#like i was thinking my very first ever set had more notes than like. half of my current gifsets combined

[simpjaes]

BIG D*CK FOR DUMMIES (s.jy)

The one where you find out that your boyfriend has a huge cock and you’re not entirely sure if you can take all of it. 

MDNI!!! | pls leave feedback and reblog your fave writers!

PAIRING ― jaeyun x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 2.4k

CONTENT ―  first time, established relationship, top jaeyun, painful sex

NOTE ― this was originally written for a different idol on my other blog [ncteez] but i pictured jake in that one en o’clock episode doing this and went feral so……here’s ur giant package. 

smut tags― he’s a little cocky (lmao), i guess you could say size kink but it’s more like huge cock / tiny pussy size kink, theres some crying, praising, reader gets off like almost instantly and becomes incredibly cock drunk the second he’s able to actually fuck

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Things you knew about your boyfriend before dating: he’s very protective, super smart, has good taste in music, his hands are big and warm, and he’s very down to earth.

Things you didn’t know about your boyfriend until after dating and he’s on top of you during a moody and rainy night makeout session: his cock is huge and it’s very intimidating.

One might ask, how could you have not known? Well, that’s easy. It’s a fairly new relationship and a very shy relationship at that. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, actually, because it’s not like you don’t want to be intimate with him. You definitely do, and apparently so does he. 

It’s the first time in the three weeks you’ve been dating that you’ve gotten to be completely alone with him in an intimate setting. For one, you live with your parents, and secondly, he lives with three other dudes who like to be all up in his business. It’s not exactly easy to get alone time with him. Thankfully, your parents are out on a five-day holiday somewhere in the Bahamas and you’re here on your family couch with Jaeyun’s hands cradling your neck as you kiss him. 

It got heated very fast, presumably because the two of you haven’t really had the privacy to do more than a standing makeout session without someone listening in, or worse, walking in. It almost makes the air feel electric now, kind of like a breath of fresh air except the fresh air tastes like the fruity chewing gum he had in his mouth when he originally came over.

Here’s the thing though, and man, it’s a thing. Looking at Jaeyun you’d think he’s average at best and you’re not really the type to go around guessing dick sizes.  So, naturally, when he slots a leg between yours as he got on top of you and you fucking felt it against your leg, you were a little more shocked than anticipated. Maybe he let out a little snide chuckle at your reaction too, you wouldn’t know, you were kind of busy wondering when he was going to let you in on the secret. 

Now, here you are deep in thought of how the hell that thing is going to fit anywhere while simultaneously one hundred percent willing to make it fit because god, does he know how to makeout and feel someone up. 

The more he kisses you, the more his hands roam, the more you experience intimate touches with him, the more you feel like your skin is on fire and replacing that intimidation with extreme arousal and lust. All the way until the point that the presumed makeout playlist starts over and he finally pushes a bit further with you.

“Is this okay?” He asks, now slotting himself entirely between your legs and essentially pressing his length directly against the pool that is threatening to seep through your fucking denim shorts. 

You give him a half nod, trying to pretend that he’s definitely a normal man with a normal cock. He smiles though, knowing full well that this isn’t what you were expecting. No one ever expects it from him. 

“You seem occupied,” he comments, pressing himself against you a little more and leaning down on his arms to nip at your lips. “or shocked, maybe?”

You try to kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to expose yourself for being entirely inexperienced with a size like his. 

“Hm?” He encourages you, pulling back again and looking directly into your eyes with a confident smirk. 

“Well,” you shift your eyes away and sigh out, “you’re kind of huge…” 

He takes that compliment and runs with it. It’s not like the two of you have to finally have sex or anything, but you both knew what was happening and you both definitely knew what the other wanted. At least ten minutes ago that was the situation.

“Is it too much?” He asks, this time a bit more concerned that his own biology could ruin this for you. 

“Probably? no, maybe?” 

Jaeyun pulls away from you, moving himself to sit back against the couch and give you your space. Considering probably and maybe isn’t a yes, he feels no need to push or pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. There have been times where he’s hurt another person while being intimate, though not intentionally, he’s not exactly willing to do that to you unless you’re like, you know, jumping his bones for it. 

“Still, i’d like to try–” You start, looking at him as you sit up and feel your entire body tingle at the cold air that replaces his warmth. “Maybe if we take it slow– like, really slow?”

He looks at you with shining eyes. He asked you to be his girlfriend because he genuinely likes you. He likes your voice, he likes the way you smell, likes when you talk about your favorite songs and favorite movies. He was definitely smitten from the moment he saw you trip on your own two feet down the front porch of a house party months ago. Taking it slow with you was pretty normal, and the fact that you want him too just makes him all the more willing to take his time. 

“I’ll take care of you, ” he hums, spreading his legs a bit across the couch to give himself more space to re-adjust himself. “Just tell me if I need to slow down?” 

You nod, staring directly between his legs and rubbing your own together on instinct. If anyone’s gonna split you open, it might as well be your boyfriend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When he said he would take it slow with you, he really meant it. The fact that he curled three fingers into you for a solid twenty minutes and you still feel like your legs will buckle on you at any moment knowing that this is just for prep– oh damn. 

 The fact that he even used his tongue on you for the first time, making sure you were more slippery than you already were for another twenty minutes? The fucking fact that you were on the verge of orgasm when he pulled it out and presented it to you like a cock you could totally sit on without issue? 

Fuck.

Reality washes over you far too quickly when you actually make that attempt. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like you were being torn apart by him, but part of you loves the way his gentle hands hold you steady as you try to sink down. You can feel the wet heat between your legs coat his length inch by inch as you start to slide down.

He stops you only for a moment when he notices you wincing. 

“Breathe, baby, just a little more.” He encourages, getting a nod from you before guiding you down further.

You breathe, clenching around him and doing your best to stop doing that so you can relax. You can tell he’s struggling to actually take it slow by now too, only because you can feel his hands shake against you as he holds himself back from obliterating you, probably. You’d think it would be quite endearing to see, if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes are blurring from the tears threatening to fall. 

Feeling embarrassed, you wipe your eyes and focus on how he feels inside of you. The pain is still there, but as you “sit” here, that pain somehow does replace itself with a strange sensation of pleasure little by little. You’ve always wondered what it felt like to be full, and it appears that this is exactly it.

It’s overwhelming.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks after noticing your tears, a bit of panic in his voice despite the fact that you could have sworn hearing a moan come out alongside it, “Pull up, it’s okay, you can–”

You sink down further instead, now bottoming yourself out on him and releasing a broken whine of both pain and pleasure. He grunts in unison to your whine, gripping your hips even harder than he already was and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Fuck,” he sighs out, lazily opening his eyes to look at the way you perch yourself on him so perfectly. “Such a tight fit.” 

You nod, mostly unable to hear a word he’s saying as you try to relax your body enough to get rid of that small hint of pain. The consistent clenching of your adjustments send your boyfriend spiraling a bit, unable to contain his sighs of pleasure as your tight and wet heat squeezes his cock.

“Tell me when I can move, please, tell me–” He groans out almost frantically, staring down at where you sit flush against him and wanting so badly to fuck into you.

 He’s wanted to do this to you since you started dating, now that it’s finally happening, and now that you’re quite literally jerking him off simply by adjusting to his size– you know, it’s not exactly easy to contain himself. 

You take a few more seconds to breathe before your body finally relaxes and you give him a reluctant nod. 

Instantly it’s like you’re seeing stars. He barely moves, all he does is flex his abs and press his hips up and it’s like he manages to fit another non-existent inch inside of you. 

You groan out, falling forward against his chest and gripping onto his shoulders as you feel your body adjust to even that small movement. To you, this is so fucking embarrassing, but to him? 

Hottest thing ever. Really. 

He can hear your whiny gasps against his neck when he moves and it’s driving him fucking wild, especially considering the fact that his cock is driven so deeply inside of you that he thinks you’d tell him to stop— but you don’t. 

You’re so good to him, and for what it’s worth, he wants to make sure this will be the best orgasm of your life.

Slowly, his hands fall to your ass and guide you up. You feel slight relief as a few inches leave you, and your stomach bubbles with that same sensation of both pleasure and pain when he slides you back down.

He moans out at you, almost like he’s cooing in pity at how much you’re trying to take for him. It’s incredibly sexy to hear now that your ears have stopped ringing and you’re beginning to believe that you’d never want anything smaller than him anyway.

This time, you lift on your own and sink back down just as fast, wincing again against his neck but releasing a moan that sounds more like pleasure than anything else. He sees this as a green light, gripping your ass and encouraging you to lift slightly again.

“Stay like this.” he mutters with a deep breath before kissing against your forehead and thrusting his hips up once, hard. 

The tight heat you’re offering sends him into a frenzy when paired with the wet slap of his pelvis hitting your pussy, and the sounds you’re making offer little in terms of stopping because by now, you’re both loving it. 

He thrusts into you with ease, the drag loud and slippery, the moans of pleasure you release only make him go faster, harder. Almost releasing a whimper of his own at how fucking perfect you are for taking all of it.

“Look.” he tries to let out, waiting for you to pull yourself up from his chest and look at him.

You do with ease, that broken face from before now replaced with lustful and blown out pupils. 

“Look how good you take it,” he praises with a groan, almost punctuating each word with a thrust, “knew you could take it.” 

Your broken smile that falls into a slack mouthed string of nonsense only continues to push him.  All the way until you can’t think straight at all, and you’re feeling your body tense up with such pressure that you can’t even warn him before your walls are clenching so tightly that it even hurts him. 

You grasp onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you, drenching his entire length as you hold your breath. Never have you gotten off while feeling so fucking full, and arguably, you don’t think you could ever feel an orgasm so intense without him being the one to split you open.

“There you go baby.” he hums, watching you breathlessly fall apart on top of him before picking up his rhythm again and chasing his own high.

By this point, you’re so well adjusted that even the searing pain of his restless thrusts feel good. Your brain is foggy but you can’t help but just fucking watch him.

This is your boyfriend and this is what it looks like when you’re making him feel good. 

“Are you close?” you start to bounce on him, meeting his rhythm and allowing him to rest his own hips. 

He nods as he looks at you, awestruck with how you’re already able to ride him as if you weren’t whining just moments before. Seeing you take him in full like this is enough to have his cock pulsing.

“Just a bit more, baby.” He closes his eyes and runs his hands up your waist. “Keep riding me, fuck.” 

And that, you do. Feeling proud of yourself for being able to actually take this literal monster, you focus on the twitch inside of you as he releases with a deep and breathy moan.

It’s entirely too sexy to ignore, and you continue to bounce even as he tries to hold you in place to subdue the sensitivity of his cock being fucking strangled by how tight you are. 

Once his body stops jerking and you feel the last twitching release inside of you, you fall forward and both of you groan from the sensitivity. 

“There are pros and cons to having a big dick, i guess.” he admits in a groan. 

Even when you laugh, there’s another wince from both of you followed by a groan.

“Pros: big dick.” he whispers, holding you still against him so you don’t move again before he can soften up and pull out. “Cons: big dick.” 

You still laugh, and it still hurts. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

me and my lame ass endings lmfaooooooooooooooooo

#enhypen smut #jake smut #jaeyun smut #enha smut #sim jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut

[saerins]

𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆

+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 2.4k | content: fluff, high school setting!, some cursing

notes: this was something requested by an anon !! i realised this prompt was also done in my other fic whole except nagi was the second lead :’) also pleaseeeee excuse me if this is ass because i haven’t written in a long time T_T but i’m working on getting back properly !! <3

summary: he didn’t ask you out because he wanted to, yet nagi gets more than he bargained for in the end.

“so, um, nagi, why’d you ask me out all of a sudden?”

it’s kind of an awkward situation to be in, you think, as you look around the arcade, shuffling your feet beside where nagi’s seated, trying to win some tickets from what you can only assume to be a music machine.

when he’d asked you out on a date yesterday, you didn’t think he’d take you to an arcade, of all places. (then again, nagi asking anyone out is sort of unbelievable, honestly.) if you knew sooner (or if nagi had bothered to tell you), you wouldn’t have worn such a nice dress for today.

besides, you’re not even sure why you’d agreed. call your state half-flustered or whatever, because you heard that nagi seishiro of all people does not bother with human relationships much. you’ve only ever seen him interact with mikage reo anyway—and you’d just chalked it up to him wanting it that way. nagi had never shown interest in girls or romance or that kind of shit, so cue your surprise when he asked you out yesterday, when he saw you at the bus stop.

“hey, wanna go on a date tomorrow?”

you blinked at him, utterly surprised because that was the first time that nagi had ever spoken to you.

“um, where to?” (you were still malfunctioning over the fact that he was asking you out on a date.)

nagi scratched the back of his head, and you could faintly make out reo a few ways behind him, watching on.

“hmm, not sure, i’ll text you tomorrow morning?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. “what’s your number?”

okay sure, you could’ve asked for more details, but it was hard getting nagi to respond to you at all. you’re pretty sure he was gaming, that’s why.

“oh, ‘cause reo asked me to.”

that… was not the answer you were expecting. “reo asked you to?”

nagi has a bad habit of not elaborating. you don’t really like that, because you don’t like asking questions, but you can’t help yourself now. this is too bizarre for you to let go.

“yeah, something about how he’s sick of me playing games all day long, told me to go get a date, then he’d return me my switch,” nagi mumbles, and you can’t help but think that reo’s plan may have backfired, considering how he’s on a date and still playing games.

while nagi’s grey eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, you find yourself drawn to the way he’s sucking in his cheek as he concentrates, the way his bangs fall over his eyes and how his fingers can respond so quickly to the lines on the screen.

“you’re pretty good at this,” you tell him, getting lost in how well he’s playing. the points on the screen gets so high he’s almost nearing the high score.

for a moment, nagi’s distracted by how close you are to him; your hair smells like citrus and it’s really smooth. it’s also the only time anyone other than reo has been this close and you’re not anyone so he doesn’t really see why you’re able to steal his focus from the game.

someone like you shouldn’t make him notice things that aren’t about games or himself.

but you do—and he misses the first note since the start of the game, though he recovers fairly easily.

he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re in his class and you’re very pretty (now that he’s actually looking at you). you have a really cute laugh too, he realises, right when he wins the game and probably what’s a thousand tickets, with you rejoicing happily beside him.

“oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this,” you’re jumping and giggly and nothing like how quiet you are in school and why does he feel a little giddy knowing that he’s getting to see this firsthand? this doesn’t make sense. “okay, move aside, teach me, i wanna do it too.”

nagi obliges. it’s a pain having to teach someone else compared to doing it himself, he gets to know, as you miss probably half the notes on screen even when he tries to tell you how to do it. hell, he’s not really a good teacher.

you win about 300 tickets.

“not bad for a rookie,” nagi comments as you grab your own pile and stack it in your shared basket. the neon red and blue flashes pretty against your skin. it makes you even prettier, he feels.

you raise a brow. “nagi seishiro, wanna play a bet?”

no, not really. but somehow, he can’t quite turn down a game when it’s from you.

“what’re you betting?”

you hold out the basket in front of you. “i’m gonna find a game where i can beat you.” your chest is puffed out, like you’re determined, like you really believe you can. “if i lose, you can decide my punishment.”

nagi blinks at you. you’re… weird. you make his heart beat faster than usual. it’s a little concerning. “and if you win?”

grinning, you wink at him, “let’s leave that to later.”

whatever possessed him to spend the entire day following you around the arcade and watching you fail, he doesn’t know. you’re pretty bad at everything compared to him, but it’s not really fair—he’s probably spent ten times as much of his days in the arcade than you.

have you ever even set foot in here before?

nagi observes as you try desperately to beat him in ddr. you fail, naturally. your feet coordination really isn’t that good, but it’s pretty cute how hard you’re trying. you’re still pretty even at the end of it, even when you’re sweating and some of your hair is matted against your skin. he keeps that to himself though.

throughout the entire day, nagi finds himself entertained by your persistent insistence to beat him at something. it’s funny how you’re awful at the arcade games. it’s also funny how you’re honestly trying. it’s really no use but here you are, sweating once again from shooting hoops.

your 64 versus nagi’s 154.

“wow, you’re really bad at all these games,” nagi murmurs when he sees your score. “wanna go somewhere else?”

you’re quick to open your mouth but it takes you just as quick to shut it, probably knowing you’ll never beat him. at least, not today. “fine, you win,” you say through gritted teeth. you’re a little prideful; nagi’s learning a lot about you. “what do you want?”

nagi seems to have forgotten your earlier bet. he just shrugs and tells you to choose what you want at the exchange counter.

“you don’t want anything?”

nagi looks at the prizes with such disinterest it makes you wonder what can interest a guy like him. he shakes his head, “i can get anything i want anytime anyway.”

(the underlying insinuation that coming to the arcade with him is your only chance to win prizes flies right over your head.)

but when nagi looks at your slightly disappointed face, he tries to backtrack. “i’ll let you know when i think of something i want since i won,” he says, looking away from you. “but you choose one of the prizes today.”

turns out it’s so easy to please you. just like that and that smile is back on your face.

you choose a big goddamn pink teddy bear by the way. nagi sighs as he leaves the arcade with you. it’s probably a character nagi doesn’t know. he’s judging you, but then you hug it and smile at him and he forgets what he’s thinking about.

“i know this was only because reo asked you to, but…” you mumble after you and nagi both finished eating dinner, sitting across from each other at the ramen shop. “it was fun.”

nagi’s not sure what this is. just a customary thing where you’re showing appreciation for the time you two spent together today? you’re looking away from him though, he’s pretty sure normal customs don’t dictate that. he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to look at him when you say that.

“why’re you looking away?”

you look at him in blank shock (an expression that he doesn’t know how to process—what’s so weird about asking you that?) before you smile helplessly. “you’re very weird, nagi seishiro.”

“what do you mean?” nagi’s clueless, in that nagi seishiro way only he can be.

a few seconds of silence pass when you try to make up your mind. it’s unnerving how big and wide his eyes are, especially when they’re focused only on you and nothing else. in the end, you manage with a shake of your head.

“it’s nothing,” you decide. telling him of your possible crush on him would not do any good, you guess.

something bugs nagi; he can’t understand what it is. he just knows something feels off but it’s not like he’s ever felt this particular kind of irk—he doesn’t know what to do.

when the time comes to leave the restaurant, nagi finds himself walking the opposite way to his home because you started walking first.

somehow, his feet follows you.

it’s stupid—walking this far away from the direction of his home is troublesome. it’ll be a hassle to get home when his bus is on the other side of the long gone restaurant. why is he walking you to the train station again when he’ll just see you next week anyway? you’re in the same class.

“oh, are you gonna take the train too?”

nagi blinks at you, drawing a blank at your question. he must’ve completely zoned out. did the both of you get here in complete silence?

“no,” he answers honestly. he doesn’t elaborate. as usual.

by now, that doesn’t surprise you. instead you just nod your head, a hesitance borne in the shuffling of your feet. “well,” you drawl out, dragging the syllable, somehow hoping this wasn’t the end of the night but it is. “this was a nice one-time date,” you settle for, smiling. you’re about to just say goodbye, but you bite on your bottom lip, contemplating, before you slip his phone out of his hand and slide the screen to the side, taking a picture of the both of you together, nagi looking at the screen in surprise and you winking beside him.

when you hand it back to him, you bite your inner mouth, trying not to grin. “in case reo asks for evidence,” you offer as an excuse. you totally didn’t want to take a picture with nagi. “he better give you your game back!”

nagi gets this fleeting feeling that he doesn’t know how to explain when he sees you smiling at him. like how you remind him of the color gray. not because it’s bland but because it’s his favourite color. you remind him of spring and the cool breeze and how refreshing it feels.

“it was a nice one-time date, nagi seishiro,” you chuckle before you turn around, ready to head into the station and probably never spend such time with nagi again. you’ll probably get over the sadness of what could’ve been pretty quickly. you think.

but just before you can enter, you hear the firm steadiness in nagi’s voice. “no.”

you whip your head around, not quite sure you heard him right. “no?” you narrow your stare a little, moving out of other people’s way as they push past you into the station. “as in, you didn’t like it?”

you hope he doesn’t mean it like that.

nagi looks away, earnestly processing it. it came blurting out of him, he didn’t even know what he said until he said it. “i won the bet and what i want is… this. again. with you.”

the implications of his words slowly sink in and it has you feeling giddy. nagi, the guy who barely cares about anything nor makes the time for anyone—is he actually telling you this? is he really saying he’d take you out more?

meanwhile, nagi’s feet stay firmly planted where he is, wondering why you make him feel like this, why you make him feel like he can’t get enough. you’re just… you. before today, he could honestly say you were insignificant. but just the way you are; how you speak, your smile, your laugh and your resilience—nagi likes it, finds comfort in it, somehow.

“then,” you say as you enter the station, face giddy with the excitement of something new blossoming. “i’ll wait for more dates with you, sei.”

the way you call him that makes his heart skip a beat and he’s left blankly staring at your figure as you retreat into the station, stealing his heart with you.

“fine, fine,” reo sighs. it’s two days later on a monday and reo grudgingly gives nagi back his switch. “so, what’d you two do anyway?” he asks, shifting his gaze between nagi and you, though you’re at the other end of the classroom, talking excitedly to your friends.

nagi’s attention quickly transfers to his switch, already opening up a game to play. “nothing much,” is all he offers, and reo’s beginning to think maybe it was more of a punishment for you than a date.

reo sighs again, ready to lecture nagi for being the worst date ever when he pulls up his phone to look at the time. but he accidentally takes nagi’s phone instead, unlocking it to find his own chat thread—to which nagi doesn’t even bother saving his name (reo side eyes him but nagi doesn’t even realise).

that doesn’t surprise him, but what does is when reo realises your contact is saved—with the icon being a picture of the two of you together. you must really be something to be able to make nagi do something so idiotic like this.

“oi, nagi.”

nagi only responds with a raise of his brow. he’s still clicking away at the controls. reo guesses it must be a racing game from those sounds.

“if you guys get married i better be the best man for being your matchmaker,” reo teases, his grin filling his face.

even though nagi doesn’t respond, the champagne pink that brushes across his cheeks is enough indication to reo of nagi’s feelings for you.

looks like he never needed to worry after all.

#bllk x reader #nagi x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi x you #nagi seishiro x reader #bllk fluff #nagi fluff #nagi seishiro x you #seishiro nagi x you #nagi x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #nagi seishiro x y/n #seishiro nagi x y/n #nagi seishiro fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

[ihavethedreamies]

Easy | Felix | Easy to Expert (1)

Lee Yongbok (Felix - Stray Kιds)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5k

Pairing: Felix x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Biting, One Singular Spank, He Gets a Bit Rough, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Don't do what they do.)

Summary: In which you can't normally get off and Felix doesn't like this one bit.

Author's Note: Imagine trying to write something like this with a straight face because you are at your uncle's house in the living room with everyone else there and you can't go anywhere else...

Also your friend's name is Yuna here and she's not a reference to any idol or anything, this was just the name that came to mind.

-> Part 2 <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"He had the stamina of a work horse; I thought I was going to die."

"Really?" You weren't convinced.

"No, seriously. I had never came that many times in one session." Your friend shook her head and you blinked. You watched her take a swig of beer and you took another bite of chicken.

"You started without us?" Someone whined behind you, and you turned to see Jisung and Minho coming up to your table. The younger man pouted as he sat down in the empty chair next to you while Minho sat on his other side.

"You guys are half an hour late." Yuna sneered at them, waving a drumstick aggressively.

"Where's everyone else?" you asked.

"Seungmin can't make it, Jeongin is sick. Chan and Changbin are on their way from the studio. Felix and Hyunjin just left campus after dance practice." Minho listed off, waving his hand up to get the auntie's attention to get beer.

"Is Jinnie going to shower first? Poor thing looks like he fell in a pond after dance practice." Yuna bounced a bit as she talked since the waitress brought over the order of Tteokbokki you had ordered.

"That's why they're late." Jisung spoke around a mouthful.

"Anyway, he ended up breaking up with me because I apparently wasn't enough for his libido." Yuna continued her story despite the fact two of the boys had arrived and Chan and Changbin were arriving.

"Woah, what?" Chan laughed setting his bag down next to her and the other man sat across from Minho.

"Is this the same guy who said he wished he had two dicks to fuck twice as much?" Changbin asked as you watched his shirt tighten over his chest as he took his jacket off. Everything he wore was so tight…You were taken out of your zone-out when he scoffed, "My eyes are up here (Y/N)." Everyone laughed at you and your face tingled a bit, you took a sip of beer not meeting his eyes.

"Wait, what?" Chan asked again and Yuna rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. I think he was possessed by a sex demon or something, geez."

"Who are we talking about?" The oldest man asked. Yuna then recapped everything she had told you to Chan who stared blankly at her the whole time.

"Okay, way more than I ever needed to know." He shook his head and grabbed his chopsticks.

"You don't even know the half of it." Changbin huffed and the other girl gasped dramatically.

"You asked me to tell you most of it!"

"Not everything! I really didn't care about who you did everything with first, that was a long ass list."

"A list of asses?" Minho seemed to tune in at a very specific time.

"Do I want to know?" A new voice groaned as Hyunjin sat at the end of the table. Felix came around to the other end near you and took a seat.

"Yuna is sharing WAY too much again." Jisung's eyes got big to emphasize his point.

"Well, this started because (Y/N)-"

"NO!" You almost leaped across the table to shut her up. That unfortunately made the boys all the more curious and it was getting steadily louder as they urged you to share. If not but to spare the rest of the patrons and workers, you finally relented.

"I just told her that I didn't see too much point in rushing into sex in a relationship because I don't get much out of it." You didn't look at anyone, just cast a glare at Yuna, then back at your beer bottle.

"Well, you need to find someone else then." Minho told you matter-of-factly.

"It doesn’t matter, and it's not like partners haven't tried…I just can't…I-I can't finish…" You mumbled the last part, and it went deathly silent. You could feel the eyes on you but for some reason, the ones to your left were burning. Glancing up to meet Felix's stare, you're startled by his expression. He looked…intense. You shifted under his gaze. He knew you liked him, and you knew he liked you, but not much had come of it. You two kissed briefly a few weeks ago but it was interrupted, and it hadn’t happened since.

"Wait, seriously? Have you ever?" Chan asked, he had stopped eating. This was serious to him.

"Yeah, but it took forever. I had to do it myself and it wasn't easy." You shrugged. Because of this fact you hadn't had very many sexual encounters or partners. It’s just frustrating when nothing ever came of it.

"So that's when I told her that my last boyfriend might be able to do it since he got me off like six times at once." Yuna explained as she shoved more food in her mouth.

"Did you ex ever do it?" Jisung asked and you nodded.

"Once." That wasn't why you had broken up; he had moved away for work and long distance didn't work too well so you drifted apart.

"Have I ever told you guys about my college roommate's girlfriend?" Hyunjin cut in and quickly everyone was diverted over to his story of the fact that this girl was not loyal by any means. And neither was her boyfriend. Unfortunately for Hyunjin, he was both of their type and he ended up having to switch rooms. The night continued and as more food was eaten, more alcohol was consumed. The rowdiness became too much, and you were more or less kicked out. Yuna was drunk and Changbin promised to get her home in one piece, so he left with her on his back. Chan, Jisung, and Hyunjin followed suit since they all were going to the same place, and you were left with Minho and Felix.

"I'll walk her home. Go check on Jeongin, he might be asleep already but he's not texting back." Felix told the older man who nodded and said goodbye so you two were left alone. You had only one beer that night and Felix didn't even finish his, so you were not even tipsy.

"I-I can get home okay, I didn't drink much." You tried to wave him off.

"It’s okay. Just because you're sober doesn't mean I should let you go alone." He smiled softly and you internally gushed over how pretty he was.

"Thanks." Beginning to head in the opposite direction of everyone else, you two walked in silence for most of the time, but it was companionable. In your head you just kept replaying the small kiss from a few weeks before, not really sure why you were looping on it. When you got to your building, you expected him to leave you at the door, but he opened the door for you and led you toward the elevator.

"D-Do you want to come in? I have some cheesecake left that I can't finish on my own…" You couldn't meet his gaze as you waited for the elevator.

"Sure, thanks." His deep voice was so warming, and you wondered what it would sound like whispering in your ear. You shook your head to clear the thought and got in the lift to get to your floor. Keying in your pin code, the door chimed, and you let him into your apartment. You lived alone and so your place had some clutter about. You hung your coat and bag up, changed to slippers, then moved to clear the papers and pens off the couch. After moving the stuff into a more organized pile on the coffee table, you stood and turned to go to the kitchen, but instead ran into Felix's chest. He was wearing a grey turtleneck that was way tighter than you though it would be on him. His sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows and his hand moved to steady you when you stumbled in surprise at his proximity. Compared to other men, he wasn't very tall, but he was still quite a bit taller than you. When the hands that steadied you moved from your arms to your waist, you were pulled to him even closer. Your breath hitched and your hands instinctually gripped the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders. When your eyes met, he leaned in and as his lips hovered over yours, his deep voice rumbled through you.

"Can I?"

"Y-yes." Your hands moved to rest closer to his neck and he kissed you. This one was different than before. Last time was chaste and soft, but this was growing heated fast. Felix tilted his head more and licked at your bottom lip prompting you to open your mouth. You moaned softly as his tongue invaded your mouth and when he groaned back it was like thunder shook you. Reluctantly, you let him pull away so you both could take a breather.

"Was what you said true? You really can't cum?"

"M-most of the time." It was embarrassing to talk about it in front of everyone, but for some reason it seemed like Felix took it personally.

"Hm. If you let me, I might be able to help." He leaned down some to say this right into your ear, then he sucked on your ear lobe. You shuddered and tilted your head to let him get better access to your neck. He laid searing kisses along your skin, and you swallowed hard.

"O-okay." You were a bit reluctant since it hadn't worked well before. At the same time, he was turning you on way faster than anyone or anything else before. You were not blind, or deaf, he was incredibly attractive, and you would be stupid to say no. Felix's lips pulled into a smile against your throat and he sucked on that spot hard, his teeth digging in slightly. You moaned louder than you meant to, and he could feel your throat vibrate as you did. Not realizing he could pull you closer, when he did you felt him hard against your stomach. His lips moved from your neck, which now had at least three bruises on it, back to your mouth and he dominated the kiss, taking complete control. Finally, to gain more oxygen, he pulled away from you and your head was swimming. He could sense that you were dazed, so he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, carrying you to your room. Setting you down at the end of your bed, he kneeled before you, the look on his face shocked you. You were expecting a fire there, lust, but it was so warm and soft, and you weren't sure how to react.

"I'm doing this because I like you so much. I hate that no one's made you feel good like you deserve. But at the same time…" The hand on your waist dug into your flesh and his expression sharpened, "I want to be able to say I'm the only one that can say he did. Easy." His confession made your walls clench around nothing.

"Will you let me?" Felix asked.

"Of…of course. I like you too-" He cut you off with another devouring kiss and his hands wandered under your sweater and helped you take it off. If you had known this was going to happen, you wouldn't have worn such a plain set of underwear. As the make-out session continued he also removed your socks and pants and he finally pulled back to take his own clothes off. You watched with rapt attention as his turtleneck came off, and…damn. Felix was way more ripped than you thought he would be. Not quite to the level of Chan or Changbin…You were even more enthralled as he took his belt off and undid his jeans to let them fall. His hard cock was straining against the black fabric of his tight briefs, but he left them on as he kneeled before you again. He stood as high as he could on his knees, making him eye level with you.

"Can I?" He reached around your back, and you nodded so he could unhook your plain nude bra. As he took it off, he gently bumped his forehead against yours and flashed a smile.

"You're so pretty." He cooed and you huffed, looking away in embarrassment.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black." You mumbled and he giggled. Felix laid a soft kiss on your lips then began to move down. To your neck, collarbone, sternum, then down your right breast where he latched his mouth around your nipple. You exhaled and let him do what he wanted. He didn't garner much of a reaction, but it felt better than it normally did. He hummed in thought and then he laved his tongue around the peak of your breast, then his teeth slightly dug in, and you gasped. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smile, and he sucked hard on your nipple again and your skin tingled. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and he pulled away with a pop and moved to do the same to the other side. Your breathing was getting a bit heavier and as he pulled away from your chest, he pressed his hand on your sternum, telling you to lay back. You did so and as you did; he straight up bit your left breast on the swell of the flesh. This pulled a surprised moan from you, and he smirked, pulling back.

"You left a mark!" You scoffed and he laughed, "You're going to end up with a lot more, love." You gaped at him and before you could answer, his mouth was back on you, kissing over your ribs. You sighed and he moved down to your belly button, then licked a path up to under your breasts. His actions heated your skin, and he moved back down to the waistband of your panties.

"You okay with this?" His fingers had slipped under the fabric to run along your butt, his face close to your covered pussy. He could smell your arousal already and couldn't wait to bury his tongue inside you.

"Yes. How about I tell you if I'm not and you just do whatever you want." You finally told him. You loved that he asked and made sure, but you just wanted him to keep going.

"Whatever I want?" He whispered to himself, and his intense gaze met yours.

"Are you sure, love?"

"Y-yes." You felt like a small furry creature about to be devoured by a tiger.

"Hm." He smirked and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, dragging you to the end of the bed. Felix pressed his face into your covered cunt and licked at your clit through the fabric. You twitched a bit, but not enough for his liking. He clicked his tongue and instead of pulling your panties off, he tore them off. The side hem was fraying a bit and it allowed him to rip the fabric and he tossed the remnant away. You would have complained if it was a nicer pair. The display of strength was incredibly attractive. Once again, Felix's hands gripped your ass, hauling you closer and immediately shoved his tongue into your cunt. You exhaled harshly, laying back. It was if he was a man lost in the desert and you an oasis. He was practically drinking from you, devouring you. His nose bumped your clit as his tongue reached as deep as he could get it. You grunted slightly, surprised at how good it felt. He noticed that every time the tip of his nose hit your button that you flinched very slightly. Removing his face from between your legs for a moment, he took his thumbs and spread you open, and you squealed. It was embarrassing, but you didn't say anything, so he kept going, smirking as you covered your face. Licking another stripe from your core to your clit, he sealed his lips around the little bud and sucked as hard as he could. Your hips jumped slightly, and your breathing picked up, but it wasn't enough yet. Furrowing his brow, he pulled back again, tipping his head. If he wasn't doing what he was it would have been rather cute. He had one more trick up his sleeve. He took his thumb once again and rubbed a circle over your clit to see how you reacted. Glancing up he pushed harder against it to fully expose it, then he leaned forward to suck again. It was a stronger feeling than before and it made your hips jump again but then he did something unexpected, he placed your clit between his teeth and bit down a bit.

"Fuck!" You twitched hard, he wrapped his arm around your hips to hold them down, then he sucked again and gave another little nibble.

"F-Felix-" You gasped, and you were getting close. It was a different feeling than even the few times before. As he abused your poor little clit, he quickly inserted two fingers in your rapidly wetting cunt. This made you gasp again, and he could feel how tight you would be, but he was figuring out you needed a little bit of pain. Once more, he nibbled down, and at the same time he crooked his fingers up hard against your sweet spot and you fell apart. You saw white, you had never felt anything to that extent before. You had slammed your hand over your mouth, but he could still hear you nearly scream out a moan and he smiled cockily; your pussy walls clenched hard around his fingers and cum spurted out of your cunt. He held your hips down, feeling the muscles twitch and spasm. It seemed like it lasted forever and when you finally came down, you were panting hard. He kneeled straighter, pulling his fingers out of you, and noted that you had draped your arm over your eyes, and he couldn't tell if there were tears or sweat flowing down your cheeks. As he stood, Felix licked his fingers clean, and he kneeled over you some and pried your arm from your face. You looked dazed, and he still couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears.

"You did so good, love." He stroked the hairs back that were stuck to your forehead.

"How the actual fuck did you do that?" You gaped and he guffawed.

"It seems you like it to hurt a bit?"

"Hurt? It didn’t?" You seemed genuinely confused. Were you really that insensitive? With how tight your cunt was around his fingers he thought for sure it would have stung a bit. Most of the time getting bit somewhere that tender would hurt some even if it felt good.

"Interesting…" He thought for a second then looked back down at you.

"Do you wanna keep going?" Felix brushed a drop of the moisture from your cheek and you glanced at him.

"Why wouldn't I?" He huffed at that.

"You look like you just ran a marathon."

"Felix, if you can make me come, I'm going to let you do it as many times as possible." You deadpanned and his shocked expression softened, and he hummed. He bent over and kissed your forehead gently. His hand grabbed yours and he brought your knuckles to his lips so he could press another kiss there.

"(Y/N), I just want you to know, that I really like you, and I want to just hold you and love you all night." He admitted and your heart began to thud.

"But I think what you need is to be fucked senseless." His voice deepened even further, and his gaze sharpened. Your heart raced even more, and it seemed he was waiting for permission.

"Oh, god, please." You said quickly and he chuckled.

"Scoot up." He kissed your hand once more then let go and he got off the bed, letting you do as he requested. He went and turned your lamp on and shut the big overhead light off. He came over as you pulled your nightstand drawer open to make sure you did have condoms and that they weren't expired.

"What's this?" He had stopped next to you as you grabbed the box and his hand reached in a grabbed something else.

"Oh, uh-" Before you could answer he opened the box. He knew what it was before he asked. Inside there was a series of sex toys and it seemed none of them could do the trick. Bullet vibrator, one looked like a rose with suction, there was a rabbit vibrator, but the one that shocked him the most was the butt plug. It vibrated too and the plastic still hadn't been taken off of the box.

"Woah." He teased, pulling it out and you groaned.

"Haven't tried it?"

"I…Nothing else worked so I figured it was worth a try but I got nervous…"

"Hmm." He was thinking something, and you weren't sure you liked the look on his face.

"Another time." He shook his head and dropped it back in the box and put it in the drawer again and took the condom box from you.

"Hm." He hummed again and you shot him a look.

"What?"

"Have you tried anything with like ribbing or whatever?"

"Yes…didn't do jack. Even did the ones with like warming lube and stuff."

"…I have an idea but only if you're okay with it?"

"What?"

"I know it’s good to be double sure, but you're on the pill, yeah?"

"Yes."

"It seems you have trouble feeling stuff there, you would probably feel more without this." He rattled the box. He had a point, the only reason you used both was for security.

"We can get the morning after thing if you want-"

"That's fine." He seemed to know what he was doing, and you weren't overly worried about it.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Felix." You assured and he nodded, dropping the box back into the drawer, "They're the wrong size anyway." He muttered that to himself, but you caught it. Closing the drawer, he crawled back onto the bed and kneeled at your feet, then cast you a look. You nodded and he pulled your knees apart and for some reason it was still embarrassing even though his tongue had literally been inside you. You were neither a virgin nor a prude, but for some reason, since it was Felix, it felt different.

"Relax, love." He smiled, pressing his lips to yours again and his tongue slipped into your mouth. You whined when he pulled back and he chuckled, then maneuvered and removed his underwear and threw them somewhere.

"Fuck." You whined and you wanted him in your mouth.

"This is about you, love, not me." He pinched your nose, able to tell what you were thinking from the expression on your face.

"Fine." You pouted and his fingers went back to your cunt and gathered the wetness there and you watched as he stroked himself to get ready. What the fuck was he fed that despite his small size his cock was that big? Whatever it was also probably made his voice as deep as it was as well.

"Ready? I'm going to be rough with you." He warned, his sharp gaze rehardened, the softness still there underneath.

"Please." You let him just grab you, he spread your legs open wide, a slight burn in your hamstrings. There was very little time between the head of his cock meeting your cunt and him burying all the way to the hilt. It took your breath away and he grunted at how tight your hot core felt around him. He had honestly never had sex without a condom before either. After being inside your wet heat with no barrier, he didn't think he could ever do anything but, especially since he planned on being with you longer than he consciously realized. You were shivering at the sensation, his hot flesh searing through you, spreading you open so much so instantly. It stung some but it felt better than any other time and you weren't sure if it was because he was fucking you raw or that he was that big. You didn't even want to know how much bigger Chan supposedly was. He contemplated letting you get used to him, but Felix was losing control fast, and it seemed like you liked it rough. His hands on your thighs spreading them open gripped the flesh, easily swinging your legs up so he folded you in half, your knees at your ears.

"Hold on, love." Using his dancing skills, he snapped his hips as hard as he could, and your next orgasm hit you. If you whited out before, you practically blacked out that time. It was like water rushed over your head, your rapid pulse thudding in your ears, your blood audibly racing. He grunted and you could barely hear it through the ringing in your ears and he dug his fingers hard into the flesh of your thighs to hold back his own orgasm. Your walls were hugging his cock so tight, and you were practically gushing around him. He hoped that he had pulled some kind of seal off of you, and that he could get you to fall apart over and over and over. He wanted to be the one that could say he fucked you stupid and that no one could ever finish you simply because they weren't him. His ego shot through the roof, and he wanted to ruin you. When he first thought of going through with this, the plan was to show you how much he loved you, what you meant to him. But he had no idea what you liked and what would finally get you off. If you needed rough, he would do it. Looping his thoughts to keep distracted from the vice of your cunt, he finally felt you relax, and you nearly went boneless, your legs in his grip losing all strength. You were heaving for air again, not sure which way was up or down, how old you were, or even your own name. All you could think of was Felix.

"No!" You yiped as he pulled out, but he rolled you over onto your stomach, hauled your hips up, your face buried in the pillow and he buried his cock back into your needy pussy, making you white knuckled the sheets. He began a truly relentless pace, and it was the best thing anyone had ever done to you.

"You like my cock, love?"

"Fuck, yes!" You managed to get out, each thrust made you silently scream, forming words became nearly impossible. Maybe the fact that he got you to orgasm allowed you to be more sensitive; then maybe because you had tried for so hard for so long with no success, your body could finally let go. Felix had the key to not only your heart, it seemed, but your cunt as well.

Leaning forward, he gripped the frame of your bed for leverage and kept his thrusts just as hard but extremely shallow. The fat head of his cock beat against your back walls so hard that you were sure they would forever be molded to only him. You felt another climax rising and your own hands scrambled to grip the wooden rods of your bed frame as well.

"F-Felix!" You managed to get out and you watched one of his hands leave the frame above you, and he smacked your right ass cheek and upper thigh hard, and you fell over the edge again. This time, he couldn't hold back either, and he fucked as deep into you as he could and filled your womb with his cum. That sensation made your climax flare to max again even though it had begun to dissipate, and your fluttering canal helped him ride out his own orgasm. You thanked the Lord birth control existed because you never wanted him to cum anywhere but inside after that. As you both caught your breath, he slowly pulled out of you and the adrenaline left you and now you were sore. Your clit, your pussy, where he had smacked you, everything. You didn't think you would be able to walk tomorrow. When he had fully withdrew, your hips slumped down and you flopped flat onto the bed, not able to move.

"Hold on, love." He leaned over you and kissed your hot cheek, covered in tears from the intensity of what he just reeked on you. You felt him wipe your used cunt off with a towel and you whined when he moved you to pull the blanket out from under you. He made a note to remove the comforter before fucking you on the bed again, because he sure was planning on doing it again.

"You're fine, pretty girl." He chuckled and crawled into bed with you. He shut the lamp off and the room was cast in shadow before your eyes got used to the dull light of the streetlights behind the curtain. Getting settled, he saw you had laid on your side already, the only way you could fall asleep. Smiling he curled around you, wiggling his arm under your head and wrapped his other around your middle. He rested his hand on your tummy, holding you close. He had to be careful, your cute little butt pressed against his now-covered groin was enough on its own to get him riled back up. The arm under your head bent so his hand could rest on your forehead, and he kissed the back of your head.

"Goodnight, love." Felix hugged you as close as possible, loving being your big spoon.

"I won’t be able to walk tomorrow." You mumbled and buried his nose in your hair and smiled smugly.

"If you can I won’t have done my job right."

"Thank you, 'Lix."

"Of course, sweet." Another kiss to your head.

"Go to sleep. I'll take care of you tomorrow. And every day after that you'll have me." His deep but quiet voice rumbled next to your ear, and you linked your fingers with his on the hand on your stomach.

"I'll have you always, Felix."

"Good, because you're stuck with me now."

-> Part 2 <-

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #stray kids #skz #stray kids felix #skz felix #skz fluff #skz smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #felix smut #felix fluff #lee yongbok #lee felix #felix lee #x reader #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #felix x reader

[zackmartin]

Gif makers deserve so much love, i tried making gifs, they were meh (i used a phone app so it wasnt really a good gif) but when i see other gifs it blows me away the talent the skill the patience

Yes!! Thank you!! (I know my gifs are also pretty meh a lot the time so i'm honestly mostly just annoyed on behalf of other gifmakers) But like. I used to pay for photoshop because I used it for school/work, so it was really irritating when someone would steal my gifs and repost and then when I'd politely ask them to delete, I'd get something like "they're just gifs 🙄" but it was like. I basically paid to make those lmao and I mean. If you like them enough to go to the trouble of downloading them and reposting then. just reblog!! that's what that button is for!!

sorry, that happened a couple times a few years ago, but I'm still mad about it lol

And honestly, I'm super super meticulous about my gifsets, so the more complicated ones usually end up taking me a couple weeks to complete. (Like, I know it's annoying that I reblog my purple and red max thunderman set every few months, but I spent literal weeks on it)

But, again, I know mine are pretty meh anyway and I gif for super niche/small fandoms, so I've made peace with the fact that my sets will usually only have a few reblogs but like. I was looking at the notes on one of my friends edits the other day cause I'm nosy and I like to see the nice things people put in the tags and I was so bummed to find that it had like, 20+ likes but only a few reblogs. And this was for a relatively big fandom!!

sorry for going off a tangent, I just feel passionately about this cause you're right. But, thank you also for saying it. It's just nice when people send asks like this because it's a nice reminder that there are people that still appreciate content creators and also it's just sweet of you to say <3

#asks #anon asks #I'm always going to be bummed that I accidentally deleted my blog a few years ago #cause there was a time where I was like. the sole gifmaker in the henry danger fandom #and those were like. the literal first EVER gifsets I ever made. Like HD i s the reason I started giffing. #cause there were basically no gifs and I just thought 'okay i guess I'll have to learn to do it myself' lmao #and that was at a time when people actually reblogged. so those sets at least had pretty even like-to-reblog ratios #but now it's just. dozens and dozens of sets. gone. #anyway that's not quite related to what we were talking about but this just made me think of it and I got upset all over again lol #like i was thinking my very first ever set had more notes than like. half of my current gifsets combined

[actual-changeling]

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner, and today I have something surprisingly not kiss-related—though it is still about the final fifteen because hey, gotta keep the brand image.

I read this post by @goodoldfashionednightingale and began typing a small response. Then I made the mistake of drinking half a litre of coffee on an empty stomach right after taking my adhd meds and my brain began vibrating at the speed of light.

But oh, have I discovered parallels. This, my friends, is about the nightingale, where it comes from, what it means, and what the fuck happened in part 3 of 1941.

Ready? Let's go.

Now, as OP said in her post, s1e3 is important. In the script book, Neil himself says that these flashbacks are where the producers would tell him to cut scenes to save money. They suggested every single one—except for the one he ended up taking out, which was the bookshop opening scene set in 1800. The others are building blocks, you need them to see how their relationship progressed and what kind of important milestones they had.

(side note: author is very miffed that english does not have a separate subjunctive form like german which makes quoting lines way more confusing than it has to be)

The one I want to mention is neither 1941 nor 1967. No, what I want to talk about is 1601. This might be about to get a bit rambly but I will do my best to keep it tidy.

The focus of that flashback is on the Arrangement, yes, but it gives us a lot more information than that.

they both see Shakespeare's plays regularly, maybe even meet in the crowd

Crowley prefers the comedies

Aziraphale does not seem to have a preference, he enjoys the tragedies and presumably the comedies too

there is an oyster woman selling food -> reference to their meeting in Rome when Aziraphale tempted him to try some oysters

Aziraphale reflexively denies their relationship

Crowley might say he is not worried but circles Aziraphale the entire time, keeping watch

they both ask favours of each other and both agree to do them

What stands out to me in relation to what I am about to expand on is the line that Crowley delivers after Aziraphale's little 'buck up'—which Crowley finds adorable btw but that's a post for another time.

"Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety."

Why would he say that? What exactly is prompting this? WHY say that specific line?

At first I thought it might be to tempt Shakespeare because he does commit art theft by just copying that line down, BUT I think there is more to that. So much more, in fact. I am wiggling now because I am very excited about this and my adhd meds are kicking in anyway.

First things first: the line itself.

It appears in Shakespeare's play Antony and Cleopatra, a romantic tragedy, which was first performed in 1607 aka six years after this meeting. Enobarbus is talking about Cleopatra and describing why Antony won't leave her. Her.

Ccrowley uses his—again, who is he even talking about? Hamlet? Shakespeare? Random poetic quote?

No, I think this line is about Aziraphale and it's a code. Right after, the next line from Aziraphale is "What do you want?", meaning that this is their code phrase for 'I have a favour to ask of you'.

Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety

Age will not affect his appearance nor will he ever become boring to Antony. Crowley, who later chooses the name Anthony for himself, tells Aziraphale, an immortal, that he will never age and that he will never grow bored of him.

It's flattery, pure and simple, and it's code at the same time. This establishes the important fact that they might use more of Shakespeare's work as code/already have a system in place (even though he steals Crowley's line for later).

They play their little morality game of back and forth, Aziraphale agrees, Crowley probably manipulates the coin toss, and THEN we find out that the oyster woman is called Juliet.

Why? What is the meaning of that? Why give her a name and that name in particular? Why bring the sexy oysters back into it?

Romeo and Juliet premiered in 1597, so it is safe to assume they have both seen it by 1601, but this is mostly for the audience, not for us-or is it?

Aziraphale gives Crowley puppy eyes until he agrees to make Hamlet popular, and while I don't think Juliet itself is a code word, although it's very interesting that the OYSTER woman is the one with that name (especially adding what we now know about Job), Romeo and Juliet might be.

Yes, the Nightingale song came out in 1940 but the bird has been around for much, much longer, and, as many probably know by now, also shows up in Romeo and Juliet.

This is where I am starting to vibrate at the speed of light because listen to me. Listen.

Crowley is Juliet. Anthony J. Crowley. Antony Juliet Crowley.

(side note: I'm not saying that Crowley chose it based on that—though I am not not saying that—but that it is a clue for us at the audience.)

Why do I think that? In the play, Romeo spends the night with Juliet and then goes to leave as the night begins to end. Juliet tries to stop him and tells him that the birds they are hearing aren't larks, which sing at dawn, but nightingales, which sing at night.

Who is the one always pushing for more? Crowley. He is the one trying to convince Aziraphale it's safe, they're safe to spend time together.

Romeo disagrees with Juliet and says 'I must be gone and live, or stay and die'.

Leave and stay alive, or stay and hell/heaven will punish us. It gets even better though.

We all know how Romeo and Juliet ends: Romeo thinks Juliet is dead, kills himself, Juliet finds him and then kills herself too.

Hey, do you know how Antony and Cleopatra ends?

Antony thinks Cleopatra is dead, kills himself and dies in her arms, then Cleopatra also kills herself—by snake poison; Romeo also died by poison.

The parallels are THERE. They are jumping down our throats! Two tragedies, two sides, several familiar names and phrases, same fear, same ending.

I think by now you can guess how this ties back to 1941.

We do not see how that night ends, but we know it ends. One of them wants to stretch it out, maybe even quotes Romeo and Juliet because look at the setting!

Candlelight, wonderful night they spend together, the threat of Crowley's early demise, and, to quote the play once more, this time Romeo: I have more care to stay than will to go.

Crowley thought it was his last night on earth and went with Aziraphale to his bookshop, to be with him, because he cares more about that than the fact that he will be dragged to hell come morning. Do you remember?

"Expect a legion to come for you first thing tomorrow" THAT is the threat. They have until dawn, just like Romeo and Juliet, which is why she is so desperate for the birds to be nightingales. Fortunately for them, Aziraphale saves the day, BUT there is NO SECURITY. They do not KNOW if a legion will still show up or not. If dawn is a deadline and they will need to fight.

Sure, they improved their chances, but who knows? Maybe they will come for him anyway, it's not like hell is all fair and square.

The best part: it gets even better.

Juliet eventually panics and tells him to go, and Romeo drops a line that huh, sounds oddly familiar, doesn't it?

'More light and light, more dark and dark our woes!'

Remind me, what does Aziraphale say again? Ah, yes. Perhaps there is something to be said for shades of grey.

There is more. Yes, even more. We know the whole rescue relies on a magic trick, a switch. Guess what Juliet yearns for while telling Romeo to go save himself?

Oh, now I would they had changed voices too. While they did not for Romeo and Juliet—they kiss and part—they did for our two. One fabulous switch and we're good.

(side note: Toads? Associated with hell. Larks? Associated with the dawn, yes, but also heaven since Romeo says 'Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads.')

So, this was a whole lot of information, let's see if I can summarize my thoughts.

I believe the nightingale is a code word that has existed even before 1941 and gained a lot of importance over the years. In 1941, the song is added to the meaning and whatever happened between the two that we have not seen yet, it fundamentally changed their relationship. Maybe they kissed, maybe one of them tried to convince the other to prolong the night but they parted on not-great terms.

The nightingale and the song become a symbol of hope, a goal to achieve, another uninterrupted night, maybe, or an uninterrupted life.

When they part in the final fifteen, it's morning. Crowley points at the sky and says "no nightingales", which at that point has several different layers to it.

No nightingales because their night is over, just like with Romeo and Juliet, and please, please allow me to add another detail, because I am frothing at the mouth over this. The scene I quoted, known as balcony scene, do you know what it is preceded by?

A ball.

Star-crossed lovers defying their sides, falling in love at a ball, getting a hurried, wonderful night together but torn apart by danger of punishment, the nightingale as a dream, as a wish for unhurried time together. Family rejection, torn apart by parents, willing to die for each other so they can reunite in death.

No nightingales. The ball, the romance, is over, their dancing is over, heaven is tearing them apart, and Aziraphale returns to heaven while they are both stuck in a pit of misunderstanding and miscommunication, all bound together by fear for each other.

The thing is, Crowley hates tragedies, he never liked the "gloomy ones", and he does not want them to end in one—luckily, this isn't the end. Yes, they kiss and part, but the play keeps going. We have an entire act 3 to fix what Romeo and Juliet couldn't, to ensure that this is a COMEDY, not a tragedy.

Both Antony & Cleopatra and Romeo & Juliet died out of fear, hurried into making bad decisions because they knew what would happen if their sides were to catch up with them.

Crowley and Aziraphale can reunite heaven and hell with love, not death. This is THEIR story and they are writing the ending. No more day and night, no more deadlines, no more hiding and sneaking about, no more fear of larks and sunshine.

Good Omens will end the way it began: In a garden with two no-longer-star-crossed lovers embracing the song of a lark as well as that of the nightingale.

I hope this made sense to everyone who was no present while my mind started to vibrate itself into a puddle because the thing is I can see Neil doing all of this completely on purpose.

Thoughts? Questions? Additions? Come and join me in my insanity and until next time I have a mental breakdown over this show (probably in like two hours).

#alex talks good omens #good omens #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #no nightingales #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #a nightingale sang in berkeley square

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when they get jealous

a/n: this is my istj waiting room activity

notes: yujin is not included due to his age, jiwoong’s is set in the real world (aka he’s an idol), did not proofread

wc | 4.2k

jiwoong

i don’t think jiwoong gets jealous often

it’s just not his first thought when it comes to certain things LOL

but, depending on the situation, he absolutely will get jealous, but not in the way most people do

many people digest jealousy/envy as a big emotion but i don’t think it’s very big for jiwoong

and he knows that his jealousy isn’t something you should have to deal with but he doesn’t want to deal with it either so he’ll do his best to get rid of the issue without you knowing, which means making up creative ways to squash the situation

they all incorporate wherever you are

so let’s say you’re at the mall, you’re waiting for him to get out of a store, and a guy walks up to you and starts chatting you up

jiwoong will walk up to you and smile at whatever guy is flirting with you, acting completely fine

and then he’ll dip down and whisper something into your ear, and it’s usually something super unserious

“there’s a 50% sale at the ice cream shop and you get a fun cup for free”

you’re gone, he’s happy, and whatever guy was chatting you up is completely out of the picture

things are different when it comes to his members though

he always knew you liked kids and was well aware that you often volunteered to help out with kids, and he knew that you tutored high school students throughout university

nevertheless, jiwoong never thought han yujin would be his worst enemy

JIWOONG IS NORMALLY the most patient person you know—he can sit with you in a shop for an hour, watching you debate over two different mugs to buy without voicing one complaint. However, for some reason, watching you cook Yujin’s lunch is the worst thing he’s ever had to experience.

You had insisted on it after finding out he was planning on going to school after how long they’d been promoting, saying that it would be hard for him to go to school without anyone to cook him lunch. Jiwoong insisted that Hanbin probably would’ve, but you brushed him off, saying it wouldn’t take you long.

An hour and a half later, he was still sitting there, watching you cut watermelon into flowers. It was nearly 8 o’clock, and the movie you were going to was due to start at 8:45—meaning you had to leave soon.

“Are you almost done?” he asked, putting his down on the counter. You scoffed, putting the lid onto the last section of Yujin’s lunch box.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, beginning to wrap it up. “You’ve asked three times in the last hour.”

“I’m jealous that you’re spending more time fussing over Yujin’s lunch than hanging out with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen in a long time.”

“You’re jealous over Yujin?” you asked, exasperated, turning around and putting your hands on your hips. “He’s your kid too! You should help out! What father is jealous of their own child?”

zhang hao

there are 2 men in zb1 that don’t get jealous literally ever and hao is one of them

literally how could he be jealous when he’s zhang hao

most of the time, actually, you’re the one getting jealous (which makes sense, because he’s zhang hao)

and he always mocks you for it, which you hate

he’ll say something like “aw, do you think they’re going to steal me away from you?” and you have to resist the urge to punch him in the stomach

so when he actually gets jealous it is sooooo much fun for you

you milk it to no end. it is an opportunity you CANNOT waste

most of the time, it happens at his fancy violinist events, where you meet other people who are just as talented and impressive as him (and sometimes, they’re pretty attractive, too)

when he’s jealous, he sticks to your side and gets a little bit mean, especially towards whoever he’s jealous of

gets super touchy too

has a hand around your waist and drags you around with him just to make sure everyone gets the big picture

one day, he notices you and hanbin have been hanging out a lot all of a sudden, and it makes him really, really jealous

mostly because he can’t do his little flaunt routine, because he’s flaunted you to him enough

and then you realize he’s jealous that you and hanbin have been spending a lot of time together planning his birthday party

so obviously you capitalize on it immediately

it backfires on you

HAO WASN’T TRYING to be dramatic, but when he swung the door to Hanbin’s apartment open, having dug the spare key out from under the mat, he couldn’t help but march in like a soldier going to war.

You and Hanbin were sitting at his dining table, both of your laptops open. You had a cup of tea on the table, too, in a mug Hao knew he’d gifted Hanbin for his birthday a couple of years back.

“You let him make you tea?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air like he was in some sort of drama. Both you and Hanbin stared at him in a mix of shock and confusion, wondering what in the world had caused him to barge in like that. Sure, you were beginning to pick up the fact that he was jealous of your business meetings with his best friend, but you weren’t exactly aware of how far you’d let it progress.

“Well, I made the tea—”

“You know where he keeps his tea?” he cut you off, staring at you while tapping his foot on the ground. “I am sick of this. How am I being left out by my partner and my best friend? What did I do to deserve this?”

“I think you’re getting the wrong idea,” Hanbin said, slowly closing his laptop. “We aren’t hanging out, per se, so we aren’t exactly leaving you out.”

“Then why have you spent hours upon hours together over the past week?”

You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to stop from laughing. “Hao, please be serious. What’s next week?”

His cheeks turned bright red, and you wished you could’ve got his big outburst on video.

hanbin

i am a believer that hanbin get sooo jealous (have you seen him glare at people's interaction with hao LOL)

he’s like the nicest guy on earth so there has to be one negative emotion that he feels

and it’s quite literally only over his loved ones, nothing else

will get jealous if people spend too much time with hao

will get even more jealous if people steal your attention away from him

he doesn’t even get jealous over things he should be getting jealous over, it’s things he hallucinates

“that guy stared at you a little too weirdly…”

“he was just our waiter?”

“still he was too friendly…i got bad vibes”

when hanbin gets jealous, though, it’s not very serious and never causes a problem between you two

he might hold your hand a little tighter or not be very fond of leaving you alone, but otherwise it’s not an issue

there are instances where his jealousy can get serious, and most of the time it’s pretty warranted (and this is when hanbin leans towards protective)

you’ll be watching one of his performances among a bunch of his peers and someone will get a little too touchy with you

and dancers are very hot so he might get a little insecure too

he will stomp over to you, sweaty and tired, and drag you away without saying a word to whoever was chatting you up

other than that his jealousy is kind of cute

hanbin doesn’t view any of the boys as enemies but sometimes matthew can be super cute

and while he considers matthew one of his best friends sometimes he forgets that matthew is just like that and isn’t trying to woo you

matthew, however, is well versed in the art that is hanbinism and is immune to it

YOU KNOW HANBIN like the back of your hand. He’s sweet, pretty, and enjoys being around the people he loves. And, you know for a fact Matthew is one of the people he loves. Nevertheless, when he skips up to you two with a white rose he picked, Taerae in tow, you can practically see a vein pop out of Hanbin’s head.

“Look at how pretty this is!” he smiled, and you nodded, agreeing with him. “Taerae and I found a bush of them, and I figured I’d pick one to give to you.”

You hear Hanbin scoff, and, feeling panic rush up your throat, you turn to him with horror flowing through you. The look in his eyes is dangerous, and a sort of shallow smile appears on his face—you don’t like it one bit. You turn back to Matthew, who seems completely unphased, and instead keeps talking.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to Hanbin. He stares at it, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“I thought you were giving it to [First]?”

“Huh? That would be weird,” Matthew replies, tilting his head. You hear Taerae begin to laugh, likely at Hanbin, and you have to hold back a little chuckle as well. “Wouldn’t you be the one to give a rose to them? Anyway, here you go.”

Hanbin, dumbfounded, takes the rose from Matthew’s hand, and he and Taerae disappear off into the distance.

matthew

matthew is #2 of men in zb1 who don’t get jealous often

literally doesn’t have the brain capacity for it

he’s like a universal friend, and universal friends don’t get jealous of anybody, nor do they distrust their significant others

a more appropriate word to use would be uncomfortable

at least that’s what matthew says when he gets jealous LOL

he genuinely doesn’t think he feels jealous because he doesn’t have any worry that whoever is talking to you is going to “steal” you away from him, but he certainly doesn’t appreciate anybody hardcore flirting with you

he can handle a “you’re so pretty” or an “i love your outfit” but if someone is persisting and he can tell you’re uncomfortable (both factors have to be present, or he’ll just let you handle it yourself) he will do his best to shut it down

but in the matthew way

so he walks over to you with a big smile on his face and starts talking to you like he normally would

“hey, babe, i lost you for a second”

whoever’s talking to you literally can’t keep going because of how nice matthew is

“oh, who’s this? it’s nice to meet you! i’m [first]’s boyfriend, matthew”

they’re gone within 2 minutes and matthew is feeling successful

he’ll probably give you a kiss on the cheek afterwards just to hammer home his point

he will, however, admit that he gets jealous of the other members lol

it’s mostly because he considers them his friends, though, so the idea that you’d be into one of them is scary to him

as a result, he gets a little wary when he stumbles upon you chatting with jiwoong at a party

BEFORE MATTHEW LEFT to go get a drink, you were sitting on the couch, playing a game on your phone. He planned to tell you that you could leave after he finished the drink, but when he returned, Jiwoong was sitting across from you, speaking with you.

The smile on your face was genuine, and you seemed overjoyed that you weren’t bored anymore. And, subconsciously, Matthew took it as you being happy that Jiwoong was talking to you, and not because you were glad you wouldn’t have to drag Matthew away from his friends anymore (which was the truth).

He sat back down next to you, sitting on the edge of the seat and putting his cup down on the coffee table. You smiled at him, and Jiwoong said his hellos, to which Matthew replied less than enthusiastically.

“We were just chatting about the new art exhibit that opened up at the museum. You know, the one we went to last week?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said, taking a long sip of the drink. You raised an eyebrow, finally picking up that Matthew was feeling a bit jealous. “You planning on going again, or something?”

“Nope,” Jiwoong cut in, leaning back in his chair. “Actually, [First] was just talking about how much she enjoyed going with you, as you seemed to like it a lot. She said your eyes were sparkling the entire time.”

Matthew shut up quick after that, and you didn’t mention it ever again.

taerae

taerae’s jealousy is silent

you won’t know he’s jealous until well after the event has occurred

he might bring it up in passing weeks later and you’re absolutely dumbfounded

mostly because you had no clue

“you were jealous?”

“yeah, he kept staring at your lips and was getting super touchy with you. how would i not be jealous?”

you think about the interaction for hours afterward, you skim through all the memories, and you cannot figure out where he conveyed he was jealous

he’s so good at masking any negative emotion that when you manage to notice his jealousy it’s almost a little bit scary

you’ll be talking with someone, it doesn’t matter who, and you’ll look over at him for a second and notice this weird look in his eyes

and then you’ll be hyperaware of how everything he says has this sharp edge to it

little jabs that neither you or whoever you’re talking to would be able to pick up unless they were actively looking for hostility

lowkey it’s kind of attractive LOL

taerae’s usually the picture of “kind” so seeing him go into a lockdown mode is a bit fun for you, even if it’s barely noticeable

after the event that made him jealous he’s super touchy with you which is also fun for you

because taerae gives gooood hugs and is comfortable to lay on

so, long story short, if he’s ever jealous of the boys you don’t know until afterward

sometimes even weeks after the fact

and obviously when you were fawning over zhang hao after his violin recital, which taerae had taken you to, you weren’t exactly aware of the way he was staring at hao

WHEN TAERAE GRABS your hand about a minute into your drive, lacing all of your fingers together and pulling your hand onto his lap, your jaw drops. You turn to look at him with shock on your face, trying to find the words to say. “No way,” you gasped, putting your other hand over your mouth. 

He looks over at you for a brief second, confused as to why you’re suddenly making such a big deal that he was holding your hand. “What? I don’t understand.”

“You were jealous? Of Hao?” you exclaimed, letting your hand drop from your mouth. “Why? I mean, he did well, did he not? Was I too complimentary? Do I need to reel it back next time?”

“What? No, you were just being nice. Where did you get the idea I was jealous?”

“You say that, but in a month and a half, you’re going to be like, ‘You know what made me super jealous?’ and then you’re going to drop three bombs on me,” you replied. “And this is going to be included. So, just say it now, so we can get it over with.”

Taerae blinked a couple of times, tightening his grip on your hand. “Okay, maybe I was a little jealous—”

You wrenched your hand away from his, clapping excitedly. “Oh, I’m a genius! I have a degree in Taeraeology now, seriously.”

“What in the world is Taeraeology?”

ricky

when ricky gets jealous it’s like not a competition

he just shuts the situation down

i mean he’s so tall and so gorgeous that anybody who tries anything with you is immediately so intimidated the moment he does anything, he barely even has to talk

he literally has a neck tattoo like that’s terrifying

as a result he does not have the time to get seriously jealous because anyone who’s flirting with you is sprinting away the moment they lay eyes on him approaching you

most of the time people don’t even try anything anyway because they see you with him before you’re separated

for the few that are willing to stand up to ricky, it’s pretty funny for you to watch

“[first], who’s this?” and you watch the competitor cartoon-gulp right in front of you

they maybe last about 15 seconds before they bid you goodbye out of pure intimidation like good for you ricky

if it’s one of the days where he looks incredibly cute and soft (you know what i’m talking about) things tend to go south because ricky is awkward and his strong suit is rbf

at which point you end up having to be the one to be like “okay, me and my boyfriend are going to head out now!” LOL

among the jebis the only one ricky is going to get jealous of is gyuvin and that’s because they’re the same age and very close

he knows gyuvin will never make a move on you but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous when gyuvin is taking up too much of your attention

and he’ll straight up tell him to fuck off too LOL

riyangis i get you

GYUVIN LOOKS LIKE he’s about to burst into laughter as Ricky stands next to you, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He never takes Ricky’s jealousy seriously, which you understand why, given the fact that they’re best friends, and he has absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.

“You should go home now,” Ricky insists, motioning towards the front door. “I think we’ve hung out for long enough today.”

It was partially your fault for introducing a topic Ricky wasn’t versed in, but Gyuvin was the only other person you knew had watched the show you were watching, and you were itching to talk about it with somebody who understood. But, you’d pushed it too far, and he’d gotten a bit upset that you were focusing on Gyuvin when he had barged into your date.

“Aw, but [First] is my friend, too.”

“And, if we were both drowning, she’d choose me over you. What’s your point?”

Gyuvin burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as he wobbled towards the door. You held back your laughter as best you could, nearly losing it as Gyuvin struggled to put on the pair of bright yellow Crocs he decided to wear when he walked over. He opened the door and slammed it shut, yet you could still hear him laughing outside.

Then, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You laughed so hard that you also had to hold your stomach, and Ricky marched away from you, ignoring the halfassed apologies that fell from your lips.

gyuvin

gyuvin isn’t usually a jealous guy but he can get jealous, as opposed to hao and matthew who virtually never get jealous

when he gets jealous though it’s somewhat upsetting

it usually means something happened that wounded his pride or made him feel insecure, which you don’t enjoy obviously

so 99.9% of the time, if gyuvin is jealous, it’s because one of the members did something to/with you that he wasn’t super okay with

it’s never anything minute, like one of them liking an instagram post or something stupid, rather something happening under his nose

he loves and respects them a lot so the idea that they did something with his s/o without him knowing makes him super duper unhappy

and then he’ll start to think that there’s something they have that he didn’t, so he gets a bit insecure, too

but he absolutely will convince himself it’s not a big deal so then he’s just in an extra bad mood for the rest of the day

you usually have to squeeze whatever’s wrong out of him and, when you manage to, you feel really bad

because usually whatever happened to upset him was something you thought you’d addressed with him and/or thought he knew about

like ricky, he gets most jealous over things that happen between you and ricky

because you’re all close in age and gyuvin and ricky spend all of their time together, you’re obviously friends with him too

and, in ricky’s seasonal instagram wrap up post, he notices a selfie of you two in what he thinks was a hangout you had together without him knowing based on the background

it ruins his day so fast :( but you make sure to patch up the misunderstanding

GYUVIN HATES THE WAY HE FEELS as he gears up to speak, twiddling his thumbs while you sit across from him at the table, a frown painting your face. He doesn’t like it when you look sad, and he doesn’t like feeling this way or addressing that he feels it. So, when the time comes where he has to talk about it, it eats him up from the inside out.

“Did you hang out with Ricky? Without me?”

You immediately furrow your eyebrows, as if you’re confused. “Not that I know of? I barely even text Ricky outside of the group chat the three of us have. Where’d you get that idea?”

Embarrassed, Gyuvin decides to pull up the post, turning his phone to face you. You take it from his hands, bringing it closer to your face so that you can get a better look at it. Then, recognition floods your features, and your frown turns into a smile. “That was when we roadtripped to the beach. Not pictured here are you and Taerae, who were getting us coffee.”

Gyuvin snatches the phone back, feeling even more embarrassed. He zooms in on the background parts, ignoring you and Ricky, quickly realizing that the filter Ricky put on the picture made the water look much bluer than it actually had been, leading him to believe you’d gone on your own separate beach trip. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Gyuvin smiled crookedly.

“My bad.”

gunwook

i actually struggled with this

on one hand i don’t think gunwook would get jealous easily

he’s a very reasonable boyfriend and has quite literally never wronged you

on the other hand i do think he would get jealous somewhat frequently

in the same way as taerae, it’s very quiet jealousy, but you will literally never know with him

he won’t ever bring it up after it happens and will just. move on

he also might get a little snarky with whoever approached you afterwards, but never when you’re around, so you are none the wiser

if you find out gunwook got jealous, you are finding out from other people, which you think is absolutely insane

one day you’ll be like cordially chatting with gyuvin and he’ll bring up this one time gunwook got super mega jealous over one of your guy friends and how it haunted him for months and you’re like ??? what

gyuvin is like you DIDN’T know? and then you learn about every single time gunwook has gotten jealous and then told him + yujin + ricky about it

apparently it was so obvious to the boys that hanbin literally asked him about it

you’re flabbergasted 

so then you approach gunwook like “wtf is this?” and he’s like

“oh yeah”

what do you mean OH YEAH?

you’re actually so shocked

gunwook isn’t the type to get jealous of the boys though like that just straight up won’t happen

doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, how much time you spend with them, etc

he knows they’d never pull something with you ever so you could literally go on a remote vacation to the amazon rainforest with NO cell service with like hanbin and he wouldn’t give a shit

TAERAE WAS BUSY, which meant you’d dragged Hanbin along with you to go shopping for Christmas presents for the boys. You’d been dating Gunwook long enough that you felt like it was a good way to show gratitude for them, and Hanbin agreed to take you to the mall to get the gifts.

Of course, you couldn’t take Gunwook, because you were planning on buying a good chunk of his gift, too, which meant you hadn’t told him where you were going. So, when he called, you were somewhat apprehensive to pick up.

Hanbin, on the other hand, looked terrified.

“Can I come over? I’m bored,” he asked, and you held back the urge to laugh as you stared at Hanbin, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“I’m Christmas-present shopping with Hanbin, actually. Sorry.”

Hanbin’s jaw dropped, likely at the fact that you just came right out with it, but you weren’t worried in the slightest. “Oh, okay. That’s cool. Have fun. Tell Hanbin I said hello.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

He hung up, and Hanbin’s jaw dropped farther. “He just…doesn’t care? Like at all?”

You gave him an inquisitive look, as if you didn’t understand what he was implying. “Is he supposed to?"

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 scenarios #zb1 reactions #zb1 fluff #zb1 angst #zb1 headcanons #jiwoong x reader #zhang hao x reader #hanbin x reader #sung hanbin x reader #seok matthew x reader #taerae x reader #ricky x reader #gyuvin x reader #gunwook x reader #req

[clairedaring]

if you're hoping for joe 2.0 to get his 'revenge' in the second half of the series...

warning: mild novel spoilers (but also not really because i'm just discussing things that have been shown in the trailer)

i really think you should either drop the series or give up the hopes of a satisfying makjang revenge storyline in my stand-in instead of setting yourself up for disappointment. because that simply isn't the story that my stand-in is trying to tell.

so what is my stand-in about really?

well, for me i think its a romance tragicomedy drama about an idiotic scum male lead losing the person he loves most because of his own arrogance and refusal to listen to his heart and the series of unfortunate events that happened consequently for our protagonist who was living a peaceful and quiet life as a stunt actor before the scum male lead entered his life.

joe 2.0 and his approach to life

i've mentioned it twice now that one of my favorite traits of joe/zhou xiang is that kindness in his strength where even if he can be choose to be mean or cruel, he simply doesn't because he has such a soft heart and he's weak to see others in pain (joe is my fellow enfp people pleaser okay) (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ which is why even in his 2.0 life, you won't get to see joe turning 180 degree and going around to hurt everyone who's ever hurt him like it's some makjang kdrama.

and while that seems like it could be fun, i think the reason why i loved professional body double (my stand-in novel) so much in the first place is because that very distinction between joe and other rebirth/second chance at life protagonists that you often see in revenge kdramas/cdramas/thai lakorns.

logically, if my stand-in was a 24-episode one31 lakorn/thai soap opera, joe would be full of hatred and burning rage after his rebirth and started his intricated revenge plot while still falling in love with ming whom he should hate the most.

and yet he isn't (or at least it seems to me so far).

if you read the lyrics 'Die For You' - the opening ost of my stand-in, i think you can have a good guess of what the second half of the story will be like.

Even running away to death can't help. If my heart had chosen to stop at you I'll have to surrender with the confusion I feel. To come back to the same old place. Even if I have to die, disappear and then be reborn But the love is still buried deep inside, even if it's been shattered into pieces Even if my life ends, I can't stop my heart from calling out to you Because this whole body, life, spirit It is yours only, for all eternity.

and even from the trailer of my stand-in, you can tell that joe 2.0 has a lot of internal conflicting feelings about whether he could trust ming again after the betrayal he faced in his 1.0 life. and i feel like essentially the journey of ming proving to joe 2.0 that he really does love joe is very much the central plot in the second half part of the story.

so i'd like to take this part to note how well the series has done to adapt the novel so far. i think a good adapted change they've made is this early realization of feelings for ming in the joe 1.0 timeline. i do think the novel made him realized his feelings a little bit later but my stand-in did well to show within ep.3 what happiness could have looked like for joe 1.0 and ming and i think it rationalizes a bit more more for why joe 2.0 would still have feelings for ming 'buried deep inside' even when he's been badly hurt the first time around. and reading the story i've always found it interesting that they took this route to focus on the re-entangled complex relationship between mingjoe rather than going for a joe-centric revenge makjang plot (i swear if this was your typical thai lakorn, joe would seduce ming while planning to take down his whole family or something).

of course, that's not to dismiss that there's a lot of character growth for joe in the second half of the story, especially in his building of self-confidence, self-worth, the ability to put himself first and the fight for his own happiness above all. but like i've mentioned above, his growth journey is not at the expense of a drastic personality change in regards to the kind hearted joe we saw in his 1.0 life. instead, we get kind hearted joe 2.0 who quickly adapts to his new life and attempts to start anew while conflicted feelings resurface for him as he is pulled back into the relationships he once had.

all in all, my stand-in is still at the heart of it, a love story. perhaps, a dark romance as my friend @dragonsandphoenix would call it, but a romance nonetheless. i think that is what also makes professional body double such a compelling read too, because the progression in the feelings and complex emotions of these characters are so tightly written that it's convincing enough for me (maybe not for others though) to believe that yan ming xiu has/will always love zhou xiang (to the point ymx would probably eliminate anyone else who dared to steal zx from him). obsessive love? yes. do they both need therapy? probably. yet i still believe in their happy ending? of course.

final note/disclaimer: then again, this is just my PERSONAL opinions based on the novel and up til 3 episodes of my stand-in (which seems to be very faithful to the novel so far), who knows maybe they can anger novel fans and adapt it completely differently later on (something i sure hope they don't but we'll seeeee) ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

#my stand in #my stand in the series #my stand-in #professional body double #my stand in novel spoilers #msi thoughts #poom phuripan #up poompat #claire opens up her goddamn mouth

[icequeenbae]

Translucence (m) | Astro LDM

Pairing: Cha Eunwoo x Reader (Lee Dongmin x Reader)

A Jinjin cameo? hehe

Established Relationship, slice of life, fluff, PWP, smut

Warnings: glass bathroom you heard me lol, explicit content, unprotected sex, this is smut with minimal plot (it’s becoming my style), a sprinkle of voyeurism, maybe a noona kink, maybe Dongmin's splendid ass is mentioned more than once

Word Count: ~4.2k

Author’s Note: Heyyy~ Finally posting my first ASTRO fic! This has been waiting to be released for a while now, but the timing wasn’t working out… But now that it’s done, I hope that you enjoy this little story! Let me know what you think~ And a special thank you to the lovely @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over my story, I really loved your comments, Jess <3

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Summary: It’s your first short vacation with Dongmin since you started dating, and you get a chance to stay at an extremely fancy hotel in Jeju. The ocean-view suite is perfect, yet there’s a small inconvenience… or a genius design?

Network tags: @superm-net  @exo-writers-net  @bbh-net  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety ​

It was your first time taking a vacation together.

With the type of hectic schedule Dongmin had to maintain, you barely managed to book the hotel of your dreams for this weekend, which was actually your one-year anniversary. Two days was all you had, and you planned to enjoy them to the fullest, start to finish.

Which was why you’d surprised your boyfriend by appearing clad in a white sundress with a stylish wide brim hat to match. It was a simple feminine look, yet it set the mood from the start.

‘Wow, I’m suddenly looking forward to our flight…’ He smiled at you softly before murmuring, ‘You look beautiful.’

Avoiding his eyes timidly, you chewed on your lip to contain a silly grin. Dongmin took the handle of your suitcase to put it away in the trunk of the car.

‘Let’s get going, we have to be at the airport in thirty,’ Jinwoo’s voice startled you as the window on the driver’s side rolled down. ‘You’ll have a whole hour to exchange your lovey-dovey stares on the plane, children.’

‘Hyung…’ Dongmin mumbled in embarrassment, and you coughed, sliding into the backseat while your boyfriend’s palm hovered above your head protectively.

‘I’m older than you, Jinwoo-yah,’ you scolded, and he hummed in response.

‘Barely!’ He glanced in the rearview mirror, meeting your eyes, and added. ‘Noona.’

You shook your head in disapproval, and turned to Dongmin, who settled in the backseat with you and moved to buckle you up.

‘I can do it! Let’s not make Jinwoo cringe.’

‘Why would he cringe…’ Your boyfriend pouted, watching you tug at the seatbelt.

‘I’m fine unless you start the funny business,’ the leader announced nonchalantly from the front seat.

‘Have you ever caught us doing anything?’ You huffed, and the car was silent for a few long seconds. ‘Have you??’

‘Does hearing count?’ He asked, and your boyfriend’s eyes almost bulged out of his head.

‘Shut up,’ you laughed nervously, only half-assured that it was a joke.

‘It’s actually true. It was when we all stayed at the dorm for a sleepover. You rustle like mice,’ Jinwoo recalled.

‘What?? We weren’t doing anything fu-’

Dongmin’s hand suddenly squeezed your thigh, putting a stop to your protesting speech.

‘Please, just… change the subject, noona.’

~

Teasing you and Dongmin was Astro members’ favorite pastime, and you noticed from the very beginning. They simply loved making him a flustered mess. Not that you couldn’t relate – the face genius looked almost unbearably cute when embarrassed. You weren’t a stranger to teasing him yourself, just to get your fix of his adorable shy smile and his extensive nagging about how you never let him breathe.

In fact, he loved to nag. It was his way of showing affection.

‘Ah, noona… Your dress is so revealing,’ he kept whining while you were on the plane. ‘D’you know how active the sun is in Jeju? Did you apply the sunscreen thoroughly?’

‘Yes. But you can reapply it if you want an excuse to touch my chest,’ you murmured, making him flush red and lower his voice to a scandalized whisper.

‘That’s not what I meant-’

‘I’m sure it isn’t.’ You hummed, laying your head on his shoulder. ‘But I’d still let you.’

The flight from Seoul to Jeju Island was rather quick, about one hour in the air. And it seemed to be over even faster since you were too busy whispering, giggling like lovestruck teenagers, and ‘oh’-ing in excitement as you looked out the illuminator.

Going on a trip with your boyfriend was something you’d been dreaming of for months now, so your mood was through the roof from the moment you woke up. It kept gradually increasing while you were on your way to the dream destination, and reached its peak when Dongmin rented a car to drive the two of you to the hotel.

‘If anything is better than this view,’ you turned away from the window to look at your boyfriend’s relaxed form. ‘It’s probably this.’

‘What?’ He glanced at you, not catching your meaning.

‘You.’

He huffed, scolding you for being cheesy.

‘What, I’ve told you this before! You look most handsome either when you’re driving or when your hair gets wet.’

‘I shall try driving with wet hair someday. Will that make you explode?’

‘Is that your goal?’ You asked, tracing your index finger down the side of his neck, which made him squirm.

‘Stop it, you know I’m ticklish…’

‘You’re not ticklish, you’re sensitive.’ You corrected, running the pads of your fingers over his skin again to make him shudder. ‘So, who’s exploding now?’

He gave you a reproachful look, and you chuckled, pinching his cheek to annoy him further.

‘Why do you have to be so shameless, noona…’

‘Don’t you love that about me?’ You asked playfully.

‘I do,’ he was quick to admit. ‘I love everything about you.’

Caught off guard by his sudden confession, you fell silent. Dongmin didn’t say things like this often, he was a bit reserved about his feelings. You actually recalled that he’d only said ‘the three words’ twice in the span of your relationship. And on one of those occasions he was actually drunk, so… yeah. He was strangely tight-lipped about it for the romantic that he was.

But you’d learned to accept it. You wouldn’t push him to do something he didn’t want to or wasn’t ready to do. So, you just said nothing before your hotel was finally visible.

‘This is great, we can just drop everything and head out to the beach! I’m living for this weather,’ you said, clapping your hands in excitement.

Dongmin nodded in agreement.

As expected, the hotel was splendorous. You noticed that while your boyfriend was checking you in. Taking those few minutes to look around, you found yourself ogling the crystal-clear glass constructions that separated the lobby and the waiting area. The outer wall was also steel and glass, so you could enjoy the beautiful landscapes of Jeju even from there.

‘Let’s go,’ a low voice called, and you followed the tall figure to the elevator.

You really wanted to give him a back hug as he pressed the button, but decided to at least wait until you were on your floor.

Dongmin took your suitcase, which made you pout, unable to hold his hand.

‘I think it’s here,’ he guided you to the door and used the card to open it. ‘After you.’

And there went your plan to give him a back hug. Up in flames.

You sighed and stepped into the room.

‘Oh!’ You exclaimed, rushing to get rid of your outdoor shoes in favor of slippers. ‘Let’s check the view! Come on!’

Surprised by your eagerness, your boyfriend shook his footwear off as well, reaching out his hand to allow you to tug him towards the balcony.

‘Oh my god, this is even better than I expected!’ You squealed, almost jumping in excitement, and squeezed his palm. ‘My hands are itching to take pictures! Come on, lean on this railing.’

Knowing better than to argue with you, he did exactly as he was told, and posed for you.

‘Ah, so handsome,’ you kept repeating, while preserving this moment in the form of a photograph.

Dongmin lost his patience in about a minute, pulling you closer to his body.

‘Are you interested in the view or in spending time with me?’

‘I see you every other day, and it’s my first time in Jeju, of course I’m interested in the view!’ You exclaimed. ‘Especially when you’re making it even better.’

He allowed you to kiss away his pout, and held you close for a selfie.

‘No, my head looks too big like this!’

You jumped in place to reach the phone, because your partner refused to take likable pictures.

‘I got it, I got it,’ he assured you, angling it to make the two of you look disproportionate again.

When you pinched him angrily, he laughed in the cheekiest way possible, begging for mercy instantly.

At least then you’d managed to finally take presentable photos.

Leaving you to admire the ocean some more, Dongmin headed back inside to unpack your belongings. You needed to change into your swimsuits if you wanted to enjoy the rest of the day on the beach.

‘Uh- noona?’

‘Mhm?’

‘Did you… see that?’

His voice sounded confused, so you followed it back into the room.

‘See wha- Omo! Is this..?’

You turned to your boyfriend, who denied you eye contact.

‘Glass bathroom.’ He noted blankly, without showing what his actual feelings about it were.

Was he shy? Anxious? Excited? Uncomfortable? You couldn’t decipher his expression for the life of you.

‘Yeah,’ you agreed.

It was a simple yet exquisite design, no one could argue that it looked good. But the problem was that the bathroom here had no wall separating it from the main bedroom space. Which could only mean…

‘Well, I’m sure we’ll manage,’ you shrugged, walking past Dongmin to find your change of clothes. ‘Get your swimwear out while I change. And don’t peek!’

He grumbled under his breath and you snickered faintly. Damn, you were going to have to face the bathroom issue at some point today. And you should mentally prepare.

It wasn’t on your mind for long though.

As soon as you hit the beach… The beautiful clear sky, the warm sand under your bare feet, the lagoon blue water – all of it occupied your head and made you forget all of the possible inconveniences.

‘Don’t swim away,’ Dongmin nagged, stretching out his arms to reach you.

‘Why, scared of going in deep water?’ You teased him, splashing him lightly with your foot.

‘Noona,’ he sulked, and you allowed the waves to push you towards your boyfriend.

As soon as you were within his reach again, he pulled you closer to his body, not caring too much about the spectators.

‘What now, giant baby?’

‘Don’t call me that,’ Dongmin murmured, and you instantly knew he wanted a kiss.

‘There’s too many people, Min-ah,’ you responded, placing your palm on his chest, covered by the soaked white fabric of his tee.

‘Just once,’ he badgered, stepping closer to you.

Of course, his feet were still grounded where you were floating.

‘Why should I?’ You feigned a complaining tone, glancing at his plump lips.

‘Because.’

Dongmin’s hands seized you by the waist, and your forearms prickled with goosebumps.

Staying still while he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, you’d allowed him to steal this quick kiss before swimming away again.

You had literally spent all day in the water, taking short breaks to let your wrinkled skin get back to normal. And reapply sunscreen again, of course, with your boyfriend being a total worrywart.

‘I don’t want you to get sunburnt. Your skin is so fair and delicate, it’s important to make sure it’s protected. Did you know getting sunburned increases your chances of skin cancer?’

A worrywart and a smartass.

It was hard to be mad at his smart (and round) ass though, when he had brilliant ideas like tonight. Dongmin had suggested ordering a fancy dinner to your room and having it on your balcony to enjoy the view.

‘Wah, the sunset is perfect today,’ you said.

‘Your dress goes well with it. Very chic and minimalistic.’ His eyes followed the curve of your waist down to your thigh.

‘I’ve had it forever, but I have no clue where else to wear a red silk gown.’

‘Don’t.’ Dongmin’s cheeks and lips were both red from the wine. ‘Only wear it for me, noona.’

Chuckling, you rose from your seat and stepped closer to your boyfriend. Using just your index finger, you tipped his head up to meet his eyes, and then you put your right knee onto his chair, right between his thighs.

‘Are you telling me what to do now, aegi?’ You asked, enjoying the sensation of his gentle fingers ghosting over your thighs.

‘It’s your decision, but why would you deny me this request?’ His hand became more confident, creeping up your bare skin now. ‘Are you hungry for someone else’s attention?’

‘How drunk are you, Dongmin-ah?’ You asked, brushing your lips against his. ‘Because it seems like you could do something right here, where people might see us.’

Straightening up, you smiled angelically at him.

‘We need to shower and cool off. I’m pretty sure I have sand where it shouldn’t be.’

It was obvious that he was disappointed, but the night was young, and to fully enjoy the experience you had to sober up a little. But it was nothing a quick shower couldn’t fix.

‘You go first, I’ll get rid of the dishes. Don’t argue,’ you cut him off, nodding at the entrance to your room. ‘Go.’

It took you only a few minutes to tidy up, so when you walked in Dongmin was just starting out. The water was on, and he was in front of the glass door, almost ready to step in.

The realization hit you right then. You were going to see all of it. And you didn’t hate the idea.

You’d watched, as if in slow motion, how your boyfriend shoved his underwear down, revealing his plump butt, and got into the bath. Feeling no shame whatsoever, you stood your ground, staring at his bare back.

The water hit his body, languidly running down his smooth skin like a dozen forest streams. From where you were standing you could see the enticing flex of his muscles and the breathtaking curve of his waist. As he leaned in to wet his hair, you pressed a palm to your mouth. This slight voyeurism was making you quite… hot. And bothered.

Swallowing hard, you took a step towards him. You were a bit uneasy with the thought of how he might react. At least you’d hoped that he wouldn’t consider you a complete pervert. But you couldn’t resist the obvious temptation; it was most likely what this bathroom was built for. After all, you still owed him a back hug in your mind from earlier… Surely, he wouldn’t mind that you decided to give it to him now, you thought.

Easily sliding your dress and underwear off, you stopped in front of the glass that was getting foggy already.

‘Dongmin-ah,’ you called, opening the glass door to join him. ‘Noona doesn’t have to wait, does she?’

There was no way you could get a coherent response to your question as your hands wrapped around him and your cheek pressed to his shoulder blade. You felt him freeze for a moment, probably startled by your actions, and then he sighed under his breath.

‘What are you up to now? I thought you wanted me to cool off.’

‘Did you now?’ You hummed, pressing a quick succession of kisses along his spine. ‘Would you like me to stop?’

He pressed his palm to the wall in order to maintain his balance under the attack of your tantalizing hands.

‘No.’

Snaking your hand down to cup his balls, you smiled at his gasp of surprise.

‘That’s what I thought.’

With your body pressed so tightly to his, you didn’t even think twice before grinding on his ass and urging him to moan out loud as your fingers wrapped around his semi-hard penis.

‘Noona…’ He gritted, glutes flexing against your pelvis impatiently. ‘What are you doing…’

‘You don’t like it?’

Dongmin glanced at you over his shoulder before turning to face you. His hands gripped your sides and pushed you into him.

‘Were you watching me this entire time?’ He scolded in his low, velvety voice.

‘It was just a couple minutes,’ you defended weakly and wrapped your arms around his neck, ready to purr as his palms stroked up and down your back.

‘I see.’

You stood like that for a few moments, soaking in the warmth of your entangled bodies while the water splashed you from the side.

‘Didn’t you mention having sand in places it shouldn’t be?’ He murmured, hands dipping lower to squeeze your ass. ‘Want some help with that?’

‘How naughty,’ you snickered, messing up his wet hair even further. ‘Would you rather help me clean up, or...?’

‘Or.’

He responded in a heartbeat, gripping you tight before lifting you up to settle you in the bathroom wall niche.

‘But I can always do both,’ he said, readjusting the shower head to splash you with water again.

You squealed and dragged him in the line of fire as well. Inevitably in ten seconds you were both properly soaked.

‘There was no need to get my hair wet. You look sexy like this, and I look like I need to use a hairdryer real bad.’

He ignored your complaints, leaning close and nearly grazing your lips. With your eyes shut, you waited a few seconds but nothing happened.

‘Were you expecting a kiss?’ He grinned in your face, eyes crinkling in mischief. ‘Aw, what a tiny baby…’

Recalling your earlier interactions in the water, you rolled your eyes at him.

‘So, this is your revenge?’ You asked, not resisting as he wrapped your legs around his waist to move even closer. ‘I don’t find it fair since I did let you kiss me. In public.’

He huffed in response to your statement.

‘You call that a kiss?’

Dongmin’s lips suddenly found yours, and you couldn’t avoid the contact. Tilting your head back you hit the tiled surface, but, thankfully, your boyfriend could predict this move. His palm on the back of your head cushioned the hit, and you could only squeak in surprise, parting your lips invitingly.

He wasn’t the type to waste an opportunity like that. And once Dongmin’s tongue was in your mouth, there was no point in fighting him. Your partner was a little too good at French kissing, and you could easily admit to being hopelessly weak to his talent. He was also a toucher, so whenever a makeout session started, his hands would be all over you.

Moaning as he squeezed your breast gently, you pushed against his chest to break the kiss. Your lips were moist, and you were sure it wasn’t because of the water still running, and you licked them in a failed attempt to gather your thoughts together. Dongmin used your momentary struggle to tease you.

‘That is what I call a kiss, noona. You know this.’

You gulped, trying to think of a good comeback. At this point, you really just wanted to surrender. But him being smug about it was an obstacle: you had no intention of pleasing his ego with instant capitulation.

Grabbing a handful of his hair, you pulled hard. His head whipped back, and you didn’t think twice before latching onto his neck hungrily.

Dongmin’s grunt was the single sexiest thing in the entire situation, not even the sight of his broad shoulders that you were holding onto right now or his curvaceous butt that you loved so much could compete with the sound he produced. It was both surprised and pained, loud and husky with pleasure. You could tell he was conflicted about it just from the way his fingers dug into the skin of your sides, almost scratching at your ribcage, while his cock twitched, pressed between your bodies. He needed to get you off of himself but did he want to?

Pulling away from his flushed neck, you tugged at his hair again just to hear him groan beautifully before he used his strength to tear your hand away from his hair.

‘Noona. You know how heavily it bruises,’ he rubbed his neck with the pads of his fingers. ‘Why would you?’

‘On a scale from one to ten,’ you murmured, brushing wet hair out of his eyes. ‘How much did you hate it?’

You touched the tender skin of his neck, just where the redness was growing, and his breath seemed to get shakier.

‘…s-seven,’ he mumbled.

‘Mm?’

Dongmin cleared his throat, staring at you through his dark eyelashes.

‘Three point seven,’ he offered this time, and you couldn’t help but smile.

‘That’s more like it,’ you hummed, finding his frowning lips in a quick peck.

Meanwhile, he reached down to wrap his fingers around his rock-solid cock to guide it where you both wanted it.

‘Ough-’ You gasped as he bottomed out in one go. ‘Don’t be impatient.’

Your boyfriend’s hips didn’t slow down one bit, although his next thrust seemed slightly more careful. He loved you but he was also damn stubborn.

The glass wall behind Dongmin was getting cloudier from the hot water, which you didn’t hate. The enclosed space seemed snugger now that you were isolated from your surroundings in a way, holding so tightly onto each other. Your skin was slippery under your partner’s fingers, yet he made sure to secure you in his arms. He liked to make it known that once he got you, he wasn’t letting go.

‘Mm- Dongmin-ah,’ you moaned, clutching his shoulder to ground yourself as he kept thrusting quickly.

‘There,’ he finished for you, already knowing what you wanted to express from the way that you tightened around him.

‘Yes, fuck-’

‘Don’t you wish you were more compliant earlier?’ He chuckled darkly, knowing damn well his hips were steadily pushing you towards your release.

The curses you muttered only spurred him on. He got fired up easily, and wanted nothing more than to see and hear you come undone. Especially when he felt he was denied something – like access to your body.

‘I’m… so close, Min-ah, please- You feel so good.’

You knew he liked to stay in control, so instead of bickering with him mid-sex, you just let him know how great he was at what he was doing. A tiny smile that he couldn’t contain revealed that he was pleased with the option you decided to take. With that, he got slightly more determined and aggressive in his thrusting. Patience was not the virtue that he possessed, so you simply closed your eyes, focused on the grind of your bodies.

‘God, I love you so much,’ he gritted, letting out a curse under his breath.

The words were muffled, but you heard them loud and clear. A pleasant shiver ran down your spine, and you moaned, muscles clenching around his cock. The smooth sensation of his length sliding in and out of you made your legs start to tremble.

‘Dongminie-’ You wailed as his hips kept up the brutal pace that brought you to your release so quickly.

He was still going fast and strong while you yelped, on the verge of pushing him away.

‘I’m there, I’m there… Y/N! Agh-’

Dongmin’s voice reverberated from the walls, not even absorbed by the thickened fog around you that you barely noticed. He groaned loudly as he came, and your pussy quivered while you took all of what he was giving you.

Resting his forehead in the crook of your neck to get a breather, he ran his hands up and down your damp waist. You allowed him a moment to gather his strength, finding his slumped shoulders and stroking them along with his back. There were still butterflies in your stomach – either from your recent orgasm, or from him sneaking in the words you cherished so much, or both.

His hands soon reciprocated.

‘Dammit.’ He cursed, turning his head to kiss your neck that was in close proximity. ‘I feel like I could go again.’

The announcement made you squirm. Going several rounds was more than fine with you, but the bathroom wasn’t really suited for his appetites. You could barely hold your balance on wet tile, and it was also getting too hot and humid for your taste.

‘Are you cold?’ He asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You realized his palm was slowly caressing your back, feeling almost scorching against your skin.

‘Not too cold. But I’d still prefer to continue after we finish the shower.’ You suggested, hoping that he wasn’t dead set on milking the bathroom thing further.

‘Noona needs to lie down. I got it.’

You were both grateful and annoyed at his answer.

‘Noona can very well be on top if someone lets her.’

He quickly let you down from the niche you were occupying. Just to remind you how much taller and broader than you he was, for sure.

‘Someone prefers to have noona underneath. Nice and pliable.’

‘It has to be your way, doesn’t it?’

You exchanged naughty chuckles.

‘Come on. Haven’t you been imagining exactly this since the moment you saw the bathroom area? I’m not entirely convinced it was my way just now.’

‘Oh well. I guess I’ll have to convince you once we get to the bedroom.’

‘Who said I wanted to relocate?’ He asked, eyes narrowing at you cunningly.

You were positive that next time you should go for a glass jacuzzi to get the best of both worlds. It’s bigger, warmer, comfier… And still see-though. And hot as hell.

Dongmin snorted, inspecting the pensive expression on your face.

‘I’ll give you a five-second head start to reach the bed. If I catch you on the way… We’re doing it here.’

In any other situation you would’ve called him out for his childishness. This time, however…

You were out the glass door in a heartbeat.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading!! Please comment and reblog if you'd like to support me ✨ I don't write for fandoms other than EXO often, so feedback is important to me~

#eunwoo smut #cha eunwoo smut #lee dongmin #cha eunwoo #kvanity #ksmutsociety #astro eunwoo #eunwoo scenarios #astro smut #astro kpop #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #cha eunwoo x reader #eunwoo x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop writer #kpop imagines #astro aroha #astro

[bloatedandalone04]

You Made it Shine

➪the one where you’ve been feeling a bit lonely, and leon intends on making it up to you.

Warnings: first time daddy kink writer - be gentle, age gap, 18+, daddy kink obvi, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (leon just really wants to knock you up), breeding kink, swearing, scratching, biting, hair pulling, choking, y’all are f r e a k y

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Thank you for 3.6k followers mwah

Some trash reality TV show played in the background while you flipped to another page in your textbook. You had been given a fucking stupid amount of homework to do by next Monday, and you were beginning to feel stressed out about it all. 

It didn’t help that you missed your boyfriend, either. 

Leon had been very busy lately, and you only really saw him when he got in bed with you after eleven PM. 

While you didn’t know much about what he did for work, you knew it required him to be gone a lot and he had to dedicate most of his time to it. 

You huff quietly as you scribble out a word you misspelt before trying again, glancing over at your phone when it went off from its place on the floor beside you. 

Daddy 💖: Gonna be another late night, I think. I’m sorry, baby, I know you wanted to watch that new movie. I promise we’ll get to it soon. Be home in a few hours ❤️

You huff again and quickly type out a message before tossing your phone aside, knowing damn well how childish you are acting, but also not caring at all. 

I’m bored, Leon. I miss you. Let me know when you have time for me. 

As you started to read over the notes you took during your lecture earlier today, your phone went off again within seconds of you sending that last text. 

Daddy 💖: Don’t be like that, princess, I’m feeling bad enough as it is. I’ll be home soon and then we can figure out a time that works for both of us. Only a few more weeks then I’ll get to use some of my unpaid days off, and I’ll be spending every one with you. 

You bite your lip and decide not to answer, already feeling a bit bad for how you acted in your previous message to him. 

Leon worked very hard and put in more hours than most people, and you knew he got into that kind of work early on in his life. He didn’t tell you really anything about his job, but you knew he started when he was twenty one and had been in the same field ever since, now at the age of thirty three. 

You were only twenty two, and you seriously couldn’t imagine putting yourself through half the things he did, so you had to appreciate his dedication, even if just a little bit. 

After reading for a while, you ventured off to yours and Leon’s shared room and changed into a lacy, black two piece pyjama set so you could be a bit more comfortable while you studied. 

You ate a few pieces of strawberries you had cut up for lunch earlier as you skimmed through your notes, the time passing by quicker than you thought it would. 

Before long the front door was swinging open and slamming shut, and the sound of heavy footsteps were heard approaching the living room. “Baby,” Leon rasped as he stood in the doorway. 

You look up at him from your spot on the carpet, your books and pages scattered around you. “Hi,”

Leon shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair next to the door before he was slowly crouching down and meeting your eye level. “Hi,” he said back. His eyes raked over the mess of papers and the tired look on your face, his heart aching a bit at how neglected you looked. “I was worried about you.”

You leaned into his touch when he reached over and ran his knuckles along the curve of your jaw. “Why?”

“You didn’t answer my text,” he stated as his gaze dipped down to your lips. 

Shrugging, you look back at your book. “I felt bad for how I acted,”

“For how you acted?” Leon laughed quietly and moved so he is kneeling next to you. “Baby, I’m the one who cancelled our plans, again. I’m the one who feels bad.” 

You tilt your head when his chin comes to rest on your shoulder. “It’s alright,” you murmured as you felt his lips softly brush the skin behind your ear. “Work comes first. I know that.”

“Not when it comes to you,” he corrected as he moved to pull you onto his lap right there on the living room floor. “You should know that, instead.”

You were finding it hard to focus with his body pressed right up against your back, and his hands running up and down the skin of your thighs, but you played it up as if his actions didn’t faze you. 

Until he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, moving upwards to whisper, “You look so pretty, baby,” and you just could not stop the shiver that ran through your body. “Did you wear this for me?” 

You were helpless as you nodded, glancing over at the time on your phone and seeing that Leon had only been at work for another hour before getting home, and not a few like he said. “Did you rush home for me?”

“Everything I do is for you,” he reminded you as he trailed his mouth along your shoulder blade. “Everyday, you’re on my mind, baby.”

You bite your lip as you turn your head so you can look into his annoyingly pretty eyes. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, you close your eyes as you lean back against him. “I missed you, daddy,”

Leon groaned and pressed a proper kiss to your mouth, slipping his hands under your shirt as he murmured, “I missed you, too, princess. Fuck, did I ever,”

You turn fully so you’re straddling his lap and grip his shoulders with your fingers. “Touch me,” you nearly begged, missing the feeling of his hands on your body after going without it for nearly two straight weeks. “Please.”

Leon cooed at your pout, reaching up to pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. “My sweet girl,” he said, more so to himself. “I haven’t been taking very good care of you, have I?”

You shook your head and pressed your knees into the carpet on either side of his hips. “No, you always take good care of me,” you promised, tangling your hands in his hair. “I just miss you.”

He nodded and placed a noisy kiss on your lips. “I’m right here, baby,” he swore as his hands drifted lower, taking the lace of your panties between his fingers and pulling it down with him. “I’ll take care of you, like I always do.” He said against your mouth as he gently lifted you up and placed you down so your back is against the papers that were scattered all over the carpet. 

They crinkle under you, but you don’t care as he pulls the lace from your body and immediately replaces it with his lips. You sigh and jolt a bit as you reach down to grip his head with one hand. “Daddy,”

Leon grunted against your core and the vibrations had you bucking up against him. “That’s right, baby,” he muttered, running the tips of his fingers along your wet folds. “You needed your daddy, huh?”

“Always,” you answer, spreading your thighs a bit more as he further delved into you. “I always need you, Leon.” 

He hummed against your clit. “I need you, too,” he promised, wrapping his free arm around your thigh and pulling your body closer to his greedy mouth. “Every single fucking day I need you. You’ve made me so damn pathetic, princess.”

You moaned and arched your back a bit, further scrunching up the notes you took. “You’re so good to me, daddy,” you nearly whisper. “That doesn’t make you pathetic. It’s so attractive, you don’t even know how hot you are.”

Leon smiled up at you in appreciation. “I bet you don’t realize how hot you are, either, sweet girl,” he says. “And you taste so fucking good, I could stay down here forever.”

It was a sight that was nearly too hot to handle. Leon hadn’t even been home for five minutes before he was going down on you, still wearing his work clothes, which consisted of black jeans, a black shirt that fit him so well and showed off his toned chest, and boots. 

You always thought he looked too hot to be going to work, but then you realized that he simply looked too hot all the time. How you managed to get him all to yourself, you’d never know, but he is somehow completely obsessed with you in every possible way. 

“That’s fine with me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair and looking down at him. “I’m always so wet for you.”

Leon groaned loudly and began to fuck his fingers into your greedy core. “I know, sweet girl,” he mumbled, coating his fingers in your wetness with every thrust of his hand. “You’re so sensitive. I can just look at you and you’d get wet for me.”

“I can’t help it,” you say quietly. “You’re so hot, daddy.”

“I’m not teasing you, baby,” he promised, kissing your inner thigh as he continued to move his fingers in and out of you. “Not at all. I love how much you need me and how much I turn you on. It’s the same way for me. You make me so hard, it’s painful sometimes.”

You gasp out a laugh that quickly turns into a moan when he curls his fingers in order to be able to reach your sweet spot. “Daddy,” you whined, bucking your hips up as best as you could against his firm hold. “Please.”

“I know, princess,” he hummed, fucking his fingers hard into you and loving the way your face scrunched up at the pleasure. “I know. You just need your daddy to make you come, huh?” 

“Please,” you say again, reaching down to grip his hand in yours. His other picked up the pace and his thumb brushed against your clit with every thrust. “Please.”

Leon kissed all along your thighs, never taking his eyes off your face. “I love it when you beg, baby,” he says. “But you don’t need to right now. I’m gonna get you off so good, I promise.”

“Leon,” you nearly yelled as his mouth returned to your clit. He sucked on it harshly and felt as your thighs shook a bit.  He moved down when he felt your release coat his fingers, and delved his tongue within your walls to taste you. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he praised, sliding his sopping fingers out of you and licking them clean. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”

You whine and pull him down on top of you. “Please, daddy,” you begged, kissing him deeply as he settled between your thighs. “I need you. Want you to fuck me so badly.” 

He tsked, bracing himself by his forearms on either side of your head. Next to where your hair is sprawled out was a sheet from the lecture you had earlier, and Leon grinned at the small amount of drool that left your lips and landed on the paper. It smudged your name and made the ink bleed a bit, but you didn’t care at all. “Look at you,” he groaned, licking up the line of salvia from your mouth to your jaw. “My smart girl, all hot and bothered for me. You want me to fuck you stupid, huh?”

“Yes,” came your instant reply. 

The sight of you was something that couldn’t even be found on the internet. You were so pure and so rare, and all his. 

You were too smart for your own good, yet he could easily get you all dumb for him and his dick. He can easily get you desperate for him. 

“Wait,” he requested, grinding against you when you whined at the word. Your whole body shook as his jeans brushed against your wet and sensitive core, and it was almost enough to have you push him away. “See? You’re not ready to get off again. Not yet.” 

He leaned in to kiss all over your collarbones and shoulders, one hand reaching down to push up your flimsy top. Your breasts spill free from the thin fabric and he moves further down in order to wrap his lips around your nipple. 

“I’ll get you ready,” he promised as he swirled his tongue around the taunt peak, his fingers moving to pinch and pull at your neglected one. “Get you all nice and ready for daddy’s dick.” 

“Mm, fuck,” you whined, raking your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light strands. “Leon…Fuck, I love you.”

He grunted against your nipple, pulling away and leaving a strand of salvia behind.  “I love you so much more, baby. My pretty girl,” he leaned back on his knees, draping your thighs over his as he slowly rocked his hips into yours. You looked so fucked out already, with your tits on full display, your thighs coated in your own release, and your lips swollen and wet. Leon had never seen a prettier sight. 

The front of his jeans quickly began to sport a damp spot from the way he rubbed against your dripping core, and he never wanted to wash them. He could live happily forever while just being covered in your sweet scent. 

You whimpered as you played with your nipples, the slow grind of his hips beginning to work you up again. Your quiet gasps and moans were music to his ears, and Leon was prepared to take tomorrow off just so he can spend the whole day eliciting more sounds from you.

The cool metal of his zipper against your heated clit had your eyes rolling back, your chest lifting up and causing your notes to become wrinkled under you. “Daddy,” you whispered, grinding up against him. He stilled his hips and let you rub against him, his eyes following the lift and drag of your core against his painfully hard dick through his jeans. 

“There you go,” he rasped, gripping your waist and giving you a sharp thrust. You moan loudly, bucking against him desperately. “You sound so sweet, baby. So good for me.” 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He pulls away and watches as your core drips with arousal, sliding down your folds and wetting your anatomy notes without a care in the world. He wanted to lick it up so badly, but refrained from doing so when he felt your gentle tugs on his shirt. 

Leon reached behind him and pulled off the tight fabric from his chest, tossing it aside to join your damp panties. 

You bite your lip and sit up, pulling off your own shirt and throwing it to the side as well. The sound of pages crumpling fills the room as you move to copy his knelt stance, your body much smaller than his and making you have to tilt your head to be able to look up at him. 

Leon reaches down and grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “What do you want, baby?”

You hum, kissing his wrist before moving up to kiss his lips. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair as his tongue explore your strawberry tasting mouth. “I wanna make you feel good, daddy,” you murmur when you pull away. 

Placing open mouthed kisses down his chest, you pause at the waistband of his jeans. You glance up at him as your fingers make work of unzipping them after pulling his belt off. 

“Let me go down on you, daddy,” you offered, pushing down his black boxer briefs and freeing him. “Let me suck you off.”

Leon groaned and tightened his grip on your hair. “You don’t have to ask, princess,” he reminded you. “You know I won’t ever pass up one of your blowjobs.” 

You grinned, gripping him tightly. “I know,” you say before wrapping your lips around him. Starting off with his tip, you run your tongue along his head before slowly taking more of him. You hollow your cheeks and take him until your nose is pressed to his pelvis bone and he is hitting the back of your throat. 

You move so you’re lying flat on your front, your hips pressed to the floor and your juices still dripping onto your homework pages. 

Leon groaned loudly, gathering your hair into a ponytail as you began to suck him off. “God, baby, you’re going to need to ask for a new page for your homework assignment,” he announced. “You’re soaking the one you have now.”

You moan around him, your eyes nearly rolling back when you feel your clit throb at his words. You clench helplessly around nothing at all, your walls pulsating with every sound that leaves his sinful lips. 

“It’s all for you,” you tell him, stroking his wet shaft with your hand as you lean forward to kiss along his abs. His body was insane and you were sure you could spend the rest of your life exploring it and never get bored of the way it felt against your hands. 

He worked out so often, his body had no choice but to tighten up in all the right places. “I know it is, sweet girl,” he mumbled. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to take whenever I want.”

You moan embarrassingly loud at his possessive words, feeling more wetness drip from your folds. “I’m so wet, daddy,” you gasp, licking his tip once more. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, baby,” he cooed, tugging on your lip with the thumb of his freehand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I missed you, too. You need me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

You hum, pulling off him again and stroking him with both hands. “I need it so badly,” 

Leon hummed in agreement. “Lay back, princess,” he instructed quietly. You oblige right away, sitting up only to lay on your back a few seconds later. 

“Are you going to breed me, daddy? Get me all knocked up?” You tease, knowing how badly he wanted to see you round with his baby. Being with you had unlocked so many kinks, Leon hadn’t even heard of some of them, but he knew he definitely had them. 

Leon cursed under his breath as he pulled his jeans off completely and threw them to the side. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promised, staying in his knelt position and grabbing your thighs. He spread your legs and exposed your awaiting core, all ready and his for the taking. “Show all those college boys how badly you wanted me to knock you up.” 

You moan loudly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him coat his salvia covered dick in your wetness before easily sliding in you. Your head falls back and your chest pushes up, your nipples hard and straining against the cool air in the room. “Fuck,”

“That’s my girl,” he grunted once he was fully buried in you. “So fucking tight.” 

“Daddy,” you whine, watching as he began to slowly fuck into you. “You stretch me so good.”

Leon grunted in reply. “You were made for me, princess,” he says, draping your thighs over his again and rocking his hips into yours. “Mine from the very beginning.”

“Fuck, Leon,” you moan, the slick sound of your walls taking every inch of him filling the room. “I need you, daddy. Please.”

“How do you need it, baby?” He asked, running his hands up and down your thighs. 

“Hard,” you answer, and that was all he needed. He gripped your waist tightly and began fucking into you fast and steady, making your whole body jolt and shake with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.” 

Your head falls back and you lay down again, reaching down to grab onto his wrists. “Like this?” He mocked under his breath, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move he made. 

“Yes,” you moan. “Fuck yes, daddy, just like that.” 

“Good girl,” he praised, adoring how responsive you always are to him. “I’ll fuck you nice and hard, like you deserve.”

You whimper and he reaches one hand up to fondle one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger pinching your already hard nipple. Your whole body shakes a bit as he uses his other thumb to rub harsh circles onto your clit. 

It was probably too much too fast, but he knew you could take it. 

You were his sweet, cock-hungry girl, of course you could take it. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you lay back and push away various papers, not caring about their well-being at all as you shove them away from you. 

You should have more self control. You should be studying right now and watching your dumb reality TV show, but here you are instead, splayed out and taking him so well like you always did. 

You couldn’t help it. Leon was so effortlessly attractive and he got you going without even trying. 

You missed this physical contact with him for weeks, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get off with him. 

“Feel good, baby?” He asked, drilling into you without showing any signs of stopping. “Feel full?”

“Yes,” you respond not even a second later.  “Feels so good, Leon.”

He grunted, removing his hand from your chest and sliding it upwards until his fingers were gently pressing against the base of your throat. 

At the slight blocking of your airway, your eyes light up and you grin at him. “Yes,” you moan again, wrapping your nimble fingers around his wrist. 

Leon stared down at the sight below him, his lips parting a bit as he groaned loudly. “My dirty girl, huh? Letting me do whatever I want to you. Letting me fuck you raw,” he mutters, more so to himself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to knock you up.”

You moan in response, clenching tightly around him. “Leon,”

“Yeah,” he huffed, tightening his fingers around your throat. “You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you? Get you all nice and pregnant?”

You both knew that he wanted that, and you did, too, but later down the road. Maybe after you graduate college. 

Leon understood that and is more than supportive of it, so he settled on fantasizing about it instead.

It was just so hard to not imagine a future where you and he start a family of your own. He couldn’t wait. 

“I want it, daddy,” you whimper, feeding into his kink. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“You do make me feel good, sweet girl,” he murmured, gripping your hips in both hands as he fucked into you hard. “You make me feel so good, wrapped around me so tightly, taking me like the good girl you are. You’re so good to me, baby.”

Your eyes roll back as you blindly reach for him. Pulling him down on top of you, your legs wrap around his waist when he moves so he’s hovering over you. 

Raking your nails down his back, you hear him inhale sharply next to your ear. “There you go,” he muttered. “Scratch me up, princess. I want it.”

You oblige and dig your nails a little deeper, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave angry red trails indented on his back. “Leon,” you gasp as you clamp down tightly around him. “Please, make me come again. I need it.”

“Come, baby,” he requested. “All over me. I want you to make it so fucking messy.”

He leaned down and gently sunk his teeth into the skin of your shoulder. His tongue soothed the small sting and your body pulsated a bit as you felt your second orgasm rip through you. “Fuck, Leon, fuck fuck,”

Your walls sucked him in impossibly deeper and each thrust of his hips was noisier than the last. The faint squelch was barely heard over your loud cries as you came harder than before, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted as he felt your warmth flood around him. “Good girl.”

His words set butterflies loose in your body and you cling onto him with every ounce of energy you have left. “Daddy,” you whispered, your core begging for a break but also begging for him to fill you up. “Come, please…inside me.”

Leon lets out a throaty groan as he fucked into you a few more times before stilling. He comes deep within your soaked walls, painting your core white as he fills you up to the brim. “Fuck, baby,” he rasps, pulling out slightly then slipping back inside you again.

He wanted to make sure his seed reached as deep as it could go in you, even if there was no way you could actually get pregnant right now since you’re on the pill. 

You whine a bit when he pulls out completely, replacing his dick with his fingers as he pushes his come back inside you. “Where it belongs,” he mumbles as he leans down to press a kiss to your abused core. 

You shudder a bit as he moves back up your body and wraps you in his arms. Relaxing against his chest, you let out uneven breaths as you feel his seed run down your folds and seep into your lecture notes. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “I really did miss you so much, Leon.”

He kisses your forehead and tightens his hold on you a bit. “I missed you, too, sweet girl,” he replied, knowing both you and he would probably wake up tomorrow with rug burn marks on your bodies. “I’m sorry for not being here very much. I promise it’ll only be a couple more weeks and then I’ll be given a break.”

“It’s okay,” you smile, giving him another kiss. “You made up for it tonight.”

-

Kind of don’t like this at all, so be gentle and lie to me if you hate it, too x

#leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon re #leon smut #re4 leon #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil x reader

[gureumz]

are you mine? (are you? part 2)

rating: explicit

members: sunghoon, heeseung

notes/warnings: fem!reader, INFIDELITY, angst, bf!heeseung, reader cheats on heeseung (again), university setting, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampies, mentions of degrading words in a non-sexual manner, i reiterate again: THERE IS CHEATING IN THIS STORY

a/n: i didn't intend to write a part 2 for 'are you?' but a lot of people wanted to know how it would turn out so here it is! this is much shorter than the first part and is mostly just vibes but with the events of the first part, what else is there to say? 🧍🏻‍♀️

read part 1 here

"do you want to meet my parents?"

you tense under heeseung's touch, hand midway down his bare chest. he's laying on his side, facing you, your legs tangled underneath the blanket. the warmth of his body fades away when a silent chill runs down your spine.

"yeah," you let out uneasily, chuckling in an attempt to mask your nerves. "but, not anytime soon."

heeseung's face remains the same, eyes unreadable as he examines your features. he brushes your hair behind your shoulder, running his fingertips down the flesh of your arm.

"why not? it's been almost four months since we started going out," heeseung replies softly, drawing circles on your elbow.

you move your arm away.

"i just don't think i'm ready," you say with an air of finality, hoping that heeseung would drop the subject.

you don't think you'll ever be ready. not after...

heeseung watches you for a few moments. to your surprise, he nods, lips spreading into an understanding smile.

"okay," heeseung chirps. "that's fine."

your chest feels like it's been caved in, relief and dread filling in like heavy sand.

"thank you," you say, smiling up at your boyfriend's face.

heeseung moves closer and plants a chaste kiss on your lips. you respond, endeared by the gentle pass of his mouth on yours, a contrast to how rough he was with you merely minutes before.

"if anything's bothering you, you know you can always tell me right?" heeseung whispers, placing slow, loving kisses on your face.

your heart seems to stop, then picks up beating ten times faster. heeseung isn't very vocal, and this sudden display of affirmation has you reeling.

he knows. he must know.

you laugh, a nervous shake in your voice. a half-baked joke enters your mind.

"anything?" you attempt playfully. heeseung takes the bait and pulls back, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"what if i was secretly a serial killer?" you deadpan, narrowing your eyes at heeseung. a smile tugs at the edges of your lips.

heeseung chuckles, pulling you against his chest. he presses his lips one more time to your forehead.

"then i would gladly be your victim."

---

"i'm yours."

you whimper at these words, pulling him closer to you, face buried in his sturdy shoulder. he moves passionately against you and your whole body erupts in invisible flames.

"all yours," sunghoon reiterates, tongue running along the line of your jaw.

"you don't mean that," you argue weakly.

your cheeks burn up as you realize just how loud the two of you are being. his dorm bed creaking, headboard banging against the wall. you knew it was safer to meet him here, less of a chance that your boyfriend might find something that isn't his.

"i do," sunghoon replies gruffly. "a slave to you, to this—god—to this fucking pussy."

you sob at his words, a mix of arousal, elation, and remorse rising in you. with sunghoon, it just felt too good, too alluring to refuse. he was a lighthouse, standing out in a sea of darkness you didn't even know you were stranded on.

with him, you were, you are shameless.

sunghoon finishes inside you, but not before you reach the finish line first, sans condom this time, as he had so many times since that night in his car.

the thought makes you feel filthy all over, in desperate need of a shower, to scrub all sin from your skin.

"spend the night," sunghoon says once he hands you a towel for you to use. you hold it to your core, wincing when you feel the simultaneous ache and squelch of his release dribbling out of you. you catch it before it stains his sheets.

you've never spent the night here before. you check the digital clock on sunghoons desk and it reads 1:13 a.m.

"i can't. heeseung's coming over early to walk me to class," you inform, twisting the towel in your hands.

sunghoon watches you from where he sits on the edge of his bed. you meet his eyes and you know he can see right through you.

heeseung's not really coming over.

"fine," you finally concede. you pretend not to notice the brief twitch in sunghoon's mouth.

"i kinda want to shower though," you add, eyes flitting over to the bathroom door.

sunghoon grins, leaning close. you wrap your arms around your knees protectively. he stares at your face for a second before kissing you softly, so soft you barely feel it.

"whatever you want," sunghoon says.

---

sunghoon holds you close under the shower now. a million thoughts are racing through your mind. in this space, at this time, it seems like the world has stopped and only the two of you are living beings in existence.

"text me tomorrow," sunghoon reminds, deep voice echoing against the bathroom walls.

you sigh, lifting your head from where it rests on his chest.

"you know i can't do that."

and you can't.

all your exchanges have been through brief, curt phone calls. sunghoon was smart enough to punch in his number on your phone after you were done in the parking lot that night. since then, you've labored over deleting every call log your phone creates after each conversation.

heeseung was none the wiser.

"then call," sunghoon corrects himself. "i love hearing your voice."

ironically, you don't say anything more to that.

---

"i can't believe i've been assigned on a project with him!"

your ears perk up.

the restaurant you're in is empty at this hour, with the rush of lunch ending some time ago. you pick up a french fry from the bowl you and heeseung are sharing, popping the greasy treat into your mouth.

"who?" you question.

"sunghoon."

the initial reaction you have to your boyfriend mentioning the guy you've been fucking behind his back has grown weaker over the past few weeks, but with how often heeseung references sunghoon, it's a surprise you haven't thrown up all over yourself in sheer guilt.

"oh, him again?" you throw out nonchalantly. you busy yourself with your phone, ignoring the way heeseung looks at you quizzically.

"what do you mean 'again'?"

you look at heeseung, trying to portray the perfect mix of exasperation and cluelessness.

"it's always sunghoon this and sunghoon that," you explain. "if i didn't know better, i'd say you were in love with the guy."

ha ha. what a funny joke.

and much to your surprise, heeseung finds this absolutely hilarious. he lets out a genuine, hearty laugh, slamming the table with his palm.

"he wishes," heeseung responds with a snort. "he's always trying to one-up me, copying everything i do, following me around like a puppy. i'd say he was in love with me."

wrong.

you laugh along, finishing off another french fry.

---

"you're trying to steal my boyfriend's life, is that it?"

sunghoon stops typing on his laptop, turning to you from where he's seated at his desk. you're sprawled over his bed, wearing one of his shirts.

"excuse me?" sunghoon says, as if fighting off the urge to laugh.

you slide off the mattress, sauntering over to him. you throw a leg over his lap, sinking down until you're straddling sunghoon. his large hands hold you by your waist. looking down at him at this moment, you feel every fiber of your being light up with a sort of giddiness you've never felt before.

"heeseung told me about how you're always trying to one-up him and 'beat him at his own game', so to speak," you explain.

"and now you're banging me, his girlfriend, every chance you get," you add cheekily, kissing the corner of sunghoon's mouth.

sunghoon exhales, hands traveling up your back, cradling you, holding you close.

"i don't want to steal his life," sunghoon says, voice low.

"even if i came with it?" you question, tilting your head to the side. sunghoon grins, kissing you so suddenly, you fall back against his desk.

"such a clever, clever girl."

you're trembling now.

anticipation. want. need.

"my clever girl," he adds.

---

the first cracks start showing the day you ask sunghoon about his wanting heeseung's life.

you promised to meet heeseung for dinner later that day but not before you rid yourself of sunghoon's shirt, of course. he sent you off with a long, heady kiss against the door of his dorm.

you were distracted for the entirety of the meal. heeseung could tell. you know heeseung could tell. something was eating at you from inside.

it didn't help when heeseung made a mindless comment on the way back to your own dorm room.

"you smell different," he had said.

you surrendered to the idea that you were irrevocably fucked at that point. you made a sorry excuse about borrowing a friend's perfume, nonetheless.

the cracks are spreading, spiderwebs of destruction in the walls of your relationship.

sunghoon is a proud man, not unlike heeseung. he's greedy, selfish, controlled by his desires.

you aren't as careful as you used to be. first, a hair tie, a black one, like any other hair tie. you left it at sunghoon's dorm one day. to this day, he wears it like a badge of honor.

a shirt next. a considerable jump from a hair tie, but sunghoon lent you one, and delirious with sleep, neither of you noticed when you waltzed right out of his room still brandishing the white tee that was obviously too big for you.

you made it under your own covers on your own bed when you finally realized.

lastly, a hickey.

you've done it now. you've fucked up so bad you can already see heeseung razing both heaven and hell as he finds out.

"fuck," you mutter under your breath, staring daggers at your reflection, at the red-purple mark just above your collarbone.

"fuck!"

how could both of you reach this point? practically gallivanting your affair under heeseung's nose. it sickens you. you're disgusted with yourself.

but you know you're only this appalled because you're a hair away from being caught.

you jump when you hear the door to your room slam shut. of course. of course. heeseung has a copy of your dorm room key. you gave it to him a few weeks ago as a sort of milestone in your relationship.

you think to yourself with much irritability that you shouldn't have done that.

the ceiling is caving in. run. run now.

"_________?" heeseung calls out. you hear him approach the bathroom door. he knocks and you feel like screaming.

so polite. heeseung's always so polite.

"i don't feel good, hee," you manage. you definitely feel sick and you want to pass out.

"what's wrong? do you need to go to the hospital?" heeseung asks, voice growing loud with concern. he tries the doorknob.

"no!" you yell a little too loud. "it's just—i just need to be left alone, please."

silence.

you hold your breath, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

you don't even know who's looking back at you.

"okay," heeseung finally says after a few moments. "let me know if you need anything, please?"

you call out a reply, collapsing to the bathroom floor once you hear your door close once more.

---

you ignore him for a week.

he tries to come over but you shoo him away with one excuse or another. your conversations are contained in dry texts and obligated phone calls. he asks what's wrong. he pleads with you.

nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong!

heeseung seems like a far-off memory now. you haven't properly looked at his face in days. you haven't held him in much longer.

today, he's waiting for you outside your dorm. he looks like shit. dark circles under his eyes, hair disheveled, clothes unironed.

"baby, what's happening?" heeseung asks, not even sparing you any formalities. no 'hey', 'hi', or 'hello'.

he holds you by the arms, still gentle as ever and only now do you see the damage in his eyes. damage you've inflicted.

"i—," you begin. what are you going to say? sorry, i've been fucking sunghoon behind your back for the better part of four months, i let him call me his and i agree when he says he's mine?

"i can't do this anymore," you whisper, head hung low.

"do what? what can't you do?" heeseung demands, voice rising into a desperate whine.

"baby, please," he continues, sinking to his knees. he looks up at you and he's crying.

"what did i do?"

you watch heeseung sob at your feet and it's the most difficult thing you've had to watch thus far. you ball your hands into fists, confused, angry, regretful.

where's that ego now, heeseung? why aren't you mad? be mad! yell at me, blame me for something, tell me how much better off you'd be with someone else! make it easier for me to tell the world that you hurt me!

"you didn't do anything," you say, tears now falling from your own eyes.

heeseung just looks at you. looks at you for what seems like hours. his face, previously crumped up in despair, morphs into an expression of clarity.

he knows.

heeseung pulls himself up from the ground, letting go of you and stepping back, as if shocked by electricity.

"i hope you're happy."

you know what that means.

go fuck yourself. fuck you and whoever the guy is. you're a whore, a bitch, a waste of my time!

you look at heeseung one final time, shoulders shaking as your whole body is racked with sobs.

"i love you," heeseung declares.

he brushes past you, down the stairs, out the lobby, out the exit.

out of your life.

---

you truly are sick. you're vile. you're the worst.

sunghoon knows even before you can say anything. he pulls you into his room and into his arms, whispering nonsense to you as you cry into his chest.

and then you're kissing, hands pulling at clothes, tongues dragging against skin, blood rushing in your ears.

you know this makes sunghoon feel better about himself. you're not stupid. you carried out a secret affair for weeks. of course, you aren't.

you realize now that it's sunghoon who has an ego.

he relishes in the way you cling to him so desperately, basks in the sounds you make, mixed with his name.

"i've got you," sunghoon reassures, arms braced on either side of your head as he fucks you down on his bed.

"please," you whimper out, holding sunghoon's face in your hands. he's going so deep, abusing your hole and it feels so good.

sunghoon kisses you and it's forceful and needy and everything you need at this moment.

"you're mine," sunghoon grunts, your bottom lip caught between his.

you mewl as he lets go of your lip with a tug.

"i'm yours," you say.

sunghoon leaves kisses all over your chest, neck, and jaw. he's getting you closer to your release. you want it, you want it so bad.

"and i'm yours?" sunghoon questions, kissing behind your ear.

"all mine," you confirm.

---

you wake up the next day, limbs heavy and a colossal headache bursting through your head. you feel arms tighten around your midsection and it's a tidal wave of memories of the day before for the next few seconds.

you bury yourself further into the pillows and covers.

sunghoon kisses the nape of your neck and you drift back into sleep.

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon smut #sunghoon scenarios #w: sunghoon #w: heeseung

[mugentakeda]

i saw fanart for this age old unfinished fic and was so interested by the premise that i simply HAD to give the concept my own spin.... Ill put my notes under the cut cus it got kinda long lol

-FIRST OF ALL. i headcanon lu ten as a powerful firebender (like, lightning bending powerful. not an expert at it yet, but can generate it at will. only recently picked it up before the siege.) that can Also use a weapon. he picked it up for funsies and ended up taking it seriously and then excelling. he learned under piandao and in turn later introduced him to zuko. His weapon that he made with piandao was a more traditional jogekama yari, which he had on him when he was captured. long feng destroyed it and had a new jogekama yari made for lu ten in a more sleek earth kingdom style, with longer and more savage blades. **ALSO: lu tens jogekama yari is based on saras yari from samurai champloo!!!! i just made the side blades curved in opposite directions (which made it a jogekama instead of saras type of yari) -lu ten does not interact with the other agents. whether brainwashed or amnesic in this, hes not even one of the secret police that go around arresting people. hes a lone agent that works Directly under long feng and is more of an assassin and spy thats permitted in and out of ba sing se for the missions and jobs long feng sends him on, unlike the rest of the agents. as a gift for his (made up) birthday, long feng gave him a hand carved stone earring. Yes, its a tracker. yes, lu ten knows that. No, he doesn't care and wears it anyway. his boss can do what he wants, and he trusts his boss with his life (lol). the other dai li agents know of lu tens existence, less have seen him with their own eyes, none are permitted to speak to him if they do. they dont know hes a "nonbender". -i havent decided on whether or not i want lu ten brainwashed in this or simply amnesic?? it would be neat if he was the brainwash soft launch since the ba sing se conspiracy brainwashing only started After the siege. lu ten is a firebender, has that fn royalty brand iron willpower, so youd think thats hard to brainwash especially if he was the soft launch, but if long feng kept up the sessions regularly over the course of 6-ish years (and as their brainwashing techniques improved), id doubt it would rub off. its a seven layer salad of brainwashing. and even if he was amnesic rather than brainwashed, theyd still need to do some adjustments in lu tens head to TOTALLY wipe out any idea of firebending, on top of regular chi blocking. -as for the amnesic part, i read a theory that introduced the idea that lu ten being killed was an inside job orchestrated by ozai. which i dont think would be canon, but it would be pretty cool?? like especially considering how FAST he jumped on azulon about heirs. very suspicious indeed. and all too convenient: have a group of moles set in irohs army, once lu ten moves out away from iroh then corner him, kill him, make it look like the earth army did it, sneak back to the fire nation, ozai gets the crown. easy as pie. -and to combine one of MY OWN aus with the above, aka the one where zhao and lu ten were both taught together under jeong jeong, the first time that zhao REALLY made a big move into ozais pocket was offering to be the head mole in irohs army. it made perfect sense to ozai, and he gladly sent zhao on his way- him being close rivals with him will catch him off guard and make the job far easier. and if zhao succeeds, and KEEPS succeeding, when ozai undoubtedly snatches the crown, he will grant zhao all the rewards and titles he could ever want until the cows come home. snazzy deal.

so whichever one of those you guys find cooler will be the one i go with because frankly both of them have the same amount of fun angst and drama idk......................

-as for lu tens face and arm, i base that off how i think lu ten died, not even gna lie. in the case where he is dead i think half his skull got crushed open and his arm was blown right off from the bicep. the stitches are just for aesthetic purposes. i was inspired by how scars are drawn in one piece, and because they give a "frankensteins monster" type look, which i found fitting, since this is a 'came back wrong' trope/winter soldier-esque au. the bandages covering his face was a suggestion from an anxious long feng to hide his face in public, while the ba sing se conspiracy was still fresh and the citizens might recognize the spawn of the dragon of the west if they looked long enough.

-as for lu ten and long fengs relationship, i havent thought about it enough, but im definitely imagining smthn along the lines of "you were always working for me, i picked you up and trained you when you had nothing, you owe me your life and loyalty", mixed with some gentle stockholm syndrome. like, a combination of "the king and his most loyal guard dog", a very strange psuedo father-son relationship??? (which was honestly accidental on long fengs part. but he kept it up because he found the irony amusing. yes he will try and rub that in irohs face. yes iroh will beat his skull in for it. its chill)

-this has nothing to do with the au but please see iroh and zukos body language in the third panel of the comic... i love to portray them as protective of each other... zukos blade placed before iroh, irohs arm switching from shoulder to shoulder as zuko turns, always placed between him and whatever is approaching... Heurghhh (GRIPS HEAD

#BUT YEAH I HOPE U GUYS LIKE TJIS ... if that ends up being the case maybe ill talk abt it more and expand a bit further... #BUT ONLY IF U GUYS LIKE IT I PROMISE. #yes this woudl probably change the outcome of book 2 thats a whole other can of beans #lu ten #iroh #zuko #long feng #atla #avatar the last airbender #alicias art

[yuyu1024]

Use me

Pairings: Mingyu × y/n

Genre/tags: FWB

Warning: 🔞 smut but a little fluff? cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, kink

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.4k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

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

Note: just a short random drabble. 😅 no story line

*****

"What are you doing?" Mingyu asks the second he enters your room.

He found you laying, face down on your bed and wrapped with your thick blanket like a cocoon.

"Go away." You mumble over your pillow

You hear him shut the door of your room and walk around to your bed "Your brother called me and said you are a mess."

"Why would he call you?!" You shove your face even more onto the pillow

"One because he's leaving... he said he'll go and meet up with his girlfriend and her family."

"Oh."

"And two," Mingyu rolls you around, to set your free from your blanket and pulls you up to sit down and face him. "I'm here to be your guy." He smiles as he pushes all the hair covering your face away. "Your eyes are so red... why did you cry this time?"

"Well..." you look down unable to say the thing that hurted you.

"Just say it..." he pushes the blanket away and moves to your side to sit. "C'mon... tell me..."

Tears are coming back up but you try to hold it in. "Maybe it's just my hormones I don't know..."

"Y/N... just spit it out."

You turn your head to face Mingyu, still trying to hold on to your tears. "I think.... I think Cheolie is dating someone new..."

"Hmm..."

"Hmm? Just hmm?"

"Well that's old news."

"What do you mean old news? How long did you knew?"

Mingyu playfully flicks his finger on your forehead. "A month?"

"A month? They have been dating for a month already?"

Mingyu shakes his head. "You asked me, how long did I knew.... A month... but them dating... hmm... looks like a bit longer than that."

"What?!"

Your lips starts to quiver, a sign that you are about to cry again, but Mingyu had it with you crying for that man.

"Stop. If you cry again. I'll kiss you." He warns as he squishes your cheeks, making you pout like a duck.

"But..."

"No buts... stop. You two have broken up for half a year now... you should move on already..."

You move away from him to release your cheeks from his grip. "I know... but... it's so hard to forget... we dated for two years..."

"You say it is hard to forget but look at him... dating already..."

"What can I do? I... I just..."

"Why? Do you still love him? After what he did to you?" He sounds more serious now. "Y/N... come on... the guy is not worth it."

"I know...." you slide back, to let your back rest on your headboard  "I just... miss having someone.. maybe? And Cheolie have been that guy for me... I need love and--"

"You have me." Mingyu suddenly says. "I am your friend... and if you want... I can help you with... well... your other needs."

You blush at his remarks. You and Mingyu have been friends longer than you've know Cheol. He have always been there. He is the nicest guy you ever met. And to add to that is he is a very good looking guy. He is a catch.

However, the thought of you and him doing anything more than friendship... that never occured to you.

You don't want to loose him as well.

"C'mon... you're thinking about it too much..." he leans in and kisses you on the cheek. "Just say yes and I'll do all the work if you want."

"But..."

"Why? Don't you want it? Am I not an attractive guy for you?"

"Mingyu... stop... you are beautiful okay?" You wipe the tears you have in your eye and turn your whole body to face your friend. "However... this is not a joking matter okay..."

"Who said I'm joking...?"

Then you see his facial expression more, he's really serious about it. "Mingyu..."

He smiles, not showing any teeth and then leans in and kisses you on the lips. A smooch. "We've hugged before... slept together before..."

"That was different. We literally just... slept..."

"Did we really just slept?"

You suddenly feel your cheek heat up. You know what he is referring to.

Yes you guys had some moments when you both fell asleep watching a movie together in his apartment or your house as per usual. But there were a few of those nights that you tried to brush it off since you think it was nothing that maybe it's juzt because out of habits for both of you since you two date other people, that maybe the muscle reflexes just did it for you while you were have sleepy.

"That look in your face tells me... you do  remember..." Mingyu says as he caress your cheek. "We've touched each other and grinded..." he whispers, "I can still remember how your hips moved when you felt my erection from your behind..." he trails off

"Mingyu!" You suddenly got shy. You grab your blanket and cover yourself up again.

It is true. You remember it. It was just a month after you and Seungcheol broke up. You went to visit Mingyu in his apartment because you needed company. You are sad and broken. You want someone to hold onto whilst you cry and Mingyu is a big hugger and you love it.

That one night, you cried so much that you fell asleep. You two are in the sofa and he is hugging you from behind. You were also holding onto his hand, squishing it in your embrace on your chest. Which caused his body to react. How can he not? Your body is warm and his hand is literally touching your boobs that is out of his control.

He tried to pull his hand from you but you insisted to hug onto it. Even pulling it closer that his finger already touching your nipple. He could feel it. You were not wearing a padded bra that day so it's more, exposed when it is hard and perky.

"Y/N..." he whispers, trying to wake you up but no response.Well, no response until you felt his dick gets hard for you.

You were half asleep but you know how to move your hips to make him go insane. You could hear him breathing that night, you know your effect on him. But you tried to avoid it.

"If you just need someone to hug... then just hug me..." Mingyu says. "I am not forcing you anything..."

Lowering down the blanket, you look up to him and watch him, stare at you with so much care.

"But if we make out...and I..."

"Then use me... I don't give a fuck. I'm just as horny as you."

"Hey!" You pinch him on his abdoment. "I'm not... a perv like you!"

"Are you sure about that?" Mingyu is wearing a smug on his lips. "Coz looking at how your nipples are hard and showing through yout shirt says a lot for me." He teases

"It's cold!" You are crimson red now. He is your friend but you hate how blunt he is sometimes.

But he's not entirely wrong though. Him making you remember than one night you to grinded at each other made you feel things down there.

"So, what do you say?"

You lower your head and mumble. "Stay with me..."

"What did you say?" He tries to search for your face. He barely heard you properly

"I said..." you got up on your knees and pull him into a big kiss. "Stay... with me...."

A grin spread across his lips and he responded so quickly by grabbing you your waist and making you sit on his lap. You could already feel his erection through his black jogging pants.

"Just tell me what you want me to do..." he nibbles on to your neck before he goes lower to your breasts. He finds your nipples so easy as they are so hard so he just went on to suck one while pinch on the other one.

"Fuck." You hiss. It felt so good. No one has touhed you in months and this satisfy itch in you.

"Is it me or your boobs got... bigger?" He squishes both with his hands.

"Maybe because period is coming soon..."

"Really?" He smiles. "Is it why your horny and more sensitive too?" He then playfully bites your shirt covered nipple

"Nnggghhh..." you squirm because of the sensation. "Y-yes..."

"You're so cute." He then kisses you on the lips and says, "do you want to fuck?"

#yuyu1024 #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt smut #kpop imagines #kpop angst #kpop fanfic #svt imagines #svt x y/n #svt x reader #svt x you #mingyu #svt mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu fanfic #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n

[cosmal]

you said hurt/comfort? maybe reader always gave to much of themselves in relationships (like they buy a lot of gifts, they’re the first one asking to hang out, stuff like that) and never had as much effort in return (w their ex partner for example idk) and when james (who’s love languages i hc are all) gives as much effort as reader does, and like buys them gift without reason, reader is just crying bc omg someone cares about me

this was really about me lmao i need comfort and very long sorry

pasta

summary no one has ever cooked you dinner before. james fixes that for you.

content james potter x fem!reader

note this req is literally from nov but i wrote it like two months agar and never posted im so sorry. also combined with this! request.

James bursts through your door with a mouthful of apologies already on his tongue.

"Sorry, I tried to knock but my hands were full!" he says breathlessly, holding a ridiculous amount of bags in his hands, mumbling sorry's for scaring you.

You stand at the bottom of your hallway with a hand held to your chest. "You okay? Do you need a hand?"

"Don't move a muscle," he says firmly when he reaches the kitchen bench, heaving his groceries up onto the marble with a groan. You move your hand to your lips to stifle a laugh.

"I don't want to be rude," you move to stand next to him at your kitchen island, "but what are you doing here?" You say it with a softness. He usually calls or messages you before he shows up at your flat.

"We made plans, remember," he says smiling. He kisses you on the side of your head before composing himself, starting to unpack the bags.

"I went to Morrison's and bought a bunch of stuff. Thought I'd cook you dinner." You did make plans, they were your idea. You didn’t expect him to do anything for you, you expected to maybe take him to the park for lunch or something.

"Oh," you say lightly.

You watch as he unpacks. Cloves of garlic, parsley, thickened cream, fettuccine, eggs, and pancetta. It looks like all the helpings for a carbonara. There's a Sara Lee chocolate bavarian sat to the side with frosted ice all over the cardboard that you assume is dessert. You've only been together for a few months and you're yet to have a homecooked meal together.

You're sure you've never had anyone cook you dinner before. Not without a reason or a special occasion. You worry suddenly that you've forgotten an important date.

You hum and smile along as James buzzes around the kitchen with enough energy to power a small country. You fret that you're tamping down his good mood but you're trying to remember your anniversary. And the first time you kissed. The first time you met. For a second you think you've forgotten your birthday.

He says something to you and you crack an uneven smile.

"Sweetheart?" he says again. He stops where he's got the side of his knife pressed into a head of garlic.

You blink. "Sorry, what did you say?'' You try to hide your emotion. Your voice is scratched with dread and you bite down into your lip to stay calm.

"I asked you how your day was," he repeats, setting the knife on his chopping board. He's grated half a block of cheese while you've been stuck in your head. You hope you haven't embarrassed yourself.

"Have I missed something?" you ask, voice drenched in worry. You hide your hands under the kitchen bench where you pick at your nails.

"Hmm?" he hums, eyebrows pinched together.

"You're cooking me dinner," you say, James's confusion worsens, "Is there a special reason?"

"Not really," he shrugs all blasé. This makes it worse. You don't understand.

"Then why..."

"Did you already have plans?" James worries, smile faltering. His confusion warps into something like embarrassment. "Sorry, honey, I didn't even ask."

"No, Jamie, it's not that!" you backtrack, feeling more awful than before. You just feel out of your own depth. "I've just never..."

He moves around the bench to stop where you're sitting on one of your bar stools. Your knees press into his thighs he's so close. "What's the matter?"

You grab his hands before you pick your nails raw. You think about hiding your embarrassment in his chest but decide against it. If you get too close to him you might forget bout the entire reason you're upset. You'd rather it that way but you're sure he wouldn't.

"I've never had someone cook for me," you admit quietly. You warm with a prickling heat and squirm in your rickety bar stool.

"Oh," he says, all sullen. "Well, that won't do."

You look up at him and worry you look pathetic. He cracks a smile and you're sure it's on your behalf. "What?"

"No one ever has cooked for you?" he asks. He's not rubbing in, he sounds shocked

"No," you say. You sound stupid, you're sure you look it too. You want to crawl up into a ball.

"Y/N, I know you've had boyfriends before." He knows about your past relationships and how they weren't the best. But surely they'd at least made you dinner. James overestimates them sorely.

"They never did any of this stuff for me," you sniffle. The first tear is a shock and then James is looking at you all upset and confused and the next one isn't as startling.

He wraps his arms around your back and holds you close to his chest quicker than you can reach to wipe your face. He presses slow and hot kisses into the top of your head and your tears worsen. They're sticky and thick, his cotton shirt catches the brunt of your embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," you mumble with the side of your face smooshed into his firm chest. It's too grounding and your tears don't slow like you wish they would.

"Hey, don't be," he says, smoothing a hand down your trembling back, "You deserve things."

You don't say anything, rubbing your cheek against his shirt. He tuts. "You deserve a relationship with effort, Y/N."

You hiccup. "I've never had someone care about me like you do."

James holds you so close you worry you're hurting him. He turns his head until his cheek is pressed into your hair and takes a breath. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you say and try not to disturb where he's resting on top of you. You like it more than you should. "It's okay."

"It's not."

"It is," you sniffle and pull yourself from his hold. He lets you go though with a hesitance. "It is because now I've got you."

James finally cracks a smile. "Right," he sniffles to compose himself, "right and I'm about to make you the best carbonara of you life."

"I'm excited." You wipe the remnants of your upset from your cheeks and smile wetly.

"Good."

James sets to work. Buzzing around the kitchen after he'd plugged his phone into your sound system. Shuffling the playlist he made a week into your relationship. He sings his heart out, stirring whatever it is he's got going on in the pan.

You sit at the edge of the bench with the biggest smile on your face when he starts to serenade you. Wooden spoon held to his mouth, he sings an awful rendition of Lay All Your Love On Me by ABBA. You laugh so hard you think you might be too sick to eat the pasta.

Later on that night when you're too full to move, James slides a box across the table and says, "I also got you this." With the prettiest grin you've ever seen.

You're overwhelmed with love for you to be upset. Your boyfriend is lovely and you think you might be the luckiest girlfriend on the planet.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x female!reader #james potter x female reader #james potter drabble #james potter one shot #james potter headcanon #james potter drabbles #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #james potter fan fic #marauder x reader #the marauders #the marauders fanfic #the marauders fanfiction

[dulc3vida]

you.

rafe cameron x bunny!reader

part 1. this is my au so don't think too much about canon lore. characters, times, events, ect... might not match but PLEASE JUST ENJOY THE STORY PLEASE JUST GIVE IT A CHANCE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASe

warning: 18+ read at your own risk. this is a dark fic loosely inspired by the tv show you. dubious content lies ahead, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

UNC Chapel Hill: September, Sophomore Year

there was nothing rafe cameron hated more than being tutored. it made him feel stupid, needing someone to explain and break down concepts that others understood easily. ward used to lose his mind trying to find rafe new tutors because in all honesty, when rafe felt cornered or helpless, he got nasty. saying the rudest things that made these well-paid, private tutors basically discard a paycheck, was one of the first times rafe ever felt true power. the first time he ever came close to knowing what his dad felt like, even though his dad had a much better reputation than rafe ever would.

rafe especially hated english. the books were boring and he could never be bothered to sumbit more than a half baked essay regarding the text. that's how he ended up in the study room in the library sitting across from you. he remembered you from class, the TA. you always sat besides prof. callahans desk and you looked younger than any TA he had ever had, probably even his age. your face was familiar but rafe couldn't put his finger on it. you were clean, you smelled good, and your nails were done which meant you had the time and money to take care of that kind of thing when most college students forget to feed themselves. you occasionally looked up from the signup sheet as the minutes ticked 5 past 3pm, where only rafe's name was signed.

"i guess we can start now." you mumbled, flipping your notebook open. "this weeks quiz is going to cover part 1 of crime and punishment. have you... started the reading?"

rafe's hard gaze bored into yours and he shook his head without another word. he was thinking about how cute and neurotic the way you had your notes organized was and how soft you spoke to him. were you scared of him? rafe was intrigued.

"okay, no biggie. we can just start there. did you check out a copy of the book?" you asked, pulling out your own copy that was bursting at the seam with sticky notes and colored tabs. again, rafe wordlessly shook his head. "good thing we're in the library. come on, let's go see if they have any left."

rafe followed close behind you, you could practically feel him breathing down your neck as you walked through rows of books before finding the one you were looking for. you showed rafe how to check a book out before returning to the study room. "okay. let's start."

you began dissecting the book from the very beginning, soft voice describing the historical context of the book. rafe was surprised at how well he was keeping up. it didn't hurt that you were cute, nose all blushed and button, scrunching up whenever you couldn't read your own handwriting in your notes. a pair of clear framed glasses sat on the bridge of your nose which you constantly adjusted due to your eyelashes hitting the glass. you had a habit of licking and biting your lips, applying lipgloss on every "brain break" as you called it. maybe all this time, all he needed was a cute tutor that he could stand looking at.

in between writing notes and flipping through the book, he caught glimpses of a "j" necklace dangling in your cleavage. did your name start with a j?

"what's your name?" rafe asked once the two of you began packing your things up. it was now 7:30 with the sun beginning to set. you told him and he repeated it under his breath.

"my friends call me bunny though." if you're bunny, who is j? you tossed your bag over your shoulder and let your hair down from the claw clip that was holding it up. it billowed over your shoulders and you tucked a few stray strands behind your ears after taking your glasses off. you weren't the shy good girl he met at the beginning of the session, no, you were different. good girl in front of everyone but he knew there was another energy in you that he wanted- no he needed to see. rafe watched you leave, staying a few steps behind, where he could comfortably watch you and before he knew it, you were jumping into the passenger side of a beat up old brown van that pulled up, and leaning over to give whoever was driving a kiss.

rafe felt a familiar, red hot anger wash over him. the first time he felt that anger was when sarah was born and ward wouldn't stop fawning over her. ward basically forgot he had a son when sarah was born which made rafe incredibly insecure. that insecurity built a home inside rafe's heart, where any little inconvenience could turn it into an ugly monster with sharp teeth and a desire to tear everything in sight into fucking pieces. this time, the monster was awakened at the reality of you having a boyfriend.

against his better judgement, rafe ran to his truck the second you took off, speeding down the road he saw you drive down. it took him a minute, but he managed to find the shitbox on wheels you were riding around in. he made sure to stay far enough away to where it didn't seem suspicious, but close enough to where he wouldn't lose you again.

he wouldn't lose you again.

he repeated that phrase to himself as he drove into jacksonville and while he parked his car a few spaces from the van in a place where your little group was fully visible. you came to the beach. there was 3 guys, 1 girl, and you. gone were your leggings, tank top, and cardigan. instead, you donned a pair of cutoff jean shorts, a bikini top, and a huge smile on your face as you settled yourself in the blonde boys lap.

rafe thought he recognized the group you were with, but he was hoping his eyes were just playing tricks. of course, it could never be that simple because rafe did know them. the pogues. what were they doing on the mainland? he hadn't seen them in a while and was getting used to not having to see or smell them other than when he went home for holidays.

jj, he knew worked in the cafeteria ever since he graduated earlier in the spring, which is probably how he met you. rafe had never been fond of jj, in fact, rafe lived to antagonize jj back on the island (if he cared for the cafeteria food, he would probably be in there a lot more to mess with him) so him having you felt like poorly timed karma. to be completely honest, rafe hadn't expected such a dramatic shift of power dynamics when coming to college because now there was at least 10 other rafe's who were dating the girls he should have been dating. he did just fine at parties, more than fine, but he was starting to get tired of drunk girls who just lied there all limp and sweaty or threw up on his dick (happened twice freshman year and he didn't enjoy it like he thought he would). the first decent, eligible girl he meets is getting her pussy dug out by jj maybank of all people and it felt like someone, somewhere was laughing at his misfortune. it almost made him want to give up on you.

almost.

he would never let jj maybank win at anything, let alone your heart. there was just something about you that he couldn't let go. the only thing he couldn't figure out was why everyone else was here too? none of them had a chance of getting into chapel hill. you either had to have perfect grades, be incredibly wealthy, or be a legacy student. thankfully, rafe managed to be 2/3 of those things.

rafe sat back in his seat and just observed you. he cracked his windows open and tried to listen to your conversation but he was too far to hear anything other than laughter and unintelligible voices. he pulled his phone out and typed your name into instagram, easily finding your very public page.

rafe decided to do some digging. he would start at the bottom. scrolling all the way back through a very curated feed (rafe could tell you pick and choose which of your old posts get to stay up and which ones ruin the feed) rafe felt his heart sink.

he knew you.

OBX: Summer 2018

"come on, bunny, i don't wanna go without you." your friend, esther, pleaded. she had been invited to rafe camerons party, a coveted event where anything and everything happened. esther was dating rafe's friend kelce, who invited her to the party.

"you're not even gonna talk to me so what's the point in going." you responded, filing your nails while you laid in bed.

"honestly, when's the last time you really went out? you only ever go to the country club and don't say your parents make you because last time you weren't even with your parents."

"well, the old men buy me drinks if i talk to them and make them laugh. sometimes they give me money. one of them gave me this tiffany bracelet." you stuck your wrist out to show off the silver bracelet with the heart tag which was branded with the company's insignia.

"that's kinda gross." esther scrunched her nose. you only shrugged your shoulders.

"so is going to a party at rafe camerons house. jungle juice is probably roofied" rafe had been the stereotypical jock douchebag who only hung out with other jocks, cheerleaders, or other impossibly gorgeous girls. you saw right through him which is why you never caved. not when he invited you to his lunch table, not when he asked you out, not when he tried to grind against you on the dancefloor at junior prom and called you a bitch when you pushed him away. at some point, rafe stopped trying trying with you and turned his attention and "where my hug at?" energy towards other girls who were much more susceptible.

"so we'll pregame. just please don't make me go alone." in a flash, esther sat on top of you and pinned your arms down while a string of "please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top!" tumbled out of her mouth.

"OKAY!" you had enough, but were still giggling. "i'll go, just get off of me so i can change."

"yay!" esther rolled off of you. "wear the black one, the one that makes you look slutty."

"aren't we supposed to be getting you laid?" you asked, looking through your closet that was practically overflowing with expensive name brands.

esther looked down at her hands. "me and kelce already..."

"no way. really?" she nodded and you squealed rushing over to hug her. "babe i'm so proud of you! wait- why do you need me there then?"

"its the first time i'm meeting his friends and i'm nervous." she explained, now looking through your clothes with you. "i need a buffer, yknow, a cute friend who can keep my boyfriends friends occupied."

you blinked. "so basically, you're whoring me out?"

"you just told me that you talk to old men for money and gifts."

"yeah and they don't even get to see me in my little black dress."

when you arrived at the party, it was in full swing. rafe caneron's parties had a reputation. booze flowed, drugs were shared, and there were enough rooms in the house for every couple to get busy in. it was the perfect haven for teen delinquency.

you were unimpressed, as per usual, with rafe's antics. he had been in the pool when you arrived, a girl on either side of him while he smoked a joint.

"how long do i have to stay?"

"until you start enjoying yourself."

you went to the bar. grabbing a red solo cup, you mixed yourself a drink of cherry vodka and coke. you chugged it, always having the attitude that when it came to alcohol you had to get right to the point. when you finished it, you made yourself another one.

"excuse me." a hand gently placed itself on the small of your back which made you jump. "my bad, didn't mean to scare ya- hey you're esthers friend right?" it was topper. "i just saw her with kelce. i'm topper." he stuck his hand out.

"bunny." you took it.

"whatcha got there?"

"chery vodka and coke."

"nah nah nah- you like the cherry vodka?" you nodded and he took your cup from you. "let me make you a drink."

"okay." you watched his every move as he fixed cherry vodka, cranberry juice, and lime in a brand new cup. "thank you. what is this?"

"it's called a cherry bounce. cheers to you, bunny. hopefully this isn't the last time i see you."

you only smiled at him, tight lipped and gently tapped your cup against his before taking a drink. "topper, this is really good. make me another?"

"you're not even done with that one yet." with that, you drank the rest of your cup. "okay, party girl." he took your cup back and fixed you another. "you wanna dance?"

you hated to admit it, but you actually were having a good time with topper. he was funny, kind, nice to look at, and he was a good dancer. the night was going so good, until esther invited you and topper to sesh with her, kelce, and rafe as the party died down.

it wasn't the sesh that was bad, no, you even managed to be polite and sociable with rafe. it was after the sesh when your drinks had caught up with you and you needed to pee. "esther can you show me where the bathroom is?" you asked but it fell on deaf ears as esther and kelce were mouth fucking.

"c'mon. i'll show you." rafe got up and began walking inside the house without another word. you quickly followed, only wanting to relieve your bladder and be alone for a few minutes to gather yourself and your thoughts that were racing on account of the sativa blunt you had just smoked.

rafe walked up the stairs, basically torturing your bladder with every step until he got into his room. "just use this one."

you were too desperate to argue about whatever his intentions were bringing you here so you went in and almost tripped over yourself getting to the toilet. you made it through, no accidents happening and feeling a lot more gone than when you walked up the stairs.

you stepped back into rafes room and he was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. "you okay? you were in there for a while."

"yeah." you stumbled over to sit next to him but he got up and went to his window. "just a little dizzy."

"everyone fell asleep." rafe watched his friends make themselves comfortable on the outside couch on this hot summer night. you climbed over his bed and looked out the window at the sight of your friend asleep on her boyfriend's chest and topper asleep, hugging a pillow.

"do i get a prize?" he cocked his head at you. "for being the last one awake at a rafe cameron party?"

"what do you want?" rafe asked you seriously and you sighed, lying back against his navy blue sheets.

"for you to not be such an asshole." you murmured and stared at the ceiling. "i mean, you're really cute but you ruin it by being... you."

"i knew you had a thing for me." rafe must have only heard half of what you were saying because he was taking his place back next to you on his bed. "c'mere." he patted his lap and it didn't take much more coaxing than that to get you crawling into his lap. he positioned himself the way he wanted you, straddling him with your crotch right on top of his. "been waiting for you to finally come around." he trailed his hands up and down from your waist to your ass. "y'gonna let me inside that pretty pussy babe?" rafe whispered in your ear, sending all your intoxicated arousal straight to your core.

if you had been in a clearer state of mind, you would have never even been in rafe's room, but here you were letting him guide your hips to grind against you through the thin layer of your black lacy panties. your short dress had already ridden up your thighs, exposing you even more than you already were.

unexpectedly, rafe tugged the top of your dress down and leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth. when he grazed his teeth against your sensitive, hardened peak, you gasped and jolted against him. "rafe." you whispered, trying to get his attention because your head was spinning. instead, his hand found a place between your legs and pushed your panties to the side, dragging his fingers through your folds and spreading your wetness. he used it to rub your clit in circles, encouraged by your whimpers in his ear. "oh rafe..." you felt your orgasm building quickly due to your drunken state, but you also felt a pit building in your stomach. this felt wrong.

you blinked and you were on your back. your dress had found a place across your stomach and your panties were torn off of you without your knowledge. you closed your eyes, hoping if he thought you were asleep that he would just stop.

of course, things would not be that simple.

while your eyes were closed, rafe got undressed and slipped a condom over his cock. he grabbed a pillow and placed it under your hips to prop your pussy up for him at the perfect angle. he took his cock and tapped it against your clit. "wake up, sleepy girl." you only whined and tried to close your legs but he forced himself between them so you couldn't.

your eyes snapped open when you felt the intrusion of his cock. "uhhh..." you let out a mixture of a moan and a whine. the stretch burned because no matter how wet you were, rafe was objectively big, especially the mushroom tip of it. you didn't know if it was the liquor, the weed, or what, but you could basically picture what it looked like based on the way it felt inside you.

rafe gave you no time to adjust and set a punishing pace off the bat. he had one of his large hands splayed over your stomach, pushing down and making you let out a short, loud moan. "let me hear you. wanna hear how good i fuck this pussy." rafe grunted while thrusting in and out.

you, in your state, were incredibly embarrassed no matter how good he hit your spots so you were barely letting any noise escape your mouth.

"always playing hard to get... you're gushing around my cock... and making a mess on my sheets... but you still act all stuck up..." rafe spat at you through his teeth and you let out another high pitched whine. he punctuated each word with a hard thrust, his balls now slapping your ass with vigor. "gotta put you in your place, huh?"

he flipped you over and pulled you onto all fours. his hand splayed across your back this time and pushed your chest into the bed, creating a beautiful arch to your back. "so fuckin pretty." he moaned when the slid back into your tight warmth. the change of position did nothing to help you hold onto the little composure you had as he was now deeper than before, mushroom tip generously rubbing against your g-spot and his balls now smacking your clit. you were too far gone to care how you looked throwing your hips back against his. "fucking slut." he grunted, grabbing a handful of your hair. "y'wanted this huh? yeah, yeah, you been needing this huh?"

you could only moan as he painfully gripped your hair and pushed himself balls deep, rolling his hips against yours. "you like the way i fuck you baby?"

"mhm..." you had your eyes closed as you focused on the tension building in your stomach. a heavy hand landed a smack against your ass.

"use your words. you like my cock?"

"i love it..." you desperately moaned out.

"good girl." rafe pushed your head back into the bed and drilled his cock into you brutally. you were struggling to hold your hips up, but rafe held you up with one arm. "fuck... m'gonna cum. y'gonna let me cum in this pussy?" rafe grunted and pulled out, sliding the condom off before thrusting back into you. "there we go." he spoke through gritted teeth. "thatagirl, pussy feels like heaven."

you felt the difference and opened your mouth to protest but all that came out was unintelligible pants and moans.

then you saw white.

your orgasm washed over you, making your pussy clench and flutter and cream around rafes cock. you felt rafes hips stutter against yours and then you felt hot ropes of cum paint your insides. you couldn't stop moaning because rafe was still inside you, slowly thrusting and rubbing your clit. "so fucking tight..." he commented as he watched the way your pussy suctioned his cock and pulled out.

against your knowledge, rafe had been recording since he got you in doggy and was still recording. "shit..." he groaned as he focused the camera on your glistening pussy. a drop of his cum came dribbling out and he pushed it back in, earning a soft "ahhh..." from you. he played with your sensitive cunt until you came again for the camera and passed out.

when you woke up, you were alone. for a brief moment, you hadn't remembered what happened and were just confused as to where you were. you peered around the room and saw your dress and torn panties and it all came rushing back. the drinks, the sesh, having sex with rafe cameron. he must have changed you because you didn't remember putting on one of his shirts or sweats.

you checked your phone and your parents had been blowing you up since 8am. it was noon. you had missed calls from esther and a series of texts that said she couldn't find you in the morning and hopes you made it home safe. "shit." you groaned and got out of bed, legs sore from the sex you could only remember flashes of. you tidied the room up and changed back into your clothes before walking downstairs with your heels in hand. you slowed as you reached the foyer, hearing voices from the parlor.

"i don't know dude, doesn't feel right to watch this."

"she was totally cool with it, c'mon."

"you're gonna wanna see this."

you recognized the voices as topper, rafe, and kelce. then a video began playing and at first it just sounded like porn, then you realized it was your moans streaming through rafes phone.

"you like the way i fuck you?"

"mhm..."

"use your words. you like my cock?"

"i love it..."

"good girl."

you felt sick to your stomach as you heard the boys commenting on the video. how could you be so stupid? of course rafe would record you without permission while you were off your ass last night. you only blamed yourself as you walked home from tannyhill.

the video followed you around over the summer and you only managed to escape it when you went off to college.

rafe never thought twice about you after that.

JACKSONVILLE: Present.

rafe stared at your instagram feed in utter disbelief. he hadn't thought about you or the video since that summer. he honestly forgot it even happened. he wasn't a douchebag, he was a handsome young man who took all the opportunities presented to him (as he told himself). was sending the video around immature and stupid? probably. he was a kid though. everyone makes mistakes, or at least that's what he tried to tell himself as he looked through old pictures of you. did you remember him? you must have. you looked different from the last time he saw you but he looked the same. you definitely knew who he was the second he came into the study room and he didn't know how to feel about that. it made his job easier and harder. he already had a connection with you, but he would have to go through a grueling apology process that he really didn't care for. he just needed to have you.

as he scrolled into the more recent stuff, he couldn't help but notice that you didn't post jj on here at all. the page was a monument to you, all the better, and you were gorgeous on here. 2k followers with 1k likes on every post you made and comments that varied from "you're so gorgeous" to "just give me one chance." you had a highlight titled "my <3" and there was only one picture of you holding jj's hand with the song "melting" by kali uchis which was posted only a month ago.

he left your profile and went into his camera roll, into the hidden folder and scrolled back to 2018. he found the video and pressed play, his cock getting hard immediately and straining against his pants. soon enough, he had his phone pressed to his ear and his hand down his pants as he watched you and kie gathering firewood. soon enough, he was cumming in his hand to the sound of you saying that you loved his cock.

rafe managed to clean up a little and continued to watch you, well into the night as you and your friends built a bonfire and smoked a joint. it was midnight when you all had decided to leave. he followed the dirty old van back to campus and learned where your dorm was, watching you and jj head in.

rafe made it back to his dorm at around 3:30am. the more he learned, the more questions he had. rafe fell asleep with only one thing on his mind.

you.

#rafe cameron x bunny!reader #rafe cameron prompt #dark rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[juyeonszn]

I LOOK BETTER UNDER YOU

PAIRING choi chanhee x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.62k

GENRES smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, TW: LEWIS STRUCTURES/CHEMISTRY TERMS 🤢🤢🤢, academic rivals to something idk, kev and jichang appearances, chanhee is a cocky little shit, vaginal fingering, edging, exhibitionism lowkey, there’s not p in v action but they are in a public space so…. take with that what u will

SUMMARY aside from excelling at literally everything else, choi chanhee was also really fucking good at getting on your last nerve.

MORE my brain hurts LOL anyway fawntober day???? 7 holy fuck that is actually insane… ANYWAY shout out reese for being my beta as always <3 and also shout out @sungbeam for the idea <3 laurv u bestie!!! pls reblog if u enjoyed :)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

You felt stupid. Never in your life had you ever struggled to learn a concept, usually understanding on the first go around. This was the case for a majority of your courses. However, for some reason you just couldn’t quite grasp Lewis Structures in your Chemistry class.

Everything else seemed simple enough, your professor explaining them in a way that made them sound easy. They were anything but. You found yourself stressing over whether or not you could fully comprehend the bonds between atoms in time for your midterm. With the way it was going for you, that hope appeared to get less and less realistic.

“Have you thought about going to tutoring?” Your friend, Kevin, asks as you sit across from each other in one of the library’s study rooms, your chemistry textbook opened up to the section on Lewis Structures.

“I mean, no, I haven’t. I just think they’d judge me, considering I have the second highest GPA in our department.” You huff, scribbling down even more notes on the concept, as if you didn’t already have everything you needed to know. God, being a woman in STEM was so hard.

“That’s your problem,” Kevin rolls his eyes, working on his communications homework simultaneously. “Your ego is too damn big. Maybe if you toned it down a notch and set aside your pride, you’d be able to grow the balls to actually ask for help.”

You’re offended, honestly. Because as much as he was right, he was simultaneously very wrong. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the courage to ask for assistance. It was the fact that your biggest rival was the person in charge of the science department’s tutoring lab. He had the highest GPA in your year and you couldn’t stand the thought of losing to him. Let alone showing your weak side.

Aside from excelling at literally everything else, Choi Chanhee was also really fucking good at getting on your last nerve. You were thankful that he wasn’t in your Chemistry lecture, lest he made fun of you for all the questions you asked pertaining to your struggles. He had a knack for crawling under your skin like a goddamn parasite, doing everything in his power to make sure you never felt a moment of peace as long as he was around.

You hated him. You hated him so much for all of the unnecessary competition and constant need to one-up you in every mutual category possible. You hated his overall overachievement to be better than you, to be above you at all costs. You hated his dumb pretty face.

So how could you turn to tutoring after all of that? It just wasn’t feasible. Kevin wouldn’t get it. He didn’t have an arch nemesis holding him back from success.

“That’s not it at all, Kev. But it’s whatever, I’ll figure this shit out myself.”

You could not figure that shit out by yourself. Midterms were a week and a half away, and you were still ripping your hair out over which structures were more dominant and other things of that nature. This was absolutely humiliating. Perhaps growing up as a gifted kid was the worst thing that could’ve happened to you.

With a frown permanently etched on your face, you glance over at your tablemate’s notes. He had messily scrawled examples of those damn Lewis Structures covering the sheet, eyes flickering back and forth between his notebook and the projector at the front of the lecture hall. Oh how badly you wished to be in his shoes, to decipher everything and anything to do with the dot structures presented to you.

Ji Changmin was by no means a genius. His intelligence levels were above average, but that was still below you. How could he understand this better than you? It made no sense. Then again, he was close friends with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. That had to be the reason why. His friend was practically the Einstein reincarnate.

This meant that you couldn���t even express your difficulties with him either. Chanhee no doubtedly knew that you sat beside his friend. If you asked for his help, it would obviously circle back to him and you’d never hear the end of it. You’d never unhear the taunting voice of Choi Chanhee teasing you for asking Ji Changmin for assistance with fucking Lewis Structures. There really was no winning here.

As the lecture draws to a close and your professor reminds you to study for the fast approaching midterm, Changmin clears his throat beside you with a raised eyebrow. You look at him with thinly concealed surprise. So much for being subtle.

“I saw you looking at my notes,” he snorts. “You know, if you’re having a hard time with this chapter, you should just go to the tutoring lab. I’m assuming you haven’t because Chanhee hasn’t gloated about it yet. But if you were curious, he won’t be there today. He has to go to some meeting for the newspaper. You know that guy’s got like ten different clubs he’s a part of.”

You’re not sure why Ji Changmin would be on your side with this. In fact, it kind of makes you skeptical. You didn’t know how credible he was, so why would you trust this information? For all you knew, he could’ve been attempting to lure you right into a trap. However, despite the bit of laughter he exhibited, he didn’t appear to be lying. You were usually a pretty good judge of character.

That’s how you found yourself showing up to the tutoring lab later that evening.

It was located inside of the STEM building on the fourth floor, along with some of the offices belonging to several professors. You chose to go later at night with the knowledge that most students would be gone by that time. The lab was available for use until 9 PM on weekdays, and it was currently 8 PM.

Your grip on the strap of your bag tightens as you push open the see-through glass door of the lab, grateful for the evident emptiness. Though it also worries you, because there were no tutors around either. Maybe the slowness of a Thursday evening encouraged them to head home early. You decide to wait a few minutes anyway, just in case someone shows up.

That was, unfortunately, a very big mistake. As you’re pulling out your notes and textbook, you hear the low creak of the door opening. You think you might keel over and die when you’re suddenly face to face with The Choi Chanhee.

His lips curl up almost menacingly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well well well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Shut the fuck up,” your teeth grit together. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting or something? Why are you here?”

“Ended early,” he shrugs. “The tutors have a habit of leaving prematurely when I’m not around, so I wanted to see if there was anyone here. Guess it’s my lucky day, huh?”

This dude was a walking headache for real. You were seriously going to walk out of the lab with a migraine if he kept talking like he was so fucking smart. He was, but he didn’t need to know that you thought that. His own ego was large enough without you inflating it even more.

“I’m going home.” You state simply, mouth drawn in a straight line. You didn’t have the patience for his aggravating ass tonight.

“Am I really that horrible that you won’t accept my aid? I heard that you’ve been having problems with Lewis Structures. I may like to joke around, but I’m not really a masochist who likes to watch people suffer,” Chanhee chuckles with a shake of his head. “You’re just so easy to rile up.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, avoiding his piercing gaze. “But fine. If you’re actually gonna help me, I’ll let you just this once. I can’t afford to have this cost me a perfect midterm grade.”

He grins, something that looks conniving. You hate how much more attractive it makes him. You were thankful again for the fact that there were no other students present. It was embarrassing enough to be seen being civil with the worst person in the world.

Chanhee takes the seat beside you, turning it so he’s facing you. You keep your body squared to the table, flipping your textbook to the page on Lewis Structures and preparing a fresh sheet in your notebook. You feel your cheeks warm up with the attention on you, his arms still folded in front of him.

“S-So I don’t get the— um— I don’t— uh— I don’t understand the dominant— the dominant bonds,” your eyes squeeze shut, mortified by the amount of stuttering and fumbling over your words. “How do you— um— how do you determine them?”

He smiles at how cute you are, a shy side of you he’s never seen before. He was so used to you constantly arguing with him, used to you standing your ground and competing with him even when you knew he’d come out on top. He places an arm on the back of your chair, leaning in to read what was in your textbook although he didn’t need to. He just wanted an excuse to get closer to you.

“So you’re gonna want your formal charge to be as close to zero as possible. In order to calculate that, you’ll have to subtract the number of bonds divided by two and the number of electron pairs from the total number of valence electrons per individual atom,” Chanhee explains, pointing at the formula on the page. “How about I give you a couple examples to work on?”

You nod slowly, afraid your voice might betray you again. He jots down a few molecular examples on your notebook, pausing for a moment to nip at his lip and examine you. You blink, a little confused by the action.

“What are you doing?” There’s a slight crack in your tone.

“I have an idea,” he licks his lips. “To make this more rewarding for us both.”

Your brows furrow, his response further perplexing you. One of his hands situates itself on your thigh, your eyes widening. Of all days to wear a skirt, why did you have to choose today? You glance between his face and his hand, lips parted.

“Ch-Chanhee?”

“Yes, pretty?”

You don’t know why the nickname has your upper and lower heartbeats skipping, sweat forming on your palms. You’d always been too preoccupied despising him for being so much better at everything than you were. But right now, his fingers creeping beneath the denim of your skirt, all of that seemed to fly out of the window. You gasp as his fingertips reach the lace of your panties.

“I can make you feel good,” he says into your ear, thumb massaging your thigh. “I can make this worth your while if you do well for me.”

He was giving you fucking whiplash. One second he was teasing you for coming to the tutoring lab, and the next he was trying to coax you into coming quite literally. You think you’re the insane one, however, because you can’t conjure a logical reason to say no.

“Okay,” you breathe, shakily picking up your mechanical pencil. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

You begin to work on the first molecule he wrote out, trying to ignore his slender fingers pushing aside your underwear and rubbing your clit gently. Your bottom lip quivers when his lips make contact with your neck, kissing up and down softly with each circle of his phalanges on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Chanhee presses two fingers inside of your cunt, smiling against your skin when you whimper, nearly dropping your pencil. You fight back tears threatening to spill from your eyes due to lack of reaction, his digits so skilled at working your pussy and looping that knot in your abdomen. Your legs spread wider as you attempt to finish the first example as quickly as possible, so he can knock you over that edge that seems so close now.

“D-Done,” you shiver, lids almost fluttering shut from pure bliss.

Chanhee judges your answer, fingers halting their movements when he recognizes an error. You whine, that taste of sweet release pulled right from under you like a rug. He tsks, kissing your temple as if he hadn’t just denied you an orgasm.

“That’s not the dominant structure. Try again.” He instructs, not continuing until you’ve picked up the pencil and rewrote the Lewis Structure.

You ignore his palm applying pressure to your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of your drooling cunt, lips sucking at the exposed base of your neck, where it meets your shoulder. Your focus zeroes in on completing this structure correctly, rearranging the electron bonds until they’re right. You feel your climax returning when he praises you for getting it this time.

“Such a smart girl,” he murmurs into your collarbone. “Now do the other one.”

He doesn’t stop his assault, increasing the pace of his fingers while you scribble out numbers and draw electron pairs. Your orgasm inches towards you, like a freight train going at full speed. Chanhee curls his middle finger, tripping you up and causing you to write down a wrong number on accident. Ever the perceptive, he relaxes his wrist and retracts his hand, the band in your stomach loosening along with it.

“Please, Chanhee,” you cry, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. “Need to cum so bad.”

“Mm-mm,” he scolds. “Not until you finish the structure properly. C’mon, I know you can be a good girl for me.”

You force yourself to persevere, bottom lip between your teeth when he slips his fingers back into your pussy. Pretending like you weren’t on the cusp of euphoria was making you dizzy, but it was necessary if you wanted to reach it completely. You couldn’t handle a third denial.

Chanhee speeds up his fingers, adding his thumb on your clit for extra stimulation. It was like he did enjoy watching you suffer. Perhaps he really was a masochist. You scrawl the last electron bond of the structure, releasing the pencil from your grasp and throwing your head back with a low whine. He hums in appreciation at a job well done.

“Oh my god,” you moan softly, looking down at where his hand disappears in your skirt. “Feels s-so good.”

“Yeah?” Chanhee goads, peppering kisses on your jaw and nibbling at your pulse point. “Ready to cum for me, pretty? Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You can’t even reply, his cocky voice filling your head as he finally permits your orgasm, walls convulsing and clenching around his digits with a wail. It hasn’t even occurred to you that you’re in a very public, very open space, where anyone could walk in at any given moment. Your brain is too foggy from your overstimulated cunt and the comprehension that Choi Chanhee just fucking fingered you to even consider the consequences of the location.

It only takes a few seconds for you to come to, your body catching up with your head. You look at Chanhee with eyes resembling those of a prey cornered by its predator.

“Why is your hand still inside my skirt?”

“‘S warm down there,” he shrugs with a sly smile. “Besides, I’m not really done with you yet.”

“What are you talking about…?” You trail off, throat dry from how winded this guy was making you.

“You still need some practice before your midterm, no? And I kinda wanna see how pretty you look under me.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz chanhee #the boyz new #tbz chanhee #tbz new #choi chanhee x reader #choi chanhee smut #chanhee x reader #chanhee smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

[boyfhee]

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

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

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

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

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

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

playlist : tune in for better experience hehe

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

— Lee Heeseung, Red Wine

I.  Regret and Remorse

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” Heeseung mumbles. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

II. Don’t be a ‘know it all’ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess I’ll be that,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why me, why not him? 

III. Remember why you broke up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who even are you?

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

Who are you to him?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want to yell at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s too different. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IV. One step at a time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A temporary fix. 

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

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

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

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

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

The next few days pass by rather slowly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, you take your time observing Heeseung, again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I am telling you now,” 

“The night before you’re leaving,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

V. Should you get back with your ex?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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