

"Sorry I'm calling at this hour. God. I just had to make sure Y/s/n was sound asleep. I'm, uhm," he pauses to clear his throat awkwardly, and continues in a softer, more delicate voice, "I'm sure Y/s/n told you about the phone call the other weekend..."

"Y- Yeah, he did. What did you do? Did you scare him into not telling me? He was crying," you say, your voice becoming harder and harder as you speak.

"What?! No! I just asked him please not to tell you. That was it. Maybe he was crying because..." Charles trails off.

"Because why?" you snap, although the sinking feeling within tells you exactly why.

"Y/n..." he sighs loudly. "Because our son loves us and doesn't get why... w- we... don't- don't, uhm.... love each other." The facts that he falters so much on that last phrase, that it's so hard for him to get out, sends a pit in your stomach. Of dread, and anger.

And without another hesitation, you just say it. "Charles... you still love me, don't you?"

There's silence over the phone. Sickly, disgusting, terrible silence. The anger rises up in you higher and higher, like a pressure, trying to push you on your tipping point. So finally you snap, probably way too loud, "Charles, what the hell! F*ck you. I hate you, you f*cking asshole. You're too much of a f*cking coward to even say it! Just like you've always been!" Your voice gets louder and louder. "Just like you've always been! Too much of a f*cking coward to admit anything! You tricked me! You had me thinking everything was peaches and cream, but it wasn't! You were being a terrible person and played innocent, and whenever I asked you anything, you did the same exact thing you still do. You just keep silent. Charles, I know you'll never grow, I hate that my son has to see your sorry ass every other weekend, and if I knew it wouldn't break his sweet little heart, I would wish your pathetic silent self would just fall off the face of the earth so I didn't have to ever have to listen to your stupid, pathetic silence ever again."

"Y/n, I-" You hang up. Charles doesn't try to call back.

Years ago.

Charles came in and stumbled into your arms, as if you were the one that needed to take care of him. You were tired, having stayed up with your fussy baby boy nearly all night, with no help, and you wanted to cry. You didn't want Charles to stumble in, drunk, right into your arms, as if he was the one who needed help. No. He was the one causing the problem. He had reeked of alcohol. He didn't get drunk this often, and you knew exactly why he was doing it now, although he'd been too scared while sober to admit it to you. It was the argument you'd had, and his way of coping was going out, getting drunk, and coming home to his wife and baby at three in the morning, wasted. Now, while drunk out of his mind, he was able to murmur, his words slurred tremendously, "Y/n... I'm sorry, love... You should've come with me tonight. I had fun... We could... make up for that argument..." He had a sickly seductive tone in his voice.

You felt rage fill up in you. Did you forget about your son? The son that you and I created together? Did you forget about that? Instead of letting any of that rage escape you, you just brought him to the bedroom and helped him into bed. You left him, walked to the living room, sat down on the couch, and held your aching, tired head, pulling at your hair, as tears escaped your closed eyelids.

Your world was spinning. Everything was wrong.

The argument. You had started it. And yelled at him. About how he was a coward and never told the truth. Even though you loved him. You thought. You must've. You... You had a son together. You yelled at him for telling you he was working when he wasn't. You yelled at him that he wasn't helping you at all and that you were going out of your mind. You said you felt like a single mom because he was never around, never helped, and never tried to. He lied and told you that an event he had mentioned that you were excited for was cancelled because he had found out more things about the event that he didn't want to deal with himself. He was becoming more and more selfish, showing who he really was more and more every single day. It just made you think- what is he doing when he gets drunk? What else is he being dishonest about?

Eventually you stopped loving him. You loved your son much more, so you broke it off. The final tipping point was when you suspected he had cheated, although nothing had ever proved that. But that was when you finally broke it off.

He was heartbroken. He held onto you. No, Y/n, please don't do this. I'll try better. I'll try better. You had told him that he had been saying he'd try better for the past year.

He had cried. Maybe even sobbed. You only saw him sob twice. Once was one time when he was drunk out of his mind, and the other one was that night when you told him you were breaking it off. I guess Y/s/n has seen him sob a third time, though.

He had said to you that he still loved you. You had said if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this. And that was the end of it.

Or so you thought.

You can't believe you're here. You can't believe he convinced you. You set up for your mother to watch Y/s/n while you drive into Monaco and.

Well, yeah. Go to Charles' God-forsaken house. To meet with him. 'Have a talk' as he put it. 'In real life.' So he can 'see your face and expressions.' And 'understand better.'

Charles opens the door. He's wearing a black t-shirt, grey jeans, and has his usual assortment of different bracelets on his wrists. And a disgustingly expensive watch. As you walk into his (beautiful) flat, you see that it hasn't changed much since you left and moved a couple hours closer to home, back in France. Just a little cleaner. But just like how it was when you lived here, there's still a stray toy on the floor here and there. As if reading your mind, he bends down, picking up a few of them, before putting them in a basket in the corner of the room. He runs his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair, looking a little awkward. "Why don't you sit down?" he asks softly, gesturing to the couch by a nod of his head. "Make yourself... comfortable... Uh... I made some cookies. Consider it a peace offering. And I... I really tried to make them good, too. I'm just going to go grab them." And before you can think or react, he's walking out of the room to grab them.

When he returns with the cookies, he sits down next to you, holding the little plate out to you. You hesitantly take one, nibbling off a little bite, nervously glancing to Charles. "It's fine..." you say. In your taste, too sweet (and slightly gooey) but besides that, alright. "But I just want to get this over with, okay? Charles can we just... have this talk? So I can go?"

Your ex husband stared down, before nodding slowly. "Yeah... Of course." He falters, before murmuring, "I love our son just as much as you do. And it hurts me to see him-"

"My God, Charles, shut up. I know what this is about. It's about you being selfish," the bitterness in your voice surprised even yourself, "You're being selfish because for some twisted reason, you still want to be with me, and you're using my son's pain as an excuse. You're just as you've always been- selfish, lying, and making excuses."

"Y/n, no it's not!" he snaps, his eyes pleading. "I- I- I want the best for our son."

"Charles, do you still love me?"

He stares at you. Hesitates. Falters. He inhales a shaky breath, before looking down at his hands in his lap. "All these years I've never dated another woman. All these years the guilt has crushed me."

"Shut up!" you spit. "It's not guilt, Charles, of hurting me your or son. It's guilt because you wouldn't wanted to be with me longer. It's selfish. You're f*cking selfish!"

He practically begs, "Please, babe, just listen-"

"What did you just call me?"

He stares in surprise at what he just said. He swallows. "I'm sorry- It- It just came out..."

You glare, and shout, "You still love me, you dick! I hate you! You- You cheated on me!"

He cuts you off by grabbing your arm suddenly. There's a desperate look in his eyes. "Y/n... No, I didn't... I swear it on my life.. On my job, on everything I love... I would..." You're shocked to watch as a singular tear gently rolls down one of his cheeks. He's holding back more. The salty, warm tear drops right onto your palm. You wipe it off. Charles eyes plead with you as he murmurs, his voice cracking, "I would never cheat on you..."

You stare, trying to form more words, not knowing what to say.

But Charles continues, "I don't know where you got the idea I cheated on you... I know it was hard and I was being..." Suddenly there is guilt and grief openly painted all across his face. "I was being a terrible person... Giving up the most lovely, sweet wife and baby I could've ever asked for... I was young and stupid, Y/n...Y/n... I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I swear I mean it...

"I would do anything for this to work."

Another tear falls.

"Y/n... just listen... I need you to hear me out..."

He sniffs. He seems so broken. Vulnerable. Honest.

"It's all my fault, Y/n. I know. I know. I'm sorry. And I get if you're afraid... I would be, too... but, Y/n... I wish you could just understand that... that...

"Y/n, people change."

Author's Note- Just wanted to say if you guys liked this and want a part two, I'm totally open to writing that! Let me know if you want a part two, and if you have any ideas, shoot! Like should I end this happy? Or not...? And in what way? If no one gives me ideas, I'll just come up with it, but you guys are extremely welcome to let me know!!! Thank you! <3

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beforeimdeceased · 5 months

Text

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT3

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: she’s the same ellie she’s always been.

a/n: am i building up tension so they can be genuine enemies to lovers? maybe…

why’d you have to make a record ‘bout me?

masterlist.

“what the actual fuck ellie?” you storm into the dressing room, startling jesse and dina, who’d been sitting on the couch. jesse jolts up to walk over to you but you jerk your body away and rush at the laughing girl. “you wrote a fucking song about me?”

“why are you so pissed?” she rolls her eyes. you take a deep breath before turning around to face jesse and dina. “can you guys tell her why i’m pissed? if i do she’ll be leaving with a disfigured face.”

“i’d love to see you try to fuck me up.” ellie chimes in. you’re about to turn and yell at her when jesse grabs your arms and leads you outside. dina shakes her head, walking towards ellie, looking displeased. the last thing you hear before jesse closes the door is ellie’s crude laughter.

“did you know she was gonna do that?” you furrow your brows. he shakes his head rapidly while pulling you in for a hug. “no, i’m so sorry. if i did i would’ve never let her onstage.”

you’re sobbing now. tears of embarrassment pooling from your eyes and onto his shirt. memories of the moment flash before your eyes. her ridiculous and crude lyricism. the smirk on her face as yours fell. her making it painfully obvious that she was singing to you. about you. and not in a good way.

jesse pats your back while shushing you, repeated apologies falling from his lips. he catches their manager walking by and calls out to him. “hold on i’ll be right back. i’m gonna talk to jace about this.”

you nod, slumping down on the floor as he walks away. it takes you several deep breaths to not burst through the door and bash her head in. then you hear her talking nonchalantly on the other side. “dina it’s not that big of a deal. seriously. she’s such a fucking crybaby.”

you’re reminded of the night you’d cried into ellie’s lap. the next day you showed up apologizing profusely with a new pair of pants for her. her telling you that it’s fine. inviting you in. offering you a snack. a bottle of water. asking if you wanted to watch videos with her about space.

how could such a sweet person be such a fucking asshole and barely show any remorse? how were you meant to just get over everything she’d done? how could you let that person kiss you? see you in your most vulnerable state? call you a crybaby?

before you know it, you’ve stormed back into the room. ignoring dina’s calm and soothing voice, to punch ellie in the face. you’re hyped on adrenaline until the pain settles in. your knuckles burning and her nose bloody. what had you done?

“i’m gonna fucking kill you. so you better choose your last words carefully.” blood was spilling into her mouth. the overflow of iron settling thick in her throat. dina steps between the two of you holding her hands up. “ellie, why do you always do this shit? your nose should be permanently broken from all the fights you get into. just let it go.”

“not too good to fight with me now, huh?” ellie talks over dina’s back. her words are muffled by her hand over her face. you hit her hard as fuck, and a secret part of you hoped it knocked some sense into her. the rest of you felt an overbearing sense of guilt. lashing out was her thing. fighting was her thing. blood was her thing. you had been trying so hard not to get caught up in all that. you even had hope that she was really changing for the better.

it seems you were wrong.

“i’m so-“

jesse bursts into the door, anger all over his face. he whispers something under his breath before looking up and taking in the scene. “fucking hell, what happened?”

you lower your face in embarrassment. “i don’t know what came over me. i’m so sorry ellie-“

jesse throws up his hands. “you know what, let’s not worry about this right now. we have to perform in five minutes.”

dina scrambles to grab her leather jacket off the couch and follows a frantic jesse out of the dressing room. you shake your head as you hear ellie burst into laughter. she’s hysterical, damn near falling out of her chair.

“jesus williams, what’s so fucking funny?”

“nothing—“ she chokes back more laughter attempting to speak. “it’s just— you know how to throw a fucking punch.”

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wishlistcharles · 3 months

Text

racing hearts → op81

oscar piastri x plus size!fem reader

genre: drivers room smut, established relationship

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), praise kink, dirty talk, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 2.7k

song: cupid's chokehold- gym class heroes

sidenote: hi everyone! finally the new fic is here and it's an oscar one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic because i don't have a plan for the next one haha. also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

♡♡♡♡

Silvertone made you nervous, don't get me wrong, all of Oscars races made you incredibly nervous but it wasn't often you were in the paddock watching in person. He was doing good, no matter how he did you were always proud of him, but it was nice to hear him over the radio sounding happy. Your nerves got the best of you, and you found yourself shaking your leg and biting your nails, before it got worse you decided a little walk around the paddock would be calming.

You and Oscar had been dating a little over two years, and those two years had been amazing. You remember his year as a reserve driver and all the hesitation that he felt. You remember when he first got word about getting a spot in f1 and the tears of joy that fell down your face when he told you. You remember every big and little moment that has impacted your relationship.

Before dating, you guys were friends, you were getting your masters degree in London and happened to be friends with one of his friends. Everything kinda felt like fate, when you first met him you had been so shy, of course you had heard about the hot shot f2 driver, and of course you had been nervous. A part of this nervousness and shyness you felt was because you were worried how he would react to you being a bigger girl.

To your surprise Oscar was amazing to you. And over the next couple of moments as he was pursuing you, he did not shy away from being affectionate.

You would like to say the rest was history but it wasn't, that your relationship had its ups and downs. Oscar wanted to go public with your relationship, it was you who had told him we should hold off. You knew how people would react and this was his first year in f1, you didn't want to add to that stress. People would bombard him on his social media posts, interviews would ask questions, you couldn't do that to him. After all he's worked for. Truth be told you would like to show your affection to Oscar in public, to be able to hold and kiss him after a good quali or a podium, but you knew how mean the internet could be and you couldn't do that to him or yourself.

The sound of the cars pull you out of your trace and you figure it was time to head back to the garage and watch. You felt a pit in your stomach, he was doing good, and only a few laps left but anything could happen. With the final lap you see he finished 4th, you were extremely happy for him. But in the back of your mind, you knew Oscar would be mad. Mad that he was so close to a podium. Despite that you couldn’t wait to hug and congratulate him.

The garage was crowded, roars and screams echoed in your ears. The team was proud of their 2nd and 4th finish. And while no one knew why you were there or your intentions, you couldn’t help but feel extremely proud of both boys.

You knew it would take Oscar a while to finish his debriefing, post race interviews, and just overall navigating the garage. You took it upon yourself to sneak into his drivers room and wait until he’s done. Walking in see a small picture of you and him nestled away near his backpack.

A sudden jolt of possessiveness, and just overall happiness rings through you. At the end of the day you couldn’t believe Oscar and you were together. He was the most amazing, caring and loving person you could’ve ever imagined to have. You knew you had to do something when he came into the room to cheer him up because, even though fourth place was an incredible finish, Oscar always thrived for more.

You make yourself comfortable, slipping off your shoes and putting your hair in a ponytail. You looked through the tiny closet that was in the drivers room, where he said he would leave a larger hoodie for you to wear after the race if it was cold. It was the little things like this that made you love him even more. While you weren’t the type of girl who could wear his hoodies or shirts because they were too small on you. He made the extra effort to give you what you wanted.

While waiting, you came up with the most amazing idea, you and Oscar had a pretty active sex life. You were both young, what could you say? it was always pretty difficult during practice days and qualities to find time alone with each other but today you decided you were going to plan something special.

You found yourself getting excited at the idea, crossing your legs you try to create some friction to hold yourself off until Oscar gets into the room, but luck was not on your side today, and it took two more hours until Oscar finally entered the room, looking exhausted, flushed and sweaty.

His hair was damp and sticking to his forehead. Just how you liked it when his hair was down. His pretty eyes sparkled at you, but through his smile, you could tell he was disappointed and sad.

“Hi baby, how was debrief?” you questioned

“Same old, same old just took longer to get out because they wanted to strategize on how we can get a one-two next race. Are you ready to go? I’m exhausted, starving and I need to shower desperately.”

Before you can nod, you remember the plan you had made a couple hours earlier. He might be too tired to do anything, but all you can do is try.

“Why don’t you sit down for a minute Osc, we can get you changed out of your fireproofs, and wait a little while traffic is still dying down. Here let me order us some food to be delivered back to the hotel for later on”

You quickly get on your phone and order his favorite post race meal, a chicken burger with sweet potato fries. You opt out and get yourself something different. After placing your order, you start to grab his change of clothes that he brought with him. When you are face to face in front of him, you see Oscar looking up at you with the most fondest eyes, and quiet smile.

Oscar wasn’t the most romantic person in the world, but just by existing he made up for it. Nonetheless he never strayed away from complimenting you.

“Have I told you, you are the best girlfriend in the world, you take such good care of me”

“You’ve said it once or twice but I wouldn’t mind hearing it more” you wink as you slowly start to take off his undershirt. You take the liberty to also take off his pants, so you kneel down in front of him and start to pull off his boots one by one. This felt extremely intimate and it left you with a flushed feeling.

You gesture him to lift his hips so you could pull off the remaining part of his fireproofs that were pooled loosely around his waist. Once he does this you shimmy them down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers.

“You did so good today baby” you said while rubbing your hands up and down the tops of his thighs.

“You raced so well. You don’t know how proud I am of you. My rookie, my baby, you are so perfect Osc, my one and only”

You see a tint of red cover his cheeks and nose. This was something you guys have been experimenting more with, you being dominant. You weren’t gonna do that today. Tonight you just wanted to let him know how good he was. You slowly see a tent pop up in his boxers

“Oh my, my, Oscar what’s this, do you like hearing how good you are? Well you are, you are so good”

Instead of replying, Oscar tries to hide his face with his forearm. That just won’t do.

“Oh no no no, don’t hide yourself from me, isn’t that what you always tell me”

He slowly removes his forearm to look down at you.

“Baby can I please suck you off, want to show you how proud I am”

He nods his head yes and lets out a tiny please.

That’s all you needed to hear before you slide his boxers off. His pretty pink cock springs free, red at the tip, angry looking and dripping. Oscar had the prettiest cock you had ever seen, to be fair you had only seen a couple in your life but his was so pretty. Average in length, maybe a bit below, but thick, pale with a pink tinge to it. Oscar left things pretty natural in the hair department but that never bothered you. Everything about him just made sense.

Your mouth instantly drools at the sight of it, laying across his tummy. You spit in your right hand and grasp it at the base, and slowly drag your hand up his shaft. You look up to see Oscar’s eyes slowly flutter close. A tiny breath leaves his mouth. You decided now was the time to praise him some more.

“You have such a pretty cock Oscar, fucks me so well, fills me up in the best way possible. No one has ever made me come the way you do, you take such good care of me, let me do the same for you”

With that you bring your head down to softly lick the head, swirling your tongue around the tip, you dip your head down and lick a long stripe from the base of his cock all the way to the tip and fully take the head into your mouth.

Oscar’s hands were gripping the couch as hard as he could, trying to keep the moans at a minimum, the driver room walls were very thin. Oscar was usually on the quieter side, but you don’t know what possessed you to say this.

“Don’t hold back, be loud love, I want everyone to know how good I’m making you feel, want everyone to know I’m in here worshiping your cock”

“Fuck y/n you have such a dirty mouth” he whined.

You giggled and brought your cheek down to nestle his cock. Grabbing it firmly you slap it against your face leaving a slight sting. You couldn’t help but look up at him as you did this, he was staring down at you, mouth agape.

“I left your cheek all red” he muttered, you could sense he felt a little bad because of it. You couldn’t have that.

“Good, want us to walk out here knowing just what we did” and even though you know when you walked out people would think you were a McLaren worker because of your outfit, you couldn’t help but feel excited walking out into the world knowing you had just done what you did with thee Oscar Piastri.

Oscar is fully back in your mouth again, hash breaths and tiny moans are coming from the man above you. Bobbing your head up and down you try your best to fully take his entire length. It was hand because he was stretching your mouth so wide with his thickness. You focus your tongue at the head, swirling and moving your tongue back and forth at the spot the connects the tip to the base. That brings out the biggest moan from him. You immediately look up to see his eyes are shut close and his lip looks like it’s about to start bleeding from how hard he’s biting it.

Continuing to focus on the head, you bring your hand down to his balls and cup them. You softly rub and massage them. You knew once you did this Oscar would finish soon.

“Want you to fuck my mouth, want to feel it for days after you leave London, want to remember how good you fuck my throat” you say to him with eyes that were begging.

“Are you sure baby? Don’t want to hurt you”

“If you hurt me I’ll slap your thigh, but trust me I want this”

He nods and grabs the back of your head to place you back on his cock. He starts slow, hand loosely grabbing the back of your head, guiding you softly. You try to relax your throat, because soon he starts to pick up his pace. Instead of the soft hold, he is harshly grabbing your hair, using it to move you up and down. You do your best to still use your tongue despite Oscar moving you at a very fast pace.

“Fuck I’m gonna come soon” he whispers

You knew he was close to the edge by the way the thick vein on the underside of his cock was throbbing. You look up at him the best as you could and nod, hoping he got the message to finish in your mouth. In all honesty, you wanted him to come all over your face but you still had to walk through the paddock to his car.

His hips start to stutter and he stops moving your head, arms fallen to his side. He lets out a loud groan and you feel the warm white liquid flood your mouth. You swallow and open your mouth to show him. He also groans at this, cupping your face he bring you up to connect you both in a kiss. It was a sweet kiss, no tongue, nothing crazy, just sweet.

You smile at him and stand up, you know you are drenched but you didnt want to do anything else in this room. Oscar may be able to be quite, but there so guarantee with you.

“Want me to eat you out” Oscar asked with his face in your neck as you sat next to him.

“No, you can fuck me later if you are up for it, but we should be going soon, the food is probably going to be delivered before we get there”

He nods “Where did you learn to talk like that” Oscar asks as he puts on his new pair of boxers.

“I don’t know what you mean, I was just speaking the truth” you wink.

He gives you a uhhuh look and continues to get dressed. You look at yourself in the mirror and you don’t completely look disheveled. The slight redness on your cheek was still there but you wanted that. You dug in Oscar’s bag for a piece of gum and popped it in your mouth. You both get ready in silence. As you are about to leave you stop him.

“You do know I am genuinely proud of you, and I can’t wait to see how much you grow and succeed, I love you.” You say and kiss his cheek.

“I love you too, you are the most amazing and beautiful girlfriend ever, I can’t wait for people know you are mine”

Something overcame you. You grab his hand and nod, if someone finds out and spreads it, you could care less. You were tired of hiding this. You see the smile and lead the way out of the drivers room.

Hand in hand you both walked down the paddock, you were proud of your boyfriend. No more being scared. He deserves this and more. His hand was warm and you knew everything was right. You had no doubt in your mind that next season you would both be back here but celebrating a podium instead.

♡♡♡♡

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 months

Text

Broken Faith - LN

Summary: Y/n loses confidence in her and Lando getting past a rough patch but Lando can't lose her.

I've been listening to sad songs. Time to write about an imperfect relationship.

Themes: Break up (briefly tbh bc our man is a fighter)

No part 2 requests please

Y/n stares at herself in the bathroom mirror, tears having already spilled over her cheeks making her wipe aggressively at it. She doesn't want to hurt him. But everything feels so fractured.

"Get it together. This is the right thing." Y/n grunts staring at herself angrily.

Lando is out in the living room, home for once and she had arrived, tried to address everything but wussed out and excused herself to the bathroom.

Again she rubs her face grateful she didn't bother with make up. She already knew she'd be in tears but she hasn't even started the conversation yet.

"Y/n, I love you. I really really love you." Lando grins making her smile and swallow thickly.

Eventually she walks out and she sighs sniffling and moving to go hit the nail on the head.

"Have you been crying?" Lando questions before y/n can attempt a word out.

"Yes. Lando, I have to tell you something and I need you to listen. Just let me talk and then when I'm done you have your chance. Ok?"

"Can I say ok?"

Y/n looks at him, she knows he wants to make lightly of serious things but this time, it's not doing anyone any favours.

"Ok, ok. I'm listening." Lando nods realising that his humour isn't appreciated.

"I just want to start by saying that you need to know that I love you so much. So much that this has been killing me inside." Y/n states while Lando's concerned expression darkens, his mind rushing with what she's about to do. "Things haven't been right between us. We've been arguing or just...ignoring each other when we aren't arguing. It's no one's fault. But we need to stop."

Y/n pauses feeling her lip tremble as she looks at Lando.

"Stop?" He questions making her chest feel almost as still as stone. "We can do better, I know what you're saying. I get it."

"Lando...no. This is...we can't stay together. Not like this but not even trying to change. It's not fair on you and it's not fair on me."

"But you're not even trying." Lando stresses making her sigh.

"I'm sorry." Y/n mumbles watching as he shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

"No. No. I'm not just-"

"Space and time will make you realise that this is better, Lando. I-I can't pretend that we've even got anything left to save. I'd try if we did." Y/n states then hiccuping. "I don't want this but I can't keep forcing us to do this-I can't force myself to do this."

"You're giving up." Lando mutters making her almost flinch as if she's been slapped. The accusatory tone behind his voice does actually hurt.

"I should go."

"No. You can't just go. You can't just do this." Lando states now with his own voice wobbling. "You can't just...leave."

"This is for the better."

"But...I love you."

"Lando...this isn't...This isn't about love, it's...more than that. You can't have a relationship just because you love someone."

"I'm not going to give up even if you leave." Lando declares while y/n swallows back thickly. "So you can stay and talk or I'll come find you to talk to later."

"You're fighting the inevitable, Lando...don't make this hurt more than it already does."

"I'm fighting the preventable."

"You can't prevent something that's already happened, Lando." Y/n whispers not bothering to wipe away her tears from her cheeks as she stands up. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I'll follow you where ever you want to go and we'll talk when you've got out whatever hole you've let you head fall into."

Y/n picks up her stuff, pushing her back over her shoulder before she moves away from him and leaves.

Y/n curled up on her parents sofa, completely having cried herself to exhausted. Her mum is taking a bit of comfort in being able to take care of her daughter to make sure her self-inflicted broken heart has every chance of healing.

"You really fumbled." Y/n's cousin states from the lounge chair earning a glare from y/n and her aunt. "Oh come on, you know you did. That's why it hurts."

Y/n takes a breath to reply but the door bell rings and her cousin jumps up offering to be the first to go and answers the door. The voice that floats through as soon as the door is opened makes y/n and her mum lift their heads.

"Y/n, your ex is here." Y/c/n smiles sweetly as Lando follows her in looking a wreck which makes more tears fill her eyes.

"Honey?" Y/m/n whispers rubbing her leg gently to try and get some sort of words out, really hoping her daughter might display something more in terms of letting her know if she needs to politely show Lando back out.

"It's ok." Y/n mumble hardly recognising her own voice as her mum stands up gently touching Lando's arm in a comforting motherly way, because she knows he's done nothing wrong and she almost respects him for showing up.

After all y/n has been a mess, and y/m/n knows it's really massively down to her daughter that this all happened. Jumping the gun and throwing herself into an impulsive decision because she thought it was the "right" solution which would have the best outcome.

Y/n and Lando find themselves alone and not really sure what to do with themselves. Or more not actually sure what to say to one another.

"I had to check if this had been worth it for you." Lando admits suddenly then shrugging. "It doesn't feel so bad seeing that you're hurting too."

"Lando...I didn't do any of this to hurt you." Y/n sighs as he moves and sits down in her mum's spot, her eyes beginning to spill over. "I-I didn't want any of this. I didn't want to lose you, but...but we were hardly even in a relationship. It felt like I was pretending to be with someone who didn't really want to be with me at all."

"You didn't even talk to me until you decided it was over."

"Because...I felt like it was too late to talk about it." Y/n whispers using the sleeves of her sweater to wipe her face.

"It's never too late." Lando mumbles but she's not sure if it's to convince himself or her. "Y/n please don't make me leave here still single. Don't make me feel like there's really nothing between us anything more. Please."

Y/n is at a loss for words. She wants to insist this is a bad decision and that it will only end more painfully than the first. Which was bad enough and she was really trying for it to be an amicable ending to their relationship. An ending of joint understanding that something had gone somewhere.

"I know I was neglecting you. I know we-we argued and I was usually just being stubbornly in the wrong and hating it. But if you could just let me make it right, then I promise I won't let you feel as shitty as you had to have felt if you had to end this as the solution." Lando states clearly having reflected even if he felt as completely shit. "I love you...I always will. So you can make me leave here today, but it's not going to change that. Ever."

"My cousin let you in because she thinks I fucked up." Y/n whispers making Lando pull a face which tells her that he slightly agrees.

"You jumped to the most extreme reaction..." Lando mumbles while she tries to not feel like he's scolding her but really that is sort of the case. "I'll do better."

"Can you really forgive me for this though?" Y/n questions since really now that's the issue. "If we got back together could you really forgive me?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really! Y/n, for fuck sake. If I didn't want to be with you. If I thought there was nothing worth fighting for. I promise you, I wouldn't be here." Lando states abruptly making her jump a little. "Sorry, it's just...I told you I'm not letting you slip out my hands because of a rough patch. I'm not here fighting for you looking like I've been crying till I ran out of tears because I want to waste my energy. We know where we were going wrong so this time we'll fix it."

"Restarting our relationship looking like an absolute mess." Y/n laughs sniffling a little as she sighs. "Alright, come on then. First things first we both need to shower and try to depuff our eyes...and by the way, you shouldn't have driven when you were so upset."

"I was on a mission. My idiot girlfriend was being overdramatic." Lando shrugs with a heavy sigh but there's a smirk on his lips. "For a good reason, but overdramatic nevertheless."

"Hey! Your mum wants to know what the yelling is about?"

"We're not yelling, go away, y/c/n." Y/n sighs shaking her head before she looks at Lando while her cousin surprisingly does as she's told. "Clean up?"

"Yeah, we both smell really bad." Lando grins while she tsks poking his side making him laugh. "At least I know we were both a mess without each other."

"Yeah, well my pain was self-inflected. At least you get to say everything you did was my fault."

"Y/n...I let us get to the point that you gelt like breaking up was the only solution. It's not the only solution, that's why we/re fixing it and getting through it." Lando assures earning a small smile and nod before he leans forward and kisses her. "We are going to be just perfect."

"Because we're perfect?" Y/n hums making him grin at her.

"Of course." Lando confirms then standing up and offering his hand. "Come on stinky. Shower time."

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

Text

Propaganda

Dolores Hart (Wild is the Wind, King Creole)—She's the only famous movie star I know who gave up her career to become a nun, which is interesting.

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Dolores Hart propaganda:

Eartha Kitt propaganda:

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

#eartha kitt #dolores hart #hotvintagepoll #ladies 1 #fuck that old woman #....dolores honey i'm so sorry that propaganda sucks

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shalotttower · 4 months

Text

Fractalize (part 1)

Title: Fractalize

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.

Word count: 3700+

Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)

Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.

It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.

A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.

Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.

It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.

Imagine. Remake. Slip.

You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.

Remake, slip.

You have new vocabulary now.

"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.

"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".

"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.

"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.

"If you say so" - for everything else.

You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.

Yes this and no that.

Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.

Wasn't worth it.

***

"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.

It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.

You pull the blanket higher. "I do."

He knows it.

The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.

"What kind?"

Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.

Or-

You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.

She probably thought you abandoned her.

"Cats."

Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.

"We can get one, if you'd like."

"No."

Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.

"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.

The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.

She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.

Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."

A chair creaks. "Why?"

You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.

"Don't need it."

"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.

"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.

Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.

"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"

Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.

"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."

His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"

"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.

There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.

"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.

"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.

He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.

Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.

"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.

"On what?"

"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."

You don't respond.

To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.

Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.

His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.

"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.

"It's early."

"Mm."

He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.

You watch him. Wait.

"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."

Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.

"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."

You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.

"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."

"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."

You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.

He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.

You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.

"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.

His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.

"I'm right then," you say.

"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."

There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.

"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."

You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,

"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."

***

The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.

Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.

Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.

You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.

A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.

It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.

You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?

Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.

"Dear."

You almost jump.

Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.

"Mm?"

"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."

You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.

"Was just thinking."

"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.

True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.

For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.

Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.

He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."

His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.

"What was on your mind then?"

Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.

"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."

If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.

"Tell me."

You hate when he does that.

"It was boring."

"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."

Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.

If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.

It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.

"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."

Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.

"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."

There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.

"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, I got sad."

Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.

"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."

"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.

It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.

"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."

You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.

"Mm," you say.

Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.

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