#anyone else who was in the after life airport

[gojoidyll]

You know the airport scene?

Now imagine that Gojo, Geto, Nanami, and everyone else who was there (and will be going there) finally board one of the planes.

And when they sit in different seats, talking amongst themselves, reminiscing about their life - the pilot starts speaking on the intercom.

"Sup my bitches, this is your captain speaking! You all believed me to still be alive! But as you probably already guessed, Sukuna fr cooked my ass!"

Low-n-behold, it was no one other than you.

"Now, before we take flight up in this hoe, please don't bother strapping in your seat belts, I mean, we're all dead! The fuck do we need seat belts for!?"

Your loud cackling could be heard over the speakers.

Nanami could grip onto the seat for dear life, "what God thought it would be a good idea to let y/n fly a plane in the afterlife?"

"Looks like we're dying again."

"Y/n? I'm surprised they've been alive this whole time," Riko muttered.

"Now! Let's get this show on the road- er, in the sky!"

Gojo could only grin, don't get him wrong, he didn't like the idea of you being dead, but - he had to admit that having Geto and you with him definitely made the afterlife that much better.

[pathologicalreid]

cryptic | S.R.

You and Spencer get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.

who? spencer reid x fem!AFAB!reader category: fluff (hurt/comfort a little bit) content warnings: oh geez. pregnancy, periods, weight, medical inaccuracy, cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, NICU, hospitals, maybe a little ooc i'm not sure, breastfeeding, reader is running solely on oxytocin, crying. word count: 6k a/n: does anyone else have an irrational fear of this? is it just me? that's why i wrote this anyways. also i wrote this MONTHS ago so if it's bad i'm not culpable. (yall voted for unhinged fluff, here it is) anyways i'm calling this part of my "spencer reid dilf agenda".

him

In his work life, Spencer faced fear every day – that was part of the reason he loved life with you so much. The two of you had just moved to your first house together and were still unpacking boxes when he was called away to upstate New York for a case.

You weren’t frustrated with him; you merely kissed him and encouraged him to go save the day.

So, when he told you last night that you must’ve hurt your back trying to move the couch, he didn’t think anything of it. He just told you to rest and to let him know how you were doing in the morning, but when the morning came, there was a break in the case. Spencer had completely forgotten that he was expecting your call.

As the team waited in the police precinct, he didn’t wonder why Hotch answered a phone call and furrowed his brows at Reid until he called him over to talk in private.

For once, his overactive mind went blank when Hotch explained to him that you were in the hospital and that he should call your best friend, Ivy.

In a daze, Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket to find that he had missed two calls from you and thirteen calls from Ivy. Isolating himself in an abandoned office, he looked at your friend’s contact and pressed the call button.

The phone didn’t even have a chance to ring before Ivy answered, “Spencer! Oh my god,” she said, sounding relieved to be hearing from him. “I am so sorry for calling your boss. I pulled his number from Y/N’s contacts – I didn’t know how else to reach you, and I- “

“Ivy, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, teetering between panic and impatience. “She told me she thought he had just pulled a muscle moving,” he explained, wondering what could’ve happened.

On the other end of the call, Ivy took a deep, shaky breath. “She’s okay, but you have to come home,” she whispered, keeping her voice down.

Now he was leaning closer to panic, “Where is she?”

“Northern Virginia Hospital,” Ivy responded. “When you get here, call me, and I’ll bring you to her,” she told him.

Spencer took a deep breath and left the empty office once he ended the call, very nearly running into Hotch, “I need to- “

Holding his hand up in a ‘wait’ gesture, Hotch nodded, “There’s a flight going out, Morgan will drive you to the airport. Don’t worry about anything here,” he instructed him, gesturing over to where Morgan was standing with the keys to one of the SUVs.

After promising to call when he could, a thirty-minute flight, and a ten-minute taxi right, Spencer called Ivy back.

“Hey,” her voice was quiet through the receiver, “are you here?”

He turned around in the lobby of the hospital, “I just came in the front entrance; what wing is she in?” He asked. Which wing would a back injury be in?  He supposed it depended on the severity of the back injury.

She cleared her throat and there was a soft rustling before Ivy answered, “Stay put, I’ll come to you.” Her words came out quickly as if she was trying to prevent him from going looking for her.

Then he began to lean closer to impatience, nonetheless, he waited the couple of minutes that it took for Ivy to come out of an elevator, motioning for Spencer to catch up before they took the elevator back up. “Ivy,” Spencer said, “What is happening?”

“She called me at six this morning, saying that she thought she had pulled a muscle in her back and couldn’t sleep. I told her to take some ibuprofen and try to rest, and if she didn’t feel better by lunch, I’d bring her to urgent care. She called me again at ten and told me something was seriously wrong, but she didn’t know what,” Ivy informed him, her voice sounding distant. “She was crying, and I’ve never heard her sound so scared. So, I called an ambulance and met her here while she was triaged…” Her voice trailed off as they exited the elevator.

Spencer’s heart ached at the thought of you being so scared, but it still didn’t answer his question: What happened?

Ivy sniffled and wiped her nose, “Spencer, have you ever heard of a cryptic pregnancy?”

He stopped in his tracks, eyes as wide as saucers, “She’s pregnant?” His words came out as a whisper, a mix of emotions flurried through him.

Your best friend smiled softly at him, “No, she had a baby. That back pain? She was in labor.”

Questions popped into his head quicker than he could ask him. He took a trembling breath, “Where are they?”

She led him around the corner, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “She’s in postpartum recovery, the baby’s up a floor in the NICU. It all happened really fast; you know? Anyways, they kind of whisked the baby away while saying things about Apgar scores that we didn’t really understand.

They stopped for a moment to get Spencer a visitor’s badge before he motioned for Ivy to continue.

Ivy shrugged in response, “She was kind of inconsolable after that, they gave her something to calm her down, but she keeps asking for you,” Ivy said, stopping outside of a door.

Spencer peeked through the blinds to your room. You’re awake, lying on the white bed, absentmindedly picking at the hospital bracelet around your wrist.

“If you need a minute before going in there, take it. Once you go in there, you need to be strong or brave or whatever,” Ivy instructed, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not saying you can’t be confused or upset, I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m saying she just gave birth unmedicated without ever even knowing she was pregnant, and they haven’t come back with an update,” she said, looking at Spencer like she was assessing a threat.

He nodded in understanding. Maybe when his head was clear he’d thank Ivy for being so protective of you, but he just nodded. “I need to be in there with her,” he insisted.

Ivy acquiesced, letting him know that she was going to go to the house to get clothes and was going to the store. At that point, Spencer had only been half listening to her.

You didn’t move on the bed when he opened the door. He looked at the whiteboard on the wall, his heart clenching when he saw the words ‘Baby Reid’ written below your name. Spencer quietly walked closer to you before he pulled a chair up so that it was at your bedside and took a seat. He could see tear tracks on your cheeks, “Sweetheart,” he whispered.

Your eyes closed, and two more tears streaked down your cheeks. There was an IV in your wrist and your vitals were being monitored. It wasn’t until Spencer leaned over and smoothed your hair back that you really started to cry.

Gently, Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, and you leaned forward into him. He just held you, running a hand up and down your back as he gently shushed you, “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”

“I had a baby,” you rasped, so quietly that Spencer wasn’t sure if you were telling him or trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.

He was quiet for just a moment, letting a few silent tears stream down his own cheeks. “I know,” he murmured, “I’m so proud of you.”

You hummed, leaning back ever so slightly, closing your eyes when Spencer kissed your forehead. “I tried calling you,” you whispered, looking up at him with watery eyes and lifting your hands so that you could wipe away the tears.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” he tried to apologize. There was no way for him to navigate this situation, but if he felt this lost, then he couldn’t begin to fathom how you were feeling.

Shaking your head, you waved off his apology, “Did you catch the bad guy?”

He nodded, smiling at your question, “Yeah, we got him this morning. That’s why I didn’t get your call,” he said as he took your hand and intertwined your fingers. “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten? Do you need water?”

A slight smile grew on your face at his concern, a fact that made his heart soar, “I should probably eat something.” The smile faded quickly, “We should probably talk, right?” You asked, leaning forward in the bed to reach for a pile of papers at the foot of the bed.

Noticing a pained look on your face, Spencer set a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it,” he said, guiding you so you were lying back on the pillows. “Please be careful,” he reached for the papers and handed them to you.

Quickly, you flipped through the stack of papers that was now in your lap. “I’ve been thinking, you know, and they gave me all of these papers with my options, but we have space at the new house. I work from home most of the time anyway, and we can afford it and- “

Spencer cut you off, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Yes,” he whispered against your lips before he kissed them again.

Studying you, he watched as you visibly relaxed into your hospital bed. He followed your gaze as you looked out the window of the hospital room, “Spence,” you breathed as a nurse wearing pink scrubs walked into the room.

She looked at him, “Hello, are you dad?”

Dad. He was a dad. Spencer nodded enthusiastically at the nurse.

“I’ve got these bracelets for you two then, they’re to help keep little families like yours together,” she says, loping the white bracelets around both his and your wrist. “Baby’s got two,” she lets you both know. “So, Baby Reid had a hard time breathing at first, but we up in the NICU cleared some of the amniotic fluid from her lungs and everything is looking much better now. Another nurse is bringing the bassinet now…” her voice trailed off when someone knocked on the door.

He wanted to make sure he had heard the nurse correctly. Did she say ‘her’?

The door opened, and it was the tiny hat with the bow that gave it away. She wriggled on the white sheet in her bassinet, looking around her new surroundings. Spencer looked from you to her and couldn’t help the tears that pricked his eyes. It was an emotion that he couldn’t quite place.

Noticing the way you leaned forward, the nurse spoke, “Would you like to hold her?”

“I- Can I? Is she okay?” You asked nervously, for the first time that day, Spencer heard the fear in your voice.

Nodding, the nurse wheeled the bassinet closer to you, helping you move your hospital gown so that you could do skin-to-skin. As she did so, she talked about bonding with a newborn, but Spencer was so enamored watching you that he wasn’t really listening. “We’re estimating that she’s about thirty-five weeks, so she’s late preterm, but she should be able to go home when you do,” the nurse informed you, making sure you were comfortable holding the baby before she stepped back.

The concept of being in a home surrounded by boxes with a newborn stressed him out, but then the tiny baby on your chest let out a squawk and he returned to just watching the two of you.

Both of the nurses left to give the three of you time, and you turned to Spencer, “What was thirty-five weeks ago?” You asked, gently rubbing your thumb over your newborn’s back.

“Exactly? July sixteenth,” he responded, watching your daughter as her eyes shut. “She fell asleep,” he observed, dropping his voice down to a whisper.

You hummed in response, bending your head down and pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “She needs a name,” you murmured, “we can’t keep calling her baby.”

Spencer leaned over the edge of your bed, “Do you have any ideas?” He asked, even though he already knew you’ve been keeping a list of baby names in your phone for years.

Shrugging ever so slightly, you peered down at your daughter, “All I know is that her last name’s gonna be Reid.” Your eyes flittered up to his, “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll sob, and our daughter is asleep on me, and I don’t want to wake her up.”

“I just love you so much,” he told you softly.

“We can do this, can’t we?” You asked him nervously, narrowing your brows. “She doesn’t have a name. Our house is a disaster. Oh… Spence, we don’t have a car seat. We can’t take her home if we don’t have a car seat.”

Realistically, Spencer knew that you had at least twenty-four hours before you were released from the hospital, maybe forty-eight, given the circumstances. He also knew that you knew this, and he was afraid the events of the day were beginning to take a toll on you. He wasn’t going to say that, instead, he leaned forward and comforted you, “We’ll figure something out, I promise, okay? The name thing we can do.” He encouraged you to take one step at a time, “What about Ivy?”

Your head snapped up, “Really?” You asked, staying conscientious of the newborn on your chest.

“She was there for you through all of this when I couldn’t be,” he shrugged. “Did you know she dug through your contacts on your phone and called Hotch when I didn’t answer?” He watched a small smile tug at your lips, “I just think we should honor her in some way.”

Nodding, a full smile bloomed on your face, “Absolutely.” There was a brief silence, “Do you need to call Hotch? You can step out if you need to. We’re fine alone. I mean just for a little while not for- “

That was the second time you had nearly worked yourself into a panic. Spencer set a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, angel. Don’t stress yourself out, okay? I’ll handle it.” He promised, after all, you had already done the hard work.

You paused and took a deep breath at his encouragement, leaving the both of you in silence while you caught your breath. “What about Eleanor?”

He smiled and looked at your sleeping baby, “It’s perfect,” he whispered.

The first time Eleanor, who had quickly been nicknamed Nell, cried with the two of you in the room was also the first time Spencer held her. He had been too nervous before, not that he’d tell you that, but when her wails started and he saw you wincing as you sat up in the bed, he instinctively picked her up.

He was still in his work clothes. Granted, he had taken off his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt had been undone, but it didn’t seem to bother Nell, the baby had quickly hushed upon contact. “Sit back,” he gently instructed, “Are you in pain?”

You nestled back into the pillows, “Just a little, they said it’s normal.”

Nothing about this was normal, Spencer wanted to say, but he knew you were well aware. He handed you the baby, knowing that it had been two hours since she last ate and that was likely why she was crying. According to the nurses, she was a good eater. He took their word for it.

Spencer watched you rock gently as Nell ate, you were staring off at nothing, so he asked, “What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m wondering why you’re not more freaked out,” you admitted, looking down at the newborn.

He leaned back in the chair, “I don’t know. I work best under pressure and with a little bit of chaos. It’s also highly likely that the entire situation hasn’t fully sunken in yet.”

You nodded understandingly, “It’s a lot to take in. If you think about it, most parents have months to fully prepare and wrap their heads around it. It’s been about ten hours for me. Maybe six hours for you.”

Nodding, Spencer watched intently as Nell fell asleep, her tiny fists falling and quiet coos coming from her. He heard you say something to him, but the words didn’t process. “What?”

Giggling quietly, you cocked your head at him, “Do you want to hold her?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he replied honestly. You seemed like you were taking to parenthood exceedingly well, he was afraid he wouldn’t match up.

In the end, it was your understanding smile that prompted him to agree. “Unbutton your shirt,” you ordered, laughing at him when he looked bewildered. “Skin-to-skin isn’t just for moms, Spence. Besides, I want you to bond. I want her to know who you are even when you’re away for work.”

He obliged your request, undoing his shirt so that he could gently place Nell on his bare chest. She squawked while she was being moved from parent to parent but quieted again as soon as she was being held, “she’s so small,” Spencer remarked, marveling at the tiny creature on top of him.

You nodded sleepily, “Four pounds, fourteen ounces. She had to fit behind my ribcage somehow.”

The oddness of the situation began to find a place in him. Were there changes in you that neither of you had noticed? Your period was always irregular, there was no significant weight change, and even morning sickness had seemed to totally pass you by. “I can’t believe we had no idea,” he murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nell’s head.

“I went to the doctor three months ago for chest pains, do you remember? I took an at-home pregnancy test just in case and it came back negative. The nurses here told me that there’s a less than one percent chance of that happening,” you informed him, slowly starting to mumble.

Spencer looked up at you to find that your eyes were fluttering shut. “You should sleep. I’ve got this.”

You grunted in protest, “but what- “

“No,” he interrupted. “She just ate, she’s sleeping, and you’re exhausted. I can spend some time with her while you sleep.”

Sleepily, you grinned, sliding down on the bed, and settling your head on the pillows, “Daddy’s girl,” you whispered.

He loved the sound of that.

you

You had always known that Spencer Reid was perfect, and as you watched him fall into the role of father, that knowledge became concrete. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and kept your gaze on the two of them, not daring to disturb the peace. Instead, you watched in awe as he held your daughter, softly speaking to her as if she could fully comprehend what he was saying.

For all you knew, she could understand what he was saying. She was Spencer’s kid, after all.

Gently, he whispered to her and one of her little fingers gripped his index finger. “Your palmar reflex lets you hold my finger like that, Nellie. It’ll go away when you’re six months old,” he softly swiped his thumb over her back as he murmured to her. “I don’t usually like surprises,” he admitted to the infant, “but you and your mama might just be the best thing to ever happen to me.”

You grinned, reaching your hand out and touching the green armchair, “I love you.” He reached out a hand to hold yours. “Do you want to try to get some sleep?” You offered. Your body still ached, but getting some sleep had made you feel loads better.

“I don’t think I can,” he answered candidly. “I feel so…”

“Wired? Stressed?” You suggested.

He shrugged slightly, “I was going to say hyperaware, but yes,” he responded.

You wheeled the empty bassinet closer to him, “Set her down. Babies can sense stress. Take a minute, catch your breath,” you told him.

Reluctantly, Spencer placed Nell in the bassinet, adjusting the hat on her head while you watched him. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly.

Your shoulders drooped involuntarily, “When was the last time you slept, love?” After years with Spencer, you know he would go days without sleeping in order to break a case. His lack of a response answered your question well enough. Quickly, you pressed your call button and asked if a nurse could take Nell to the nursery.

Once you made sure the baby was taken care of, you moved over in the hospital bed and patted the open space. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he told you.

That was the problem with Spencer. He would always put you, and now Eleanor, ahead of himself. It made your heart ache. “Spence, this has been the craziest day, and I can tell you haven’t slept. So, get over here and lay down with me,” you instructed.

Rolling his eyes, Spencer kicked off his shoes before lying next to you in the hospital bed, “Do you promise to wake me if you need anything?” He asked as he gingerly pulled you into his arms, afraid of hurting you.

You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“I hate that saying,” Spencer whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your hairline.

Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, “I promise, angel. Get some sleep.”

You startled awake, looking to make sure you didn’t wake Spencer. Your chest ached as you sat up, cringing at the noise your papery hospital gown made. Gingerly, you placed a hand over your heart, feeling the pounding of your heart and listening to the beeping of the monitor, cursing the screen for making so much noise.

This had happened earlier before Spencer arrived, and the doctor had given you something to calm down then.

When you came into the ER, they thought your appendix was bursting, but when they did an ultrasound, they found that you were in active labor. There was no time for an epidural, they didn’t have time to give you anything for the pain. A kind nurse held your hand and quickly explained what was going to happen.

Within thirty minutes, you arrived at the hospital, gave birth, and had your baby taken to the NICU.

It was too fast; your brain was so overwhelmed that it had shut down. It seemed like a ridiculous thought; how did you miss the birth of your daughter?

Hiccupping back a sob, you felt a comforting hand on your back, but the fact that you had woken Spencer up just made you cry harder. He wrapped his arms around you, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s alright,” he cooed, rubbing small circles on your back. “I love you so much, you know that, right? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he comforted you. “It’s okay, it’s just all catching up with you, honey.”

You pulled away, wiping the tears from under your eyes. “It’s okay,” you repeated his words.

“What do you need right now?” He asked, smoothing your hair back. “Do you want to make a list? Do you want to move around?”

Nodding absentmindedly, you watched as Spencer pressed the call button and got up, helping you stand. Your legs shook, and you felt a bit like a foal, but it felt good to be out of bed. You haphazardly finger-combed your hair before stepping into hospital slippers and leaving the room. For now, the nurses instructed you to just walk around the maternity ward.

As the two of you walked around, you made several lists. Things you needed to buy. People you needed to call.

By the time you’d returned to the room, Ivy had returned. Spencer opened the door for you and helped you sit on the end of the bed.

“I’ve come bearing gifts,” Ivy greeted, grinning with bags in her hands. She gestured to a suitcase, “First, clothes for both of you. I just grabbed whatever I thought might be good. Toiletries and stuff too,” she said, rolling the suitcase off to the side. “I grabbed a couple of newborn outfits, but again, I was kind of flying blind. The lady at the department store was extremely helpful.” She handed Spencer a bag of baby clothes. “I got a car seat, the same lady recommended it, she was probably getting a commission, but it’s in my car. I have approximately zero idea how to set it up, but I figured, Spencer has a doctorate in engineering. He can do it.”

You glanced blearily at your best friend, “Ivy, you didn’t have to do all of this. This is too much,” you confessed, holding a tiny onesie in your hand.

She dismissed your insistence with a wave of her hand, “I also got this.” Ivy held out a small stuffed duck. “I know it won’t do her much good now, but I couldn’t help myself.”

After you changed out of your hospital garb, you looked at Spencer, “Go call Hotch, we’ll be good here for a while.” You gestured to your best friend, who was filtering through the suitcase she had packed, trying to find your hairbrush. At your request, he told you he’d also ask the nurse to bring Nell back down so that Ivy could meet her.

Once he was gone, Ivy sat behind you on the bed and brushed through your hair, tucking it out of your face, you were finally beginning to feel a little bit more like yourself by the time she had finished.

You watched intently as the nurse arrived at the door, “Do you want to meet her?”

Ivy nodded enthusiastically, lips parting as she observed the small baby. “Is that her name?” She rasped, looking at the card on the bassinet, Eleanor Ivy Reid. “That’s not funny, don’t joke about stuff like that.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, keeping your voice down as Eleanor slept. “It’s not a joke, and for the record, it was Spence’s idea,” you informed her, reaching into the bassinet, and scooping up the now-swaddled infant. “He’s so grateful that you were there for me, and I am too.”

She smiled, “I’m always going to be here for you two – you three now. Number one babysitter,” she said, pointing to herself. 

You sighed and looked from your friend to your daughter, “She’s got a whole FBI unit of babysitters.”

“I’ll be here when they’re away – when Spencer’s away,” she reminded you, carefully adjusting the hat on the baby in your arms.

The last thing you wanted to think of was Spencer being gone, leaving you to take care of a baby you weren’t ready for.

Ivy must have sensed your nerves, “Hey, you know I’m always in your corner, right?”

You nodded slowly, “It’s just all catching up with me. I have to call my mom. I have to call my boss. How do you retroactively apply for maternity leave?”

“One thing at a time,” she said soothingly. “Right now, just enjoy your time with your perfect little family. I’ll call your mom for you,” she offered. “If your boss gives you any grief, he’ll have to deal with me.” Standing up, she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to go get food, do you two still have the same orders from the deli?”

Confirming with her, you moved so that you could feed Nell, watching her as she looked up at you. “She’s right, you know? You are perfect,” you cupped her head with your hand, looking up to find Spencer watching from the doorway.

“Hotch says congratulations,” he spoke gently, striding over to your bedside and sitting on the edge of the bed. “He also said to let the team know if we needed anything,” he let you know, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He continued to let you know that Hotch had offered to figure out Spencer’s paternity leave, and while you felt bad about giving Hotch something else on his to-do list, it felt nice to have one less thing on yours. 

You nodded, “Ivy’s gonna call my mom, so that’s two things off of our list.”

Spencer squeezed your shoulder, “They asked if they could come to visit, but I didn’t want to answer for you.” He moved back to the armchair, “I just said we’d let them know.”

“At the very least we’ll send a picture,” you murmured. “I’m surprised you’re not researching newborns right now.”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “I asked one of the nurses if I could get access to the hospital library.”

You snorted, “Of course you did.”

No one from the BAU ended up visiting while you were in the hospital, mainly because the idea of too many people in the one hospital room made you anxious, but both you and Eleanor had been cleared to go home. Eventually, you would have to allow visitors.

“Spencer, you can go the speed limit,” you said from the backseat of the car, not taking your eyes off of the baby in her car seat.

He glanced back in the rearview mirror, “This stretch of road is bumpy. I don’t want to wake her.” Despite his anxieties, he was taking to fatherhood remarkably well.

You shook your head, “She’s already awake, babe.” She looked around her new surroundings, spending part of the six hours a day that she was awake going home for the first time. Part of the beauty of a newborn was that they slept for eighteen hours a day, but only in about fifty-minute bursts.

Spencer kept glancing back, and you made a mental note to get a mirror for the rear-facing car seat.

As he turned onto your street, you sat up slightly. “Who’s here?” You asked, looking at the cars in your driveway. You recognized Ivy’s car, but none of the others rang any bells.

“That’s JJ’s car, and that’s Morgan’s truck,” Spencer told you as he pulled into the driveway. Once he got out of the car, he ran around to where you were sitting. He opened the door, taking the car seat out of its base before helping you out of the car. “I had no idea they were here,” he said curiously.

You hummed thoughtfully, looking at Eleanor in her car seat. There was a part of you that felt horrible, you didn’t have anywhere for her to sleep set up. Another part of you knew that she’d be just fine sleeping in your arms while Spencer set something up. “Far be it from the BAU to abandon one of their own in their time of need,” you murmured, stepping through the front door as Spencer held it open for you.

Setting the carrier on the coffee table, you undid the clips so that you could hold the baby. As you lifted her, her legs scrunched up until you held her to your chest, at which point she settled.

“Where are they?” You asked, gently rubbing Nell’s back as she started to fall asleep on you. You peeked around the corner into the kitchen, across the counter, there were bottles set out to dry, along with other various baby things. “Oh, Spence,” you breathed.

There was a distinct lack of boxes in your house, they weren’t entirely unpacked, but there were much less than there had been when you left. A crash from upstairs got both of your attention, Spencer’s arm instinctively going around your waist.

Together, the two of you walked upstairs, finding members of the BAU in one of the rooms that was going to be a guest room setting up a nursery. “Hey?” You said, peeking in through the doorway.

“Oh my god!” Penelope said, “Wait, crap, sleeping baby.” She covered her mouth with her hands, horrified at the idea of disturbing the sleeping infant.

You smiled, looking around suspiciously, “What’s going on here?”

Rossi waved a finger at you, “Your best friend is a drill sergeant is what’s going on here.”

Confused, you turned around to see Ivy with her hands on her hips. “I thought you weren’t coming home until the afternoon,” she explained, “I was going to have them all out of here so you could have a nice peaceful house.”

“You enlisted the BAU to unpack our house?” You asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.

Ivy shrugged, “It started as just asking a question, but we all came to the same conclusion. The two of you were never going to ask for help, so we had to take matters into our own hands.” She wiped her hands on her jeans, “Plus, they have kids, so they actually knew what you needed,” she gestured to JJ and Hotch.

You leaned forward to give her a one-armed hug, keeping yourself mindful of the baby. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Penelope hugging Spencer.

JJ stepped forward, “I’m around. Any questions you have,” she assured you. “How are you feeling?”

Laughing nervously, you looked up at Spencer, “Still reeling.”

The rest of the team laughed too, which brought you some semblance of comfort. “I almost thought you were playing a prank,” Emily confessed.

“No, you definitely thought they were trying to prank us. You didn’t believe them until they sent the picture,” Morgan said, exposing her.

Appalled, Emily rolled her eyes, but you spoke up, “I’m not sure I would have believed us either.” Had you not experienced it firsthand, you definitely would’ve been skeptical. Eleanor was going on two days old, and you had still woken up wondering if it was all some kind of dream.

Spencer had previously told everyone that no one could hold her. He was concerned about germs. You echoed his concerns, just maybe not as strongly. So, instead, everyone just cooed at her until Spencer gently ushered you into your bedroom.

You let out a sigh of relief when you spotted a bassinet set up next to your bed. Gently, you set her down while Spencer pulled the bedding down, “You should rest,” he told you softly.

“Spence, I just spent the majority of the last two days in a bed. I’m tired of bed,” you responded, sitting down on the ledge of the bed.

He hummed in response, “You just had a baby.”

Reaching out, you took his hands in yours, “Moving around will be good for me. I promise not to do anything to tear my stitches. I’ll just show Nell the house.”

“Babies don’t recognize their surroundings until four to six months, so she wouldn’t recognize anything you showed her anyway,” he told you.

You narrowed your eyebrows at him, “Spencer."

He held up his hands in concession, “Right, overbearing.”

“Hey,” you said softly, “We’re still figuring this out, right? So, we’ll take it one step at a time.” You offered, having already had an in-depth discussion about being okay with making mistakes. “Why don’t we go check out the nursery?” You stood up, watching as Spencer carefully picked Nell up, cradling her in his arms.

You led the way into the hallway to find JJ, Morgan, and Ivy finishing the nursery. Morgan and JJ moved the crib to a different side of the room while Ivy placed books on a shelf.

Ever so slightly, you leaned into Spencer, glancing at the sleeping infant in his arms, you reached over and cupped her head with your hand. “This is your family, Nell,” you whispered, smiling when Spencer leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

That was your first lesson in parenthood, it really does take a village.  

please remember to like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

[dailymanners]

Compliment someone on one of their personality traits 

Write a handwritten card to someone to say thanks

Text a friend to share your gratitude for something they did for you

Leave a positive review online of a restaurant you like

Tell a friend what you love about their children

Compliment a photo someone posts on social media

Let someone cut in front of you in line

Introduce two people who you think would get along

Pick up trash on the ground and put it in the garbage

Compliment someone on their clothing or hair

Use old grocery bags to pick up dog poop you see on your neighbor's lawn

Shovel snow off the sidewalk in your neighborhood

Offer to mow the lawn for an elderly neighbor

Give up your seat on the plane to let a couple sit together

Talk to someone at a party that doesn’t seem to know anyone

Invite someone new in your town to a social event and introduce them to everyone

Invite a friend that you haven’t seen in a while out to lunch

Offer to pick up a friend at the airport

Reach out to an old friend to let them know of an experience you had with them that you value

Spend time with the elderly at a local retirement home

Offer to bring someone else's grocery cart back to the store

Keep an extra pen in your purse to give people when they need one

Put a positive note in a library book

Attend events that support your friends’ passions (like an art show, musical performance, etc…)

Donate unused items to charity

Bring snacks to the local fire station

Keep packs of toothpaste or packs of socks in your bag to give to homeless people

Post an uplifting photo on a friend’s social media

Compliment someone on something they’ve done or accomplished

Tell a parent that they’re doing a great job raising their kids

Bring or send your mother flowers

Bring a friend a small gift next time you see them

Buy a warm meal to give to a homeless person

Share an article, event, or other information with someone who might be interested

Help to connect a friend seeking a job to someone who has a job to offer

Help a neighbor bring in their groceries

Make dinner for your friend group

Compliment a neighbor on how nice their yard looks

Bring in the trash bins for your neighbor after trash has been picked up

Send an email to a former teacher to let them know how they impacted your life

Leave a thank you note in your mailbox for your mail carrier

Give a flower to a stranger

Buy a gift card to give to a stranger

Ofter to be there for a friend when they are struggling with something

Give bottles of water to people working outside on a hot day

Buy a sandwich for the next person in the lunch line

Leave a sticky note with a positive note somewhere public, like at a bus stop

Bring brownies to your next neighborhood association meeting

Scrape the ice off the car windshield of the car next to yours

Leave a positive comment on someone else's social media post, #ProsocialPost

Put coins in someone’s parking meter that is about to run out

Slow down to let someone merge in front of you in traffic

Be on time (don’t waste others’ time)

Hold the door open for the person walking behind you

Make a double batch of dinner so that you can give a meal to someone in need

Give directions to someone who is lost

Give an extra big tip when eating out

Practice compassion when someone else is struggling

Be self-compassionate when you’re struggling with something

Share veggies you grow in your garden with friends, neighbors, and family

Become an organ donor

Volunteer at the local animal shelter

Bring dinner to a friend who's just had a baby

Build a “little free library” box in your yard with books for everyone to read

[girlgenius1111]

i'll never leave. never mind.

alexia putellas x reader after the loss of her brother, r tries to deal with her world collapsing. alexia is determined to help her through it, but r doesn't want to drag her girlfriend down with her. some things in life are just too hard to overcome; for r, will this be one of them? angst + fluff. mentions of suicide. basically, a long fic about grief and healing. this is so sad and so long im so sorry. fluff throughout though, because i'm me.

-------

The phone was staring at you, you were sure. Or maybe it was the missed calls from your girlfriend, the dry texts you’d sent her that gave no indication of how you were feeling. You were at the airport, flying back to Barcelona, and Alexia didn’t even know you were coming. Originally, you weren’t supposed to fly back until the weekend. You’d moved your flight up, though, beyond desperate to see Alexia. 

Your perfect girlfriend, who had been checking on you everyday. Who had offered to come to you if you needed her, no matter what it took. You’d been distant, and you knew it. From the moment you’d heard, you’d pulled away from Alexia. It wasn’t what she’d wanted, and it wasn’t what you’d wanted, but there was no choice for you. Everyone else had to come first. 

You were putting everyone else first when you played in the second leg against Chelsea, hours after finding out that your brother was dead. When you flew home right from London, but didn’t let Alexia go with you. When you’d insisted she return to Barcelona with the team, that she couldn’t come with you. When you only called her to say a brief goodnight, only returned her texts to assure her that you were, in fact, okay. 

It would have made her insecure, maybe, if she hadn’t been so sure of what you were doing. Alexia had always been your safe place. The person you were always comfortable crying in front of, the person you told your biggest fears too. Avoiding her meant avoiding feeling. 

You were the oldest, and with that came the responsibility to be strong. For your parents and your other siblings, you had to be the strong one. Alexia had heard from your sister, Bella, that you’d taken care of everything related to the funeral. You’d jumped head first into planning it, barely taking a second to greet your family before you were asking about flower arrangements and eulogies. Bella told Alexia that she hadn’t seen you shed a single tear. You were a shell of yourself, yes, but it was numbness that you radiated, not pain. Not the agony she was sure you were feeling. You had decided that you had to be strong for everyone else, and that meant not feeling any of it. That meant pushing down every emotion, no matter what it took. 

And if anyone understood that, it was Alexia. She had done the same thing when she’d lost her father; held everything together for her sister and her mother. She pretended she was fine. Alexia had held her sister as she cried, and helped her mother cook and clean and plan. She’d been the oldest, and she’d been strong too. 

Alexia had lasted a few weeks, pretending she was okay. Before every emotion she’d ignored spilled out and she broke. Completely and entirely broke. And she knew, very well, that you were headed for the same thing if you didn’t stop pushing everything down.

There wasn’t much she could do from hundreds of miles away, though, so she did her best to text and call you and remind you, every second of every day, that she loved you more than anything. And that she was only a phone call away. Even if you hadn’t been very receptive to these reminders, you’d noticed, and she knew you appreciated them.  

Now, though, sitting in the bustling airport, you were afraid to go home. Afraid to face your girlfriend, whom you’d been practically ignoring. Afraid to face the reality that was regular life without your brother. Afraid to face every dark and painful emotion you’d been ignoring. You pushed and pushed and pushed them away, until you couldn’t really even remember what it felt like to feel. You were numb. And you weren’t sure if you wanted to stay that way or not. 

What you did want, though, was Alexia. You wanted her to hold you, wanted to hear her heartbeat in your ear. Feel her kiss the top of your head, and scratch your back as you fell asleep. So, it was to Barcelona, to home, to Alexia, that you went, 5 full days before you were supposed to. You just needed to work up the guts to tell Alexia that you were coming home. 

------

Alexia made up her mind to fly to you half a dozen times, only to talk herself out of it. She had no idea how you were feeling, how you were doing, other than the very unsettling updates she’d gotten from your sister. She ached to hear your voice and feel your warm body pressed against hers; she was miserable. 

The team had just arrived at Johan for the midweek match when you finally did call her. Shushing everyone dramatically, Alexia rushed out of the room and answered. 

“Hi Ale.” 

“Mi amor.” She sighed, deeply relieved to hear the sound of your voice. You sounded numb and completely unlike yourself, but you were calling her all the same. 

“Hi.” You repeated, a bit weakly. “I just wanted to wish you good luck.” 

Alexia wanted to cry. Your brother's funeral had been today, and still you remembered to call her and wish her luck on a match she was a bit nervous for. “Thank you, amor. How are you? Are you sure I can’t come today after the match? You are there through this weekend, I want to be with you.” 

“No, no it’s okay. I’m at the airport right now, actually. I’ll be home tonight.” You admitted, nibbling on your lip anxiously. 

“You are coming home today? I thought you were going to stay with your family for a bit longer.” Alexia was thrilled, honestly, but still confused. 

“I was, but I changed my mind. It’s been crazy here, I just want to come home.” 

“Okay, amor. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. When do you land?”

“Right before the match ends. I’ll probably beat you home.” 

“I am excited to see you, bebe. I have missed you so much.” The captain told you gently, using the soft voice that she really only used with you. One that was dripping with love. 

“I’ve missed you too.” You whispered. “You have no idea.” 

“Soon though. Soon. I will come home straight after the game.” 

“Thank you, Alexia. For being so understanding and patient, I’m sorry I’ve been weird this week-”

“Do not apologize, please. You have nothing to be sorry for.” She paused, hearing shouts of her name coming from the other room. “I have to go, but I’ll see you soon. So soon.” 

“Bye, Ale. I love you, good luck today.” 

After hanging up, Alexia knew she had to get her head in the game. There was a match to play, a team that needed her. And even if her heart was boarding a plane in England, getting ready to fly back to her, she had to focus. For the next few hours at least. 

------

Alexia was barely through the door before you were crashing into her arms, absolutely launching your body at hers. You were trembling, trying to contain the whine that came from deep in your throat at the feeling of being safe again. The blonde grabbed you fiercely, pulling you into her arms and squeezing tight. You were lifted off the ground briefly, but you barely even registered it, gripping the blonde’s sweatshirt tight in your fists and shoving your face into her shoulder. 

 Alexia had been trying not to be worried this whole time that you didn’t need her, didn’t want her. She knew, logically, why you were acting the way you had been, but she wasn’t immune to doubts and insecurity. Now, though, with you holding onto her for dear life, she knew she’d been ridiculous. 

“My girl. I’ve got you.” She whispered, feeling you nod into her chest. After a minute, Alexia eased you back and took your face in between her hands, trying to get a good look at your face. You looked like you’d lost weight, and like you hadn’t slept in days. Your eyes were cloudy, gazing up at Alexia like you barely knew she was there. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with you now that she had you back with her. You looked so unlike yourself, so out of it. Alexia didn't think she could get anymore worried, but that was before she’d seen you. 

You weren’t crying, just shaking. Just holding onto Alexia like you were afraid if you let go, she’d disappear. 

“I saw your goal.” You said after a minute. 

Alexia smiled gently at you, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “It was for you, and for Wesley.”

You flinched at your brother’s name. At the reminder of what had happened. Any minute you could go without thinking about it was a victory, but when you inevitably remembered, it felt like the weight of the world settled back on your shoulders. 

And it was this weight that prompted what you said next. 

“I think we should take a break.” You said blankly, avoiding the midfielder’s eyes at all cost. 

Alexia was stunned into silence for a minute. A different day, a different Alexia, and she would have shut down. Taken your statement as rejection, and left the apartment without another word. But everything about your body language was screaming to her that you didn't mean it. Still gripping her shirt tightly in your hands, still trembling in her arms, you seemed terrified to allow your girlfriend to help you, and terrified to allow her to go. 

“No.” Alexia said simply. 

“Ale, I can’t do this. I have to deal with this, I don’t- I can’t. Everything is so messed up now. I don’t know what to do, but I can’t put you through this, too. I can’t make you figure this out with me. We should just take a few weeks apart, so I can pull myself together, and you don’t have to worry-”

“Stop. No. You are not putting me through anything. I am committed to you, I love you, and I am not going anywhere. Especially not now. If you think I am going to let you go through this alone, you are crazy. You need me, how could I go?” 

“I… I don’t need you.” You said weakly, as if you hadn’t tackled her in a hug the moment you saw her, as if you weren’t inching closer to her every passing second, like the small amount of space in between the two of you was too much.

“You do. And I know that is scary, but I am not leaving. Let me be here. Please.” 

“I’m not… I’m not okay.” It was barely more than a mumble, but Alexia nodded sympathetically. 

“You are not okay. You don’t need to protect me from that, amor. I can be strong for the both of us. I can be whatever you need me to be.” 

A small whimper fell from your lips before you could stop it. There wasn’t any fight left in you, now, not when Alexia was saying all the right things.  “You’re sure?” 

Alexia pulled you in once more, and tucked your head under her chin. “I am sure.” 

“Okay.” You allowed, leaning back after a moment to place a very gentle kiss on your girlfriend’s cheek. 

Taking your face into her hands, Alexia frowned, her thumb tracing over the dark circles under your eyes. You looked shattered, drained completely of energy. “Amor…” 

“Can we go to sleep, Ale? I’m really tired.” 

Alexia could tell. “Of course. Did you not sleep well while you were gone?” 

“No.” You sighed, before hesitantly continuing. “I barely slept, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to now, but I always sleep better next to you, but I don’t know if you’re tired…”

Alexia nodded enthusiastically. “Whatever you need, amor. You have to eat something first, though.” 

You looked away from her. “I ate at the airport.” 

Alexia hummed, a sinking feeling growing in her chest. “No you didn’t. Do you want to shower while I make you something?” 

You nodded begrudgingly, and Alexia kissed you on the cheek before sending you on your way. 

Dinner was a quiet affair. You came out of the shower looking just as you had before. Numb, broken. Alexia had made your favorite for dinner, and you ate as much as you could, which really, wasn’t much at all. The blonde was just glad to get some food into you. You didn’t really remember Alexia pulling you into the bedroom, or tugging on pajamas that were definitely hers. Suddenly, you were in your bed, head resting against Alexia’s chest, her heartbeat steady in your ear. Suddenly, you were safe again. Safe to feel, safe to hurt. You’d just spent so much time not doing either of those things, that you weren’t really sure how to access the emotions you’d spent days repressing. All you knew was that you didn’t want Alexia to ever let you go. 

“Mi amor, do you want to talk?” Her chest vibrated under you as you spoke. 

“About what?”

“How you are feeling?”

“I’m… coping.” You told her weakly. Alexia’s hand found its way into your hair, carefully running through the wet strands. You sighed quietly, snuggling in closer to your girlfriend, even as you knew she was pushing you to have a conversation you didn't really want to partake in. 

“I do not think you are. I talked to your sister, she is worried about you. I am too. Please, just talk to me.” 

You turned slightly, hiding your face more in Alexia’s shirt. “I don’t know what to say, Ale. I don’t know where to start.” 

She hummed sympathetically. “Can I ask you questions? Would that be easier?” 

And you didn’t want to answer questions, but you knew it was best if you opened up to Alexia, even if it was just a little, so you nodded. 

“How was your flight?” She asked. You cracked a smile at her question, clocking that she was starting off simple to ease you into talking to her. She knew you so well, sometimes it felt like she knew you better than you knew yourself. 

“Alright. I slept for most of it, but I watched some of the match.”  

For the next few minutes, Alexia asked questions about your trip, about your sister’s new haircut that you hated. You wilted slightly when she asked about your other brother, and she picked up on that right away.

“Why did you come home so early?” She wondered. You inhaled deeply, rolling off of her and onto your back. You stared at the ceiling, knowing that the truth would make her angry. Not at you, but angry nonetheless, and you didn’t want that. 

“I missed you a lot.” You murmured, refusing to look her in the eye, even as she rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow facing you. 

“I missed you, too. Every second you were gone.” She promised, gently removing a stray eyelash from the side of your face and holding it out for you to blow away. It was an adorable habit she had, always insisting you make a wish. “There is more, though.”

There was no question in Alexia’s words and you sighed again, nodding slowly. “I got into an argument with Bennett. About Wes. We weren’t really speaking to each other after the funeral and it was so tense in the house, I just had to get out of there.” 

“What did you fight about?” 

A tear slid down your face as you shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about that, please.” 

“Okay bebé.” Alexia wiped the tear away with her thumb, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your eye, as if to soothe your tears. She pulled the covers of the bed higher, desperately trying to make you more comfortable as you suddenly looked to be in agonizing pain. “Did your parents and your sister choose sides?” 

Alexia knew your family well enough to know how an argument would go. Normally, your sister and your older brother would easily agree with your parents, regardless of the topic. And your parents always took their side. Bella and Bennett were twins, the golden children, and it was clear for anyone to see that your parents treated them differently. Without Wes around to mediate, Alexia was sure that you would have been all alone in whatever you were fighting about, and she knew how much you despised conflict. 

Bottom lip wobbling pathetically, you nodded. “Yeah. They all agreed with Ben. None of them… none of them were really talking to me when I left. Bella felt bad, but my parents didn’t say goodbye when I left for the airport.” 

The midfielders stomach twisted at that, knowing how desperately you sought your parents praise and approval. For them to let you fly back across the continent without even a goodbye, after losing their son, after you lost your brother, was cruel. “I am so sorry, amor. That isn’t fair.” 

“I feel like everyone is mad at me.” You whispered, linking your fingers with Alexia’s. 

“I am not mad at you.” Alexia replied, leaning in against to kiss the corner of your mouth. “You are my favorite person in the world, and I am not mad at you. Does that feel better?” 

“Yeah.” You told her, finally shifting to look up at her face. Another few tears slipped down your face and you took a shaky breath. “I want this to all be some horrible nightmare. I want to wake up and find out he’s still here. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.” 

“What do you feel?” Alexia asked again, still not letting a single tear make it off your face before she swiped it away. 

This time, you answered her. 

“Everything hurts.” 

“I know.” She whispered, doing her best to pull you closer into her body. 

“I feel like… like I'm broken. Like I'm suffocating. Like I will never feel whole again. I am empty. And I am so fucking sad but I can’t feel it. I can’t make myself feel it. It’s there, locked away, and all I can do is sit. And think. And wish I was dead instead of him.” The last sentence was barely audible, but Alexia heard it clearly. 

She shut her eyes tightly, wrapping her arms tighter around you, as if that would make it better. “Please do not say that.” 

“He called me. That night, he called me and I declined the call. Because we had a match the next day. And now he's dead, and it is my fault.” You admitted, feeling simultaneously like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders at your confession, but another weight added on with the knowledge that your girlfriend would not know exactly what kind of awful person you were. 

But Alexia was Alexia, and she didn’t even flinch at your words. She simply pressed a kiss to your temple and said the words you’d been aching to hear. Words you wanted to believe, words you were scared you never would. “You could not have known, that is not your fault.”

You looked up at her, trying to gauge the sincerity of what she was saying, and found only overwhelming love in her eyes. It was too much. It was love you didn’t deserve. Not when this was your fault. You had never been more convinced in your life than in that moment that you didn't’ deserve Alexia. Her love, her care, her affection, her perfection. She was wholly too good for you. “I don’t even know how you can look at me right now, Ale.”

Your girlfriend shook her head, stunned that you would think such a thing. That you would expect her to blame you for something that was not your fault. Her touch was delicate as she pushed a lock of hair away from your forehead and it was too kind. Too soft. 

You yanked yourself out of her arms, even if it felt like you were ripping your heart out of your chest in doing so. With no destination in mind, you walked away from the bed and tried to leave the room, but Alexia grabbed you first. 

“My love.” She murmured, drawing you into a tight embrace. Alexia very rarely used terms of endearment for you that weren’t in spanish. She only did so when she wanted you to hear what she was saying, clearly. Her hands were insistent on your face, tilting it up so that you could only look into her warm hazel eyes. There was nothing but adoration on her face, and you were sure you didn’t deserve it.  “I can look at you because I love you. More than anything in this world, I love you. What happened is not your fault.” 

You shook your head pathetically, but your movements were stilled by Alexia’s strong hands on either side of your face. 

“It is not your fault.” She insisted. “And I cannot imagine what you are feeling right now, but I will always be kind to you. Even when you are not being kind to yourself.”

You shut your eyes tightly, desperately trying not to cry. Pitching forward, you pressed your face into Ale’s chest, unable to resist the peace and comfort that she provided. She shushed you softly, raining kisses down onto the top of your head. 

“It hurts, Ale,” you whimpered. 

Alexia held you tighter.

“I know, bebé. This is so hard, mi amor, I know that. But you will get through this. We will get through this together. I will not leave your side for a single second, do you understand? I love you. You are going to be okay.” 

Without even being aware that Alexia was moving you, you suddenly found yourself back on the bed, sitting sideways across your girlfriend’s lap. She was always so gentle. So kind. And you didn’t deserve it, you knew that. But the thought of having to go through this without her was overwhelming, devastating. You fought against the urge to cry, terrified that if you let go, she would leave. 

“I can’t do this without you,” you whimpered, holding tightly to her shirt and pressing your face into her neck. You could feel her nod from there, and you settled a bit, especially as her grip on you was tight and unrelenting. 

“You will not have to. I am here with you, mi amor. Right here with you.” She promised, shifting to wrap one arm around your midsection and cradle the back of your head with her other hand. 

“I-I… I can’t,” you stuttered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat even as it constricted tighter and tighter and you knew your efforts would be futile. 

“It is alright, bebé. You can cry. I am right here.” She affirmed again. 

A choked sob fell from your lips as you finally gave in, as the tidal wave of emotion you’d been running from finally caught up to you. It dragged you under the surface over and over, until you could hardly breathe. Until there was nothing else in the room with you but despair. 

You cried for your brother, for who he was and who he would never become. 

For yourself. Because you didn’t answer the phone, but also because you knew deep in your soul that answering would not have changed anything. 

You cried for your siblings, for your parents. Who were so destroyed that they sought out something, someone to blame. Even though they landed on you, even though you needed them. They needed you, but differently. They needed to blame you. It had to be your fault, or it might be theirs. 

You cried for Alexia, because you knew you had put her through hell the past week, and it would only continue. You cried because she was perfect and because you loved her. You cried because she loved you. 

You cried for the first time since hearing about what had happened. You cried for sweet, sweet Wes, who deserved better from everyone in his life. You included, but not only you. 

You cried because it felt like a part of you was dead, too. 

The part that was still alive, though, forced you to listen. To Alexia’s steady heartbeat, and the soft words she whispered. To her reminders to breathe, and her reminders that she loved you. If what you were feeling was a tsunami, Alexia was the high ground that would keep you safe. Keep you alive. 

You clung to that safety, that security. Without her, you might have drifted off. Not to sleep, but away. You’d never have to find out, though. Because Alexia wasn’t going anywhere. Not when you cried, not when you couldn’t breathe, not when you couldn’t speak. She’d bring you back to her every time. Because she loved you. And it didn't matter that you weren’t sure you were deserving of her love. She loved you anyway. 

Once your cries had slowed to pitiful sniffles, the midfielder laid you down carefully next to her, curling her body around yours. You were engulfed in her arms, and the soft blankets on the bed, a safe little cocoon. Alexia couldn’t tell if your eyes were half shut because they were swollen from crying, or if you were exhausted. Probably both. 

Her finger traced little shapes over your cheek as she whispered to you. “Sleep mi amor. I’ve got you. You are safe, and you are okay. Just relax.” 

Her eyes were locked on yours, encouraging you to give in and let yourself rest. Her words, too, felt like a very convincing drug, and you were letting your cheek rest against her chest before you knew it, letting the repetitive beating of her heart lull you to sleep. 

-----

You slept solidly, for the first time in a week. Straight through the night, no interruptions. Well, until morning came, and then you were awoken by quiet crunching. You stretched a bit, not yet ready to open your eyes, but aware from the amount of sun in the room that it was late morning. The crunching stopped as soon as you moved, and you quickly realized you were not curled up against your girlfriend, like you normally slept. Rolling over, you squinted your eyes open and saw Alexia looking guilty down at you, a handful of granola in her hand frozen halfway to her mouth. 

“Sorry.” She whispered. 

It wasn’t really that funny, but you found yourself giggling to yourself, until Alexia started laughing with you. 

“You had to get the crunchiest thing in the kitchen?” You questioned, barely getting the words out through your laughter.. She shook her head at you, putting the bag of granola down and pulling you into her arms. 

“I was going for what would leave the most crumbs in the sheets.” She said cheerily, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“You are so dumb.” You chuckled, sighing comfortably back in her embrace. 

“I am smart.” Alexia declared, before she turned slightly serious. “You can sleep more if you need, bonita. It is 11:30, but we do not have anything we need to do today.” 

“No, it’s okay. I should get up.” 

“Thank god. I am starving and you make better breakfast than I do.” 

You fought a smile, finding the effort she was putting in to make you laugh quite endearing. “You could have woken me if you were hungry. Or gone and gotten something to eat.” Your attempt to slide out of bed was halted by Alexia’s grip tightening around you, her voice soft in your ear. 

“No, you needed to rest. And you were holding on to me in your sleep. I did not want to leave you for long.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No, no apologies. You need me, I am here. If you need me to lay in bed and cuddle you for half the day, I am more than happy to do that.” She said it so earnestly, you almost felt like crying. 

“Ale, you know I love you, right? More than anything?” 

She nodded, shifting you in her arms to be able to press her forehead to yours. “And I love you. More than all the stars in the sky.” 

You gave her a watery smile, gently pecking her lips with yours. “That is very corny.” 

“There are no ways to tell you how I love you without being corny. You will just have to get used to it.” Alexia whispered, connecting her lips with yours again. It was soft and loving, reflecting everything she’d just said to you. Alexia always made sure to tell you what she felt about you, as well as show you. She was perfect in that way. 

-----

Your words from the previous evening hung between you both like a dark cloud. Alexia was doing her best to treat you normally, you could tell. She didn’t want to hover, but she was filled to the brim with worry for you. So, you took the first step, and brought it up while the two of you were making breakfast.

Clearing your throat, you focused on carefully cutting up the fruit, sure that if you kept yourself slightly distracted, you wouldn’t get too upset.“Last night. What I said…” 

“What did you say?” Alexia asked casually, though you could feel her eyes burning into the back of your head from the opposite counter.  

“I said that I wished I-”

“I remember.” Alexia cut you off not unkindly, abandoning the coffee she was making in favor of walking to you and wrapping her arms around your abdomen. Her chin perched itself on your shoulder, and you leaned back into her, letting your eyes flutter shut. 

“I didn’t mean it.” You told her. Her silence told you she was skeptical, and she should have been. “Okay, I did mean it. But I would never do anything stupid, okay? I would never… do what he did. I am upset and I am hurting but I know… know that I can be okay again. I think.” 

All the tension left your girlfriend’s body, and you were only aware of how stressed she had been once she relaxed. She sagged into you, burying her face in the crook of your neck and nodding rapidly. “Good. Good. I love you. So much.” You moved to return to chopping your fruit, but the blonde took the knife from your hand and set it down, before spinning you to face her. She was completely serious as she addressed you. “If you ever felt like that,” 

“Alexia, I am not going to...” You let the sentence fade out, inhaling deeply again before you continued. “I wouldn’t do that to you, or to my family, I wouldn’t be that-” 

You cut yourself off, shaking your head. Alexia didn’t let you pull out of her grasp like you wanted to, studying your face closely. 

“You are angry with him, sí?” Alexia asked carefully. She was too perceptive for her own good sometimes. 

“Yeah.” Admitting it felt like a betrayal. 

“That is okay. You can be angry.” 

You weren’t convinced and Alexia ached to make you understand that your feelings, whatever they were, were valid. Still, she knew when to push and when not to, so she let it go. For now.

With a soft kiss on your lips, she nudged you back to the fruit, whining dramatically that she was hungry. Alexia could always make a situation light hearted again with just a few words, and that was something you realized you hadn’t appreciated enough until now. 

-----

Alexia’s brain hurt from thinking. Around and around in circles, wishing she could convince herself she was wrong about the conclusion she had come to. You were sitting in between her legs on the couch, half watching the football match on TV, half enjoying the way Alexia’s fingers played with your hair. She couldn’t stop thinking about the fight you’d said you had with your brother, and what it could have been about. How bad it could have been for you to leave home early, for your parents not to be speaking to you, especially after everything that had happened. Alexia thought and thought and thought until she couldn’t take it anymore, and then she just asked. 

“Can I ask you something?” The blonde murmured, finishing the braid she was twisting your hair into, only to take it out and start again. 

Her hands playing with your hair was ridiculously soothing, and you only hummed in response.

“The fight with your brother? Was that about Wes calling you that night?” 

All the work Alexia had done to get your body to relax was undone as soon as the words left her mouth. Your shoulders scrunched back up, and you went back to picking at your cuticles. You’d already made a few nails bleed this morning, and your girlfriend sighed internally as you another one began to bleed, too. 

“Yes. I didn’t tell them right away, but my dad went through Wes’ phone and that was the last call he made.” Your voice broke, and Alexia abandoned your hair in favor of pulling you into her, your back to her front. “He asked me about it, and Ben just… freaked out.” 

“What did Bennett say?” She wondered, pulling each of your hands into hers in an effort to stop the damage you were inflicting on your nails. 

“He said I should have answered. That is wasn’t enough that I left the country for football, left Wes behind, but I ignored his call even though family is supposed to be the most important thing. And that he blames me. He said that if I had answered, Wes would be alive.” 

“What did your parents say?” 

“They agreed with Ben. Said I shouldn’t come home until I decide to start putting my family first. My dad said…” Again, you trailed off. This time, it was because you weren’t sure you had the strength to repeat what had been said to you. 

“Tell me, baby.” Alexia encouraged, hoping that if she held you tight enough, the pain would leave you alone for a while. 

“He said it was my fault his son was dead, and if there was any justice in the world it would have been me instead.” You whispered, Alexia’s sharp intake of air closely mirroring what your reaction had been. “I moved my flight after that. I still had to go to the funeral, but I wanted to leave as soon as I could.” 

It was overwhelming, everything your girlfriend was feeling, and she couldn’t even imagine the turmoil you were in at the moment. The urge to call your father and give him a piece of her mind was almost as strong as the urge to wrap you up in a blanket against her and never let anyone hurt you again. Almost. 

“Mi preciosa, he is wrong. That is not true. Your brother never would have wanted you to blame yourself. He loved you so much, and he knew you loved him too. He would be angry if he knew how everyone was treating you. Amor, you know this, right?” 

Your shrug was not good enough for Alexia.

“This was not your fault. It is not on you. You are a good person, and an incredible sister. Your parents and Bennett, they are hurting, but they should not have said the things they have said.  It hurts them that this happened out of their control, and they just want someone to blame. It is not fair that it is you, amor, but they are wrong. They are so, so wrong.” 

“I want to believe that.” You replied, hanging onto her every word even if it felt like everything she was saying was much too generous to you. “I just don’t know how to.” 

Alexia nodded, her lips finding your cheek in a gentle peck. “I will remind you every day, until you believe it. You are good, you are loved, and this was not your fault.” She repeated herself, and you shut your eyes, trying to force the reassurances to seep into your brain, and hopefully stay there. 

When you opened your eyes again, turning slightly so you could see her face, you believed her just a bit more. Bit by bit, Alexia would convince you. Just like she’d convinced you that she loved you. Like she’d convinced you to let her start putting some of her clothes in your half of the closet, and that cappuccinos were better than lattes.  She was persuasive, your Alexia. Unrelenting, determined, and persuasive. When she set her mind on something, she didn’t give up. It was this tendency of hers that had you almost convinced that you’d survive this. Even if it was the hardest thing you’d ever do, Alexia would get you through it. 

“What have I done to deserve you?” You murmured, looking up at her with something close to awe on your face. 

“You did not have to do anything. I love you. You deserve to be loved.” Alexia replied easily. She didn’t think twice before she spoke. It wouldn’t ever not surprise you how easily, how fully, Alexia loved you, and that was okay. You never wanted Alexia’s love to grow mundane, or unsurprising. You wanted the force of her love to always knock you off your feet, just a little. Because you were pretty sure the force of your love for her would always be overpowering, too. 

-------

this was so dialogue heavy and im not sure i don't think it's awful and too depressing, so thanks for sticking around to the end if you did :)

not... opposed to a part 2 honestly. i have a little part written about alexia trying to deal with r's grief, while also finding it to be such a harsh reminder of her own experience. but i'm not sure what else it would be, or if anyone would want it anyway so. give me your thoughts :)

[lcriedlastnight]

Friends to lovers with Lando

"Who's the most beautiful person you've seen?"

"The one that's asking the question."

"What?"

"What."

teehee, this one made me giggle! thanks anon!

tw: fem!reader, swears, idek let me know if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.1k

"it's a mate date!" your voice echos throughout the hallway of yours and your roommates flat. you and lando had just recently become friends and he had so kindly suggested that on his next day off you should both head out on a 'mate date' as he had called it.

"what the fuck is a mate date?" your roommate asks as she potters around in the kitchen. "surely you wouldn't be putting that much effort in for a mate date?".

her questions stuns you for a second. it seriously makes you stop in your tracks, one hand paused halfway through trying to put in your prettiest pair of earrings. okay, maybe you had a little crush on lando but you were not mentioning it, to him or anyone else for that matter. you knew it would either blow up in your face or you would ruin the blossoming friendship between you and lando.

you kick back into action and head back through to the kitchen to meet your roommate, bag in hand as you give her a twirl so she can evaluate your outfit. you get an enthusiastic reply from her once you are still again.

"is it a crime to want to look good when i leave the house. i don't get to do it as often as i want so when i do i'm gonna go all out." you tell her with a stern tone. is looking good for your crush too extreme these days??

after you were one hundred percent sure you were ready to leave you shoot lando a text, telling him you were on your way to the little cafe you both had decided on a few nights prior. it was this cutesy little french inspired place. the only issue was that it was in monaco. you did not live in monaco, neither were you actually in the country right now. lando, being well lando, had offered to fly you out just for the occasion. as he had said to you over text a week ago 'i'm desperate to see you again'. of course it was only a platonic desperation to see you, you had told yourself as you made your way to the airport. you did not really want to go on a plane in your date outfit and makeup but you really had no choice as lando had near enough forced you on that plane.

the journey was not too long and by the time you had landed at the airport lando was waiting for you. a denim jacket on and a lovely bunch of fresh, pink tulips. you were not too sure how lando knew what your favourite flower was but you sure as hell were not complaining.

"hey! you look lovely!" lando greets, warm smile gracing his tanned face. you roll your eyes as he pushed the flowers forward for you to grasp. you sling your tote bag over your shoulder as you take them from him.

"shut up, i've just come off a flight. you are laying on the charm thick today." you respond. lando laughs a little then motions for you to follow him out and into the car waiting outside.

"the cafe isn't too far from here but i didn't wanna make you walk there." lando drives his open-roofed car along the streets of monaco and you barely take in anything he says to you the whole drive there, even though it was barely a ten minute drive. the scenery around you was simple gorgeous and you did not think that you had ever seen anything as stunning in your entire life. you were completely mesmerised. and so was lando, but for a completely different reason.

once you both arrive outside the cafe, lando is quick to speed around the bonnet of the car to open your door for you. it makes you smile so it was completely worth the bruise lando is sure will form tomorrow once you have gone back home. a nice little reminder of the day, lando had thought to himself as he takes your arm and leads you inside the cafe.

lando had offered to order your drink for you as you waited at your table. once lando had returned with your drinks he gives you yours and sits down opposite you.

you both make small talk with each other as you catch up. you had both been texting pretty much everyday but there was just some things that just had to be told in person. you both end up asking each other wild questions. lando had just asked you "what is the highest amount of bagels you could eat in a day?" and after you had both had a pretty heated discussion about whether or not you could actually manage the twenty-six that you had answered, it was your turn to ask.

"okay this is gonna sound pretty childish, like it's so high school." you laugh into your white mug. "but i have to know."

lando smirks at you. "oh you just have to know?" he teases.

"i do. who's the most beautiful person you've ever seen?" your eyes trail over his features as you ask, knowing your own answer already.

"the girl that's asking the question." lando replies instantly. no hesitation. no stopping to think about it. he answered as if he had known the answer before you had even asked the question.

your brows raise in surprise as you question him. "what?".

"what."

you are both just sitting staring at each other for a second or two in silence. lando regretting not thinking before he spoke and answered your question. there was no way he had not just fucked up the budding friendship between the two of you. you regretting even asking the question. there was no way lando could mean that anyway, he was so obviously laying it on thick because he had caught wind of your pathetic little crush. how? you had no idea.

"look-"

"did you-"

you both start talking at the same time, an awkward little laugh falling between the both of you. lando clears his throat and tells you to go first.

"did you- do you mean that?" you ask, not even hesitating to ask him.

lando is so quick to nod. "of course i did. i really like you. i know it kinda messes up whatever kinda friendship we have going on right now." lando's hand rubs the back of his neck in a nervous action. your grin eases his nerves though.

"hm, i guess i don't really mind messing this up." lando smiles and you really think you have made the best decision of your life.

[shdysders]

last kiss

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which you and tara truly had your last kiss.

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: this song is fully based on last kiss by taylor swift. also sorry for bad update and shit writing, i’m currently not feeling motivated for it.

"I love you."

Those were the three words you had whispered into Tara's ear, with your soothing and mellifluous voice.

It had been late. 1:38 to be exact. You couldn't fall asleep, although you thought Tara was. Whispering in her ear and kissing her cheek, being completely unaware of the fact that she hadn't yet to doze off either.

She had tried her hardest not to let the huge smile spread across her face. You had whispered the words for just the two of you to know.

Later that night, Tara had opened her eyes, feeling the need to see your features once again before drifting off. You'd looked so tranquil, peaceful. Your face lit through the darkness like a radiant moon, casting a gentle glow all around.

You told Tara you loved her.

So why did you leave? Go away?

It was not until now Tara remembered the time when you had reunited with her after sixteen long weeks apart. The sixteen weeks of Tara's school semester, who had felt like an eternity.

She recalled the smell of the rain, the sound of the drops hitting the hood of her rain jacket, and the fresh downpour on the pavement.

You had stayed up the entire night, just to get to the airport just in time so Tara wouldn't have to wait when she landed. July ninth.

Tara had ran of the plane just to see you, sprinted towards you the second she saw your sneakers on the concrete floor of the arrival hall. She jumped onto you, embraced you in a bone crushing strength you didn't know she had.

She remembered the smell of your floral scented perfume in her nostrils, and the way she felt your heart jumping through the material of your hoodie. She could still feel your arms around her sometimes.

Now she didn't have anyone to sprint towards after she'd gotten off a plane.

The only way she could feel your smell now was when she wore your clothes, the garments that you had left at her house and then forgotten.

Tara put on your clothes almost every day, sitting on the floor of her room, letting the smell of the different fabrics bring her to a happier place; the memories with you.

She thought about how much she missed you all the time. Although she was unsure if you ever thought of her.

Tara felt unsure of everything. She didn't know if the split between the two of you was the cause of it, or if it was all of the betrayals from previous events. But she did know that the only thing she was certain of was that she didn't know how to be someone you missed.

She knew you didn't miss her, but that didn't stop her from trying to figure out how to get you to yearn for her. As much as she did for you.

Was the key to get a new partner? Or post stuff that showed she was happier than ever? What could possibly make you want her again?

Something else Tara thought about constantly, was your last kiss. The last kiss she never thought the two of you would have. She thought you would spent the rest of your life alongside one another.

She had never thought about her relationship with you ending nor taking a drastic turn, but when it did come across her mind one time, she'd never imagined that it would happen like this.

She never planned on kissing Chad.

It wasn't on purpose. Of course it wasn't.

She would never intentionally do something to hurt you. Never.

But she had done it anyway. She had tried to blame it on the alcohol that she had poured into her body minutes before, but she was very aware that wouldn't get her anywhere.

Because the truth was; Tara didn't have a reason behind it, not at all.

She had asked herself the question over and over again; why she had done it, knowing that was the first question you'd ask her when she told you. But she couldn't come up with a proper answer.

Tara had felt out of place for months. She had felt this longing for comfort and validation. She knew that if she talked to you about it and expressed how she felt, you would've erased that feeling. Oh how she wished she had went to you to begin with.

She didn't know why she didn't.

Tara knew she could trust you. She knew she could trust you like a lighthouse guiding her through stormy seas.

Yet her mind told her something was wrong. She was fighting a battle with herself at that point,

the internal battle being between what she knew was right and the temporary relief she sought.

She felt disgusted with herself for sleeping with Chad. They had known each other ever since birth, and she thought that might've ruined their friendship for all eternity, however that wasn't the relationship she was worried about ruining.

The relationship she was worried about destroying was with the person's name she had accidentally moaned out.

Your name.

It was always on her lips.

Even when she tried to enjoy herself with other men, all she could find herself thinking about was you.

You'd forever be the name on her lips, no matter how hard she tried.

As she looked back on your time together, she couldn't help but remember the swing of your step. The way you moved with such grace and confidence. Each stride carried a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her heart.

You were the life of the party, always showing off, whether it was in beer pong or in dancing, you loved dancing. You would always pull Tara onto the dance floor just so she would join you, and she would roll her eyes for it.

Tara wasn't much for dancing, she'd never liked it and was never going to. But for you, she did dance. She danced like nobody was watching, and she never seemed to regret it, because it always made you beam with a smile.

She'd do anything to watch you smile. She'd do anything to be with you again.

Because she loved the way you greeted Sam with a gentle handshake whenever you joined them for dinner. She loved the way you walked with your hands in your pockets.

How you'd kiss her when she was in the middle of saying something. She'd always end up kissing back, and she never complained, yet she still called it rude interruptions, and there wasn't a day she didn't miss them.

She'd do anything to experience that again.

The only experiences with you she had now, was the ones she tried to relive with your clothes on her body. When she would sit on her floor, pressed into a corner of the four walled room, either sobbing or just thinking about you, and how she didn't know if you ever wasted a thought on her.

She was now watching your life in pictures as regularly as she used to watch you sleep.

You slept over at her house almost every night, and on every occasion Tara would lay in front of you for hours, just admiring your features and relaxed face. She never told you about it, but now she wished she did.

She could feel you starting to forget her, as often as she used to feel you breath. Whenever you embraced her as you slept, she made sure to keep count your breaths and the amount of seconds between them, like they were about to stop if she didn't count.

They never stopped. Luckily. But she stopped hearing them after she'd told you the truth. About what she had done with Chad. She never got to hug you again after that, or count your heartbeats.

Tara tried to keep up with your old mutual friends as often as she could, asking them how you were doing. She always received short answers, politely short answers.

She could tell they wanted nothing to do with her. Same as you wanted nothing to do with her, Chad or even Mindy.

You would occasionally greet Mindy in the corridors, never even bothering to look at Tara or Chad, which was understandable, but that didn't stop the jealousy from flooding through Tara's veins from the sight.

She hoped you were doing well. She hoped it was nice where you were. Wherever you were. Whoever you were with.

She hoped that some day, when the sun would shine and it'd be a beautiful day, that you'd be reminded of something about her, and that'd you wish you had stayed. For whatever reason.

She hoped that at some point, you'd think back to the last kiss you shared, that you would change your mind, and that you'd want to come back to her.

Just so everything could be the way it was. The way she ruined.

[cherriegyuu]

midnight rain | lsm

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

Letter #1

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it was trauma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I just…"

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

Letter #2

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

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

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

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

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

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

He had no idea.

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

"What? You’re leaving today?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #3

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s really you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you recommend?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

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

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

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your question?"

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

Seokmin took a deep breath and seemed to think about what to say next, his eyes no longer on the microphone, but on the ceiling.

“And why does he think that about you? You probably gave him reasons, don't you think? I don’t think anyone would think that about someone without anything having happened.”

“I always dreamed of studying abroad, so when the opportunity came, I went. I…"

“Did you tell him you were going?” Seokmin clenched his fists on the desk, his fingers gripped the pen in his hand tightly until his knuckles were white. “Did you give him a chance to say something or did you just walk away?”

You were speechless, eyes focused only on Seokmin. The way his hair perfectly framed his face, his sculpted thin nose. He was still exactly like he was seven years ago, just somehow different. He was the same, but he also wasn't.

You hadn't given him the chance to say anything, you had just walked away, but because you believed it was the best thing to do. You would have stayed if he had asked, I would have aborted all of your plans for him,

“Long distance relationships don’t work” you said finally, your voice lower “especially when there’s an ocean separating people”

“I'm going to guess and say that you were together for a while because I don't think anyone would care that much about a quick relationship” his voice became more sober, completely in control of his emotions, the opposite of what you felt,  like you were enclosed every second that passed “I agree with you, long-distance relationships don’t work. Different cities are already complicated, I can't imagine what it would be like to be with someone who lives in another country. You didn't give many details, but I believe he had reasons to feel that way, just as you had your reasons for leaving without warning. I think the best thing for both of you is to let it fall into oblivion. It makes no sense for either of you to dwell on these feelings. Maybe your desire to talk exists because you think you've left things open with him, but he may think that what's in the past shouldn't be remembered. Maybe you're just a bad relationship he wants to forget.”

Letter #5

Seokmin

I found out by chance that you now have your own radio show. One day it was an empty slot in the schedule and the next it was your voice. To my joy and delight, it was one of those programs that also had video streaming. I say joy and delight in a very ironic way.

But I'm not lying when I say I'm happy for you. You always said it was your dream and in a way, here we are, achieving our dreams. It would have been better if we could have lived through this together, I think. Maybe if that were the case I wouldn't have this empty feeling inside my chest.

But I discovered a long time ago that I can't keep crying over spilled milk. I left and you moved on with your life. They were conscious choices, I knew what I was doing. I knew that making this choice would have hurt both of us, but I also knew that we could overcome it. It's just taking longer than expected. I honestly thought that by this point, so many years later, we would have been able to live as if the past were just that, the past.

But it's not like that for me or for you.

I may be completely crazy, but your show is about love advice and how to deal with heartbreak. Sometimes, when I hear you talk, I'm sure you've already dealt with all your feelings, after all, you've had other girlfriends. But there are other moments, when you answer a question or when you read one of the pre-written texts when I'm sure that what you said applies directly to what we both had.

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

It's been four years since I left. I already finished my master's degree and started my PhD, exactly as planned. I have a date tonight with a guy who seems genuinely nice, but here I am, writing yet another letter that will never be sent to the guy I was in love with.

What am I still doing?

yn

Seokmin had always believed that for a relationship to truly end there must be no trace of it anywhere. When he told his listeners that they should get rid of items, it was not a lie. He was just terrible at following his own advice. The old story of do as I say, not as I do.

Finally, he decided it was time to take his own advice. With a little pain and resentment added to the mix, of course. At this point, he wondered if he could already be considered a masochist or if he still had a few boxes to tick to get the title.

Getting your address had been easier than expected. All he had to do was ask Niah, who offered the information without any resistance.

“Being thirty didn't make either of you any smarter,” she said as she leaned across the table and wrote the address on the napkin.

“Almost thirty” he felt the need to correct her, but decided he would ignore the hidden message in her words.

Seokmin never stopped going to Niah's restaurant. It was there that he had cried his sorrows over the cheapest drinks possible, he didn't have the money to pay for the good ones, while Joshua tried to console him. He had never seen Niah so stressed and angry. She hadn't said anything, but you could clearly hear the sound of her cutting the vegetables more aggressively than necessary.

Little by little she became calmer about the situation and started talking about you with the same affection as before. Seokmin always thought she had somehow kept in touch with you, or at least found a way to get your number or a way to contact you. At first, he had been angry, but somehow he believed he didn't have that right. It was only after a year that Seokmin decided to ask and the answer he received was “if I still had contact with her, I would have already screamed at her about disappearing without telling anyone”.

Asking Niah for your address was the only option he had. He refused to go to college, where you worked. He didn't know what would happen, whether you would be friendly with each other or the conversation would end in a shouting match just because. Because after years of no contact and considering the way things ended, it was pretty obvious that resentment could resurface — at least Seokmin had resentment up to his neck and knew that not releasing them all at once required almost inhuman self-control. 

He looked at the building one more time before getting out of the car. It was one of those without a doorman. Seokmin knew that if he rang and asked to be let in, the probability of being sent to hell was very high. So he pulled up his cap down and covered as much of his face as he could while he balanced the boxes on his arms.

He stood there like a madman for almost twenty minutes until someone finally left the building. Seokmin felt like he was committing a crime when he slipped through the door before it closed. Even though the feeling was strange he made himself believe it was the only option he had and he really didn't have any bad intentions. He just wanted to return your things and, hopefully, arrange that if you ever met again, you’d simply pretend you don't know each other, instead of talking nonsense to each other.

Seokmin took a deep breath once before knocking on the door. He heard footsteps and a second later the door opened.

When you imagined what your Wednesday night would be like, the only option that crossed your mind was to order a pizza and watch a movie — the random option of Netflix seemed like your best friend and the only possible option because you weren't even able to choose what to watch by yourself.

Not even in your wildest daydreams could you have imagined that Seokmin would show up at your door with two boxes in his hand.

You were partially tempted to close the door on his face, but you knew that doing so would only make the whole situation worse. If Seokmin, who clearly didn't have any good feelings about you, was standing there at your door it was because he had something to say. Or more precisely to hand it over to you, considering the boxes in his arms.

Silently you stepped aside so he had enough room to enter. You wanted to slap yourself for the complete war zone that your living room was in. You were still unpacking the moving boxes, not that you had taken much with you. It was too expensive to send things from one country to another, especially furniture. You had only focused on your clothes and books and a few things you wanted to keep, and that alone was more than you were willing to spend. In addition to the boxes, you had all the things you still had to buy, but you still didn't have the mind to do it.

You had so much going through your head that cleaning the apartment was just another task you wanted to avoid. But it was one that could be left for later. In the few minutes that Seokmin spent there, you wished you had tidied it up, that he hadn't seen how that room represented your life at that moment: a complete mess.

"What are you doing here?" you finally asked when you managed to get your vocal cords to work properly.

Seokmin didn't seem to care about the mess but paid attention to everything else around him.

He placed the boxes on the counter and took off his cap, pressing the brims with his fingertips looking for what to say next. He had rehearsed an almost poetic speech in the car, something about being adults and how your relationship had ended a long time ago, so neither of you should have any regrets left. But the moment you opened the door and looked at him it was as if all the words had simply evaporated from his mind, as if he had never learned to speak in the first place.

It had always been that way with you. Sometimes when he looked at you, even when you were still together, he got lost. He was like a man adrift who had finally found solid land. It was as if he heard a click and the world started to move once again.

One of his favorite things, when you were dating and living together, was being able to come home after an exhausting day and see you sitting on the sofa in the living room, your computer on your lap, while you studied, occasionally shouting profanities at the computer. On those days, Seokmin would simply push the computer away and lay his head on your lap.

“Just five minutes” he used to say with his eyes closed.

You’d laugh, fingers immediately running through his hair, as if it was the most natural movement in the world.

“Who do you want me to insult today? You know my vocabulary is very colorful.”

How many times had he slept in that position, without meaning to, and you had to drag him to bed because “it's comfortable for you, but my legs are numb and you have to take a shower, you won't sleep dirty next to me, sir”.

It was impossible not to wonder where it all went wrong.

“I came to return your things” he pointed at the boxes.

You suppressed the urge to bend down and rummage through the boxes. You wanted to know what he had kept, what he considered important enough to keep for so many years. You knew he no longer lived in the apartment you shared. When you were looking for apartments you saw that that one was up for rent. It was necessary to restrain yourself from choosing it. It wasn't a good apartment, at least not at the time — the photos on the website said the property had undergone renovations two years earlier and had no tenants since. It wasn't big, it barely fit one person, but it was what your extremely limited budget could afford at the time. Somehow you and Seokmin turned that small space into a home full of life. Of love.

In the places where you lived, you bought all kinds of trinkets to fill the space, furniture you didn't need and never used, hoping to imitate, for even a second, the feeling you had in that little 35 square meter apartment.

You never quite managed to do that.

“Thank you” you said sincerely “I thought all my things had gone in the trash”

You laughed and Seokmin squeezed the back of his head and pointed at the boxes.

“I sold what I could, I didn't want to put it in storage because I really thought we would never see each other again. The money is in an envelope”

“Why did you keep all this?” the words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself “You should have thrown it away or, since you sold it, you should have spent the money”

Seokmin had asked himself that question several times before, sober or not, and he never had an answer. After a while, he simply stopped questioning and accepted it as something he had to do, to have some kind of sanity. It didn’t. Knowing that those boxes were inside his wardrobe, having to go through them the two times he moved, only brought back memories that he would like to forget.

Ever since you had seen each other again for the first time, memories that Seokmin had struggled to bury came to the surface as if they had just happened. He started to dream about you, dreams that range from memories to things that never actually happened, he started to wonder if it would be okay to talk with someone. His brain always screamed NO, so he was stuck just dreaming.

“I don’t have a good enough reason. It is what it is, I guess,” he said.

The last time Seokmin felt so embarrassed around you was right when you met and even then it only lasted a few minutes. The 18 year old Seokmin was much braver than the 29 year old man in front of him.

That boy, without any guilt or remorse, would have asked every question that could cross his mind. You’d say “your mind is beautiful, it even echoes sometimes”. Seokmin wanted to still have some of that boy's strength. Maybe that was the only way to know what he wanted. He wouldn't ask and he knew you wouldn't offer the information to him without being pressured.

“I think in the end, we both got what we wanted.”

You realized you said the wrong thing when you looked at Seokmin’s hands. A second before he was clutching his cap until his knuckles turned white, the next his long fingers were still. You didn't want to see the expression on his face. You knew what you’d find. You messed up, but couldn’t take back what you said.

“You got what you wanted” Seokmin corrected you, his voice firm, his tone hard.

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

“No, I wanted you. I could adapt to everything else if it meant I would have you.”

You shook your head. You knew it wasn't true. Hell, even Seokmin knew it wasn’t true. The first time you talked, Seokmin mentioned how much he wanted to be a radio host and have his own show, of any kind. I don't have a preference, I know I can give anything my own colors. You felt envious of his certainty, of the way he knew he could do it.

“The show has always been your dream” you tried again, despite knowing it was in vain to argue with him.

“My dream was to have a life by your side. You never, not once, told me that you signed up to study abroad, you never even mentioned it. When it was time to go you just got on a plane and disappeared. You never even gave me the chance to follow you. I could have been a journalist anywhere in the world”

Seokmin hated the direction of that conversation, hated being so exposed in front of you after so many years. In the past, it wasn't a problem. Before he wanted to be exposed in front of you, he wanted to share everything he was, every aspect of himself with you. No more. The problem was that he couldn't just stop. A gate was opened and there was no way to close it.

“So, what? Would we both be living based on our dreams? Because this is a dream, and you know it very well.”

You clung to the top rail of the chair, your head lolling forward in an almost futile attempt to stop him from seeing the tears forming in your eyes. You knew you couldn't hold them.

You weren't the type of person who cried often, you did what you could to avoid it, but when the tears came it was impossible to simply stop them from falling.

“Yeah, maybe I was really dreaming, because I believed that you loved me in the same proportion, but it’s quite obvious that you didn’t”

Seven years of pent-up frustration couldn't just disappear, he should have known. He should have imagined that going there would be a problem, that being in the same space as you without any kind of interference was a mistake. But he was still there and there was no way to escape. It was better to end everything quickly than to keep those feelings for another seven years in the hopes of one day being able to say something.

Seokmin watched as you went to one of the boxes in the corner of the room and opened it forcefully, tearing the cardboard, and causing some of the contents to slide across the floor. He felt his body freeze as a roll of film stopped at his feet.

“So explain to me, why do I buy a roll of film every time I pass by a store?” you put both hands inside the box and took out several rolls of film, of different brands and models. “Explain to me, why have I followed your career all this time and never missed a damn show in the last 3 years? Why would I wake up in the middle of the night to watch the broadcast and then listen to the show again while going to work because I just wanted to hear your voice?”

You walked to another box, but you opened this one a little more carefully as if wanting to protect the contents.

“Why did I spend 7 years writing letters that would never be read to a guy I never loved?”

You threw several envelopes at Seokmin’s chest. Your face and body shook out of anger or another feeling he couldn't quite tell.

Seokmin bent down to pick up one of the envelopes from the floor. His name was written in your careful handwriting. He didn't need to look at all the other ones to know that they were also addressed to him. He didn't know how many letters were scattered on the floor, or if there were any left in the box. The only thing he was sure of was that he had no idea how to proceed.

“If that doesn’t say I loved you, if that doesn’t say I still love you, I don’t know what the fuck does.”

Seokmin saw the first tear run down your face and fell silent. He knew he should turn his back, he knew he should walk away, just like you did seven years before. Instead, he took four steps in your direction, his eyes never left your heaving chest and the tears that ran freely over your cheeks. 

At that moment he knew that he only had two options: he could turn around and leave, he gave you back your things that alone made his plan a success; or he could kiss you like he had been wanting to since the moment he saw you again.

To hell with his plan.

Seokmin held your face in his hands and pulled you to him, crashing his lips on yours. It was an all too new feeling but also familiar, almost like coming to a remodeled home. It was him and it was you, if only it was just that simple. 

You sighed into him, your arms wrapping around his slim waist while your hand balled a fist full of his shirt. There were so many moments where you wished you could be right in that spot, again in his arms. Dreams and daydreams, wishful thinking, whatever you could call it. Thoughts of Seokmin had always been a constant in your mind. It was impossible not to compare other people you went out with to him. 

Your longest relationship had been one of almost a full year. Although the beginning had been good and easy, with you somehow managing to avoid any and all Seokmin related dreams and thoughts, it turned sour the second he crossed your mind.

“Seokmin, I…”

He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes so intense that it was difficult to keep looking at him. 

“Let’s not overthink it, okay?” was all he said. 

You held his face for a couple, searching for something in his features, anything at all, that could indicate that the moment wasn’t for that. But all you saw in him was the same emotions you felt, the same need and desire. 

You pulled Seokmin to you again, this time hungrier, your chest pressed to his. Your mind was loud telling you all the reasons why you shouldn’t be doing that, why having him so close to you was truly the most dangerous situation you could possibly put yourself in. But all of those voices, all of those words and thoughts were silenced the moment he kissed you again. 

His lips were hungry, demanding all of you. And it was so easy to just give in to him, to his hands roaming on your body, down your back until he reached your ass. He gave it a light squeeze and ran his hand back up again, this time under your shirt. You moaned softly at the contact of his skin on yours, as he kissed your neck, bitting on the exact same spot he found years before. 

He smiled over your skin. 

“At least this hasn’t changed”

It was all too much but not nearly enough. Just having him that close to you was dizzying enough but him touching you and enjoying the fact that you were just as weak for him at twenty nine made you never want to let go of him again.

“Where’s your room?”

You took Seokmin by the hand, guiding him through the narrow corridor. 

Your room was barely a room to begin with. You had no furniture except for the mattress lying on the floor, your clothes were either on the suitcase or on the chair on the side. 

“This is unlike you” Seokmin said, his chest pressed to your back while he nibbled on the skin of your neck. 

“I… hm… I” you sturred a little when he bit into a particularly sensitive spot, making him chuckle “I’m waiting on delivery”

Seokmin turned you around in his arms while lightly pushing you down on the mattress. His eyes never left yours as he ran his hand under your shirt, moving the fabric up until your chest was exposed. 

It had been so long since you had been with anyone, it was almost like a reflex to want to pull your shirt back down. Since him, it had been hard to just let yourself be exposed to someone like that. You had become awfully aware of your body and things you never cared for or paid attention to before suddenly became worries. You didn't like that insecure version of yourself but when Seokmin cupped your breast in his hand his touch was almost solemn. 

It was probably the worst timing in the world when you felt tears burn on the back of your eyes. You pulled his face to yours again, trying to hide your tears from him once again. 

Suddenly, his touch was tender when he pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers careful. 

Seokmin moved down on your body. When you saw his fingers on the waistband of shorts you lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him move the fabric down quicker. 

He kissed your hips and inner thigh. You moaned in anticipation, your hand taking a fist full of his soft hair. When his lips finally found your clit it was like fireworks erupted behind your closed eyelids.

Seokmin was impossibly hard in his pants, embarrassingly so like he was a teenager having his first time. 

He never thought that he would have you in his arms again and yet there you were in front of him, no reservations. Just for him. And for a moment it was like his brain was in short circuit, the small electric waves running all over his body, down to his toes. 

He licked a path from your cunt to your clit. He went down on you almost in desperation, his nose brushing on your clit every now and then. 

"Seokmin..." his name was barely a whisper in your lips, but it was also a chant. 

Your orgasm hits you quickly, leaving you short of air and with shaky legs. You were spiraling in the most enticing way possible. It didn't stop Seokmin though as he kept sucking you frantically. 

You tugged on his hair, pulling him up and to you again. 

I love you,  the words almost fell out of your lips. It would have been so easy to just say them, to be open about your feelings just this once. 

Deep down you knew that that moment would be a one time kind of thing. It was just the kind of moment people sometimes needed to just completely let go of everything. Or in this case, nothing. It was to let go of seven years of complete nothingness and silence.

You opened the button of his jeans and pushed it down, his boxers following along. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him a couple of times. Realization suddenly came over you. You never expected Seokmin to show up to your place, much less that it would lead to that moment, and there wasn't anyone else in your life, so you weren't ready for it. 

"I don't have a condom" you said breathlessly.

Seokmin looked lost for a second, his brain going to his wallet, questioning whether or not he had one in him. 

"I can pull out," he said "if that's okay"

All you did was nod and Seokmin aligned himself with your hole. He pushed in slowly, savoring each moment when your pussy pulled him in until there was no space between the two of you. 

Seokmin kissed you again to give himself time to adjust to you squeezing him. You held his face close to yours, in your eyes a mix of emotions he didn't want to understand. Not in that moment at least.

"I don't want anyone else," you said looking into his eyes, your thumb running over his bottom lip "No one else can make me feel the way you do"

To hell with care and self-preservation. You let go of those the moment you opened the door for him, the moment you let him into your home, the moment you didn't push him away when he kissed you. 

Seokmin fucks you slowly, his pace torturous as you beg and beg for more. He intertwined his fingers with yours and held one of your hands above your head while the other one held your hips in place. 

"Seokmin... harder"

And it's like a switch has gone off inside his brain. His once slow pace becomes shallow. The sound of your breaths and his skin slapping against yours were the only ones heard, echoing through the empty room. 

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, catching you so off guard you scream because it's too much. 

You pushed Seokmin away and watched in ecstasy as he wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand working fast as your name left his lips when his release fell on the sheet by your side. 

Seokmin dropped his body over yours again, his forehead on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over his hair. 

"I love you" you allowed yourself to say, even if it meant nothing to him. 

Letter #6

Seokmin,

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm coming home. Or the closest thing I still have to a home. Needless to say, my mother is happy with the news. She's been tormenting me for years, asking me to come back, but since I set foot here I decided I wasn't going back.

I wanted to, but I wouldn't go back.

Every time I thought about going back, the first thing that came into my head was the last image I had of you. Your teary eyes wishing me a safe flight, saying I love you and hope you accomplish everything you want. I regretted it the moment I gave my things away and handed my passport into the hand of the airline girl. I should have come back, I should have given up, but I couldn't. That old story of putting myself first and second, you know how it goes. In this case, my entire top 10 was just different versions of me.

I think I actually felt scared because as time went by, little by little without me realizing it right away, you became a very big part of my life. A part that could change everything. I felt like I depended on you too much. It wasn't fair to you or me.

We were only 22, Seokmin. When we were so young, we thought that life was conquered and today I know that is not the case. Far from it. At 22 I had a degree and worked part-time at a cafe to pay the bills, just like you.

You might think I'm selfish, I'm sure you do based on the things you say on your show. I was selfish and on some level, I don't regret it. I did what I always planned to do, what I always wanted to do. And now I'm coming home.

Part of me wants to run and find you, explain why I made the decisions I did, why I never told you. But I know you won't want to listen to me. I wouldn't want to listen to me either. Why would I listen to someone who left just like that? It really wouldn't make sense.

But another part, this one a little more rational, says that I shouldn't throw salt into the wound after so many years have gone by. I have the scar here, hidden enough for no one to see, but prominent enough for me to remember what I did every single day.

I think that's what I'm going to do. I think that's what I have to do. It wouldn't be fair to just show up in front of you and say “hi, I'm back” after seven years.

You have become a big “what if” for me. What if I had stayed? Would we have stayed together or would our relationship have ended years ago? What if I had told you what I was doing while I was doing it? Would you have asked me to stay? What if I had given the possibility of a long-distance relationship? Would we have worked out or would you start to resent me for leaving and end up hurting each other anyway?

The most absurd thing is that I still like you, I'm still in love with you. I've always heard that distance makes love end or something like that. I haven't seen you in seven years, I don't know what's going on in your life — you're really good at hiding everything being a celebrity now — so it doesn't make any sense that my feelings haven't changed even after all this time. This guy I see online might not be the Seokmin I fell in love with, just like I'm not the same person you remember.

Every time I hear your voice I still feel butterflies in my stomach. I sleep and dream about you. When I wake up I think about you and I wonder if you think about me too. It is not normal. It's not healthy. Life went on and I think it is our obligation to move forward together. We are not a museum to only feed on the past.

Let's continue as we are now, what do you think? We will once again be in the same country, in the same city, but I think it's best for both of us to pretend that nothing will change. It's a huge city, what are the chances of us meeting?

yn

Before you even opened your eyes, you already knew what you would find. Or who you wouldn't find. You knew the space next to you on the mattress would be empty. You had noticed the exact moment Seokmin had gotten up, but you forced yourself to believe that he had just gone to the bathroom. You had kept your eyes closed and had somehow gone back to sleep.

You had been naive to think that the night had changed something, that the way everything seemed like it would be fine was an indication that things had finally gotten back on track. If any, the train simply ended up derailing.

When Seokmin kissed you it was magical, no matter how cliché and teenage it may sound. It was as if the world had fallen into place again, as if you had finally returned home after being away for so long. You couldn't help but wonder if that was why you'd taken the job, in the foolish, unconscious hope that there might be a chance, however slight, of being with him again.

You forced yourself to sit up and pulled the sheet up to cover your naked body. The shirt and shorts you wore the night before were next to you on the floor, but you refused to wear those clothes, opting to rummage through the boxes in the corner of the room looking for clean ones.

You didn't want to go to the living room, didn't want to be mocked by the two boxes that Seokmin had left on the counter, but you couldn't help it. It was as if your feet had a life of their own. When you realized it, you were already sitting on the living room floor with the two boxes in front of you.

You momentarily decided to ignore the smaller black box and pulled the large one closer. The first thing you saw was the envelope Seokmin mentioned the night before. Money, especially the one in the envelope, wasn't something you were going to worry about. You didn't care about it, you didn't lie when you told him that he should have spent it. That money would remain untouched.

There were also a few books you read and made annotations on, two stuffed animals, and all the picture frames you had left behind.

One of the things you regretted the most was not taking with you when you left were photos of you and Seokmin. You had only taken one, which was folded inside your wallet. It was already so old and worn out that it had almost turned to dust, but you would never get it out. It was you and Seokmin at Niah's old restaurant, he was smiling at the camera while you looked at him. It was your favorite picture.

At the bottom of the box was the camera you had given Seokmin as a birthday present a few months before you left. You had saved whatever money you could for months to buy him the camera he wanted, one that he always talked about and whenever you passed by a store you stood outside looking at it, almost as if it would magically appear in his hands.

You understood his reasons for leaving the camera there — or, at least, the reasons you could imagine—but you wished he had kept using it. Not because it was a gift from you, but because it was something he wanted. His smile was so big when you gave it to him, the tip of his nose slightly pointed down because of it.

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

The smaller box, for some reason, was scary. It was light and black, and you could hear its contents moving as you held it in your hands. You took one last deep breath and removed the lid.

Inside were photos you had never seen before. Photos of you alone, Seokmin wasn't in any of them. In none of them were you posing or smiling directly at the camera.

Most of them had been taken from a distance, without you noticing. In some you were inside the cafe where you worked, smiling at customers and serving tables, in others you were simply walking down the street, looking through window shops and pointing at something. Seokmin had taken countless photos of you without you even realizing it.

It was strange to see yourself through his eyes, even if it was a version of you that no longer existed. A much younger and more optimistic version. Did I smile that much? you couldn't help but ask. You never saw yourself as particularly optimistic or constantly smiling. You were happy, that's undeniable, but you didn't know that's how people saw you.

There were so many photos, from completely different moments, both from the beginning of your relationship with Seokmin, and from all the phases you went through together.

Behind the pictures were the post-its that you left around the apartment, reminding Seokmin of somewhere you had together or simply saying that you loved him. So many had a simple “I love you” written on them, others said “have a good day today!”.

You had no idea he had kept them. You always thought that once read, they were discarded, but there they were, intact as if you had just written them.

The very first one you had ever written, when you had just started dating, was also there. At the time, unlike Seokmin who never had a hard time expressing how he felt, it was almost impossible for you to be openly honest. So you wrote it on a post-it and stuck it inside one of his notebooks. He had shown up at the dorm a few hours after you left the library.

“Say it again, but this time looking at me”

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

You laughed when Seokmin wrapped his arms around you, squeezing a little, trapping your arms close to your body. His face was very close to yours.

“What you wrote in the note” he said softly, his cheek pressed against yours “Say it again, please”

The truth was that you had loved Seokmin, in a way you didn't believe was possible and maybe that was why you spent the last seven years writing letters to him.

Seokmin never left your mind, not truly. There was always a desire, even if veiled, to return home, to find out how he was, to just say “I know I messed up, I’m sorry”.

It was that desire that made your entire body go cold as you took one last item out of the box. A smaller box that fit in the palm of your hand. You knew what it was before you even opened it and opening it was the worst choice at that moment. Your heart, which was already broken, somehow managed to break even more, into a billion, shiny, new pieces.

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

When the first sob echoed through the living room, you didn't try to hold it back, you just accepted the feeling of being absolutely lost and heartbroken.

The weather outside the building seemed to mimic the way you had felt in the last few weeks, torrential rain that had no end in sight. You watched the news hoping for an improvement, hoping that the rain would stop for at least a few hours, but it seemed like a distant dream.

All your students were already gone and there was nothing left for you to do. The handed in assignments were graded and the tests were ready to be applied the following week. You had never hated yourself so much for simply doing your job. You wanted to be, at least for that day, like other teachers who left corrections until the last possible second and left students desperate for their grades.

The hallway was in complete silence, a clear sign that everyone had left already. And you had already waited hours for the rain to stop, until the sky was completely dark, and if anything the rain had only gotten worse.

You sighed and picked up your bag from the chair. You wouldn't risk taking any books, papers, or documents home, the possibility of everything getting ruined was too big. Besides, you needed a rest, at that point it was well deserved.

Ever since you had opened the boxes Seokmin left behind, you had immersed yourself in work in every way possible. You had accepted all of the dean's requests and even offered to teach extra classes whenever there was a missing professor.

And even so, even though you had more work than you wanted, you still found time to look at all of his social media. You still listened to all his programs, even listened to the old ones before going to sleep.

It was almost like a form of elaborate torture done solely and exclusively with you in mind. And worst of all, it was self-inflicted. It was as if your brain liked it, begged for it.

The box with the engagement ring was next to your pseudo bed. It was the last thing you saw before going to sleep and the first thing you saw when you woke up. Instead of spending hours on your phone, you sat there, staring at the small box.

You hadn't dared to open it again. You had never felt so lost as you did that day, looking at that ring.

You wouldn't be a hypocrite to say that you had never imagined your life if you had married Seokmin, but before it was nothing more than a daydream. The ring made that dream an attainable reality. It had been in your hands and you just walked away.

A curse left your lips when you noticed that the umbrella you had used that morning was missing from the umbrella holder next to the door.

“Great, that’s exactly what I needed” you muttered, slamming the door shut behind you.

You were tired, exhausted to tell the truth. All you wanted was to get home, take a shower, and watch some relationship reality show, to escape the tragedy that was your own love life.

You closed your eyes and sighed as you reached the entrance. The next bus stop or subway station was at least a 15 minute walk away. That was a problem that existed when you went to school there, everything was far away. One would think that they would do something to improve that, but one would be wrong.

You thought about taking shelter in the nearest coffee shop, but you knew it was almost closing time. You wouldn't be the person who forces employees to stay late, not when you had worked at that exact coffee shop years ago.

Even with your heavy coat covering most of your body, the rain was cold on your back and it was hard to see anything ahead, even if it was just a few steps away. Even the sound of cars was muffled by the rain.

“yn?” a car was on your left, and it was moving at the same speed as you. The face of whoever was behind the wheel was blurred by the rain, but you would have recognized that voice anywhere in the world.

“Let me give you a ride”

You shook your head. The last thing you should do was get in the car with him. It was too dangerous, you were sure that if you looked at him for more than a second you’d start crying. Just by hearing his voice your eyes were burning and a lump was forming in your throat.

“It’s fine, the bus stop is right there”

“There was an accident back there, the bus won’t be here anytime soon”

You grumbled. Of course, there was an accident, of course, there wouldn't be a bus and with your luck, the subway would probably be closed too.

"If your car went through the accident, a taxi will too”

You quickened your pace, not because of the rain, but because you wanted to get away from him. You needed to get away from him.

“Jesus, yn, just get in the car. You’re going to get sick”

You pretended you didn't hear what he said and kept walking, face down – trying to escape both the rain and him. The first tear fell from your eyes. For the first time in days, you were grateful for the rain, because you could pretend it was just water and not a visual representation of your broken heart on your cheeks.

Seokmin stopped the car right there, in the middle of the street. He didn't care if someone was standing behind him honking like crazy — something that was bound to happen.

When he left your apartment that day he felt like he was 22 again, but this time he was the one leaving.

Hearing that you loved him was everything he had wanted, but the timing was strangely right and wrong, both at the same time.

Both of you screamed, shouted, and said what you wanted to say — or at least part of what you wanted to say. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at the same time a new one was placed on it.

After you fell asleep in his arms, the only thing Seokmin could think about were the letters scattered across the living room floor. There were so many. He couldn't believe you had spent all those years writing letters to him.

He needed to read them all. He would have done it in the living room, but he didn't know what awaited him, so he collected them all from the floor and a few more that had been left in the box and left.

He read the first one in the car, he couldn't wait until he got home. 

Seokmin cried right there, the same way he cried when you left. Inconsolable. His heart broke and healed in equal measure with every word of yours he read.

Seokmin always believed that you left like that, without a single word, because you didn't like him that much, because you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Not that he thought the entire relationship had been a lie, but he thought that somehow the love had ended. It happened to everyone, the probability of it happening to him was also high.

The truth could not be different. There wasn't a letter in which you didn't say you loved him, not always in those words, but he knew you well enough to know that was what you said.

After reading all the letters, Seokmin called Joshua. He cried on the phone with his friend and then once again when he showed up at his place with bad beer and takeout food. “Since we’re going to talk about our college days, I think we should do the same thing we did back then” was all he said.

Seokmin was on his way to you when he saw you walking without an umbrella. He wanted to talk to you, to know if even after so long you still wanted to try with him one more time. It was better to try than to always wonder what could have been.

“I read your letters!” he shouted louder than the rain.

His words were enough to make you stop walking, but you still didn't turn to face him. It was too hard to breathe. Your chest rose and fell irregularly each time you tried to pull the air in.

You knew Seokmin had taken the letters. Part of you knew he would read them, but the last thing you expected was for him to want to talk about them.

“I know” you said when he approached “I saw they were gone, and you were the only person who came by”

“Do you know why I accepted to host a love advice show? Besides it being something I've always wanted, of course” he didn't give you time to answer “Because a part of me wanted you to listen, to know that I was okay, even if it was a lie. I thought that if I talked about it on a show that had used the nickname you gave me, you’d regret it. I thought that I should make you regret it because it was the only way I could still think about you without looking like a fool after so long. I thought you didn’t care, that you had left because you didn’t like me anymore, so making you regret your decision was the only option I had”

You shook your head. It wasn't true, not by a long shot.

“I'm sorry” you said softly “I should have told you what I was doing, that I had applied for the and got in. I thought it was my only option. It was so stupid. I was so stupid”

Seokmin laughed a little, fingers running under your eyes. A second later he pressed his lips over yours.

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

It's been a good few years since I wrote you a letter. After a while, I didn't think I needed it anymore because I started saying everything I wanted, everything I felt, looking at you. Of course, this new arrangement has its demerits, as the paper and pen don't look at me like a lost puppy. But paper and pen don't kiss me either, so it has its bonus.

I thought when I came home four years ago, I would never see you again. I thought you would just be the guy who has a radio show that I would listen to every now and then. I didn't expect to see you my first week back and again and, well,  again.

As you probably know, I've never been a big fan of rainy days. I always preferred sunny days because those were the days I woke up ready to face the world. I felt better overall. But also because they reminded me of you. You know, when the sun appears after gray days? For me, you were always like that. Grand and brilliant.

But after that day, I started to like rainy days too because they started to be full of the two of us. Rain was no longer synonymous of an unproductive day, but rather of the memory of our fresh start.

You know this, we've talked about it a few times, but I spent a few months waiting for it to sink in. Sort of expecting that one day I would wake up and it would all be a dream. It was hard for both of us, I know. It was seven years of hurt and resentment and we had to navigate this uncertain sea without a map. Nobody teaches you how to do this, believe me, I looked. I found countless books on how to start dating, how to save a relationship, and how to get over a relationship. The problem is that none of them teach you how to rekindle a relationship after seven years apart, but during those seven years one of the parties wrote letters and the other had a program just to mourn the sorrows of the relationship.

I've read several, so you can trust what I say on this.

It really wasn't easy, but I think we came out better, stronger, in some way.

I love you and I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Our forever begins today, in a little while. So stop crying, put ice on your eyes to help the swelling go down, and go to the aisle because I miss you already.

I love you.

yn

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[cumikering]

F1 John Price x reader

2.7k | fluff Price raced for Mclaren. You didn’t know that (part 2)

No human body was made for this: jetting across continents and time zones for nine months out of twelve.

Even after the years, John Price hadn’t got used to it. Neither was he used to flying from Las Vegas to London for a photoshoot only to hop on another plane the day after for his next race in Qatar.

He groaned internally, his body aching as he plopped down onto the backseat of the cab before taking his black surgical mask and cap off. He didn’t get a proper rest with how turbulent his flight was.

“Oh, I’ve seen ya mate!” the middle-aged driver exclaimed, eyeing him from the rear-view mirror. “You’re famous- you’re the F1 bloke, innit?”

John gave him a polite smile.

“Could you sign something of mine?” He popped open his glovebox. “Wait, this wouldn’t sell so high…” he muttered as he rummaged through it.

The cars behind started a cacophony of honks.

“Am in the way.” He chuckled sheepishly as he pulled away. “You better not run off before I find something!"

Downtown London was packed at the hour. The driver had plenty of time to look through every nook and cranny of his car, but cursing when he could only come up with a yellowing notepad and a drying pen. John made do.

“Could you also put your name down, please?” He held the pad over his shoulder after he’d inspected it. “So we know who you are.”

And he did, with another rehearsed smile.

“Cheers, mate.” With a pleased grin, he tossed the pad onto the passenger seat, not even bothering to make eye contact amidst the traffic.

At the red light around the corner of the magazine HQ, the taxi halted in front of a coffee shop. He glanced at his watch - he was 20 minutes early and he desperately needed caffeine.

John pulled his mask and cap back on before exiting the car. The cap was still stiff, one with a French flag patch he grabbed at random at the airport with a grumble. He’d misplaced the plain one he liked.

He kept his head down as he stood in the short queue.

“Hot Americano, double shot, please.”

His phone chimed when he waved it over the payment terminal. He was going to regret this. He wasn’t a big coffee drinker.

“Can I get a name for that?” You looked up from the cup you scribbled on.

“JP.”

You smiled, glancing at his cap and wrote his name down. “Like Jean Pierre?”

He chuckled, only now making eye contact with you. It was a joke between him and his teammate, Kyle, or Gaz as the fans called him. You must be one of those well-meaning people pretending to not recognise him, giving him a slice of normalcy.

He always appreciated the gesture, especially the more years passed. As glamorous as life had been since F1, John discovered he wasn’t about all the glitz and glam.

He didn’t care about looking immaculate all the time, scripted speech in designer clothing or driving expensive cars. Have you seen the state of London’s streets? Everything was PR, PR, PR - like this wasn’t even his life he was living anymore. He wanted to be home on his racing simulator or get the neighbourhood takeaway in his thick hoodies without anyone shoving a camera in his face. He just wanted his old, quiet life.

You worked the coffee machine, your back to him, and his gaze wondered to the pastry display as he leaned on the counter. The cookies were massive, thick in the middle, probably chewy too. They would be perfect with his coffee.

He glanced at the line which had grown longer, and at you at the register now, scribbling another customer’s order onto a cup with a smile. It was odd that no one else was in sight to help you at the busy time.

A quick peek at his watch: he didn’t have the time to queue again. He’d just have to come back later after his business.

“Enjoy.” You flashed him a smile as you placed his order on the counter.

It didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes.

Sure enough, hours later after a photoshoot and an interview, caffeine still buzzed in John’s veins. He could only imagine how long he’d be up later that night, but it was worth it. At least he didn’t look like a zombie in the footage.

His mask didn’t hold off the gust of wind - cold against his cheeks as he stepped out of the building. His stomach rumbled. While pubs had started to fill up with people in work attire, the lights were still on in your shop. He crossed the street only for the sign to read ‘closed’, the last couple exiting the door.

His shoulders sagged, but he pushed the door open anyway.

You looked up from the tablet you fumbled with, your smile apologetic. “Hiya, we’re closed. Sorry.”

He glanced at the display, empty safe for two remaining cookies. He pointed at them. “Hi, so sorry to bother, but I just wanted those, please. I didn’t get the chance earlier.”

Recognition flashed in your eyes. “Oh, I remember you. Jean-Pierre.”

“It’s me.” He laughed.

You slid the bag of two cookies across the counter. “On the house.”

“No, no. You’re doing me a favour already. Have one with me at least?”

You hummed. “Why not.”

At the nearest table, he had taken his cap and mask off. You set down a mug of milk.

“You’re spoiling me.” He chuckled, taking a bite of the cookie. “Oh my god, it’s spot on,” he groaned.

You smiled. “I’m glad you like it. It took me a while to come up with the perfect recipe.”

“I’d thought about this for hours and it doesn’t disappoint, but I bet it tastes even better warm.” His gaze couldn’t help but fall to your untouched cookie.

You laughed, pushing the paperbag across the table.

“I’m sorry, this is so, so shameless.” He gave you a sheepish grin. “But it’s wonderful, really. I’ll be back. Definitely.”

“You’re very welcome to.”

“Can I place an order? For my team. Three dozens for tomorrow morning, or is that a bit last minute?”

“Yeah, no, I can do that.” You smiled. “If I may ask, what do you do, JP? Sounds like a big team.”

He frowned. “I thought you knew?”

You tilted your head. “Sorry, I don’t think you told me?”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. Heat crept up his neck from the presumption. “I work with cars.”

“Like a mechanic?”

“Something like that.”

“Oh, that’s impressive. You must have steady hands.”

“I do, I suppose.” He held your gaze for a moment. “Oh, sorry, you were about to close. I’ll just finish this-“

You waved your hand. “Do take you time. I hadn’t had the chance to sit down.”

“Busy day?”

“Very. One of my girls is sick so I worked alone today.”

“I can stay a bit, if you don’t mind.” He smiled. “Actually, would you like dinner? I’m famished. I can get something for us?”

“That sounds fantastic.”

“I saw a kebab shop a block away. Are they stingy with their chips?”

“Of course not. They wouldn’t be my favourite otherwise.”

He dashed out the door with a grin.

When John returned with dinner, you called out from the kitchen as you put away the cookie dough you’d just prepped for his order.

“I make the dough at least 12 hours ahead. That way the flavours have a chance to mingle.” You sat across him.

“Is that why they’re so good?”

You shrugged, smiling, as you unwrapped your dinner.

“I’ll be back for this too.” He nodded approvingly at the kebab, bursting at the seams with chips.

“They’ve got great food around here.”

“All the more reason I’ll have to be back.”

You chatted over the meal, about the area and its hidden gems. He was convinced he didn’t even know half of the city even after living there for many years.

“Thanks for dinner, Jean-Pierre. You can go now if you want.” You put away the wrappings. “I don’t want to bore you with all the cleaning I’m going to be doing.”

“It’s John, and I can do the dishes.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“You said you were tired, and look how long I held you up.” He gestured at the dark sky outside.

You chuckled as you shook your head.

“Come on, let’s get to work,” he said over his shoulder as he sauntered to the kitchen.

You wiped down the counters and did the floor as John helped with the dishes, asking about you and your shop. While he didn’t like doing chores, doing them with you didn’t feel troublesome.

In fact, it was nice to spend some time out, not cooped up all alone in his apartment. It was refreshing to not be talking about racing or cars, to get away from it all. You laughed so heartily, so bright at his jokes. Within these four walls, maskless, he didn’t have to pretend.

He wore his mask as you locked up, but not before sliding in a few bills into the tip jar when you weren’t looking.

“So.” He turned to you, hands jammed in his pockets.

“I’m taking the bus.”

If he had his car he’d have offered to drive, but it was just as well he wasn’t driving. What if he wouldn’t want to leave?

So he walked you to the bus stop before calling a taxi for himself, back to his own reality.

While John was away for a Grand Prix weekend, between media day, qualifying and other preparations, he didn’t have the chance to be alone with his thoughts. However, as soon as he lay in his hotel bed that Sunday night, adrenaline still pumping in his blood from the race hours before, his mind drifted to you. He wondered what you were up to, if you’d thought about him since Wednesday morning when he picked up his order.

See, his problem wasn’t that he didn’t ask, but that he asked too easily and often came off too strong. He didn’t want that, especially not to you, someone the slightest bit more than an acquaintance now, a funny and pretty one at that.

But he should have asked for your number. He had so many chances to: during dinner, while walking you to the bus stop, or when he swung by the day after. You would have loved to know how everyone flocked to him when he walked into the room, oohing and aahing over your cookies.

He’d just have to wait until the next day.

Monday was his favourite day of the week because it was his day off, allowing him to not even leave his penthouse apartment if he so wished. But in the afternoon when he arrived back in London, he had somewhere else to be. On his way home from the factory, he took a detour, parking around the corner from your shop.

He wasn’t supposed to think so much about you, let alone miss you, but he did against his better judgement. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face when you greeted him as he approached the counter.

“Hiya, what can I get you?”

“I’d like to place another order for tomorrow. Everyone loved your cookies.”

“Sure.” You smiled. “You know, you could just give us a ring, yeah?”

“Right, about that. I was wondering if you fancy dinner with me tonight?”

“Oh, I’ll have to prep for the cookies-“

Behind you, a young lady at the coffee machine quipped over her shoulder with a stifled smile. “I can handle that.”

You turned and mouthed ‘thank you’ to her. “Where to?”

“Anywhere you want. I’m driving.”

When you sent him to wait at a table with a cup of hot chocolate, his smile faltered. He didn’t think this through. He was driving his Mclaren. Shephard, the boss, made up this silly clause in the contract for him and Gaz to drive their own McLaren to and from the factory. Good for PR, he said.

 He hurried outside as he dialled.

“Kate? Kate, I’m at that coffee shop.”

There was a beat. “Okay?”

“Would you please drive my GTI over?”

“Why, did your car break?” She chuckled. “A towed Mclaren isn’t a good look. Shephard won’t be impr-”

“No, I need my GTI in-“ he glanced at his watch. ”Exactly 52 minutes.”

“What? John, I’m your manager, not your errand boy.”

“Please! I’ve got no time to explain, just do it.”

“Or what?” she said dryly.

“I’ll tell your wife in Qatar there was a lighter in your coat pocket which smelled an awful lot like smoke.”

There was a pause followed by a huff. “Fine. Text me the address.”

Kate rolled up in his Golf GTI in time for your shop to close. You picked a place not too far from your flat, and he was thankful it wasn’t packed. You sat at the table in the corner and kept his cap on.

It was evident you were less tired that night, more playful with your jokes. He could listen to your laugh and look into your eyes all day. But before it was too late, much to his chagrin, you called it a night.

He pulled up at your flat. “I promise no more last-minute orders.”

“Just give us a call next time.”

“Rather call you.”

John Sloane, he typed into your phone.

You smiled, sliding your phone back in your pocket. “See you soon, John.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You held his gaze for another moment before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. His heart soared, but before he could react, you’d shut the door behind you with a supressed smile.

He grinned to himself as he drove home.

“Gaz!” Soap bellowed at the door. “Sorry am late. My alarm didnae go off.” The engineer hurried to the table to see Kyle munching happily. “Och, did ye get more cookies, Cap? I’m starvin’.”

Everyone on the team wore a cap, but Price was the only one who couldn’t be caught without one, therefore the curious nickname. That, and he often swore up a storm on team radio, like a bossy sailor. Simon, his engineer, could only remain silent witnessing the outbursts like he wasn’t even there. He earned his moniker Ghost that way.

John chuckled. “Help yourself, mate.”

He popped open the box, groaning after a bite. “Aye, that’s the one.”

“You sure you don’t want one, Ghost?” Gaz teased as he grabbed his third cookie. “You’ve been staring.”

“Alright, just one.”

“Oh, that didn’t take a lot of convincing,” Soap quipped between bites.

Ghost gave him the side eye. “Would you rather I eat the whole box, Johnny?”

Soap pouted and took his seat next to Gaz, and the team meeting for the upcoming race commenced.

As always, the crew flew out on Thursday, but this time, he had you to text. And he did, between the press conferences and briefs, or work, as he simply told you. If he was home, he would ask you out again in a heartbeat. Texting couldn’t compare to seeing that smile in real life, but it would have to do for now.

Abu Dhabi was the last race of the season. He was very much looking forward to winter break, even more so this time, because for the first time in years, he had someone to come home to. Okay, maybe that was too generous a statement. There was someone he would very much want to see, to say the least.

John landed in London Monday evening, still thrumming from his P1 win and finishing second for the season. He went straight home to switch cars before picking you up at work for dinner with a giddy smile.

He had a few days to himself before leaving for Liverpool for Christmas, which hopefully meant one more time of seeing you, if you let him, that was. But when you gave him another peck on his cheek when he opened the car door for you, he decided it was impossible to stay away from you.

I’ve missed you too much.

Ex boyfriend Price Masterlist

@tiredmetalenthusiast @le16erc @keegansshark @kyletogaz @footyandformula

[soap-ify]

nsfw below , mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader.

03 — i'm sorry i'm the one you love.

chapter summary — a visit to simon's place after finding out that he's sick was definitely not the best idea.

tags / cw — some fluff, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, suicidal thoughts, major self deprecating thoughts, heavy themes, simon's past, simon fucks up royally, reader has anxiety, simon can't communicate for his life, some nsfw. [3.1k words]

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Simon’s immunity to being sick was one of those traits about himself he was the most proud of.

But oh well, maybe he wasn’t completely immune.

Queasy stomach, constricted nose, trembling muscles — Simon would rather die, ironically enough. He hated this feeling, made him feel like an imposter in his own body, wanting to crawl out of this mess that left him nauseous.

He couldn’t even remember how he had gotten sick. Maybe it was the horribly cold weather in the place the taskforce had pinpointed one of the targets at. Or maybe it was the drunk woman who was all over him in the bar they went to after the mission was over. God, that woman.

An uneasy pit formed in his stomach as he thought about that night, that woman pinned beneath him as he—

Fuck it. He didn’t want to think about the details. All he knew that he kept on thinking about you while he was fucking her, and it only made him want to rip his skin off even more. You. You were probably waiting for him at your home, wondering if he was safe. Alive even.

The mission had gotten extended due to some issues, and he was just so fucking frustrated and tired. That woman was just… there, flirting with him so shamelessly, and he was too exhausted to stop her, thinking that she might somehow fill the void in his chest, or even give some temporary solace to how lonely and isolated he felt despite being around everyone else.

He was so wrong. Every thrust into that woman felt like being restrained, as if hands were gripping onto his throat tight, mocking at his incapability of coming to proper solutions to his damn problems. He felt trapped, chains tying him as he dissociated more and more.

That woman was sickeningly satisfied that night, and Simon just felt more and more ill, confused and lost amidst the overwhelming storm that raged inside his head. Was he guilty? He wasn’t even dating you. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t fucked anyone else since meeting you, other than this. You made him forget others.

No, it wasn’t guilt. Well, it was but there was something more too.

It was just that Simon became more and more self aware of how noxious he had become to himself. His own doom.

Anyways, it was probably the cold weather that made him sick.

Now back in his shitty apartment after five weeks, all he cared about was getting some damn medicines and sleeping it off, and trying not to think about you.

Which was hard, too hard. You had somehow built your own corner in his head, started living there too. Permanently? Probably. He knew he should tell you that he’s back, but again, does he really ever tell you anything?

A cough escaped him and he groaned in annoyance, the urge to just suffocate himself with his pillow really strong.

Kyle was an angel, really.

“The mission was so exhausting. Problems here and there.” He groaned, tipping his head back while lounging on your couch, opening up the small box of chocolates he had bought for you. “Try it, mate. Got it at the airport.” He grinned, tossing you one piece of wrapped chocolate. You undid it and tossed it in your mouth, immediately feeling the sweet ball of chocolate melting at your tongue, a happy noise escaping your throat.

“Holy shit.” You gasped in awe, earning a knowing chuckle from Kyle.

You were sitting with your legs crossed, constantly shifting and fidgeting, your sock-clad feet somewhat restless as you tried to resist the urge to ask about Simon.

Though it seemed that your mouth worked faster than your brain.

“How’s Simon?” You asked, voice a bit strained and you suddenly regretted every single thing in your life.

Kyle was a bit surprised that you were asking about his gloomy Lieutenant out of everyone else, though he didn’t question it, not an ounce of suspicion on his face. “Sick.” A snort left him before he could hold it back, a hand coming to cover his mouth as he snickered. “He was so mad ‘bout it. You should’ve seen him.”

Sick? Truth be told, you had never considered the possibility of Simon getting sick. The concept just seemed so… foreign? Maybe you had just always thought of him as something else. That creepy balaclava never helped.

A sudden overwhelming wave of worry churned in your stomach, your fingernails digging into your palm while you swallowed the lump in your throat, your brain desperately trying to hold onto the scattered rush of thoughts and form a plan somehow. You weren’t even that mad at him for ghosting you or not indicating anything about his return. He was sick.

“That sucks…” You awkwardly replied, biting your inner cheek.

As soon as Kyle was gone, you grabbed your jacket and keys, leaving your apartment too with only one place in mind.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Simon’s voice was sickeningly hoarse, and he didn’t look any better — pale hair all messy and the dark circles around his eyes a bit more prominent, a black surgical mask covering his mouth while he coughed a bit. You don’t think you’d ever properly seen his hair before fully except a few strands. You liked it.

He looked at you standing at the front door of his apartment, looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours that were full of concern, a plastic bag in your hands that seemingly contained some vegetables, some meds and other food. Shit, I should have tidied up my place, his brain screamed at him.

“Kyle told me you were sick. I got worried.” You mumbled sheepishly.

Of course it was Kyle. Simon tried hard to not click his tongue and nodded reluctantly, stepping aside so you could get in.

“You shouldn’t be standing and walking around, Si…” You frowned, quickly putting the plastic bag on the kitchen counter. Before he could even protest, you were already gently pushing onto his chest, trying to make him move until he sighed and sniffled, letting you push him into his bedroom.

“You don’t have to, love.” He grumbled weakly and proceeded to lay on his bed, watching you pull his blanket over him, disappearing out of the room for a moment before coming back with a bowl of cold water and a towel, gently beginning to dab the wet towel on his burning forehead.

Simon felt… weird. A part of him felt embarrassed for letting someone else take care of him, someone as sweet and kind as you, someone who genuinely cared. He was used to being the one always watching out for others, making sure his teammates were safe and sound.

And the other part of him felt so nice — the part that had just been trapped in there ever since he dug himself out of that damn grave years ago, the stench of the rotting corpse still vivid in his head. The real Simon. You were making that part of him feel loved even if you weren’t aware of it.

He doesn’t remember when was the last time he felt so comforted. And it terrified him, this feeling of warmth that was spreading in his chest, a feeling he had somewhat started loathing at some point in the past few years.

But he wanted it more, wanted it like a starved dog wandering in a street, wanted it like a man needing water. And he was scared that this need of his would terrify you — that you’ll catch him ravenous and berserk, devouring your love, or even you, in such a manner that will make you shriek and leave him forever. Leave him after learning who he truly was. Disturbed. An Outcast. An unwanted dog.

Not a man, never a man.

A cough rumbled from his throat, and you left the wet towel resting on his forehead, your hand reaching down to rub his chest through his shirt in circular motions. “I’ll make some soup for you.” You mumbled softly, the urge to press a soft kiss in between his brows strong. But you couldn’t do it. He would probably hate it anyway.

You pulled away and looked at him one more time before leaving his bedroom, ready to make some warm soup for him with the groceries you bought for him.

This allowed him to close his eyes for a few minutes, trying to cancel out the loud buzzing in his head. Though that wasn’t a good option too, really, but there was nothing else he could do. Sleep never came to him anyways.

First it was just darkness, the only sounds in the bedroom being of his slightly heavy breathing, soft sniffles leaving him. Then it came slowly, images flashing in his head. Brutal and unforgiving. Blood, bodies, knives, guns, shouts, his family, Tommy, Beth, everyone. A meat hook, a scar, more scars, Roba, his father.

His father.

“Soup’s ready!”

His eyes snapped open as soon as he heard your melodic voice from the kitchen, soft footsteps drawing closer to the bedroom. Sweat had formed on the back of his neck as he panted heavily, clearing his throat. Clear your damn head.

“Here you go.” You walked into the bedroom, a warm bowl of soup in your hands as you gently placed it on the nightstand beside him.

Simon sat up on the bed and gave you a silent nod of gratitude, grabbing the bowl of soup, fiddling with the spoon, eyes elsewhere. He couldn’t meet your eyes, feeling too vulnerable and naked.

You shifted on your feet, a small smile moving up on your lips once he finally took a taste of the soup, happy to not see any sign of disgust on his features. You knew he wasn’t going to show that he liked the soup anyways. These were the little things you took note of, the subtle relaxation in his brows and the content sigh that escaped his mouth.

Minutes passed by and you managed to sit on a chair nearby his bed, silence lingering in the room while your eyes looked around, taking in just how bleak everything was. White walls, grey sheets, a severe lack of pictures or literally anything on the wall.

The only thing you could find was the little picture of him and the rest of the taskforce hung on the wall. It was sweet. The four guys were on a beach — Johnny having a beaming grin on his lips while Kyle had an annoyed one, trying to get the other’s hand off his ticklish sides. John had a cute big smile that highlighted his cheeks and the scrunch of his nose, like a quokka. And then there was Simon, face covered by the balaclava, classic. Though he didn’t appear to be brooding or anything, no. Instead, his eyes held a relieved and satisfied look. Transient happiness. The skin of his exposed torso was all flushed, and you could barely hold in a smile.

“Do you burn?” You asked, trying to hide the subtle amusement in your voice.

“No, I tan.” His hoarse voice replied, taking another sip of the soup, sounding so damn serious despite the lie. Typical Simon.

Silence soon filled the room once again, though it didn’t really feel comforting as it usually was between you too, sometimes. It seemed tense and thick, your right leg bouncing up and down restlessly. Restless for what? You wanted to do something, but you didn’t know what that something was. Everything just felt so odd today, so distant. Even with the little banter here and there, something seemed wrong.

“Um…” You finally managed to croak out, clearing your throat before looking at him. “There’s a new ice cream parlor that just opened around the street recently, and people seem to like it quite well. Would you like to go there sometime?” You asked with the little courage you had gathered in the past few minutes. Basically asking him out on a date, playing with the fire. But maybe it would help cheer him up, right?

He was silent for a while, and you momentarily thought that he didn’t hear you before he finally spoke, voice devoid of any emotion.

“No.”

Silence. Somehow more agonising than before. Heat spread through your cheeks and ears, an uncomfortable heat that made you feel too ashamed and humiliated, too weak and shocked. No. There were no signs of hesitation in his voice, and your mouth began working faster than your brain, anxiety simmering beneath the surface.

“O-Of course not now… When you’re not sick.”

“Still a no.”

You swallow the heavy lump in your throat, your heartbeat accelerating while your fingernails begin digging into your palm, breathing becoming all the more shallow. Were you annoying him? Please don’t speak, don’t make him more angry. Don’t say anything else, don’t breathe, don’t—

“Why are you being like this?”

Your strained question finally made Simon look at you, his stare too callous. The heat was unbearable, and you almost struggled to breath, trying your best to maintain eye contact with him, feeling the itchy sensation spreading through your skin. Inhale, exhale, inh—

“You don’t ever shut up, do you?” He threw a question back at you, though it was rhetorical and just cruel. Too cruel. Were you really talking too much? Your mouth quickly shut at that, breath catching in your throat, confusion and uncertainty screaming through every little action of yours.

Your heart felt too heavy, begging to run out of your chest, leave you abandoned or just simply run for its life, find some sort of freedom and solace. Your throat tightened up, restricting you from saying anything. But Simon would like it, yeah?

Simon saw it, the consequences of his words written bright and clear on your face, your shy smiles and little jokes being replaced by… that, horror and hurt etched on your pretty face. If he could somehow reach for the knife stuffed beneath his bed in front of you, he would and do something about this fucking mess that he had become.

Those words came out of his mouth in the spur of the moment — the headache and congested nose, the sick feeling in his chest and then your genuine care — everything was too overwhelming. Why are you even wasting your time over someone as damaged as me?

He hated it, hated how the more overwhelmed he’d get, the more he’d snap and say shit he never meant. He didn't know how he’d become like this, maybe because of the shouts he always heard when he was still a rookie, maybe how everyone prioritized strength and anger so much to be seen in the battleground, to be strong and good at your work. The military really did train him into a violent dog, didn’t it?

Or maybe he was one ever since he came out of his mother’s womb.

But Simon wasn’t going to show the vulnerability seeping into his being. Not yet, probably not ever.

You couldn’t meet Simon’s stare any longer, your eyes looking up at the ceiling, tears already prickling at the edges of her eyes, and it stung.

“I just want to sleep. I don’t need you here.” He spoke in a way that came out more as a cold hiss while he clenched his jaw behind his surgical mask, and it made your resolve even weaker, fighting back your tears and trying not to flinch once slammed the empty bowl on the nightstand, proceeding to lay back down on the bed and pull the covers all over him.

He doesn’t need you here.

You sniffled softly and nodded to no one in particular, walking over to his bed and gently patting his shoulder through the blanket. “Get well soon, Simon… I left the meds on the kitchen counter.” You spoke, unable to hide the way your voice cracked.

And just like that, you walked out of his apartment, pretending to ignore the ache in your heart.

Pretending to have not noticed the random tiny bottle of perfume laying on the couch. The perfume clearly did not belonging to him.

You didn’t like walking through the streets. There were always too many people around, making your clutch the ends of your sleeves tight and quicken your steps up.

But today, all you could see were the happy couples, smiling and holding hands. Young, old, married, dating. It was so sweet that it made you want to cry and plead for some love too, something that would make you forget about the cracks forming in your heart and the loneliness creeping behind you like a ghost. Literally.

You had come to the conclusion that there was probably something wrong with you that just made you so… So unlovable? Was it how anxious you were? How talkative you’d get? How you’d just speak without thinking?

Why can’t Simon and you be one of the couples holding hands right now? Walking through the streets and giggling at some awful jokes he’d make, spending time together, being in love.

As soon as you reached your home, you collapsed on your bed and let the tears finally fall down your cheeks, a silent pained sob escaping your lips. It hurt, it hurt so bad. You hated it, you went over there to check up on Simon, not anger him.

You hated him, he was so mean to you. But you loved him too. Loved him like the ocean loved the moon, always staring at it in awe, wanting to get closer but never reaching it.

You hated that fucking perfume you spotted in his apartment. Probably belonging to some other woman. Did Simon call her ‘love’ too? You know there was no point in feeling so mad when the agreement was clearly ‘no strings attached’ — no catching feelings. But you somehow always managed to fail at this kind of stuff.

You choked on your sobs and curled up on your bed, too exhausted and tired, hands reaching out to grab the stuffed toy you had and clutching it tight against your chest, breathing heavily, wanting it to somehow ease the storm brewing within you, every sound coming out of you more painful than before.

“I just wanna sleep…” You whimpered to yourself, closing your eyes while the tears uncomfortably slid down the bridge of your nose in this position. Simon’s words.

Sleep and just get lost in a world where you’d be happier, in a world where you weren’t struggling with everything.

Sleep and somehow disappear.

notes — the demons really won with this one.

[olsenmyolsen]

Ever Since Natasha Saw You (18+)

master list

dark master list

Post Black Widow Dark!Natasha Romanoff (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: She was a hero. But to her, YOU were so much more.

Word Count: 6.1K

Content: Dub-Con, Obsession, Kidnapping, Stalking, Blood, Knife, Knifeplay, Mommy Kink, Feelings, Trauma, Death,

The Black Widow hid a secret.

She was in love with you. Sounds pretty innocent... right?

"Night Y/N!" Your coworker Daisy called out as you were still typing at your computer. It was Friday night, and everyone but you was already leaving. Leaving to be free of the thoughts of work for at least the weekend.

You had a marketing job in downtown Manhattan. Skyscraper. Cubicle. Long nights. That kind of job.

You liked it, honestly.

Sure, New York and the surrounding areas were dangerous. Hell, at times. But you had heroes and vigilantes to save you. You had first-hand experience in 2012 when you and your Dad were saved while out at your "I made it through University without killing myself" lunch.

Now, here you were 4 years later. Still in the city while your Dad left. But that was fine. Being on your own has been exemplary. Sure, you have some friends... coworkers, really. You went on dates! I mean, they didn't lead to much more. But you were going through life.

A cat! You have a cat. An orange tabby who only loves you for food...

Anyways! You were fine and finishing up work on your computer when a pop-up of World News showed up in the top right-hand corner of your screen.

What's New 3 Weeks After The Fall Of A Secret Organization Hiding In The Sky? Russia and the U.S. Remain Quiet.

You heard about the debris and strange things found over on that side of the world earlier this month. With that came the theories.

You rolled your eyes at most. But some were fun. Like aliens was a popular one. People online said it was a crashed group of green-shape-shifting aliens. Your coworker Lindsey swore by another that claimed it was a giant purple guy who crashed on Earth.

Yeah, that'll be the day.

You even had a friend of a friend named Darcy who said an Avenger was present to what happened, leaving you curious.

The Avengers, as far as you were concerned, were in trouble. Rumblings, sightings, and videos of two sides of the superhero group fighting at a German airport left many to speculate that this was the end. Plus, this coming weeks after what happened in Lagos and the murder of King T'Chaka made it all the more plausible.

So, if the rumor was confirmed that an Avenger was at the collapse of what many were confused about, it was... interesting.

But you couldn't dwell on that. You shook your head and closed out of the news to finish up your projected cost for the next wave of Roxxon Marketing.

_

As you walked out of your office building, you were unaware you were being followed.

It wasn't the first time you had been followed. Fuck it wasn't even the fiftieth time it had happened, but still you remained clueless. She thought it was cute at first how unaware of your surroundings you were. It always made her smile.

Because in one second, an innocent and pretty thing like you could be gone.

But she wouldn't let that happen.

Not by anyone else, at least.

You have to understand. She was your protector. Yeah.. Yeah, that's right! The one to make sure you got home safe. The one to take care of threats no matter how minuscule they might be. She also made sure no one got too close or even dared to ask you out.

You couldn't date. That would be unfair and very hurtful to the one who... watched over you...

I mean, you never wondered why suddenly Dennis never showed back up to work after asking you out to lunch, now did you?

Rumor was his family got sick, and he had to skip town. But we know about rumors now, don't we? I.E., purple aliens. Green shapeshifting ones. You get it.

Oh. Also. What happened to Dennis, you may ask?

I'll let you know when his body turns up.

However, all of this is to say that you were lucky Natasha Romanoff picked you.

She was back after being gone, having to deal with some family business. But she was back! For you! Natasha thought you should be grateful. She could be- SHOULD BE on the run right now, but here she was twenty feet behind you.

After tonight, you were going to know precisely who she was.

Natasha smiled as she followed you. She laughed as she saw how cautious you were of people even when you're on your phone like you are right now.

However, as cautious as you may be, it leaves you vulnerable. Sweet. Easy.

Natasha thinks you're too nice for your own good sometimes. Like you always see the best in people. It drives Natasha crazy the amount times she has had to stop because you stopped to help someone. A drunk. A homeless man. A- you get it.

As you and Natasha head down into the subway, she appreciates how your route hasn't changed at all since your first day of work many years ago. Yet she can't help but snicker at how you've never noticed her taking that walk with you. But then again, even with how cautious you are, you don't notice things.

You still haven't noticed the tiny cameras Natasha installed in your place. Or the amount of panties she's stolen. Or even the amount of times you've slept with her arms around your body. In addition to the hushed whispers and stolen kisses, she's left on your lips.

On top of that, you haven't noticed her feelings for you.

Natasha moves closer to you as you both are nearing your stop. With a plan in motion, The Black Widow can't help but smile.

Natasha takes another step forward and grabs onto the metal pole in front of herself to stop her movement when you look up and around the car. You stop when your eyes reach Natasha's green ones in a hoodie and jeans. You smile quickly before putting your head down, focusing back on your phone.

What you did just now was polite. You looked from your phone to stretch your neck and smiled at a cute blonde who just so happened to be looking your way.

That's what you thought.

To Natasha, you signaled her out.

With your eyes, you noticed her. After all this time, you did it! On tonight of all nights. It was a sign. It was meant to be!

Natasha smiled and stared at you, unaware.

When you finally got up to get off at your stop, you felt your arm being yanked back. When you stumbled back and turned your head to find a bald man older than your father looking at you like he won a prize, you pulled as hard as possible. But his grip was tight. "Where are you going, sweetheart?" He looked over your body, making you pull again.

How was no one stopping this man? Was no one seeing it? Did no one care?

The train car beeped, signaling the doors were going to be closing, and the man had yet to remove you from his grip. You were about to scream when the blonde woman from before grabbed your other arm, making you shriek in surprise. The woman acted fast and kicked the man in the knee hard enough to break it before rushing the two of you out of the train car just as the doors closed on three other men hitting their first against the door.

You wanted to wave them bye and flick them off, but your arm hurt. Not the one the man held.. But... but your other one. The one the woman held as she saved you.

"You, alright?" The blonde had a raspy voice as she spoke. It sounded familiar, but as you quickly scanned her face, you declared she must have that kind of face. (as if) But her eyes. Her eyes were one of a kind. Beautiful and a shimmering green you wanted to get lost in.

So lost that you almost forgot about the arm pain and the dizziness you were starting to feel...

"Yeah." You nodded to the blonde who had yet to release your arm. "I'm fine."

This was a lie, and Natasha, of course, knew that. I mean, she was the one wearing the ring that, with one turn of the gemstone, revealed a tiny needle. One that the blonde used to inject your arm with a sleeping agent.

"Are you sure?" The woman smiled as she asked you. Why was she smiling? You went to nod that you were indeed fine but found yourself more tired. Weaker even. "Oh, honey, you don't look so good."

Natasha smiled as she felt your body losing the fight. Natasha quickly looked around before wrapping your arm around her shoulder to make it appear as if you were a drunk friend who needed help getting home.

"Oh, Y/N, it looks like that guy must have really done something, huh?"

The guy in the group of men that she paid off.

Your mind was becoming black as your body went limp, and before you could ask her how she knew your name or who the hell she was, you took one last look at the blonde.

This time, you recognized who she was.

You went to speak but slurred your words as you closed your eyes, passing out in Natasha Romanoff's arms.

_

Getting you home was easy.

As Natasha unlocked your front door, she smiled, pulling you closer as you entered through the threshold between the hallway and your apartment. Natasha smiled wider as she looked around at what would become her place with you before looking at your limp, unconscious body. "We're home!"

Home was with you.

With a kick to the door, it closed behind you two as she hurried you to your room.

Once inside, Natasha was happy to find that not much, if anything, had changed since she last visited. She said hi to your cat, who purred at the sight of the blonde.

Natasha loved your cat and couldn't wait to be a good cat mom.

Natasha took you and gently placed you on the bed before looking around the room. She was looking for something. Natasha closed the bedroom door and went back, kicking the floorboard to the right of your end table, and up it flipped. She bent down and pulled out a small black backpack she stored two years ago.

Opening it up to make sure everything was still there. She knew you probably didn't even know that it existed. (You hadn't.) But Natasha had to be sure.

Dumping out the bag's contents, she was happy to see that nothing was missing. But she still took inventory. 5 Widow Bites. 1 Pistol. 12 Bullets. 1 Set of Handcuffs. 1 Knife. 3 Needles of the Sleeping Agent. 1 Burner Phone.

Finally, 2 very dry Nutri-Grain Bar.

Natasha kept the loaded gun, knife, and handcuffs out of the bag and placed it on the desk in the corner of your room. The bag moved to the edge of the bed—no point in hiding it now.

"Oh, Y/N!" Natasha sat next to your upper body, passed out on the bed. She spoke as her soft hand ran through your hair. It calmed Natasha. "You're so pretty, Y/N."

Natasha looked over your still-covered body before moving her hand down your back. "Here. Come on." She flipped you over onto your back and pulled you more onto the bed.

Natasha's eyes found your face. "Baby, I can't wait for the rest of our lives." Natasha bit her lip as she spoke to you. Hopefully, and giddy for the future. "We're going to be so happy." Natasha leaned down and planted a kiss at the top of your head. "You still smell like coconut. I still don't really like that shampoo, but I know how much you do." Natasha smiled as if this was a normal conversation before giving you another kiss. Just as one of her hands began to snake its way across your stomach before landing at your hip.

"I love you."

Natasha couldn't help herself. She smiled brightly as she said those words out loud to you for the first time.

Natasha's lips found the side of your face again and again. She always loved how soft you felt against her. Delicate. Like something Natasha wanted to cherish. Keep perfect. Forever.

But there was also that part inside of her. The side of Natasha that wanted to own you. Take that softness and fuck it out of you. Damage you. Hurt you.

Both were fighting for control.

Regardless, Natasha slid down the zipper of your unbuttoned jeans and slipped her hand over your black cotton panties. Moaning as her stomach flipped in the joys of touching you, feeling your heat on her fingers. Letting excitement wave over her, she cupped your pussy before dragging her index finger up over your growing wet-covered folds. "Oh fuck, baby!" Natasha moaned before looking at the side of your face.

Natasha smiles to herself. She leans over and kisses your cheek, and quickly removes her hand from your recently shaved pussy.

Natasha licks the little slick on her fingers off.

Natasha savored the taste before she laid flat on her back. Lifting her ass as she tore off the black jeans she was wearing along with her red panties. Choosing to keep her slightly raised pullover hoodie on, Natasha grabbed your left wrist. "I want you to feel me..." Natasha looked over and spoke to you. "I want you to feel how wet you make me, Y/N! How tight I am for you. I've been waiting."

With that, Natasha kept her eyes on your left hand as she moved it down her toned stomach. The tips of your fingers brushing over her skin, making her squirm in anticipation for what's to come.

Moving them further down, Natasha gasps as your hand gets pushed down onto the top of Natasha's bare pussy. "This is for you." She moans as she pushed your hand further down. Directing your middle and ring finger to her clit. "Oh fuck!" She moans and grows wetter at your unconscious touch.

"Keep going. Keep going!" Natasha directs your fingers to move in a circular motion. Before her mouth drops as your fingers get pushed over The Black Widows dripping pussy. She moans and grips your hand. "Right there." Natasha moves your fingers around her opening for you.

"It's for you, baby. Come on. I want you to fuck me!" She gives your hand one more push and bucks when your fingers easily slide into her. Natasha loudly moans while her left hand grips the comforter of the bed.

Your fingers feel perfect inside of her.

Natasha can't get over that.

She thinks you were made for her.

Slowly, Natasha starts to move herself against your fingers. Her hips working overtime. Only using her right hand to position your hand better. "Oh my God!" Natasha smiles as a shaky breath comes out. You're doing this to her. You're making her feel this good. You're fucking her right.

Natasha is rocking her hips up and down your slick fingers. You're pushing her closer and closer. "Oh god!" She grunts as she slams the back of your hand to feel you deeper, indirectly slapping her pussy and clit that, sends a wave of pain that morphs into pleasure. "Oh yes!"

Natasha does it repeatedly while her left-hand works on her clit. Her middle fingers pushes the bud of it up as she continues her circular motion. "That's it, baby! Make me cum! Make me fucking cum!" She turns her head to you and stares at your unconscious body. "You're doing so well, baby."

If you were awake right now, you'd feel Natasha's wetness run down your fingers. Into your palms. And down your wrist. You'd hear her moans and screams of pleasure as she makes herself cum with your fingers. "Oh my God!" Natasha Romanoff jolts up. "Y/N, I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Oh fuck! Oh, fuck, baby.."

Natasha rides her orgasm out and smiles when she falls back onto the bed. She turns and looks at your body. "You made me feel so good."

You're perfect.

As she catches her breath, Natasha gently pulls your fingers out and brings them up to her mouth. She marvels at the sight of you now covered in her before she takes her tongue and runs it over your fingers. Enjoying the taste of herself. "I can't wait to taste you." Now that we're together, she forgot to add.

Natasha insets your finger back into her mouth. Loudly sucking on them and moaning before shoving your fingers to the back of her throat, making herself gag on them. She repeats the action.

"Will you let me do that to you?" Natasha says after she's pulled them out and caught her breath. "Hmm?" She licks them again. "Will you gag for me?" She kisses your ring finger and twirls it around. "I wonder..."

Natasha kisses you one more time as she gently places your hand down and moves her body to lay half of it on you. "I wonder what you won't do now that you're mine." She takes your chin in her hand and moves it in her direction. "I can't wait for you to be awake. For us." Natasha deeply kisses your lips as her hand quickly pushes your boobs up. "But first." Natasha releases you and gets up from the bed. She takes off the rest of her clothes and tosses them into your now-shared laundry basket before moving to the desk where her belongings are located.

"I need to take care of a few things."

_

Slowly, your body starts to stir awake.

You go to move to your side but wince when you land on your arm. You are unsure why it hurts, but you are too stiff and tired to worry about that right now. But for some reason, since you're awakening, your body isn't going back to sleep.

Silent bells are ringing in your head, but you don't know they're there.

You groan and manage to flip your body onto its stomach. This position feels terrific, especially since you feel the coolness of the bedsheet against your body. You snuggle your face into your pillow- your eyes shoot open.

You don't remember coming home...

You open your eyes wider and take a look around the room. It's your room. You're relieved to see that but grow more worried at your nonexistent memory of getting home.

Plus, it looks like things around the room are off... you turn your tired back against the mattress and find yourself surprised to have another person in the room.

A blonde-haired woman wearing one of your college sweatshirts looking through one of your old journals... Once again, the alarm in your head is not alerting you. It's distant and faded.

"That's my shirt..?" Your groggy voice makes the woman look up with a smile.

To you, the woman's smile looks like a kid on Christmas morning.

To Natasha, she's testing out how you're gonna act.

"Hi!" The woman gets up with a glass of water from the chair at your desk. The action reveals to you that it looks like she's not wearing any bottoms, but you can't tell because of the length of her- your sweatshirt. The blonde rounds the bed and carefully gets on her knees before you on the floor. She looks kindly at you as your eyes quickly scan her face and exposed legs. "Nice to see you up." She says to you. Innocently enough. "How are you feeling?" She sweetly asks as she hands you the glass of water.

"I don't- I don't remember..." You say, making the blonde smile wider. "I was walking..." You struggle to come up with anything after that. It's like your mind went blank.

Why couldn't you remember?

You shake your head and take a few sips from the glass before the blonde takes it from you to place on your bedside table—a kind gesture on the outside. But the less you know about the pheromonal powder agent you just ingested, the better.

"Oh, honey..." The blonde lifts and places her hand on yours. The soft contact makes you feel warmer. However, the feeling of this being wrong is still unreachable to you. Natasha smiles when you don't pull away. The drugs from before and now are working. "Those men really did a number on you, huh?"

Men? You think as Natasha watches your face.

"You know you're lucky I was there," Natasha says as she rises from her kneeling position to stand in front of you. Now she towers you, and you feel her legs brush past your own. You don't stop her as she moves closer to you. She raises a hand and pushes some of your hair back. "A man grabbed you and wanted to hurt you, but I was there to stop them. But honey, I think they drugged you..."

Her touch and voice were soothing. She felt and smelled wonderful. You even did your best to not react to the pet name she gave you. "Dru-drugged me?" Once again, the bells should be going off, but Natasha knows exactly what she's doing. "Yeah, I got you off the train, but as we were walking, you started to walk funny. Your face got sleepy." She says this while looking into your eyes. She has her gaze fixated on you, and it pulls you in. "But you were smart." The blonde smiles down at you. "You made sure to tell me where you lived so I could get you home safe." Her raspy voice makes you smile, but her words are making you question if that happened... but you don't remember...

"Are you okay?" She asks as you're thinking. You look back up at her concerned face. "Yeah.. I- I was just trying to remember..." Natasha nods and moves her body in between your legs. Spreading them further apart. "What did you say your name was again?" You ask, making Natasha laugh. "I didn't. Good try, though." She places her hands on your shoulders. She's bold. "What's the matter? You don't trust me?" Something about the way she says it makes you feel sick and guilty for even thinking that you didn't trust her.

Natasha, of course, knows this.

"No- no, I trust you! I'm sorry!" You reach your hands out and place them on Natasha's covered hips. Natasha smiles at your action while faking a sad sniffle. "My name is Natasha." You look over the blonde and smile.

That's when it clicks.

"Natasha Romanoff." Natasha's frown turns into a smile. "Wow, you know who I am?" She fakes surprise and turns on the innocence. You nod with your mind, unable to think about anything else but her. "Wow! I got saved by The Black Widow."

Natasha watches as you process this faux information. Gosh, you look so cute. "I guess I was lucky, huh?" You look at her, earning a chuckle. "I just didn't want anything to happen to you," Natasha says, warming your heart. "You're too perfect." She adds in a low whisper. Something you catch that makes your brain fuzzy.

However, before you can do or say anything else, Natasha pushes her body closer to you. Carefully, she watches your eyes as she lifts one leg over yours. Placing one knee on the bed next to your hips before doing the same with the other. She smiles down at you as her bare ass finds itself sitting in your lap.

You feel her wet pussy on your tight black bike shorts.

"Is this okay?" She whispers as she brings her face close enough to yours to feel her breath on your ear. You inhale her scent and feel the butterflies in your stomach.

"More than okay, Natasha..." You find yourself saying. The alarms in your head have officially been silenced. You should be asking why she's doing this, why she's still here. You shouldn't be accepting her advances. But yet you aren't questioning her. You accept her actions with a smile.

She smiles back.

"You know..." Natasha leans down and kisses your cheek. "I'll always protect you." You feel a blush on your face when her soft lips touch your skin again. "I've loved you for so long, and now I get to show you." Natasha lifts her face away from you to look at your eyes flutter.

Natasha sees how defenseless you are now.

The drugs have all worked.

"You love me?" You question as you move your hands down from Natasha's hips to her thighs. The touch of her feels cool to your warm hands. You peer into her green eyes and see them sparkle. "For years, I've loved you." She unwraps her arms from around you and places them on your hands. She moves them up from her thighs to under what used to be your shirt. You feel the bend of her hips and the softness of the sides of her body as your fingertips brush past their way to her nipples.

She pushes your hand to grope her boobs.

"For years, I've wanted you, and now I have you. Don't I?"

Natasha slowly moves her hips back and forth, sending a wave of pleasure through her body as her wet clit brushes up and down the end seam of your bike shorts. She moans and whimpers while looking at you, waiting for an answer. "Don't I, Y/N?!" You push and pull her boobs as you look at Natasha Romanoff acting like a slut for you. "Yes. Yes, Natasha! You have me!"

"I'm yours!" You wanted to scream.

"Good girl." She whispers as she leans down and kisses you again and again. Her tongue pushing its way into your mouth. The taste of her is salvia is electrifying. The pleasure you feel makes you moan into her mouth. Natasha smirks as you push yourself deeper and closer to The Black Widow.

Natasha reaches down as you two fall onto the bed to places her hand in the middle of your bike shorts. She begins rubbing your core up and down as her hand pushes your legs open. "Come on, baby. Open up for me."

You nod with your eyes closed and feel Natasha's fingers slow down in speed as she now gently brushes her fingers past your wet clit seeping through the shorts.

Each time she touches it, you jump.

And then. Natasha pulls her hands away from you: nothing but the cool air touching the wet spot on your shorts. You feel needy and frustrated. You open your eyes to see Natasha on her knees, lifting her shirt off her body. Her blonde hair falls back into place right above her shoulder.

She smiles at you and watches as you take her in.

You feel your mouth become dry as you look up at Natasha's toned stomach. A set of abs staring at you. You move from her perfect breast and hard pink nipples to her shoulders and biceps. The definition in her arms makes you close your mouth to hold in a noise that would've been embarrassing.

You look up at her neck—a smile when you see a cute mole that was previously hidden. Finally, you bring your eyes to her face and the smirk on her lips.

"Can I take these off?" Natasha points down to your bike shorts. You nod, making Natasha internally laugh. The shorts were coming off no matter what your answer was.

You pull your head from Natasaba's gaze and watch as Natasha's left hand goes to the bottom seam of your shorts and lifts them up from your body.

Once again, her touch makes your skin flush with pleasure. It's as if you're addicted to her and her touch.

Natasha pulls her right arm from behind herself, and that's when you drop your mouth. "Na-natasha, what's that?"

"Did I say you can speak?"

You sit stunned as the knife in her hand comes closer to your body. You weren't aware that you couldn't speak unless spoken to, but... di- did Natasha expect that of you? Did she tell you, and you just forgot?

"Look at me." She sternly asks of you. "Not at the knife but at me." The movement of the knife doesn't stop when you pull your eyes to Natasha and her beautiful green ones. "What did I say earlier?" She asks. "Think real hard and then answer me, okay." Her eyes leave you as she focuses on the blade, meeting the bottom seam of your shorts. You keep your eyes on Natasha's face and hear the ripping sound of your shorts as she goes further and further up.

She stops at your hip close to the top seam when you decide to speak up.

"That you'll always protect me." Natasha smiles wide. You listened and answered her perfectly. Natasha smiles and can't help herself when she leans in and kisses you. "Good job." She says with care dripping from her lips. "What else did I say?"

"That you love me."

Natasha nods. "I do love you." She leans in and, with the knife still in her left hand, drags up the rest of the way. Her lips touch yours at the same time the blade cuts through your shorts.

Immediately, Natasha tosses the knife off the bed. It clatters on the floor, making you jump into Natasha's lips again. "Sorry." You say when she backs away. "It's okay." The blonde tells you. "As long as you know that I would never hurt you, right?"

"Right." You agree easily.

Natasha smiles as she pulls at the fabric resting on your pussy. The coating sticks to you as she pulls it further away until the string of wetness breaks mid-air. Falling back onto your thigh. "Did Mommy make you feel this way?"

She knows that she did.

But she wants to hear you say it.

"Yes." Natasha brings her fingers back to where they belong. "Yes, what?" She glides her middle finger over your pink mound. You moan and shudder.

"Yes, Mommy."

_

Natasha should've left soon after that night. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

She knew her friends needed her help, but she couldn't leave you. She finally had you, and you had her. Why would she want to jeopardize that?

So as, the days turned into weeks to months to years. Natasha felt the pressure to run continue to build.

In contrast, as the days turned into weeks to months to years. You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the one who saved you. The Black Widow. The cute blonde hero who made you breakfast in bed. The woman who stayed with you. The one who whispered sweet nothings into your ear every night as you drifted asleep. The woman who saved the world repeatedly could now be there for you.

Natasha even let it be known that you didn't have to work anymore. She had an array of offshore accounts and wanted to spoil you, and you, in turn, let her.

You blushed when she looked your way and never got tired of seeing her smile. A goddess herself sculpted her body, and Natasha happily made sure you came for her. Only her.

"Hey, what's going on?"

You walked out of your and Natasha's bedroom after finding the bed empty to see her in the living room going over her weaponry. Something you didn't like, but you trusted Natasha with them. Knowing she would never harm you.

It was early afternoon, and after your morning trip to the farmers market, followed by some light grocery shopping, you came home to Natasha, waiting with some brunch and a board game.

You took a nap after that, and while you slept, Natasha made her decision.

"They need me."

You knew who Natasha was talking about. It wasn't a secret that you were dating Natasha Romanoff. Well, it was a secret to everyone else. But you get my point. You were dating a fugitive labeled that by the United Nations on account of the Sokovian Accords—an ex-Avenger who still wanted to help.

"What if I don't want you to go." You asked with hurt in your voice. You finally had the love of your life. Someone you weren't even looking for, and now she wanted to go?

"Baby..." She put her gun on the coffee table and made her way to you. Wrapping her arms around you as you wrapped around her body. "I don't want to go..." A white lie, considering her little weekend-avenging trips from time to time weren't enough. "But I have to. To protect us. To protect you." The truth.

"Rogers needs me. Plus, with Vision and Wanda running around trying to be a normal couple again. He really needs the help."

You nodded into Natasha's shoulder. You hated that she was right. "How long?" Natasha sighed. She really didn't know how long it would be.

"Give me two weeks, and I'll be back."

You deflated, and your heart formed cracks. You didn't want her to leave, and you didn't want her to go for that long!

Natasha started kissing your head and rubbing your back, and you didn't understand why until you felt the tears leaving your eyes. You were crying.

Natasha hated it. She hated hearing how heartbroken you were. But at the same time, she loved it. You were hers. And she was yours.

"I love you Y/N. I'll be back before you know it."

"I love you, Natty. Please be careful."

_

Natasha wasn't even gone for two weeks. In fact, her time with Captain and Birdboy lasted a mere pair of days.

On day 3, Vision turned off his transponder.

Within 48 hours, half of everything was dust.

When Natasha found the others at the corpse of the synthezoid. Two people ran through Natasha's mind.

Yelena.

And you.

_

"Y/N!"

Natasha screamed as she busted open the door to your shared space. She threw her useless phone onto the counter as she ran through the living room, still in her uniform. Passing by the TV that sat on the emergency broadcast. "Y/N!" She called out again as she stopped at the bedroom door. "Please be here. Please be alive.."

Natasha had tears in her eyes as she slowly opened the bedroom door. Her breath left her lips in a gasp before she blinked away tears that were escaping. She carefully made her way to the bed and sat down.

You turned over as you felt the bed shift. Then you opened your eyes when you felt Natasha's presence. "Natasha? Natasha!" You sprung up from the bed and collided into her body.

You both wept as the relief flooded your combined emotions. "You're alive..." Natasha whispered into your head before inhaling.

She grew to love your shampoo.

"I miss you." You said. "Don't worry, Detka. I'm here. I'm here." Natasha kissed the side of your head before leaning back and kissing your mouth.

God, she missed your lips and the softness of your cheeks as you tried to hide your blush.

"I miss you." You repeated, confusing Natasha.

"Babe?" She pulled back and held your head in her hands. Her green eyes scanned your beautiful face and saw nothing wrong until a speck of dust flew off your nose. "No.." Natasha whispered with pain. "Y/N." She kept your face in her hands as little by little. You ceased to exist. "Y/N!" Her hands started to be covered.

"I miss you."

"Y/N, please no! No! Please!"

"I miss-" "Stop it!" "Nata-"

"No!" She screamed and screamed as you vanished until she woke up thrashing in her bed at the compound. Alone. Gun drawn and ready...

"Whatever it takes..." Whispered by you... Is this the last thing Natasha always heard when she woke up from her nightmares..

Natasha looks around the room with bags under her red, dried eyes and chapped lips. She struggles every day to live. She hates herself for leaving.

She hates that the last thing you told her was, "be careful."

She is hurt. Alone. Scared.

She misses you.

Every day, she tries and uses her resources to find a way to bring everyone back. But so far, she's always coming up empty-handed.

The worst part is, is that even after three years of you being gone. Natasha never told anyone. You were a secret to everyone else.

But to Natasha, you were everything.

dividers by @/benkeibear & @/firefly-graphics

[lovinpelova]

make up for lost time | j. fleming

summary; jessie gets a new car after finally passing her drivers test in the states, you've been away far longer than wanted. [SMUT]

🎵 preach - drake

the one problem with being an international student-athlete is having to be away from family eight months a year, then once you get used to it having to be away from friends for the next four months, then repeating it. the one thing that makes it even harder to deal with is the fact that your girlfriend is canadian, meaning you're stuck in the uk five hours ahead and over 3,600 miles away from the love of your life.

most people would say you're insane to call a long-distance girlfriend the love of your life but you ignore them, you're both nineteen and fully aware of who you are, including how much you love each other and how happy you are together. that's all that matters to the both of you, you're making long-distance work the four months away and spending as much time as possible together the other eight months which is considerably easy since you're roommates.

(that and jessie has a contract lined up with chelsea the same year you plan to sign for arsenal, so you're going to be living not even a couple hours away from each other when you both leave ucla in close to two years time.)

your girlfriend texted you in the morning that she wouldn't be able to pick you up from the airport like usual whenever you came back from seeing your family as she was getting her car after finally passing her drivers test, the canadian having to pass it in canada and only being home four months a year meant all the slots were booked- apart from a last minute clearance four weeks ago.

instead you got a lift to your dorm from a friend in one of your classes, leaving all your suitcases by your bed just the same way jessie had done with hers, both of you too impatient to unpack and figuring it wouldn't harm anyone waiting until tomorrow as you had eight months to worry about it. your phone lit up with a notification from the midfielder, informing you she was outside in her 'new ride' as she called it.

a couple minutes walk and you were in the parking lot of the ucla campus, looking around for a car with a familiar face in the drivers seat or something else to indicate jessie was nearby. you had no luck until you heard someone blasting britney spears with their windows down, headed to park right in front of you with your girlfriend leaning over the console to yell in your face.

"get in loser we're going shopping!"

you laughed with the canadian as she turned down the music and wound the windows up whilst you got into her car, pulling her in for a passionate kiss by the collar of her ucla hoodie as she gladly kissed back. one of her hands trailed over the console seperating you and gripped your thigh lovingly, stroking the skin with her thumb as you both smiled against each others mouths.

"i love the smell of a new car."

"mmm... me too."

your girlfriend grinned before leaning in for another kiss, making sure it didn't go too far by leaving you with a couple pecks as she pulled away and insisted you put on your seatbelt before driving out of college. you'd only been able to get a late flight home so it was already nine pm, meaning if you wanted food you'd most likely go for takeaway and drive about whilst eating it- which is exactly what you did. you blasted music whilst eating your mcdonalds and having the occasional sip of your milkshakes, jessie needing to be fed by you so she wasn't too distracted.

"come on y/n, gimme the chip!"

"gonna have to try harder than that jessie!"

you chuckled at her attempts to get her last bit of food as you pulled it away from her mouth at the last second multiple times, eventually deciding enough was enough and feeding it to her as she pulled into an empty parking lot to have a break from driving. when i say empty, i mean empty- it was close to midnight now anyways so you were probably the only people awake around the ucla area.

"driving is fun but doing it aimlessly for three hours isn't."

"your car smells like takeout now."

you completely ignored jessies comment as there was no solution to it - you couldn't drive as you hadn't gotten a test slot in the uk yet so she was designated pilot for now - instead focusing on the way her new car no longer smelled new, more like mcdonalds with a tiny hint of her perfume.

"that is what happens when you eat a takeaway in the car."

your girlfriend replied sarcastically whilst turning the engine off, both of you unbuckling your seatbelts as you cleaned up your mess and moved the rubbish bag onto the backseat to deal with later. as you climbed back into your seat after leaning over the armrest you caught jessie staring at your thighs - or your ass, maybe both knowing her - and smirked at the blush covering her cheeks when she met your eyes.

"see something you like, baby canada?"

"i see a lot of what i like, baby england."

the sudden wave of confidence jessie wore shocked you turned you on but you weren't complaining, she was always so shy even when it was just you two. unless she was drunk off a win or alcohol she only became a tiny bit less reserved around you. you scoffed at the nickname she'd given you for debuting internationally at the same age as her, flicking her shoulder before leaning in to kiss her sweetly.

"you taste like a chocolate milkshake."

you laughed against her lips, the canadian shaking her head at you lightly as she kissed you back.

"you taste like a vanilla milkshake."

she countered, one of her hands holding your face gently as you both smiled into the kiss, her free hand coming to rest high up on your thigh as yours held her shoulders to ground yourself. the kiss quickly became heated, having been away from her for four months and only pecking her on the lips a couple times so far had been torture for you- seemingly for her too judging by the way she was desperately trying to deepen it.

the hand resting on your face trailed down to your hip and tugged you closer, a grunt of disapproval leaving her lips as the armrest blocked you from moving further. wanting this to go further, you climbed over the armrest as she read your mind straight away, pushing her seat back as far as it could go so she was lying down with plenty of legroom.

you straddled her lap just like you had done many times before whilst flipping your hair to one side, your hands resting on her chest and slipping underneath her hoodie to feel her toned abs as you continued to heatedly makeout. jessie smiled against your lips once you let out a moan into her mouth, obviously a result of the way she'd just gripped your ass before smacking it and moving her hands to grip your hips possessively.

"you like that baby?"

she whispered cockily whilst trailing her lips down your neck, hips starting to grind in unison with your nails digging into her skin and no doubt leaving their mark.

"don't start with that cocky shit, you know what i like."

you mumbled with your head thrown back, the midfielder chuckling at your visibly frustrated nature. hips desperate for friction, hands clawing at any bit of skin you could find, mouth whimpering and breathing ragged was all jessie needed to know you wanted more.

she couldn't believe this, not even seven hours after buying her first car she was christening it with the hottest girl she'd ever seen in her life getting off on her lap. her parents would be so disappointed right now, but she was so happy to finally see you again- touch you again that she couldn't care less.

without a care in the world she tugged off your shirt and threw it away, sitting up to take off her hoodie and shirt, a needy moan leaving your mouth at the sight of her body. if you were patient enough you'd lick every inch of her skin right now, but with the way her eyes were devouring your chest before her mouth could catch up you definitely didn't have the patience.

"missed you s'much jess."

she hummed up at you before lying down again, one hand guiding you to lie down on top of her like before prior to it travelling to your breasts, massaging them just the way you liked. she smiled when you let out a heavy breath, head falling onto her shoulder and tucking itself into her neck.

"did you touch yourself whilst i was away?"

you whined helplessly at her question, nodding your head shyly with your lips trailing kisses down her neck and leaving marks in their wake.

"how many times y/n?"

"only twice, didn't finish though. my fingers aren't the same as yours."

jessie smiled at your response and pulled you into another heated kiss, her tongue slipping in to glide against yours sloppily with her hands tracing the waistband of your shorts.

"want a reminder of how good my fingers feel?"

you nodded your head rapidly before pulling her into another kiss, sighing when you felt her fingers break past the waistband and trace the crevice of your thigh, stopping your movements completely when she grazed her knuckles against your clit.

"jess-"

the canadian hummed in acknowledgement, slowly sinking her fingers into you whilst she held eye contact and watched the way your mouth fell open. by the time she was down to her knuckles you'd sat up to make sure she got as deep as possible, feeling her sink an inch further as you moaned in unison. sounds like she missed being inside you too.

she started moving her fingers slowly as she stared up at you, your head thrown back in pleasure as she stretched you out deliciously with two thick fingers.

"faster, jessie- faster."

whatever her girl wants, her girl gets.

she started moving her fingers much faster inside of you, needing to see you fall apart on her digits after four months of going without it. her other hand gripped your thigh as yours found purchase on her shoulders once more, the brunette moaning alongside you at the sight. she wasn't moving fast enough or deep enough, she was being too careful, restricting herself too much.

you started bouncing your hips up and down in rhythm with her thrusts, closing your eyes in pleasure and scratching along her chest when she was finally moving fast enough and deep enough. she curled her fingers to reach that spongey spot inside of you, making you almost scream out her name as she smiled cockily up at you and moved to sit up with you.

her free hand held your lower back so you were sat chest to chest, the new angle meaning you couldn't move your hips anymore, only jessie could move her fingers- and god was she doing that just right.

she knew how to fuck you, and she knew how to fuck you good.

"you feel so good, jess. just like that."

you chanted as she pistoned her fingers into your g-spot repeatedly, moving her lips to leave love bites all over your body wherever she could whilst your hands scratched at her back and tugged on her hair.

"you like that baby? that feel good, huh?"

"don't stop- god, please don't stop babe."

your head fell back further as moans continuously spilled past your lips, jessie spurring you on with endless words of praise.

"c'mon baby, you can be louder than that. what's my name? who's fucking you this good?"

"you- you're fucking me this good!"

"didn't know that was my name now?"

her thumb came up to rub your clit at the perfect pressure, fingers continuing to curl into you relentlessly as her free hand grabbed your neck and pulled you into a dominating kiss. you moaned into her mouth again and again and again, the brunette continuing to spur you on with her explicit dirty talk of what she wanted to do to you and expertise on how to finger you into an orgasm.

"what's my name babygirl? who are you gonna cum for? who's gonna be licking you off her fingers later on, hm? who do you belong to?"

"jess- god! i'm gonna- jessie! fuck, yes jessie!"

you moaned into the humid air her car was now filled with as you came undone over her fingers, grinding your hips against her knuckles as she slowed down her thrusts and smiled up at you. jessie loved making you say her name during sex- but she adored when you screamed it out whilst you came all over her fingers or tongue, exactly the way you did just then.

"such a good girl. so good for me, so pretty. all mine."

you nodded wordlessly as she peppered sweet kisses over your body wherever she could reach, soothing the vicious love bites she'd left behind when she really got riled up by you moaning out her name a couple moments ago. the pair of you breathed heavily into each others necks whilst jessie pulled her fingers out of you, moving so you could see her bring her fingers to her mouth and suck your arousal off them. her eyes rolled into the back of her head momentarily as she moaned against her digits, swallowing all the juices she collected and smiling up at you whilst you shook your head in disbelief of how attractive she was.

"if i could i'd have you fuck me for a week straight."

you joked, both of you laughing before kissing sweetly, jessie letting you climb back into the passenger seat once you'd calmed down fully from your high and moving her seat back to normal. you threw on her shirt and gave her the hoodie she wore to put on again, not having a clue where she threw your clothes in the heat of the moment.

"take it you like the new car then?"

[quirklezz]

Rumor has it (Part 3) | Tom Blyth

pairing: Tom Blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary: Ever since the premiere of tbosas fans of yours have been shipping you with your costar, Tom Blyth. Is it all just rumors or were they right all along?

a/n: I’m loving all the support I’ve been getting with this mini series so here are the links to part 1 & part 2 if you haven’t been caught up! As always feedback is appreciated and requests are open!

ynusername Say hello to my nephew, Lenny 🐶 @rachelzegler @tomblyth

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user1 not YN calling Lenny her nephew I CANT

↳ user3 I mean her and Rachel are practically sisters at this point 🥺

↳ user1 true

user4 I never wanted to be a dog so bad in my entire life until now

↳ user2 BARKBARKBARKBARK

↳ user5 why do I relate to this comment so bad 😫

user6 I guess that makes Tom the uncle

user2 Didn’t Tom say he’s getting a dog in an interview and the breed he mentioned is YN’s favorite

↳ user3 they’ll make great dog parents

rachelzegler come back Lenny misses you two 😭

↳ user5 Lenny is a real one

↳ user4 If YN and Tom left me I’d be missing them too

↳ user2 we need more Lenny content from them pls

tomyndaily It’s the way he’s looking at @ynusername in this pic for me 😫

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user3 Idk who to be jealous of YN or Rachel?!

↳ user1 same

↳ user6 I’m jealous of Tom tbh 😤

user2 He looks at her with so much love and admiration

↳ user4 men take notes ✍️

user5 can’t wait to see more of them on the red carpet soon

↳ user2 I just know they’re going to slay

ynusername Coryo may not be a gentleman, but @tomblyth sure is. Tbosas is out now in theaters everywhere!! 🌹🎶🐍

view all comments

user3 the Taylor Swift reference!!

↳ user1 she’s not wrong though

↳ user2 not mother quoting mother

user4 I wish Tom Blyth was real 😭

↳ ynusername me too 😔

↳ user5 OMG YALL SHE REPLIED

↳ user3 she’s too funny

tomyndaily I love how she took this while Tom picked her up from the airport

↳ user6 proof?

↳ tomyndaily posted in stories

rachelzegler did you just Mike Wazowski me? 🙃

↳ ynusername I just realized I did after posting it sorry not sorry 😆

user1 YALL TOM LIKED HER POST

↳ user5 as he should

yntomsources A old pic of Tom at @ynusername house back in 2022 while they were filming tbosas taking from her insta stories

view all comments

user4 I never seen this pic before

user2 buzzcut Tom for the win

↳ user3 agree to disagree

↳ user1 it’s not that serious

user5 I went to her stories but I don’t see it anywhere 🤔

↳ yntomsources she deleted it

↳ user6 I guess she wasn’t a fan of the buzzcut 🫢

↳ user4 team flowing locks is better

user2 we have to spam her now to see which she prefers skskskskksksks

↳ user3 BET

taglist: @bada-lee-ily (lmk if anyone else would like to be tagged in future projects)

[love-byers]

mike is dismissive of el the whole day and obsessed with their friends

i've posted before about how weird mikes dialogue is in the airport & rink o mania

it seems no matter how many times el says the day is about them and re-directs when he asks about their california life he keeps asking. it's to the point he disregards el and acts disinterested.

we all know he was acting face the whole first day in lenora. but these lines just keep jumping out at me

the first offense:

"Then after burritos I want to go to Rink-O-Mania."

"Rink-O-Mania, okay what's Rink-O-Mania?"

"It's the most fun place in Lenora. They have skating and games--"

"Okay. that sounds awesome. Are your friends gonna meet us there?" (he glances at will when he says "friends" but some ppl will never believe that so whatever)

guys. mike wheeler. the same mike wheeler who an episode before was super pissed with lucas for making new friends. same mike wheeler who was worried he'd lost will to a bunch of new friends. same mike wheeler who worriedly asked will if he'd find a new party. same mike wheeler who was hell bent on not letting max into the party because he was so attached to their friend group.

why does mike wheeler gaf about their california friends?? el says she wants the day to be about her and mike. why would mike not want the day to be about him and el? 1. i think it's because he's not in love with el and was more worried about making will jealous and 2. i think it's because he's trying to take a dig at will, hence why he looks at him when he says friends. "oh yeah, are your friends gonna meet us there? your super nice awesome friends? all the new friends you made without me?"

the second offense:

when they're getting their skates at rink o mania

"Bitchin' right?"

"Yeah, yeah, bitchin', do you come here a lot?"

he is so dismissive of when she says bitchin. she's making a reference to a fun memory and he's just like "yeah, yeah bitchin for sure totally so ANYWAYS do you guys come here a lot? to hang out with people who aren't me?"

ive posted before about how a lot of things mike says feels rehearsed. this is one of them. he was so focused on asking if they go there a lot he completely dismissed el.

and remember how they were last summer. so immersed with each other they didn't care about anyone else. now all of a sudden mike cares about hanging out with her friends?? AND remember he is supposedly madly in love with her.

and two days after this mike is saying he and will should be a team. the two of them.

idk man it's weird

[lunajay33]

Am I Good Enough

🩸🖤♟️🍷

Summary: You were on a solo trip to Italy taking a tour of an old castle when everything changes, but will this random guy accept you for who’s and what you are?

Pairing: Alec Volturi x human f!reader

•Masterlist•

Taking a trip to Italy was a last minute decision, firstly needing a break from my boring life and for some reason Italy always just called to me, like there was something waiting there for me

After a long tire some flight I finally landed in Italy, stepping out into the hot heat, waving down a taxi before anyone else could cut infront of me, only traveling with my backpack for easy travel, I told the driver to take me to Volterra, only an hour drive from the airport, seeing pictures of it on a guide and thought it would be a beautiful start to my trip

Finally we arrived in volterra, I paid and now standing infront of this beautiful castle, the town was fully stone built, it was beautiful unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, as I was walking down the street I got stopped by a woman, her hair luscious, he skin was flawless, her eyes so beautiful even though they must be contacts since they were such a rich red, her smile enticing

“Hi there you seem like a girl who’d love a good tour and I just so happen to be showing the castle right now for free! Does that interest you at all?” Her voice was so melodic like she was a siren I was pulled in nodding immediately watching as her smile grew, I followed her to the castle like a puppy meeting up with a group of other tourists

She led us through the castle not stopping to tell us about anything interesting we passed, finally we got to a set of big wooden door that looked like they weighed a ton but she pushed them open with ease, there beyond the doors was a huge room, marble and tile covered every inch, three thrones sat on the pedestal further back in the room, where three men sat seemingly looming over us all, others stood around the room watching us like they were ready to pounce, the doors behind us slammed soon hearing the first scream of many, it was a blood bath as the people dressed in black went from person to person until I was the only one standing

“It seems we missed one brothers and sisters”

“I’ve got her” a tall man said as he started right for me before he was stopped by the older man that sat on the throne

“WAIT” his voice boomed through the chamber, everyone stopping to look at him

He got up off the throne seemingly weak as he glided over to me

“Dear child it seems someone here has been waiting for you for a long long time” he smiled as he turned to a guy who was the most ethereal beautiful person I’ve ever seen, everything about him lured me in, he eyed me the same way and in an instant he was infront of me

“My Lord are you sure about this, she is my mate?”

“Yes child she is your other half”

“But she is human, this can’t be”

“It was meant to be, don’t over think this, it’s the best gift the universe could give you”

“Come we must talk” he said as he led me back out through the doors, silently walking through the vast halls until we finally made it to a huge room decorated in black and ruby red, books covering the walls

“Sit” he demanded as he gestured to the bed

“You haven’t said a word this whole time you must be in shock” he said sitting opposite of me on the bed

“No……surprisingly I’m the calmest I’ve ever been, but I still don’t know what’s going on”

“I must admit you are cute, most beautiful human I’ve ever seen” his words made the blood rush to my cheeks making him smile

“I’d say the same for you but I don’t quite think you’re human….right?”

“You’d be right my rose, we are vampires some much older than others but we rule over the vampiric world, we enforce the laws so the humans don’t become suspicious about our kind”

“Then why are you telling me, why didn’t you just kill me like everyone else in the room”

“Some of us vampires have special powers, the one that talked to you was Marcus one of our lords, he can sense the bond of those who are mated to each other, he could sense that we are meant to be with one another” my heart was racing fast, I was sure he could hear it

“Mates? That’s…..are you sure I mean I’m just a human am I good enough for you?” His eyes softened for the first time

“We will figure this out this isn’t the first time a vampire has been mated to a human, I just got lucky enough to get such a diamond”

It’s been a month now and it’s been well……amazing I didn’t get a lot of alone time with Alec seeing he had a lot of guard duty but when he’d wake me at night so I could curl up to him as he held me, sometimes he’d leave cute notes in the books I’d be reading that always got my heart beating, sometimes leaving red roses on the table for me whenever he had to work late, he made me feel like a goddess, giving me a love I’ve never thought I’d feel before…….well until today

Walking into the library to grab another book hoping to find something more intriguing than the books Alec had collected over the years

Looking on the second balcony I stopped when I heard voices on the main level, Alec always warned me of some other vampires, newer to the Volturi that may not have a reign on their blood thirst as the older vamps, as their voices got louder I recognized them as Jane and Demetri

“You seem more cruel than usual Jane, something the matter?” Demetri asked, I stood completely still as I listened to the conversation

“Alec won’t stop going on and on about that….that rat, complete filth of a human, I mean what fates put them together, she’s just a lowly human, I could kill her in a second and her life would mean nothing”

“Jane don’t be so harsh have you even spoken to her, she’s quite the girl, she’s perfect for Alec”

“No human is good enough for Alec” she scoffed before she stormed out, the doors slamming behind her, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding

My heart felt like a ton of bricks, maybe I wasn’t enough for Alec I mean it’s been a month and we haven’t moved past just holding each other in bed, or a little pec on the check, maybe I’m over thinking everything but there still that nagging at the back of my mind that Jane might be right I mean she’s his twin she knows him best

I ditched my journey to get a new book and headed back to Alec’s and I’s room hoping to just clear my head and try and forget about this gut wrenching feeling

I threw myself down on the bed when a voice shocked me out of my fleeting moment of peace

“What seems to trouble you amore?” I shot up in the bed looking across the room to where the voice came from seeing Alec sat on the couch looking beautiful as ever

“Oh umm it’s nothing just tired” in a flash he was kneeled infront of me at the side of the bed, his hands holding mine

“Amore you know you can’t lie to me, I hear your lovely heart race everytime, now tell me”

“I just…..I don’t know, I feel sometimes that I’m not everything you need we haven’t even kissed yet and i know the others think this too”

“My love, you are everything I have waited for, you calm me down when I feel my anger rise, you thaw my cold dead heart, and for the other I haven’t kissed you yet because I wanted to take this slow for you, I’m quite into courting if you haven’t noticed, this is special so I’m enjoying my time with every little moment” he smiled running his thumb over my hand soothingly

“I….I love you Alec, and I know I can have my doubts sometimes but I really do, you’ve made me feel more loved than I ever have before” I said placing my hand on his cold cheek

“I love you to my angel, and I want you to never worry about my I devoted love for you, nothing with ever change than no matter if your human or a vampire, I’m yours till the end of time”

More alec oneshots are on their way

Story inspired by @kimi240302 Alec story go check it out!!

[sgiandubh]

2023 or last week

That's not really matters', what is interesting is that Caitríona has a very high level of privacy in her movements or travels

She has a private life that is completely away from notice and attention, no press, no ordinary people, no fan who meets her by chance

Wow.. as if she had the invisibility power since 2019.

Dear Privacy Level Anon,

We're going to do things a bit differently, this time, with an audio answer. Nice to meet you, by the way:

For those who need a transcript, here goes:

'Your charade has very simple answers:

No Press? The Press would have to actually care or be sold a juicy tip/story, about that elusive B-lister who is such a compelling Claire Fraser (huh?) from Outlander ('wait a minute, that nice, secksay series around 2016, right?'). Press interest is, however, likely to immediately jump up, the minute she lands a better PR team and/or a part in a really relevant cinema project. Let's see what those two next movies bring, Anon.

No Ordinary People? Imagine you're Jane Doe (aka, an Ordinary Person), traveling from 🛫 London to 🛬Bangkok. Upon arrival at 🏯Suvarnabhumi Airport , while waiting in line for the notoriously looooong passport control (full profile pic included), you spot C (or S, or C and S, or C and S and Boos 1, 2, 3... 554). They vaguely remind you of someone. That someone could be anyone from a) your cousin Matilda's co-worker you have been briefly introduced to, three years ago; b) someone who looks like your homeland's host of 'Who Wants To Be a Millionaire' TV show (totally random example, here); c) someone who looks like that actress you once saw in that TV series which name you can't really remember. Ultimately, the fact that you are unable to put a name on that face really irritates you. Your feet hurt, you are sleepy, grumpy and you need to go to the bathroom ASAP (🚨🚨🚨🚨). Meanwhile, S and C kiss, Boo #456 is as unhappy as you and wants his blankie. Did I mention you need to use the 🚻 (somewhere far away from 🛃) ASAP? S and C 💋💋💋💋 some more. YOU NEED TO USE THAT TOILET AND YOU'RE STUCK IN THAT STUPID LINE. Boo #433 wants their mommy's attention NOW (🥹🍼🤦‍♀️), so you sympathize a bit ('what a cute 👶, just like his/her parents') but you are really focused on your 🧻problem. By the time you dragged your 🧳to the 🚕 area, in the thick, humid heat at Arrivals, you'd have forgotten everything about it, but remember every single second of your Passport Control Ordeal.

No Fan? Outside of these Tumblr/X/Instagram jihadist pockets, no casual 🪭 would probably ask for a pic, provided they remember the name of the series (it is really poor taste to go for it and candidly tell her/them something like ' oooh, I remember you from The Last Kingdom, such a wonderful series'). Out of those who still go for it, I bet the farm:

85% keep The Nice Pic tucked in their iPhones and just randomly share at the next school bake sale/corporate teambuilding/ Rotary Club meeting with random people saying random things like 'oooh, she's nice, wait a minute, wasn't she in The Last Kingdom'?

10% foolishly post on X or Instagram, to be immediately greeted by The Fandom Vigilantes, courtesy of alerts installed on their own iPhones: 'where was it/ when was it/was she alone/yes? why?/no? why and with whom/ what did she say/ did she say anything/ why didn't she say anything'. If, by a very probable misfortune, what you have to dish out does not click with the Greeting Committee's agenda, expect to be: a) treated like a 5 year old idiot or a tortured POW ('was she alone...? was she alone...? are you sure she wasn't alone...? ARE YOU SURE SHE WASN'T ALONE? ANSWER ME, WAS SHE ALONE?'); b) Caitsplained she is married to someone else and what you saw is an optical illusion; c) perhaps even forced to adjust your own narrative (maybe that 6′ 3" Viking was Tony McGill, after all? 😵). You immediately regret posting it on your public Social Media accounts, erase the pic and go private. By the time you do it (12 hours from posting), it would have been dutifully screencapped, in a middle of a full blown Fandom Skirmish.

5% know what Tumblr actually is (at a minimum) and/or are actively involved in its Fandom Subset. The minute they post is the start of just another Nagasaki episode. The DM inbox will explode with a rich array of pleas/insults/more Caitsplaining. Comments will range from the ecstatic to the revoltingly vulgar. And remember (LOL for weeks):

The Fandom will eventually never forgive you for sharing.'

[causenessus]

happy birthday. | oikawa t.

oikawa x reader (female reader implied, one use of word girlfriend)

written in 2nd person

"i wanna see what makes my life and all the little things, i wanna see the mountains in view and the part when i meet you <3" from when i meet you by hollow bastion

word count: 2.5k words (headcannons & little fic <3)

happy birthday to the boy whose been with me for 4+ years <3 longer than anyone else <3 all sweet toothrotting fluff!! not edited bc i'm really tired goodnight :)

contrary to popular belief, tooru does not hype up his birthday

he never tells anyone it’s coming up and he doesn’t always do something big for his special day

he’s grown a *tiny* bit more mellow since high school, from when he did always make a big deal out of it

fans continue to send in heaps of mail but like the actual day itself, he doesn’t really pay any mind to it

there’s two reasons for this:

now that he has you, he doesn’t care much for others

as long as he gets to spend the day with you, even if no one else wished him a happy birthday or gave him something he’d be happy

second of all, he likes things to be genuine

with popularity has come a lot of shallowness from others, and he’s had to put up many of his own fronts

so he doesn’t want hundreds of people messaging him happy birthday, he only really cares to hear it from his close circle of friends

and it’s no problem if he doesn’t receive a message from one of those friends, he doesn’t expect people to know everything about him (a big change from high school, he’s very proud of it)

it’s just something that he realized after graduating high school. after his last year and the underwhelming end to his high school volleyball career after the spring high playoffs, he realized that life was not all about getting as far as you can on a straight path; sometimes you take turns that diverge you from the main path a little bit, but you still keep moving forward, and sometimes you end up finding something on that little path that makes it all worth it <3 (with age comes wisdom, right?? don’t tell him that, it makes him sound old 🤭)

after all, that’s how he found you <3

at the airport waiting to fly to argentina, he just couldn’t get enough of you, even after spending the entire flight at your side.

and you were just as interested in him

he realized after your first date that he was always meant to be here. he had a restless, adventurous soul that hadn’t been satisfied in japan, and it had been fate to meet you while he was taking the next big step in high life.

and don't mistake his acceptance of where he is in life for laziness, he’s just as hardworking as before if not more, but he’s realized he doesn’t need to aim for perfection

and once he became more lenient on himself, he ironically became the best version of himself he’d ever been

with your support and love easing him through this new mindset and the bad days, he began to win medal after medal <3

you’ve been with him for it all. he wholly believes you were made for him, and he loves you so much

so the only happy birthday he cares to hear is from you

and if other friends wish him a happy birthday? he will thank them. he will say that he appreciates them and he means it, but nothing is as important as you

if you insist that he can’t stay at home with you the whole day and that he should celebrate with some of his friends, he’ll eventually comply

he likes to keep things small. it feels nice to choose to have a quiet day on a date dedicated to him with a small group of people

tooru and you had started the day together in bed. a summer in brazil had seemed appealing to you both; it was the perfect time and place for him to play volleyball on the beach by the sea and you were there to relax and keep him company. he had reconciled with shoyo, who you both had planned to meet for lunch to celebrate the day.

you had decided on the place after receiving input from both of them. tooru had been complaining for days about wanting lemonade, and shoyo had suggested somewhere small, open, and simple as opposed to an overcrowded fancy restaurant. you could easily get that experience just by walking down the hot streets of brazil.

the three of you had spent the afternoon inside a conditioned cafe. it was a cozy place, with lots of greenery and wide window walls to let in lots of sunlight. you had sat there for several hours, people watching and chattering, tooru rubbing circles on your thigh the entire time as shoyo and him recounted their time and experiences in high school and how they had traveled around the world since then.

by around four in the afternoon or so, shoyo had perked up, suggesting that they play volleyball which had riled up tooru, a smirk on his face as he teased the ginger, “oh? you think you can beat me if we play one on one, shrimpy?”

shoyo had grinned back, sitting up proudly and flaunting his sun-bronzed skin. tooru had gotten a little dark, too, but not nearly to the extent that shoyo had.

“you guys have fun sweating and running around in the sun,” you sighed, placing your hand over the one tooru had on your leg, “i’m going to go home.”

when tooru whined you hushed him with a finger to his lip, “you enjoy your time with shoyo. today is about you. i'll still be here when you guys are done playing.”

he gave you a slight pout but you knew you had won him over. he was never one to fight much, especially because he knows you only want the best for him, and he'd be lying if he didn't say he was excited to play against the orange-haired boy sitting across from him.

you had waved the two boys off as you split up after exiting the cafe, stopping by a bakery before running home. little did tooru know, this had been your plan all along and everything was going smoothly so far. shoyo was in on it too and had been assigned the job of distracting tooru while you got home.

tooru woke up with messages from his family, but none of his three closest friends. you’d seen the disappointment in his eyes although he tried to hide it, saying that they’d probably just text him later due to the big time difference between japan and brazil.

but in reality, they hadn’t messaged him because they had just arrived in brazil. they'd come to help you with decorations and to celebrate tooru, of course. you met the three at your door, each of them holding a bag or box with decorations and gifts inside.

“thank you guys for agreeing to do this with me, he’s gonna love it,” you smiled, opening the door and holding it open for the four of them to walk in.

“of course he will, he's gonna let out the most dramatic gasp ever when he sees something set up for him,” hanamaki said with an amused smile, slipping off his shoes.

“he’s gonna love anything, he’s never satisfied,” iwaizumi added with a roll of his eyes. “and he’ll probably complain that none of us texted him.”

“times never change,” mattsun whistled, stepping through the door last. “remember when we surprised him in the gym with the entire team? he wasn’t even happy until makki finally arrvied with the cake like an hour later.” 

“you gave me the wrong address, that was not my fault! and he wasn’t happy until i got there because he was waiting for me, not the cake,” makki retorted and the rest of them had laughed.

you had met his old teammates from high school a few times before on visits back to japan, and tooru continued to keep in touch with them while he was overseas. most often, on late nights that neither of you could sleep, he would ramble to you about the national volleyball team iwaizumi had been putting together.

you had also exchanged phone numbers with the three boys after hitting it off with them, which had come in handy for planning this birthday. you all worked quickly to hang up decorations around the foyer and kitchen while the cake you'd bought earlier stayed neat and pretty in the chilled fridge.

all the while, shoyo kept you updated on tooru through texts. they were on the way back to the apartment now after shoyo had insisted on walking with him back home.

“he’s almost here,” you informed, unable to contain the excited smile on your face as you slipped your phone back into your pocket. “everyone ready? iwaizumi, will you get the lights, please?”

you all waited in the dark until you heard their footsteps approaching, the muffled sound of their voices through the wall of the apartment. you lit the candles on the birthday cake, the warm, flickering flames providing the tiniest bit of light in the dark room, illuminating the neatly iced cursive that read out "happy birthday tooru ♡ " 

you heard his noise of surprise as the door swung open into the pitch black apartment before you stood up from your hiding spot behind the counter, “happy birthday, my love.”

 “y/n? is this why you left early?” he asked, a smile full of love and adoration on his face, looking at the dimly lit cake on the table.

you hummed in response, wrapping your arms around his neck, giving him a kiss before you looked at shoyo and gave him a nod.

the lights came on overhead, making tooru squint at the sudden brightness before he nearly fell forward from a slap to his back.

“happy birthday, man,” mattsun grinned, stepping into his sight before he saw iwaizumi and hanamaki as well.

“you guys?—” he started, frozen in place in surprise at seeing the three boys in his apartment. “you guys came all the way here for me?”

“no," hanamaki replied sarcastically with a shrug before giving tooru a hug, "we just happened to be in the area, you know. i’m thinking of moving to brazil and decided to stop by.

tooru lets out an offended huff at the joke, crossing his arms as hanamaki steps back. “i can’t believe you guys are really here. and even more i can’t believe none of you guys texted me! i thought you all had forgotten, you could have at least sent a message so i wasn’t moping around all day.”

you and iwaizumi both roll your eyes at his dramatic complaint as matsukawa laughs, “aw, did you miss us?”

“and where’s the fun in that, dumbass? we thought a happy birthday in person would mean more to you, anyway,” iwaizumi speaks up, revealing the gift bag he’s been hiding from behind his back.

tooru gasps, practically melting at the sight as he steps closer to his best friend, “well, i guess you guys were right. this means the world to me, thank you so much for coming.” he takes the bag from iwaizumi before pulling him into a tight hug that lasts a few seconds, and says more between the two than hours of talking could. they haven’t seen each other in months, but they’re still just as close as they’ve always been.

“and,” tooru says, turning towards you with a smile, “thank you for setting this all up, y/n.”

the party lasts a few hours, with mellow music playing in the background as the six of you catch up over a few drinks before everyone decides it’s a good time to head out back to their homes, leaving the two of you to collapse into bed. 

tooru is hugging you close, face nestled into the top of your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair and draw circles onto his back.

“did you have a good birthday?” you ask him, eyes closed as you both find rest in each other’s arms.

his shoulders relax with a deep sigh as he gives you a small nod, his face rubbing against your shirt.

“anything i can do to make it even better next year?” you talk softly, twirling his brown curls around your finger.

he hums in thought for a second before he peeks up from your chest, innocent brown eyes staring into yours. “more time with you next time,” he answers, mouth still muffled from your shirt. 

“what?” you chuckle, rubbing the back of his head, “i was with you nearly the entire day, and we live together. you see me every day.”

“ ‘s not the same,” he whines, nuzzling his face into your body again, “and today didn't count, 'cause i didn’t get any alone time with you.”

you can’t help but smile at his sweet words, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head, “but today is your day, tooru. i want you to see as many friends as you can. because we all care about you, and sometimes you need to be reminded of that, mr. i-don’t-tell-anyone-when-my-birthday-is.”

his grip tightens on the back of your shirt, “yeah, but i don’t need any of that if i have you. you make me feel loved and cared for. your happy birthday is the only one i care about hearing.”

“is that so?’ you reply, returning to raking through his hair.

he gives you another nod before looking up, one of his hands trailing up your back and tangling into the back of your hair, pressing your head down to meet his lips. “mhm,” he hums against your mouth, “all i need is you.”

his lips trail down your jaw and then to your neck, making you laugh as he moves down your sternum before he returns to his original position, holding you close, his face buried into you. “well then, i’ll keep that in mind next year. i’ll make sure everyone texts you happy birthday whether or not they fly across the world and i promise we'll get some alone time, okay?”

he hums in acknowledgment of your words, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “what’re you thinking about?” you ask softly.

“nothing,” he mumbles, “i just feel really happy right now. i have the best girlfriend in the world that cares so much about me and plans out all my birthdays to make me feel loved. and we’re lying in bed right now and i’m just listening to her talk and i feel so comfortable. like next year we could just lie here all day and i’d be the happiest man ever.”

you laugh at his words and he likes the way he can feel it reverberate through your chest because of how close he is. “you’re sweet, tooru. i’ll keep talking until you fall asleep then, okay?”

“mmkay,” he responds happily, moving his legs around under the sheets to hook around yours, intertwining your bodies.

you press another kiss to his head, smiling the entire time, your heart full of love for the man, “and if it really means that much to you to hear it from me, i’ll say it again, too. happy birthday, tooru. and i love you so so much. you’re the best man i could ever have fallen in love with.”