#i’ll try to take it a little easier next week but i do still have deadlines and cant afford to do nothing
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isak-dot-gov · 2 days ago
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Breaking Point
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Pairing: (Platonic) Uconn wbb team x Manager!Reader
Word count: 1508
My Masterlist :)
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The sun had set hours ago, casting the campus in soft hues of blue and purple as the last traces of daylight slipped away. Inside the UConn basketball facility, the lights were still on, illuminating the court and the offices where the team’s dedicated manager, you, sat hunched over a desk cluttered with schedules, practice plans, and game itineraries. Your fingers flew across your laptop, finalising details for the next week’s practices, making sure every tiny element was in place.
You had been doing this for hours—days, really. Balancing all the responsibilities of being the team’s manager was a full-time job in itself, but you never complained. You loved the team, loved the feeling of being part of something bigger than yourself. Every game plan, every practice schedule was a chance for you to make their lives easier, more organised, to ensure they could focus on playing and winning.
But tonight felt different. Tonight, the weight of everything seemed to press down on your chest a little harder than usual. Your eyes were heavy, your brain foggy from lack of sleep. You couldn’t remember the last time you had taken a real break, the last time you had eaten something that wasn’t a quick snack between tasks.
As you rubbed your temples, trying to push through the mounting exhaustion, you heard footsteps approaching. The team had just finished a late-night practice, and a few of the players—Azzi, Paige, and Aaliyah—walked over, towels draped around their necks, sweat still clinging to their skin.
“Still working?” Paige asked, her tone light but concerned as she glanced at the stack of papers on your desk. “You’ve been at it for hours.”
You forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, just trying to make sure everything’s ready for next week. There’s a lot to get done.”
Azzi frowned, her sharp eyes narrowing in on the dark circles under your eyes. “You need to take a break. You’ve been running yourself into the ground lately.”
“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, brushing off their concern. “Really. I just have a few more things to finish, and then I’ll be done.”
Aaliyah stepped closer, her brow furrowed with worry. “You’ve been saying that for days. When was the last time you actually did something for yourself? Ate a real meal? Slept more than a few hours?”
Her words stung a little, not because they were harsh, but because they were true. But there was no time to think about yourself right now. The team needed you. They relied on you to keep everything running smoothly, and you couldn’t let them down.
“I’ll take a break once I’m done,” you muttered, turning back to your laptop, trying to dismiss the conversation.
But Paige wasn’t having it. “Come on, seriously. We appreciate everything you do for us, but you can’t keep going like this. It’s not healthy.”
You felt your pulse quicken at her words, a strange mix of guilt and frustration building up inside you. You knew they were trying to help, but the thought of stepping away, of not getting everything right, sent a wave of anxiety through you.
“I can’t stop right now,” you said, your voice a little sharper than you intended. “I’m almost done, I just need—”
“You need a break,” Azzi cut in firmly, crossing her arms. “You’re not helping anyone if you burn yourself out.”
You shook your head, not trusting yourself to argue anymore without snapping. “I’ll be fine. I just need to finish this.”
The team exchanged worried glances, but reluctantly stepped back, giving you space. They could see you were overwhelmed, but they also knew you were stubborn when it came to taking care of the team. They’d have to try again later.
Once they left, you exhaled, trying to refocus. Your hands trembled slightly as you typed, exhaustion making it harder to concentrate. But you pressed on, determined to get everything perfect. The team depended on you for this, and there was no room for mistakes.
But then, in your haze of exhaustion and stress, something slipped.
You didn’t notice it at first. You finished typing up the practice schedule, sent it off, and leaned back in your chair, rubbing your tired eyes. But as you scrolled back through the document to double-check the details, your heart dropped.
The times were wrong.
The schedule you had just sent out—the one for the entire next week of practice—was completely off. The gym had been booked for the wrong hours, and now it would overlap with another team’s time slot. There was no way to fix it without completely reworking the entire plan, calling the facility to reschedule, contacting the other team…
Panic began to rise in your chest, a suffocating wave of anxiety crashing over you. Your breath hitched, your vision blurring as the weight of everything you’d been holding together started to unravel. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, pounding in your ears. This mistake—it wasn’t something small. It was huge, and it would mess up the team’s entire week of preparation.
You couldn’t let them down like this. Not after everything you’d worked so hard for. Not when they were counting on you.
But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. You tried to type, tried to fix the mistake, but your fingers fumbled over the keys, and the screen swam in front of you. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you gasped for air, your chest tightening as the panic took hold.
You were spiralling.
Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the haze. “Hey, what’s going on?”
It was Paige. She must have come back to check on you. Before you could even respond, she was at your side, her eyes widening in alarm as she saw the state you were in.
“Guys! Come here, quick!” Paige called out, and within seconds, Azzi, Aaliyah, and Nika rushed over, their faces filled with concern.
You were shaking, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to explain what had happened, but the words wouldn’t come out. Your chest felt like it was caving in, and you couldn’t think straight. The room felt too small, too overwhelming.
“I messed up… I messed up everything…” you choked out, tears spilling down your cheeks. “The schedule… it’s all wrong. I’ve ruined everything for the team…”
Paige crouched down beside you, her voice calm but firm. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out, alright? Just breathe.”
Azzi knelt on your other side, her hand gently resting on your back. “You’re not alone in this. We’re here. We’ll fix it together.”
You shook your head, the panic still gripping you tightly. “But I—”
“Shhh,” Aaliyah interrupted softly, crouching in front of you, her voice gentle. “You’ve done so much for us. You don’t have to carry all of this on your own. We’ve got your back, just like you always have ours.”
Nika handed you a water bottle and knelt beside you, her voice soothing. “Take a deep breath, alright? In and out. You’re not going to fix anything by pushing yourself this hard.”
As their words slowly broke through the panic, you focused on their presence—on the warmth of their hands, the softness in their voices. Gradually, your breathing slowed, the tightness in your chest easing as you tried to ground yourself.
Paige gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve been going non-stop for too long. We can handle a mistake. You’re allowed to be human.”
You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “I just… I didn’t want to let you down.”
Azzi smiled softly, brushing a tear from your cheek. “You could never let us down. You’re the heart of this team, and we need you to take care of yourself just as much as you take care of us.”
Aaliyah nodded in agreement. “Exactly. You’ve been doing more than enough. Let us help you.”
The weight that had been pressing down on your chest finally started to lift as you realised they were right. You didn’t have to be perfect all the time. The team loved you for who you were, not just for what you did for them.
With their support, you slowly stood up, still shaky but feeling a little steadier. Nika handed you a towel to wipe your face, and Paige slung an arm around your shoulders.
“Now, we’re gonna get you out of here,” Paige said firmly. “You’re taking the night off. No arguments.”
Azzi nodded, a playful smile on her lips. “Yeah, we’ll fix the schedule in the morning. Right now, you’re going to rest.”
And for the first time in a long while, you didn’t argue. You let them take care of you, just like you had always taken care of them. You weren’t in this alone, and that realisation brought a sense of relief you hadn’t known you needed.
As they led you out of the gym, you knew you would be okay. You had your team—your family—by your side. And together, you could face anything.
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piesa2 · 8 months ago
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last week was such a fucking ride i need to remember that crashing today is ok and good
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reidrum · 5 months ago
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close to home | s.r
pairing: spencer reid x reader
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a/n: this has been rotting in my brain for days now i hope you enjoy the angsty comfort this brought me <3 my requests are open (guidelines in pinned!) or if you wanna just chat hop in my ask box :) gonna hopefully work on a smut fic in the next week so keep an eye out hehe
cw: angst, hurt/comfort, protective!spencer, afab!reader who uses she/her pronouns, non bau!reader, cm type violence, reader sustains injuries from unsub, vague description of injuries, maeve mentions, derek being a good friend, spencer being so in love with reader, this takes place probably a year after maeve, inconsistencies with tls and characters but who cares
wc: 2.4k
summary: the bau is working a local case when their unsub strikes again mid investigation, hotch tells reid and morgan to go check it out but spencer finds the address of the crime to be a little too familar
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whenever the bau has a case based in the dc area, it’s always a little easier on the team. familiar stomping grounds, ease of resources, no major time difference, and everyone can sleep in their own beds. the hard part about home cases is knowing there’s a serial killer in the place they know deeply, with people they cared about deeply.
spencer and callahan are in the middle of the bullpen staring at the giant white board with all the evidence they have so far. the unsub has been killing women in their mid 20s in the local dc area, with the mo currently unknown. there had already been two victims, both killed in their homes. spencer was currently trying to analyze all the information the case had alongside with what garcia was able to provide, and he was still hitting a dead end. morgan had joined them at some point too, trying to offer what he could remember from the crime scenes but to no avail. he felt his eyes straining and dropping so he decided to get more coffee, but was stopped by hotch and garcia entering the bullpen.
“police just got a 911 call about a break in, but there’s a witness this time. she was home when it happened and it looks like he didn’t expect that and tried to knock her out before escaping. i think it sounds like our unsub. morgan and reid i need you to go check out the scene and interview the witness, see what she remembers.” hotch explained.
morgan and reid nodded as garcia spoke up, “i just sent the address to your phones, it’s a house on hillcrest so it's not that far from here.”
spencer froze. he had to have heard wrong, she did not say hillcrest, “did you say hillcrest?”
“yeah hillcrest drive. it’s like, a 15 minute drive it’s not that bad.”
he felt his heart drop to his feet, a sinking feeling building in his gut. that was the street you lived on. he tried to ground himself with logic, the probability of it being your house is only 10%, but he was dreading asking the fated question.
“garcia, what’s the house number?”
“reid, i already sent it to your pho-“
“garcia, what is the house number,” he spoke again. 
please don’t say 1159 please don’t say 1159 please don’t say-
“1159.”
fuck. the color drained from his face, and the nausea was building to a head quickly. spencer hurriedly tried to think through the last time he spoke to you, last night? this morning? he doesn’t check on you as much as he does when he’s not on a case, but oh my god why can’t he remember the last time he saw you.
“reid,” hotch bellows, finally breaking spencer out of his trance, “what is it? what do you know?”
he shook his head,  “nothing. morgan, let’s go.” he grabbed his jacket and booked it out the door.
morgan, garcia, and hotch all looked at each other in concern, before morgan spoke up, “i’ll see what’s up.” the latter two nodded softly, though the worry didn’t let up in their eyes.
morgan walked up to the car to find spencer repeatedly trying to call someone on the phone, clearly unable to get through and getting really frustrated.
spencer was alerted by morgan’s presence hearing the car unlock but he didn’t even look at him, just immediately got in the car and strapped his seat belt. morgan joined him in the drivers seat giving him a wary look before turning the car on and pulling out of the bureau.
“okay reid, spill it. it’s obvious you know who lives here.” morgan speaks up.
“just drive, please.”
“because if you know something, something that could help the case, it would be helpful if we knew.”
“morgan, just drive.” he borderline yells.
he raises his eyebrows at his raised voice, “listen kid, i’m just trying to help you. i can see you’re upset but we’re on the same side, you know that.”
spencer takes a shaky breath, feeling another shade of guilt at yelling at one of his friends, for something he didn’t even know about. he’d kept you a secret for many reasons— your relationship with him was still new, and he just wanted to keep you to himself for a bit. after what happened with maeve, he felt especially more responsible at keeping you safe and making sure you didn’t get tangled up in his line of work.
some job he did of that.
the one thing he regrets about how he handled the maeve situation, was not asking for help until it was almost too late. for not doing anything about her stalker when he was part of one of the most famous fbi teams built to find people like that. he’d always live with that guilt, but he vowed not to do that with you.
he loved you so much. you were so kind, and smart, and beautiful. a breath of fresh air after feeling lost in a dark tunnel for so long. you were so understanding when he explained what he did for a living, and what had happened to him and people he cared about as a result. he still remembers what you said to him when he told you that you could have an out, if you wanted.
“any risk is worth taking if getting to be with you is the consolation prize.”
tears welled up in eyes thinking about the memory. if you were willing to take any risk, then he should be able to as well.
he cleared his throat, and morgan’s ears perked up, “my uh, my girlfriend lives there. where the unsub, at- attacked.” he voiced softly.
morgan looked at him for a beat while driving, spencer missing the way his face dropped. he tightened his hands on the wheels, and didn’t hesitate to turn the lights and siren on and shift gears to speed up.
__
the car pulled onto your street and the first thing spencer sees is the flashing light of the ambulances. morgan doesn’t even put the car in park before spencer’s bolting out hoping he can find you quickly.
he’s asking all the paramedics he’s passing if they’ve seen you or know if you’re being treated, were you transferred to a hospital and he didn’t know, the tunnel vision slowly overtaking him until he hears a voice breaking through like sunlight call out his name.
he whips his head in the direction he heard it come from, and he’s never been more grateful to be met with the beautiful sight of you. you watch his eyes widen and let out a sigh before running over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance. he’s definitely not thinking when he goes in to hug you, not even knowing the extent of your injuries. he’s overtaken by the desperate need to hold you in his arms so he knows you’re safe and okay.
“hi,” you choke out muffled, “funny seeing you here.”
he pulls back to inspect your face, taking note of a small cut above your left eyebrow and the beginning splotches of a bruise forming on your lower jaw. his heart aches so much looking at you, knowing what happened to you and who did this to you.
“hi, honey,” he lets out tearfully, “are you okay? i mean, of course you’re not. but what did the paramedics say? did they give you anything? are you sure they checked all your injuries? you know what, let me go call the guy over. i’ll be literally two seconds.” his panicked ramble fading off as he rounds the truck you’re sat in to find the emt.
upon his extensive questioning of the man who treated you, he found out that you had sustained a minor concussion from when the unsub swung at you with an umbrella, superficial cuts caused by a broken vase you threw to defend yourself, and a dislocated shoulder from getting shoved into the wall.
you were okay, but at what cost.
the emt leaves you two and spencer sits himself next to you on the rig. he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you as tight as he can and the other hand cradles your head into the crook of his neck, holding you so tight he’s hoping he can squeeze the bad memories out of you. it’s at this moment of feeling safe and sound in his arms when the adrenaline of your attack wears off.
spencer hears a small whimper and feels a few hot tears trickle down his neck, your breathing gets faster as you’re attempting to beat your body’s fear response. the slow build up of sobs starting to rack your chest, and he immediately holds you tighter.
“it’s over, baby, they won’t hurt you anymore. i promise.”
you sniffle, “i know, i just can’t believe this happened. to me, to us. it’s not fair to you.” trailing off the last two words.
“to me? wh- what do you mean?”
you take a deep breath, “i don’t mean to bring it up again, i just know how eerily similar this is to a past experience you’ve had. and i hoped that i wouldn’t be in a position to make you feel that way again. i don’t know why this happened, i'm sorry.”
he looked down at you incredulously. genuinely unable to believe that you were sitting next to him on an ambulance, beaten up with bruises and scars after a home invasion attack, worried about how he would feel when he got to you. it was enough to finally let the swell of tears saved up in his eyes fall.
“oh sweetheart,” he chokes out, realizing you’ve been trying to be brave for him this whole time, “what happened is not your fault, do you understand me? my job is to always worry about you and your safety. when garcia said the address i…i couldn’t even process it, i don’t even know how i got to the car,” he shook his head, “but i am the last person you need to push your emotions down for. i will always take them in stride and love you even more for that, okay?”
“okay,” you take a shaky breath, “i love you.”
“i love you.” he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.
both of your heads look up at an approaching figure, who you quickly recognize to be ssa derek morgan. you knew spencer hadn’t told the team about you yet, so you tried to sit up independently as fast as you could before he came over and suspected something.
spencer’s grip didn’t let up when he bent down and whispered, “it’s okay, he knows.” you look up at him with wide eyes when derek finally reaches you.
“reid, i already talked to the detectives and we’re good to go when you’re ready,” he turns his body to you and gives you a comforting smile, “hi sweetheart, i’m derek morgan, it’s nice to meet you.”
spencer rolls his eyes at the nickname while you giggle softly, “hi derek, i’ve heard so much about you. it's nice to finally meet you too.”
“i wish it were under better circumstances,” he sighs, “listen, i know it’s all still really fresh for you, but it might help the case if you’re able to come in for a cognitive interview, or even talk to a sketch artist.”
spencer doesn’t miss a beat before protesting, “absolutely not. we can do it later, it’s fine.”
“reid-“
you look up at him placing your hand on his chest, “spence, it’s okay. i want to help, please.”
he rests his hand on top yours and gives it a light squeeze, “okay, but i’m not leaving you alone for a second.”
“i didn’t think you would.” you smile.
“alright lovebirds, you can have your private time later, we should go now.” derek teases.
spencer groans, “see this is why i didn’t say anything.”
“you think i’m bad? wait till penelope meets her.”
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the three of you pile into the car before starting the drive to spencer’s apartment so he could get you a change of clothes and other things you might need. you end up falling asleep in the back seat, the final stage of your shock sinking in like a rock. spencer checks on you from the rear view mirror and sees you passed out, and smiles.
“she’s cute,” derek starts, “can i ask how long?”
“nine months.” he replies, fishing for something out of his pocket.
“pretty boy hid a girl from all of us for nine months? maybe we’re not as good profilers as we thought.”
“imagine that,” he laughs, and gestures to the item in his hand, “look.”
spencer’s holding out a well loved photo booth strip with three pictures, of you and spencer from the time you went to a local county fair. you’re sitting in his lap, mostly due to the cramped space and the expansive limbs. the first picture is the two of you holding up finger guns attempting to be as back to back as you can. the second picture, you intended it to be a normal one where you both smile at the camera, but spencer couldn’t take his eyes off you and the picture captured the love struck gaze he had on you. the last one you were about to tell him the idea for it, when he grabbed your face and pulled you closer to kiss you, neither of you knowing when the final picture snapped.
the edges were worn out and frayed, clearly broken down by the oils on his fingers from pulling it out frequently. it was his most treasured item, a constant reminder of what was always waiting for him when he got back from grueling cases, and how lucky he was to have you in his life.
“you look really happy, kid.” derek says, thinking about the many times he’s seen his friend at rock bottom, the things that have been so brutally taken from him, and the suffering he’s had at the hands of his job. his heart warms for his friend, who seemed to finally catch a break.
“i am.”
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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago
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He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.
“Uh.”
“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”
Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.
Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”
Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.
“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”
“Nope!”
“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”
Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.
“Deal.”
“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.
“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.
“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”
“What, you don’t have to do that.”
“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”
“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.
“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”
“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.
When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.
——
“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.
“Cass! What’s up?”
“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.
What…?
Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.
“Huh.”
“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.
“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”
“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.
“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.
“Woah!”
Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.
“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.
“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.
She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”
“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”
“Master Danny!”
Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”
Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.
But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?
Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.
Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.
——
“Cass? Why’d you call us?”
“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”
Cass paces.
“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.
“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”
“What.”
“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.
“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”
Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”
“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.
In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.
——
“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”
“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.
“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”
“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.
Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.
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seungkw1 · 9 days ago
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ring my bell  — ljh
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♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni] ♡ wc: 7k ♡ warnings: sub!reader, but also subby!jihoon, size kink, praise kink, auralism/ecouteurism, masturbation (m. & f.), oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), cum swallowing, creampie, cockwarming, dacryphilia, size kink, hair pulling, gagging, missionary, 69, nipple play/boob worship, multiple orgasms, sex toys, mild alcohol consumption, did i mention size kink, lil fluff at the end ♡ a/n: i abandoned this fic at least five times lmao but then one night at like 2am the brain rot took over and here we are! tysm to @wonwovy for beta reading, @shinysobi for the title suggestion, and @miniseokminnies for help w the photos <3
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When you moved into your new condo, you were pretty sure you hit the jackpot. At first, you were a bit suspicious - how could the rent be so low in this part of town, with such a nice building? But for two months after you moved in, you’ve had no problems. Sure, the shower head is a bit leaky sometimes, and you could use a bit more storage space, but overall - no complaints. As an added bonus the unit next to you was vacant - aka, peace and quiet. Perfection. 
That vacancy didn't last forever, though. Two months in, and you found yourself with a new neighbor. You haven't had a chance to properly introduce yourself to him yet, but from the brief glimpses of him you've gotten he seems nice. You suspect he's around your age, a bit quiet, definitely keeps to himself but has been very polite in passing. And while he's not exactly your type, you do admit he is pretty cute. So, nothing wrong with him. 
You did, however, quickly discover two major problems. One, it turns out the walls are paper fucking thin. And two - to make matters worse - his bedroom is apparently right on the other side of yours, sharing a wall. And you can hear everything. 
By the sounds of it, the guy is single. You never hear any other voices, just his - soft moans emanating through the sad excuse for a wall, gradually getting louder, culminating in a symphony of unholy noises. You've never heard a man be so… vocal before. 
At first, you just try to ignore it. Obviously, he's doing nothing wrong - this is simply a consequence of shared living spaces. So you do your best to mind your business. 
Easier said than done. 
A week passes. You still haven't had a chance to actually say hi to your new neighbor, but you already feel like you've become intimately acquainted with him. It feels a bit… wrong. This is very clearly a one-sided situation. You don't even know the guy’s name for fuck’s sake. Yet, each time, a sharp aching sensation forms a pit in your stomach. You find yourself fantasizing about him -  wishing you could be on the other side of the wall, wishing you were the one responsible for the sounds being produced. 
You've gone and fallen for a complete stranger - or at least, the idea of him. Fucking great. 
You just need to actually meet him, you tell yourself. He could be a complete asshole. Or maybe just not your type at all. Once you say hi, you'll get over this silly little fantasy in no time. 
I’ll make sure to run into him tomorrow, you determine. You go to bed, content with your plan. 
Not five minutes after you crawl under the covers, you start to hear faint groans. 
You reach for your airpods, but they're not on your nightstand. You must have left them in the other room. 
It’s fine, you decide. It’ll be over soon enough. 
But tonight, apparently, he is taking his sweet time. 
You stuff your head under the pillows, trying to drown out the sensual sounds, but the moaning persists. Even muffled it’s loud - and it only gets worse as the minutes pass. 
Just when you think he’s about to finish, the sounds cease. Thank god, you think as you roll over, ready to finally get some sleep. 
But a minute later he starts up again. Slowly at first, once again taking his time, increasing his speed at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually his breaths grow shorter, his groaning louder. Then, he stops. 
As if he set out to torment you tonight, he begins once more.  
You lay there, eyes closed, unmoving, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the aching between your legs. But it's impossible. 
The third time around, he's clearly very on edge. His moans turn loud, whiny, pathetic. It's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard. 
Don’t do it don't do it don't do it…
As if your arm has gained a mind of its own, your hand slides beneath the fabric of your underwear. You gasp as your fingers slip between your folds - you're fucking wet. 
Your already-throbbing bud pulsates between your fingers. Slowly, you begin to rub your clit. The sensation is immediately overwhelming; the uninhibited cries of pleasure emanating from the other side of the wall are enough to send you over the edge. Just when you think you can't take another moment of this, he cums. And so do you. 
Your free hand clasps over your mouth just in time. You try as hard as you possibly can to stay silent - but you want to scream. You writhe against the sheets to the sound of his release, riding out your orgasm on your fingertips. Muffled cries escape despite your efforts - but are lost amidst the man’s sea of moans. You cum long and hard, savoring every last moment of your high. 
As you start to come down, you sink into your mattress, body spent, mind drifting off. Your neighbor seems to have exhausted himself too - the only sounds carrying through the wall now being that of deep breaths. 
So much for running into him tomorrow. 
You flop over onto your side, shoving the thought away - but you know even if you try, you can't avoid him forever. 
You just pray to god he didn't hear you. 
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Of course, after a week without any encounters, you manage to run into him the very next day. 
Upon returning from the grocery store, you head to your building’s elevator. The doors are closing as you approach, so you figure you'll just take the next one - but the occupant holds the door for you. 
“Thank you,” you say cheerfully, but as you step inside your stomach drops. You are face to face with your new neighbor.
“You’re welcome,” he replies, making direct eye contact with you. You want to disappear into the walls, but you maintain your composure. The button for your floor is already lit up, so he presses the close door button. 
“I believe I just moved into the unit next to yours,” he says as you set your heavy bags on the floor. “I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jihoon.”
He extends his hand out to you. You instantly regret setting your bags down. 
You smile calmly, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are. But as you slide your hand into his, your heart rate rises. It doesn't help that he has really nice hands - large, warm, with fingers long and graceful, and a nice strong grip against your own hand. Your mind flashes back to the events of last night, picturing what those hands were doing…
Stop it. 
“I’m y/n,” you reply with a smile, trying to be as normal as possible. “Nice to meet you.”
You withdraw your hand from his grasp as he lets go - nonchalantly, but with haste. Any longer and your palms would have probably started sweating. 
“So, how are you liking it here so far?” you ask casually. 
“So far so good,” he replies. “I'm honestly surprised that I was able to find anything in this part of town for such a good deal. Nice and quiet here too.”
Quiet. 
You fear your suspicions are correct: he has no idea he's been putting on a nightly show for you. 
The elevator gives a soft ding as it comes to a stop. You reach down to grab your bags as the door opens. 
“Can I help you with that?” 
“Oh, uh… sure.”
He picks up the heavy bags with ease. You could tell that he’s a muscular guy, but up close he looks straight up beefy. It doesn't help that the tight shirt he's wearing hugs all his muscles perfectly, his biceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves. You force yourself to look away before you start fucking drooling. 
He delivers the bags to your front door. He returns them to you with care, making sure you have a firm grip on the handles before letting go. His hand lingers upon yours momentarily - the lightest brush of his fingertips against yours enough for your insides to do a somersault. 
“Thanks again,” you tell him, making the mistake of direct eye contact again. 
“Of course,” Jihoon replies warmly. “See you around.”
You flash him a smile, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Bye!!” you blurt abruptly as you unlock your front door, hurrying inside. You want to turn around, get one more good look at him - but you shut the door behind you. 
Your head spins as you put your groceries away. You're so wrapped up in your imagination that you nearly put the milk in the cabinet. But you can't stop daydreaming about what those muscles look like underneath his shirt. 
You finish up and head into your bedroom. A nice hot shower should clear your mind. Not two seconds after taking off your shirt, you freeze. The familiar sounds from next door have begun yet again. 
You stand there, half horrified, half horny. Surely it's nothing more than coincidence that your neighbor got home and started jacking off minutes after having a conversation with you. He was probably gonna do that anyway, you try to convince yourself. You're just having main character syndrome right now, this has nothing to do with you. 
But your gut is telling you otherwise. 
Mindlessly your fingers drift to your bra clasp, removing the garment. Taking your breast in one hand you stroke your thumb over your nipple, already hard from sudden exposure to the cool air of your room. You let yourself stand there for a minute, listening to Jihoon’s soft moans, imagining you could see him through the wall, slowly stroking his cock in his hands. 
You feel guilty, ashamed, but the aching in your cunt overpowers any sense of remorse. Your hand makes its way into your pants, your fingers gliding through your folds, slipping easily into your soaked pussy. You wince silently, stifling the moans desperately trying to escape you. Slowly, you begin to fuck yourself. You can't help but think about how it would feel if it were Jihoon’s fingers inside you instead. 
You stand there for a couple minutes, your clit throbbing against the motion of your palm - threatening to make you scream and cum. 
You can't let him hear you, you keep telling yourself. But part of you almost wants him to hear you. You picture him getting so turned on hearing your cries of pleasure that he cums instantly, all over himself, making a huge mess that you would love nothing more than to help clean up. 
You feel your climax rapidly approaching. You cease moving your fingers, but let them remain resting inside you. You try to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to slow your pounding heart, but just as your head starts to clear you hear a sudden swell of orgasmic sounds from through the wall. As if by reflex your hand moves again. Your body tremors at the pressure against your overstimulated clit - you cum in silence, forcing your cries back inside you as . You ride out your high, and so does Jihoon, his moans slowly softening as he comes back down. 
Heart pounding, you slowly remove your fingers from your cunt. Your hand is soaked; you find yourself wishing it was Jihoon's face instead, glistening with your juices after eating you out, making you cum an unreasonable amount of times. 
You sigh. You know this should all feel wrong. But why does it feel so good then?
A strange combination of feelings overtake your body: tingling bliss from your orgasm, guilt from the reason for your orgasm, an overpowering yearning for the touch of essentially an entire stranger. 
You strip the remainder of your clothes off and proceed to take a very long, very hot shower. 
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You wake up the next morning stupidly horny.
It didn’t help that you had a dream about Jihoon. In it, you were standing in his bedroom, watching him masturbate to the sight of you. His cries echoing through your subconscious, the pathetic look on this face as he came all over himself - it’s not surprising you woke up to a puddle between your legs.
You pause, listening to see if you can hear your neighbor next door, but you hear nothing. You reach into your nightstand, pulling out your favorite vibrator. The purple device rumbles in your hand as you turn it on. For a vibrator, it’s pretty quiet, but with your stupid thin walls you know it would be perfectly audible from the other side. You think Jihoon isn’t around - surely you would hear him if he were - but even if he is, you truly don’t even care anymore. You position the toy lightly upon your clit - even through the fabric of your underwear, its powerful vibrations instantly feel amazing. A soft groan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips begin to move lightly at the stimulation - the pressure of the vibrator’s end causing your wetness to stick to your panties. You attempt to restrain your moaning, but before long you cease resisting. It feels too good. Your orgasm quickly builds in your gut, making you whimper as you squirm against your pillow, its intensity growing and growing until - you cum. The fire of your release burns through your body, your cries filling the air without abandon. Deep breaths fill your lungs as you come down, soft gasps emanating from your lips as you turn the toy off and toss it aside. 
A series of thunks echo from through the wall, followed by a hushed “shit”.
It sounds like somebody dropping a phone or something, but whatever it is - turns out your neighbor was home after all. Whoops.
In your post-orgasm bliss you begin to drift back to sleep. You don’t know what you’re going to do now next time you run into Jihoon, but that’s a problem for later.
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You end up sleeping in far too late. By the time you wake up, you feel groggy and sluggish, so you figure going to the gym will help you feel a little better. You don a soft pink pair of leggings and a light gray sports bra, filling your water bottle and grabbing your airpods on your way out the door. You wait in the hallway for the elevator. It reaches your floor with a ding, its doors sliding open to reveal who other than your next door neighbor. 
Of fucking course.
He appears to be returning from the gym, his tight white t-shirt clinging to his body in a way that practically puts all his muscles on display. His dark hair is damp and sweaty, messy, stray strands of it sticking to his forehead. He looks up to see you standing there, a panicked look instantly filling his eyes. His skin is already flush from exercising, but his ears turn practically crimson at the sight of you. 
“Hi,” you say with a friendly smile.
He freezes, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly tries to shake it off.
“Oh, uh, hey,” he mumbles in an attempted nonchalant tone, but already his cheeks are becoming more flustered. You see his eyes flicker up and down your body - your outfit isn’t terribly revealing, but it’s certainly on the sexier side of athleticwear. He stands there, awkwardly frozen - so long that the elevator door begins to shut again. He grabs hold of it, triggering the motion sensor so it reopens. He starts to shuffle past you, but you decide you’re feeling bold enough to try and engage him in a conversation.
“Just coming back from the gym?” you ask casually.
He stops in the hallway, standing right before you.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Do you also go to the one over on Clark Street?” you question. You won’t hold him up too long - he looks like he wants to perish - but you figure you’ll torment him for another minute or so.  “That’s where I’m headed now.”
“Yeah, I do,” he answers, subtly shifting his gym bag in front of his body. 
“Cool! Maybe we’ll see each other there sometime,” you tell him in a chipper tone. 
“Maybe, yeah. That’d be cool,” he replies, smiling nervously.
You enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.
“Well, see ya around!” you tell him with a wave.
“You too,” he responds, not taking his eyes off you until the elevator door shuts closed.
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Three days pass - three days of pure silence from the other side of the wall. 
Now that Jihoon has discovered the truth, he's clearly mortified. You catch a few glimpses of him around the building, but the man practically vanishes at the sight of you. You feel a little bit bad, but you know the ruse could not have lasted forever anyway. 
Unless he somehow knows exactly when you're not home and has been jacking off exclusively then, you haven't heard him pull his dick out at all. And judging by the couple times you've seen him, the man has been incredibly on edge. 
You return home a bit late in the evening after hanging out with some friends. You’ve had a fair bit of wine, so you're feeling a little tipsy, but you're in a pleasantly good mood. You're also decently horny; your mind drifts to your neighbor, conjuring up the image of him returning from the gym, sweaty, muscular, his t-shirt damp and tightly fitted against his sculpted body. 
Not two minutes pass after you step inside before you hear the SLAM of a door from the hallway. Footsteps approach your unit, followed by frantic knocking on your front door. 
You scurry over to the entrance, reaching out to unlock the door, but the pit in your stomach makes you pause. What if he’s mad at you? you start to worry. 
Well, only one way to find out. 
With the click the deadbolt turns. You swing the door open to reveal Jihoon, in a plain white t-shirt and grey fucking sweatpants. 
He stares at you, standing frozen in your doorway. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to calculate if this is all a mistake. 
After just enough moments of silence for it to be awkward, he clears his throat. 
“Hi, um… May I come in?”
He looks incredibly tense, but the way he's staring at you with such intensity makes your pussy ache. 
“Sure.”
You step aside, gesturing for him to come in. 
He enters. He takes a look around as you shut the door behind him. 
“It's really nice in here,” he comments, attempting to make small talk. 
“Oh, thank you,” you say with a friendly smile. He looks even more nervous now that he's in your apartment. He pauses, nonchalantly observing some of the artwork on your wall, seemingly trying (and failing) to come up with a good segue into whatever he came over here to say. 
“So, um…” he starts, rubbing his hands together anxiously. 
“I just wanted to… uh… well, I figured I should probably let you know…” 
You inch even closer to him as he stumbles over his words; his shoulders tense slightly. He runs one hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. 
“I guess I just wanted to apologize,” he finally is able to articulate. “I just recently realized that the walls in this building are pretty thin and uh… well I guess I don’t know if I've been loud at all…” 
Blushed redness creeps up his neck as his terrible lying resonates through the room. 
Maybe it's the way he's standing there, doing nothing but stumbling over his words yet looking incredibly sexy, or maybe it's the wine - but you're feeling bold today. 
“Yeah, you have been.”
The pale color of his cheeks suddenly goes even paler, turning his entire face sheet-white as he stands there, horrified. Then, the redness returns with a vengeance. He looks like a very hot, very nervous tomato. 
“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I really had no idea-”
“Why are you apologizing?”
He stares at you, confused. 
“Um…”
He waits for you to clarify, but you don't. Seeing him this flustered up close and personal has your panties soaked already, and you want to revel in it. 
He lets out a deep sigh. 
“I just… I know I can be loud sometimes, but from now on I’ll be more conscientious of my… volume. And I just don't want you to think I’m perverted or anything…”
He shakes his head, realizing he's just digging himself a deeper hole at this point. 
“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you, I should get going-”
He tries to slip past you, but you throw your arm out in front of him, slamming your palm into the wall of the narrow hallway as you block him from exiting. He freezes, involuntarily holding his breath as panic spreads across his face. 
“What if I like it?”
Your arm brushes against his torso, his chest heaving into you with his quickening breaths. 
“What?” he asks, barely more than a whisper, clearly taken aback by your question. 
“What if I like hearing you?”
His eyes widen. You step even closer into his personal space, your face now mere inches from his. 
“What if I want to hear you making those noises on this side of the wall, in my bed?”
You grasp onto his t-shirt, yanking his body into yours. He lets out a gasp as your tits press into his chest - his mouth is now so close to yours that you feel the exhale against your lips. 
“Would you like that?”
He gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Then - he kisses you. 
It's not a delicate kiss, nor is it sweet. He kisses you as if he intends to devour you, hungrily tugging at your lips as he grasps at your waist fervorously, aching to touch every inch of you. 
His large hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping your sides tight as he caresses your warm skin. Your heart races in your chest, the sounds of rushing blood flooding your ears as you kiss Jihoon, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, basking in the radiant heat of his body against yours. 
“Oh wow,” he mutters into your mouth as his lips depart yours briefly. 
You grasp onto his tshirt, balling the fabric in your fists, pulling him with you as you stumble toward your bedroom together, still kissing him. 
As you step through the doorway, you tug on his shirt, prompting him to remove it. He pauses, contemplating the taste of wine lingering on your lips.
“Are you… drunk?” he asks delicately. “I just want to make sure…”
“A little,” you reply, leaning into him, so close that the vibrations of your soft-spoken words resonate against his lips.
“But I know what I want.”
Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your hips, his grip unrelentless, as if someone was going to take you away from him. A thick bulge beneath his sweatpants presses against you as he holds you tightly against him.
“And what do you want?” he asks in a low voice, staring at you hungrily. “Tell me.”
“First,” you start, pulling at his shirt again. “Get rid of this.”
He yanks his tshirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Standing before you now, shirtless, you get a true look at his brawny figure: huge biceps framing his body, thick pectorals protruding from his chest, chiseled abs sculpting his stomach. The man has muscles you didn’t even know existed. You delicately drag your fingertips up and down his torso, admiring him; his cock twitches against you at your touch.
“God you’re so fucking hot,” you mumble as you gaze into his eyes - giving him the most pathetic, needy, seductive look you can muster. 
Redness spreads across his neck and chest. He’s clearly easily flustered (at least, for you), and you plan to take full advantage of this. 
You slip one finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly. 
“Now, get rid of these.”
Obediently, he slides his pants down, having to stretch the elastic further to get it over his bulge. Kicking the sweats off, you get a clearer look at what he’s packing. Even through the dark fabric of his underwear, the outline of his hard cock is undeniable - not only long, but thick. Your pussy clenches at the mere sight of his size. 
You can't wait any longer. You run your hand over his clothed cock, feeling its weight in your palm. Jihoon groans, letting out the sweet sound you've until now only heard muffled through the wall. Hearing him now, here, in your bedroom - it's music to your ears. 
Reaching into his underwear, you grip your hand around his girth - he nearly whimpers at the sensation. You give him a few strokes before pulling his cock fully out, causing you to let out an audible gasp. 
Fucking shit.
Jihoon gives you an embarrassed smile, making you realize you said that out loud and not just in your head. But if anything your reaction wasn't even dramatic enough, because his cock is fucking huge. You take him in your fist, slowly pumping up and down; his eyes roll back into his head, letting out a deep sigh as you stroke him. You press your lips into his neck, planting delicate kisses into the soft skin.
“Oh god,” he groans under his breath. 
With his dick twitching in your hand, growing stiff and somehow even longer, you drop to your knees, positioning your face directly beneath the behemoth of a cock. You gaze up at him as you drag your tongue from his base to his tip; he strokes your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, gazing down at you with a look of equal parts admiration and lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting the precum that has dribbled out. Taking just a tiny bit of his tip between puckered lips, you begin suckling on it, lapping up his juices and teasing him with the bare-minimum stimulation. His low hum swells into a moan as you slowly slide his cock into your mouth, taking as much of his length as possible before you start to choke (Not yet, you think to yourself. Save that for later.)
“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he groans, cupping your cheek in his large hand as you stare up at him with big doe eyes. “So beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.” 
Sharp throbbing pulses between your legs at the slightest of praise. You slide your mouth up and down his length, gradually increasing your pace. His tip hitting the back of your mouth only makes you want more, makes you want to swallow him whole, gag on the entire shaft as his massive size fills your throat. Finally, you can resist no longer - you swallow the rest of him, your lips greeting his base as his full length slides down your throat. Tears instantly begin welling in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, choking on Jihoon’s cock.
He places one hand upon your hair, grasping it in his fist as you give him the absolute sloppiest head he’s ever received. Grotesque gagging sounds emanate from your throat, but are nearly drowned out by the lewd string of moans coming from Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to watch you choke on his cock, see your tears flowing freely as you stare up at him, eyes longingly transfixed upon each other - but he can’t help but shut his eyes, head falling back at the overwhelming pleasure you’re making him feel. It starts to take over his whole body - his hips reflexively begin thrusting, sinking his length deep into your throat. Before long he pulls you by the hair, wresting you off of him; strings of saliva stretch from his drenched cock to your coated lips, bubbles of spit running down your chin. 
“Sorry, that was going to make me cum way too fast,” he tells you with a sheepish smile. “You’re just so- ohhh…” His sentence is cut off by you placing one of his balls in your mouth, lightly sucking on it before taking the other as well. 
“Fuck that’s hot,” he grumbles, stroking your hair gently. You shift on your knees, trying to sit more comfortably upon the floor; Jihoon notices.
“Come here,” he instructs as he pulls you up off the floor. “I want you to be comfortable.” 
He brings you over to the bed, laying down atop it. You go to resume your place between his legs, but he grabs your arms to stop you.
“You should take these off,” he insists, tugging at your clothes with desperation in his eyes. “Please. I wanna see you.”
You pull your shirt over your head, discarding it to the floor. Slowly you unfasten your pants, sliding them down your hips - a bit timidly, for as horny as you are right now you’re suddenly afflicted with a wave of shyness. But the way Jihoon is looking at you - eyes glazed over with pure lust, licking his lips like he wants to devour you - is driving you utterly crazy. You swiftly remove your bra and panties, standing nude before him as he marvels at the sight of you.
“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. Your pussy clenches, attempting to alleviate the powerful aching in your core. Jihoon takes your hand, drawing you into the side of the bed.
“Sit on my face. Please.”
It’s not an order; the way he is looking up at you, squeezing your hand - he’s begging.
“Only if I can suck your cock at the same time,” you say with a cheeky grin. His eyes widen. 
“Would you like that?” you ask coyly, batting your eyelashes at him as you trace circles on his stomach with one fingernail. 
“Y-yeah,” he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly.  
“Good.”
You crawl onto the bed, swinging your legs over Jihoon’s head as you face his painfully erect cock. You situate yourself steadily, lowering your pussy toward his face, until you feel his soft, plush lips against you. Instantly he lets out a loud moan, the vibrations against your soaked core triggering a sharp jolt in your stomach. He wraps his arms around your inner thighs, holding you tight against him, his moans still resonating through the room even with his face buried in your cunt. 
He begins to work his tongue deep into your folds, licking every last bit, lapping up as much of your juices as he possibly can - the rest certainly dripping down his chin. You lean over, reaching for his thick cock one more; you grip the base tight in your fist, stroking the hilt while taking the rest in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length. The pathetic noises coming from under your cunt grow even louder - Jihoon begins to squirm underneath you, bucking his hips as he continues eating you out as if the world were ending tomorrow. He latches onto your clit, suckling on the stimulated bud; you cry out, but the sound is garbled amidst your cacophony of unbridled gagging noises. Your eyes flood with tears as your orgasm rapidly approaches - you grind your hips on his face, stimulating your pussy further and further, the burning in your gut swelling and swelling, your legs trembling even in Jihoon’s tight embrace. Your whole body convulses atop of his as you reach your climax. Desperate for air, you pull your head up, your mouth now empty but quickly refilled with cries of pleasure as you cum all over Jihoon’s face. 
“Oh my godddd,” you wail, your mind going blank as every nerve in your body lights up like fireworks. 
“Oh my god, oh fuckkkk, Jihoon…”
The rumbling vibrations of his groaning carry you through an overpowering orgasm; you ride out your high as he sucks on your clit mercilessly while his nose presses into your cunt. You’re seeing stars as you begin to come down, unable to think any coherent thoughts - instead basking in how fucking incredible Jihoon just made you feel. 
You lift your throbbing pussy off his face, giving your poor overstimulated clit a moment to recover. 
“Gonna cum, ‘m so close,” Jihoon moans. You quickly pop his dick back into your mouth, sliding his length in and out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock like your life depends on it. 
“Ahh, ahhhhh, ah fuck-” 
Hot white ropes shoot deep into your throat as he releases. His melodic moans and whining cries form a grand symphony that fills your bedroom - in this moment, you are absolutely certain that you've never heard a more beautiful sound. 
His cock pulsates in your mouth, letting out every last spurt of cum for you to eagerly swallow. As he finishes, you slowly slide his cock out of your mouth - still marveling at the sheer size of it. 
“Oh my god,” he groans softly. You swing your leg over his head, turning yourself around to lay beside him. You wrap your arms around his torso, becoming the big spoon as you nuzzle your face into his neck. 
“Wow,” he proclaims with a deep, satisfied exhale. He lays silently as he recovers, catching his breath and coming back down to earth. Finally, with a sigh, he turns to face you. You raise your head up enough for your noses to meet. 
Jihoon gazes into your eyes, eyelids heavy in his post-orgasmic bliss. He hesitates, bringing his hand up to your cheek and cradling it gently. 
“Can I kiss you?” he finally asks, his voice no more than a soft whisper. 
You nod. He kisses you - this time not hungry and desperate, but slow and saccharine. Your lips lock, laying there entangled in each other’s embrace - his muscular arms hold you tight, enveloping you in the warmth radiating from both of your sweat-covered bodies. As your lips eventually part, you remain snuggled by his side - him playing with your hair while you trace your fingertips over his toned body. Eventually, he takes your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him. 
“I don’t know if fucking your next door neighbor is necessarily a wise thing to do,” he starts. “But that was incredible. You’re incredible.”
You smile. 
“I don't know either,” you chuckle. “But the way you basically broke down my door to come fuck me was really hot.”
Jihoon laughs, his face lighting up with a beaming smile. 
“Yeah, um. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to do that.”
“I do,” you inform him. “You were thinking with your dick.”
“Okay yeah, you're right,” he admits with a grin. 
He reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm. 
“Would you want to do this again?” 
“Like, right now?” you reply. 
“No I mean like- … well, yes actually,” he answers, his face lighting up with excitement. “But I meant like, in the future.”
You nod, a wide grin spreading across your face. 
“I’d like that.”
“Good,” he smiles. “Me too.”
“But also…”
Your arms grab hold of him, rolling him over on top of you. He tries to shift, to not be placing his whole weight upon you, but you cling to him tightly, holding him in place. You roll your hips, stroking his still half-erect cock with your soaked cunt; you feel it pulse in response, already beginning to harden again. 
“I want you to fuck me,” you speak softly into his ear, continuing to grind your pussy on his cock. His eyes roll back in his head once more. 
“God you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes open again, peering down at you amorously. 
“Give me just a minute, baby,” he says as he shifts downward, positioning himself directly in front of your boobs. He grabs one with each hand, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. He licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around the protruding bud, wetting it with his warm mouth before switching to your other breast. He gives them equal attention, licking and sucking on them, back and forth - whichever boob isn't in his mouth, he pinches your hard nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You press your hips up into his stomach, seeking any relief for your aching clit, but it's not enough. You whimper as he latches on to your left nipple, suckling on it so long you think you might cum again just from this. You feel the bed move beneath you as he grinds his cock against the sheets, thrusting into the mattress, seeking relief for his returned erection. 
He lifts his head up, releasing his latch on your breast with a wet-sounding pop. His eyes stay fixed on you as he shifts further down the bed, resting comfortably between your legs as his lips hover above your cunt. 
“Is this okay?” he checks before placing his mouth on you. You nod earnestly, brushing your fingers through his damp, messy hair. His tongue locates your entrance, slipping into your pussy, his nose brushing up against your clit, still highly sensitive from your first orgasm. You moan as his tongue glides through your folds, his face becoming soaked once again in your juices. He flickers over your clit, the warmth and wetness of his tongue quickly sending you over the edge. Your body writhes beneath him as you cum a second time, crying out with even greater pleasure than the first. It's almost overbearing, but you relish in it, delicious waves of bliss pulsating throughout your whole being. His tongue slows, licking you softly as you lay there, unable to move for a few good minutes, basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your fist slowly unclenches, releasing the grip you didn't realize you had on his tousled locks. 
“Damn,” you mumble, a big goofy grin spreading across your face. Jihoon crawls back up toward you, kissing you with lips drenched in your own cum. His cock, fully hard once more, brushes against your cunt. Although you're still trying to catch your breath, you place your entrance against his tip to taunt him. 
“Please fuck me,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you. 
He pushes his cockhead into your pussy, letting out a moan as he feels your warmth. Your walls tighten as he slides the rest of his length in, fully enveloping his cock - he whines, loudly, letting the delicious sensation overtake him. He rests for a moment inside you, fearing to move as he feels the urge to cum already. But he’s too aroused to resist for much longer - slowly he begins to pump into you, deep thrusts stretching you out, filling you up like you've never felt before. He’s almost too big, but you love it. Tears well in your eyes again as he fucks you -  slow and tender at first, but gradually increasing his pace, soon pounding into you with powerful force. The stretch is overwhelming, but his long strokes and perfect tempo have you screaming his name, voluminous cries filling the air as he fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before. 
“You’re taking me so well baby,” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “So pretty…”
His voice trails off. High-pitched grunts and groans escape him as his body begins to stiffen, another climax rapidly on its way. He drives his cock into you, your perfect pussy squeezing him so tight that he can't think straight. 
“Y/n…” he cries. “Fuck, y/n I'm cumming…”
With several powerful thrusts he releases deep inside you, warm cum filling you up until you're completely full - so full that it begins to leak out of you, coating his cock and dripping all over the sheets. He finishes, laying frozen on top of you, heaving breaths echoing in your ear as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck. His cock rests inside you still, twitching occasionally against your walls. His breathing becomes so steady that you start to think he’s fallen asleep - but eventually he lifts his head, resting his temple on his fist as he takes in the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out beneath him. A lazy smile appears on his face as he stares at you, his pink cheeks glowing in his post-orgasm state. He looks so good that you involuntarily let out a little giggle. 
“What?” he asks, his grin growing wider. 
“You're just really hot, that's all.”
His face somehow turns even rosier. He lets out an embarrassed tsk as he tries to hide his face in his hands. 
“What? You are!!” you proclaim, pulling his hands away so you can see him again. 
“Sorry,” he replies timidly. “I’m not good with compliments.”
“You'll get used to it,” you say matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow at you. 
“You say that like this is going to be a regular thing now,” he retorts, trying to keep a straight face - but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, revealing the grin he's trying to hold back. 
“Do you want it to be?” you ask. 
Unable to hide his smile any longer, he nods. 
“I’d like that.”
Slowly, he pulls his spent cock out of you, making you whine at the empty sensation as even more of his cum spills out of you. 
“Wait here,” he says, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
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emotionoitme · 3 months ago
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trouble
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trouble - coldplay
part 3 of don’t call my name
warnings: angst, hurt + arguing but it’s steamy, drinking and clubbing, some violence (she gets grabbed and threatened but nothing happens), guard dog carmy bark bark, carmy throws hands & brief mention of blood. comfort sex, sappy and sweet but hot, it’s unprotected what else did you expect from me, dirty talk, some drama with claire i’m sorry 
wc: 9.0k
a/n: so…i told everyone this was going to be 3 parts when it actually needs 4. i fear i am just too much of a yapper. i love these two and think i needed to do the story justice. so stay tuned for ch4. hehehehe. hope u enjoy!!! (it is going to get angsty) 
playlist
carmen berzatto is a shitty communicator. 
this we know to be a fact. 
it’s just, sometimes when there are a thousand thoughts swarming around his head, it’s easier to not say anything at all. that makes sense, right? 
the girl wakes up the next morning to find herself alone. the plush king sized bed almost mocks her with emptiness.
she knows that carmy is a hard worker. a michelin star kitchen doesn’t just run itself. still, it might be nice to get a note, or text, or anything that would reassure her last night wasn’t just some fluke to to him. 
the silence of the apartment is almost deafening. she trudges down the stairs and walks to the kitchen, pouring herself what was left in the coffee pot from carmy’s early morning. 
she feels lethargic, sore, and a little stung from waking up alone. no text or anything, she thinks. 
but there was still time. maybe he was just really busy today. she pushes away the negative thoughts and slaps both of her cheeks lightly, trying to wake herself up. it would be a good day. he would text her or call her when he got a break. and they would talk about it. she puts a smile on her face at the delusion and hops back up the stairs to get dressed for work. 
the girl tries to busy herself when she gets there, picking up extra slack from coworkers and bustling around to finish projects. trying to not check her phone. 
she goes on lunch break with no text from him. 
gets off work at 5 with no text from him. 
throws his sheets in the wash and remakes his bed with no text from him. 
eats dinner with no text from him. 
watches a movie at 9:30 with, you guessed it. 
she throws her phone back onto the bed angrily, the false wall of positivity built in her mind beginning to crumble. she’s tired and annoyed, so she shuts off the movie and buries herself in bed, trying to push thoughts of him out of mind so she could sleep. 
she tells herself that they can talk tomorrow. but then, tomorrow comes and it’s the same nothing, almost like she didn’t even have a roommate. 
three silent days go by until the girl decides she’s had enough, and plans to wait up for him and have a talk. maybe he just wasn’t a texting type of guy, she tries to comfort herself. 
she grabs her book and a throw blanket and camps out on the couch, waiting for him to get home. 
it’s close to midnight before she hears keys jingling and the lock turning. her heart drops inexplicably but she remains nonchalant and continues reading her book until she hears him take a few steps inside. 
she turns her head, watching him talk on the phone as he slides his shoes off. he doesn’t notice her in the dim light of the living room, and his brows are furrowed, hand running through his messy curls. 
“yeah. yeah, i’m- i know….sorry again,” a pause, “okay. i’ll see you saturday. bye, claire.” 
her eyebrows shoot up at the name, the sinking feeling with in her stomach increasing tenfold. this motherfucker. 
carmen makes it halfway into the living room before he notices her on the couch, slightly startling at her presence, mumbling a “shit”
her face feels hot, but not in the good way she had grown accustomed to the past few weeks. 
“hey,” he greets softly, eyes looking tired, shoulders slumped. 
she just glares at him and goes back to reading her book. 
he says her name. she ignores him.
the man lets out a small scoff, stepping closer to the couch, hand on his hip. 
“what, you, uh, ignoring me?” 
she glances up at him and there’s a small smirk on his face, like he thinks it’s joke or something. 
she opens her mouth to say something mean, but stops herself. takes a deep breath. recenters. 
she slams her book shut and turns to face him. 
“i’m going to bed.” 
the man’s small smirk drops, watching as she shoots up from the couch and starts heading towards the stairs. he grabs her wrist to stop her. 
“hey,” he says, firmer this time. 
she whips around and pulls her arm back. 
“what?” she snaps. 
his brows furrow at her tone of voice. he pauses for a second, eyes raking down her face, taking in her expression. 
“why are you acting like that?” he asks. 
the question does nothing but make her feel angrier. 
“because you’re being fucking confusing,” the girl exclaims, her throat growing tight.
“how am i confusing?” carmen replies with a surge of annoyance, “you woke me up the other night with…” his eyes dart down her frame, “half your fuckin’ clothes on.” he tries to sound angry, but his voice betrays him a bit. truthfully, it was like his prayers had come true when he opened his eyes to find her straddling him in underwear and a tiny little top that barely kept her chest contained. 
“yeah cause i thought you were into me,” she frustratedly sighs, “but you’re just…using me to get over claire.” 
the allegation wasn’t rooted in fact. but that’s how the girl felt, and she confuses the two in the moment. 
“don’t say that.” he snaps, “that’s not fuckin’ true in the slightest.” carmen had been done with claire for months at this point. if anything, he had been trying to use claire to get over his roommate.
“it’s been three days since we-… and you haven’t said anything,” she sighs, rubbing her forehead, feeling a headache come on. 
he knows his, and feels guiltier than she could even imagine. but he also knows she’s leaving in a few short weeks, and doesn’t want to fall any deeper than he already has for her. 
“i got busy at work.” he defends. it’s a shitty excuse, but as usual, it’s the first to come to mind. 
her eyes brows crease further. 
“you have a phone.” she chides.
“i just…i didn’t think about it,” he lies, “i’m sorry.”
she scoffs and shakes her head. 
“god, you’re so-,” another sigh, “you know, whatever, carm.” she turns from him and begins to walk up the stairs. 
he hates how his eyes glance down to her ass, peaking out from beneath a pair of short shorts. 
god he’s a fucking loser, he tells himself. 
carmy calls her name again. she ignores him. 
-
the girl slams her bedroom door behind her and throws herself onto her bed. she tries to fight the hot, angry tears that stream down her face, telling herself it doesn’t really bother her. telling herself that he’s just another stupid guy, and she can find better. this does nothing to ease the burning feeling in her chest, though, a pair of soft blue eyes flashing in her mind. thinking of the way he was rough with her while still being gentle, kissing her face and calling her sweet names. thinking of how he held her and wiped her tears and assured her that things would work out. 
fucking asshole! 
she grabs her duvet and pulls it over her head, wrapping herself tightly and burrowing into the pillow. she tells herself that she won’t make the mistake of giving into him again. wouldn’t ever grace him with her lips or fingers or sweet moans again. 
she tells herself that she doesn’t need him. she could easily find someone else that would satisfy that same feral craving she had for carmen. 
in fact, tomorrow would be friday, and she hadn’t gone out in a long time. she decides on calling up a friend and making a friday night plan to go out. drink, dance, and prove to herself that there’s better for her out there than carmy. 
the girl aggressively rubs her face of tears and shoots up out of bed, grabbing her phone to send the invitation to a girlfriend. her phone pings with a quick response, and the girl confirms her plan for the following night, already envisioning what to wear. the thought of seeing carmy tomorrow night before she goes out makes her stomach churn. the thought of seeing him at all makes it churn, actually. 
she tells herself that she only has to stick it out for another month or so. then she would go back to california and things would be normal. no more stupid boys. no more heated touches. no more whimpers being greedily devoured by hungry kisses. 
she tells herself that’s what she wants. 
it doesn’t feel genuine in the slightest. 
the following morning she rummages through her closet and picks out a couple of skimpy options. she studies herself in the mirror, holding up the various items up in front of her nude body, wondering what carmy would think of the outfits. she quickly tries to push the thought out of mind. she doesn’t care what he thinks, she reminds herself. her eyes fixate on the finger-shaped bruises scattered about her hips. she thinks of how they got there. 
her day at work seems to go impossibly slow. the girl finds herself thinking of carmen constantly, caught between hoping there would be a text from him when she would check her phone and hoping she would never hear from him again. 
her mind frequently flashes to the way he handled her a few nights ago. how he kissed her obsessively. how he held her up once her legs had given out. how he relentlessly plowed into her and called her a pretty girl and told her she was made for him. 
the thought simultaneously makes her horny and angry, something that she had never experienced so vividly until now. she wanted to slap his face, but at the same time she wanted to kiss him and grind against him and beg for him again. 
it’s entirely confusing. 
by the time 10 o clock rolls around, she begins to get ready, meticulously styling her hair and applying her makeup. she opts for a sultry, smokey look, accentuating her eyes with dark shadow and liner, glossing her pouty lips with a clear lacquer. the girl tries to hurry the routine, anxious to make it out the door before carmen gets back. 
she strips her clothes off and slips into her club apparel, then decorates her look with rings, bracelets, earrings, and a necklace. as she slides her thigh high boots on, she hears the front door open, then slam closed.
“fuck,” she harshly exhales. looks like she would have to see him after all. 
carmy racks his keys onto the hook and steps out of his shoes, taking a deep breath at the relief of being home. it’s not until he notices the light coming from upstairs that the relief is replaced with a sense of anxiety. 
he knows he needs to fix things between him and his roommate, if he could even refer to her as just that anymore. he had felt like a jackass all week, but apologies were never really his strong suit. he didn’t even know where to start. 
the man empties his pockets out onto the credenza, then begins to make his way into the living room. he stops in his tracks when he hears the click of heels descending the stairs. 
as he turns his head and catches sight of her, he fights to stifle a groan. 
she comes down clad in a tight top and mini skirt, length of her legs emphasized by black thigh high boots. his eyes rake down her body, admiring the curve of her figure and the appealing fit of the clothes. he wishes that she would dress like that all the time, but he doesn’t tell her that, instead just opting for a casual, albeit slightly strained “hey.”
she looks at him, but doesn’t reply, instead sauntering over to their bar cart and pouring herself a shot. he realizes the top is backless, and clenches his jaw a bit, trying to recenter with a deep breath. 
“you, uh…you look nice,” he clears his throat. 
she throws back the shot and shivers. 
“thanks,” her response comes dryly, walking over to grab her purse, “i’ll be back in a few hours.”
carmen feels his brain stutter, processing what she said, his eyebrows furrowing. 
“wait you, uh, you’re going out dressed like that?” he can’t help but feel a bit protective, even if she is pissed off at him. the girl scoffs. 
“i can’t really go to the club in sweatpants, carm.” 
he rubs a hand over his face, trying to keep calm. 
“you could, uh….at least put a fuckin’ jacket on or something though?” he tries to suggest kindly. his tone betrays him. 
“yeah?” she turns towards him, “why the fuck do you care?” bite in her tone. 
his eyes fall over the multiple hickeys that litter her neck, then flicker over her face, realizing how striking her features look accentuated by dark makeup. she looks angry. a little hurt. he wants to say something soothing. 
“cause i-fuck,” hand threading through his hair messily, “because i know how guys think.” 
nice. real soothing. 
“yeah? n’what do they think?” she challenges. 
that anyone would want you. that you look fucking hot wearing those tight little clothes.
carmy opts to not respond so directly, and walks closer to her. 
“i just don’t want you to get… hurt.” his tone is firm, jaw set tightly. she lets out a sardonic laugh at this. at the fact that he’s her biggest source of hurt at the moment.
“what, you think it’s funny?” he barks, “you could get fuckin’…picked up or drugged or something.” 
she rolls her eyes. 
“that’s not gonna happen. i’m going with a friend.” she snatches her purse off the credenza, fumbling through it to make sure she has her id. he takes a few steps closer. until he can smell her sweet perfume. 
“well, let me drive you guys then.” 
she shakes her head. 
“no. we’re getting a cab.” zipping up her purse and hanging it over her shoulder. 
“fuck, then call me when you get there. and when you’re leaving.” he snaps a bit, becoming a bit fed up with her attitude. 
“not gonna fuckin’ call you, carmy,” her face scrunches up in anger, “i’ll probably end up going home with someone, anyways,” she fibs, locking eyes with him, unintentionally leaning in a bit. 
“you what?” he angers, moving even closer to her, their faces mere inches apart. 
she can feel the shot she took now, eyes darting down to his lips. fuck his deodorant. the smell of it makes her want to give in.
“‘mgonna find someone tonight,” her tone lower now, lids low, “‘n they’re gonna fuck me better than you ever will.” 
he scoffs, blood boiling at her words, shaking his head, eyebrow twitching. 
“yeah, uh, that’s not gonna fuckin’ happen.” his hand comes to wrap around her hip, squeezing. his face comes closer, lips nearly ghosting hers.
“yeah?” she challenges, actively fighting to keep from diving in, eyes locked on his lips.
“yeah,” tone firm, “tell your friend you’re staying in tonight.” 
she doesn’t know why she feels so turned on. still pissed off, yes, but mostly aroused. 
she rolls her eyes and lets out a laugh to hide this, but he can tell. he can always tell by the slight flutter of her eyelids and the way she’ll part her lips. he knows that she likes when he talks to her like that. 
the girl channels all of her strength and steps away from him, opening the front door. 
“see you tomorrow,” she chimes, walking out. he calls her name as she walks away, but she ignores him. he tells himself he’s too proud to chase after her, but really he wants to do nothing more. 
as she makes her way down the hall, his eyes rake down her exposed back, settling on her shapely ass. 
this girl was going to drive him fucking crazy. 
-
carmy berzatto (2hrs): you make it there? 
missed call from carmy berzatto (1hr)
carmy berzatto (30min): call me if you need a ride home. 
the girl shuts off her phone, shoving it back in her purse and strutting to the bar counter. sure, now he cared enough to send a text. 
jealous motherfucker. 
it had been a girls night out until her friend went home with an ex boyfriend, leaving her all alone at the club. she leans over the counter, pushing her hair over her shoulder. her feet are sore from the boots she had picked out, coupled with an hour or so of nonstop dancing. 
the girl had planned to leave as soon as her friend did, but made the mistake of passing through the main room where they were playing 2000s music. she couldn’t just not dance to 2000s. 
the bartender works quickly to accommodate the numerous orders. she feels the drink she had been sipping on affecting her, comfortably bathing in the multicolored lights of the club. it was packed with people, and she had been noticing eyes on her all night. 
the girl feels a hand on her lower back, and she turns to meet the eyes of a tall man.
“hi,” he says.
“hey,” she softly replies.
he was admittedly handsome, and his muscular stature didn’t hurt to look at either. 
“can i buy you a drink?” the man asks. 
the girl softly smiles and nods. he raises his hand to flag the bartender. she was planning on getting a water, but since she wasn’t paying for it…
the stranger makes small talk with her, the two having to practically yell into each other’s ear to hear over the bass of the music. jobs, what part of town they live, compliments. not that she really cares about any of it, though she tries to. 
as he leans in to ask if she’ll dance with him, he places his hand on her waist. she tries to ignore how it doesn’t feel right. 
he’s cute, she tells herself, and i needs to stop thinking about carmy. 
the girl takes a long sip of her drink and nods softly, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor. they squeeze through the crowd of bodies, and she turns to face him, hand on his chest. he places a hand on her lower back, and they begin to move to the beat. she takes another long sip of her drink, closing her eyes, coming closer to the man, swaying her hips. his deodorant doesn’t smell as good as carmen’s does. doesn’t comfort her like his does. 
she takes another sip, and she circles around, moving her hips, facing away from the man. the music resonates through the whole building, lights flash and change color, making her movements feel dreamlike. he places his hands on her hips. 
she wishes that she liked how it felt. 
the man presses his hips into her backside. she imagines it’s carmen, and the thought makes her bite down onto her lip. her head falls back against his chest. she thinks of her roommate’s strong arms. his tattoos. the way his face scrunched up when he fully engulfed himself in her. the girl lets out a breath. her skin feels hot and sticky in the muggy club air. she takes another long sip of alcohol, feeling lips on her neck. they feel strange and unfamiliar. it doesn’t set off that tingling sensation in her lower stomach. she groans out of frustration. 
“mmm you like that don’t you, pretty girl?” the man slurs into her ear. 
the name makes her heart drop, and all of the sudden she feels like she needs to throw up. she shoves the stranger’s hands away and stumbles forward, pushing her way out of the crowd. the floor feels like it’s tilting on an axis as she cringes at the feeling of other sweaty bodies touching her. she gets shoved into by a big group and loses her drink. 
it’s suddenly hard to breathe. the girl feels her throat tighten, her chest burning, wiping hot tears away. she fights and pushes and weaves through the crowd until she finally breaks free, making a beeline for the glowing red exit sign. the girl shoves the door open, almost tripping over the frame, and stumbles out into the cold night. 
the frigid air helps alleviate some of her nausea, skin rising in goosebumps. she trudges along the brick wall and leans her back against it, focusing on taking deep breaths. her hands run through her messy hair, pushing it out of her face, closing her eyes, trying to stop the steady flow of tears. 
this night was supposed to be fun, but all she wanted to do was go home and sleep this booze off. all she wanted was carmen. 
her hands fumble through her purse, grabbing her phone. she drops it, muttering a “shit,” and crouches down to pick it up. she squints her eyes at the light of the display, struggling to navigate to the uber app. she enters her address, cursing internally when she sees the friday night surge prices. instead, she exits uber and finds her contacts, hovering over the number of a cab company. her eyes glance towards carmen's contact, right below. 
she doesn’t want to call him. he was being an asshole, and she hates how easily he was able to get under her skin. so she dials the contact for the cab, listening to the line ring. and ring. and ring. almost infinitely, then a automated voice of “your call cannot be completed.” 
“fuck,” she curses, terminating the call. 
her eyes fixate on his name, pausing and contemplating. 
she rolls her eyes and dials it. the line rings twice and gets picked up with a raspy greeting and a “y’okay?” 
she stays silent for a second, not sure what to say. he says her name. 
“did you know that you are-” she hiccups, “s-so mean?” it’s the only thing that comes to mind. 
“are you drunk?” he asks.
“no. m’not” she argues, wiping a stray tear. 
“you sound drunk,” he retorts, “where are you? i’m coming to get you.” 
“you’re so fucking…rude. ‘nyou think you can just do whatever you want because you’re so-” hiccup, “hot… and big…you irritate me, carm,” she slurs into the line. she opens her mouth to say more, but he cuts her off by saying her name sternly. 
“you at prysm? tunnel?” 
“yeah. that one.” she hiccups again. 
“tunnel? okay, stay right there. i’m getting in my car now.” 
“ok but i’m still mad at you,” she murmurs, leaning against the cool brick. he scoffs, and starts saying something about her bad attitude, but she cuts him off by hanging up, harshly exhaling and closing her eyes tightly. the tears continue falling, so she just tries to focus on her breathing. 
a cool breeze causes her to stiffen, wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. it’s uncomfortable, but grounding. her head stops spinning so much as she begins to breathe deeply. the tears come to a steady stop, but the aching in her chest doesn’t. she wishes carmen would hold her and kiss her head. 
around fifteen minutes pass before she hears the back door of the club open. the girl keeps her eyes shut, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t bother her. though it seems she’s not so lucky tonight, unfortunately. 
“hey, you,” a deep voice says. she snaps her eyes open to find the same tall man she was dancing with earlier standing in front of her. 
she just stares at him silently, crossing her arms in front of her to help provide some modesty. 
“listen, i think we get along well. and you’re really hot,” he explains drunkenly, “why don’t i help you get home?” 
she feels icked out, trying to refrain from rolling her eyes.
“m’not interested, sorry. i have someone coming to pick me up.” 
the man scoffs. 
“you were plenty interested earlier when i bought you a drink,” taking a step closer to her, “c’mon. don’t be a tease.” he has a smirk on his face. she feels her heart begin to pound against her chest. 
carmy was right, it was a mistake to come out. she tries to take a step away from him, blocked by the hard brick wall. 
“seriously, i’m not interested,” she tries to sound assertive, “my boyfriend will be here any second so just leave me alone.” she hopes he can’t read through her lie. 
“your boyfriend?” he asks, smirk turning into a grin, “you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you? someone should fucking straighten you out.”
her heart drops to her stomach, and she feels sick all over again. she steps forward to shove past him, and he grabs her waist, slamming her back into the wall. 
“don’t fucking touch me!” she yells, grabbing his wrists and digging her nails in. he doesn’t let go. tears begin to stream down her face, heart hammering against her ribcage. she sees headlights from down the street and prays that it’s carmen, continuing to struggle against the man. 
the car speeds up to the curb and jerks to a stop, door flying open. she shuts her eyes tightly and digs her nails in hard enough to draw blood, giving a final attempt at trying to get his hands off of her. 
the girl is suddenly released as the man is jerked backwards by his shoulder. her eyes snap open and graciously land on the person she’s been wanting to see the most. 
everything happens so fast—watching in a haze as carmen practically decks the guy in the face, sending the stranger stumbling back, gripping a bloody nose. 
“you muverfuckr!” he slurs, words muffled by a dripping hand, lunging forward again. carmy shuffles back, then throws another jab square in the face. the man falls backwards onto the ground, sitting on the concrete, looking entirely disoriented. the girl gasps, feeling partially sobered by the scene. 
she watches as the stranger’s blood drips onto the pavement, then darts her gaze over to carmen. his eyes look crazed, jaw tightly locked. he begins to stalk towards the man, clenching his fists that were spotted with red. 
the girl reaches out and grabs his arm. he turns to look at her and his features immediately soften, taking in her tear-soaked cheeks and swollen lips. without thinking, he grabs her arm and pulls her into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around her in a protective bear hug. she clings to his shirt, and cries. he kisses the top of her head. 
he smells so good. smells so safe. 
“s’okay. i got you,” he soothes, “you’re okay.” the man says this as a reassurance to himself as well, rubbing her back, feeling his throat tighten and eyes water a bit. 
the stranger lay flat on his back now, clutching his bleeding nose, mumbling incoherently. 
carmen pulls back from the embrace, but keeps an arm wrapped tightly around her, ushering her to the car. she stumbles a bit, holding onto him securely. she wishes the tears would stop, but they don’t. she feels so scared. so relieved. so fucking grateful. 
he gets her into the car, shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side. she doesn’t want to look at him when he gets in, so she hides her face in her hand, elbow leaning on the arm rest. he doesn’t say anything for the duration of the drive home either. 
she feels embarrassed, tired, and still a little mad at carmy. the whole reason she had wanted to go out and meet guys in the first place was because of his stupid situationship with claire. it was like it made her go into defense mode. 
they had been driving for about 5 minutes, before she feels a dull throbbing in her head, stomach growling, alcohol in her system making her crave greasy nasty salty food. 
she raises her head from her hand, looking at carmen. his eyebrows were knit together tightly, jaw clenched. she leans her head against the headrest as she stares at him lovingly. she loves how protective he gets over her. how strong he is. how blindingly handsome. 
but she’s still mad, of course. 
he catches her gazing at him in his periphery. he looks over, features softening as he catches her eyes momentarily.
“what’s up?” he asks, voice low.
she just looks at him. her lip pouts a bit. 
“you hungry?” comes his question, perfectly timed. 
she allows a soft smile to grace her lips at the accuracy of his guess. 
“mmhm,” she nods, “a burger sounds really good right now. and french fries.” 
he lets out a quiet chuckle, nodding his head, glancing at her again. 
“let’s get you a burger and french fries, then.” 
he turns his signal on and moves to make a quick left, pulling into a drive-thru after a few minutes.
they sit in line waiting for the order to be cooked. she glances over at his face. she wants to kiss him, a little. 
“d’yknow what the ultimate hangover food is?” she asks softly. 
he turns to face her, eyebrows raised in question, a look of amusement on his face. 
“an all american breakfast,” she murmurs with a smile.
“yeah?” he asks, “like…pancakes?”
she nods, biting her lip with a smile. he lets out a soft laugh at this.
“and bacon and eggs. and hash browns. fuck,” her eyes are closed, like she’s imagining it in front of her. this makes the man laugh a bit harder, hand coming to smooth over his face. 
“good answer,” he tells her once he stops smiling as much. 
“what’s yours?” she asks, gazing at him a bit longingly. 
“my what?” 
“your hangover cure food.”
“uh, probably…saltines?”. 
the girl lets out a laugh. 
“the alcohol upsets my stomach,” he admits. 
she laughs harder, burying her face in her hands. 
“you are so cute,” she amuses. 
he fights the heat that rushes to his face when she says this, and they pull forward to the pick up window. 
the girl takes her first bite into the greasy burger that carmen insists on paying for, and it makes her feel more human than she has all night. 
-
carmy parks the car in his assigned lot, then gets out to assist his roommate out of the car. the food helped her feel much more grounded, but she still has to cling onto his arm to be able to walk straight through the building. 
neither of them say anything. this lasts until they get back to their unit, and carmy locks the door behind them. he watches as the girl stumbles out of her shoes and crashes onto the couch. she throws an arm over her eyes and tries to push away the nausea that comes with laying down. 
“thank you,” she murmurs into her arm after a moment.
“mhm,” he responds, “told you to call me when you needed a ride, though,” shrugging off his jacket.
“i did,” she argues.
“no, you called me… way after you needed one. and you stood outside waiting for me,” his tone grows harsher.
if she wasn’t so nauseous, she’d roll her eyes. 
“i was trying to get away from all the guys that were trying to take me home,” she retorts. she means it to be teasing, but it’s clear he doesn’t take it that way by the peak she steals through her arms. 
“y’know, you-,” he scoffs, “i’m glad you think it’s fuckin’ funny because i-fuck…i was worried about you” he throws his keys onto the table, feeling angry, feeling scared. 
she throws her other arm over her face. her cheeks are hot with embarrassment. her throat suddenly feels tight at his words, like she’s going to cry again. she doesn’t say anything out of fear of her voice breaking. 
carmy chides her name, stalking over to the couch. he stands over her, expectantly waiting for a response, jaw clenching with annoyance. he nudges her arm. she moves it, revealing her tired bloodshot eyes. 
“can we not do this tonight?” she begs hoarsely, “m’so drunk.” 
“you fucking scared me,” he exclaims, grabbing his hair, “what would’ve happened if i didn’t get there in time, huh?” 
“i know,” she sobs, tears now freely flowing, hiding her face in her arms again. 
his heart breaks a bit, watching her cry like that. but he feels so angry that she put herself at risk like that. 
“you-” he stops. takes a deep breath to recenter. “you’re right. let’s not do this tonight.” 
she peaks at him through her arms, feeling completely pathetic. she watches him turn on the small lamp by the couch. he drapes a throw blanket over her before turning to walk upstairs. 
tears continue inexplicably trailing down her cheeks, as her deep breathing begins to lul her into sleep. 
an hour passes. 
she shifts to try and get comfy to no avail. 
30 more minutes. 
everything was so uncomfortable. 
she sits up quickly and shoots off the couch, beelining for the stairs, desperate to get the crunchy makeup and scratchy clothes off. 
she falls up the stairs in her sleepy scramble, knocking against the wall loudly. slowly stands up, holds onto the rail, and exhales before continuing to ascend much more carefully. 
as she walks down the hallway, she unashamedly begins to strip out of her clothing, leaving a trail that leads to the bathroom, telling herself she would take care of it later. she feels sick and lethargic, needing a shower immediately. 
the girl leaves the bathroom light off as she draws a cold shower and steps in right away, drenching herself in the frigid water. she tenses, letting out a sharp exhale, feeling almost immediately soothed. 
it’s as if the water washes away everything bad from the night. she meditatively goes through her routine, cleaning herself. cleaning away everything that happened tonight. cleaning away the man who touched her on the dancefloor, outside of the club. 
the shame and embarrassment that begins to seep in as the alcohol wears off doesn’t wash away as easily. she needs to apologize, she knows that.
the girl dries herself off and wraps her hair in a towel as she walks back to her room, feeling more of a pep in her step following the refreshing shower. she bends down to pick up the strung out clothing she left behind, feeling like she was going crazy because her underwear was nowhere to be found. it would just have to wait until tomorrow, she supposes. 
she’s moisturized and laying in bed, trying to fall asleep. tossing and turning. taking a deep breath. softening her face, muscles. thinking of nice things.
drifting off. mind flashing back to the man grabbing her and slamming her against the brick wall. thinking of what would’ve happened had carmy not come to her rescue. 
her eyes snap open. she sharply inhales and sits up, hanging her legs over the side of the bed. it was going to be impossible to get sleep like this, heart beating way too fast to try and relax. 
she just wants to feel safe. 
without a second thought, she stands and begins walking to carmy’s room. 
she knows he’s pissed off at her. knows he’ll probably tell her to get out. even so, she’s so desperate to get some sleep. so desperate to ease the anxiety that had been festering inside of her all night. 
his door is closed, and she hesitates for a moment before twisting the knob and slipping inside. 
it’s dark—the curtains drawn when they usually aren’t. he lay shirtless on his side, facing away from the door, clutching a pillow in his arms. 
the girl peels back his sheets and slowly slips into bed, resting her head on the soft pillow. she stays there for a moment before scooting closer and laying her face against his back. he’s so warm, and his skin smells safe. her eyes fall shut. she feels him shift. 
carmen wakes up unexpectedly to the feeling of warmth behind him. he knows it’s her without having to look. when she had noisily stumbled upstairs and into the shower, he went to go check on her—almost knocked on the bathroom door, but refrained once he heard soft cries from within. 
he feels her face nuzzle into his back, and he reaches his arm back behind him, wanting to feel where she lay. he touches her hip.
“hi,” she greets softly. 
“hey,” he returns, voice raspy, “y’can’t sleep?” 
she scoots closer to him, hand splaying over his back. 
“just a little… freaked out still…” she whispers. her tone wobbles. 
he shifts at this, and turns around to face her silently. in the low light she can make out the worried furrow of his brows.
she feels guilty for being the subject of his worry. 
“i’m sorry,” the girl confesses, biting back tears. 
carmen’s brows crease further at her apology, immediately wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest. she tucks her face into his neck, shutting her eyes tightly, smelling his skin. 
“y’got nothing to be sorry for,” he plants a kiss atop her head, “wasn’t your fault.” 
“it was my fault,” her voice breaks, “should’ve listened to you,” her arms come around his neck, and she presses her body flush with his. 
“it wasn’t,” he asserts, “that guy was a fuckin’ creep.” his tone is hushed. his arms wrap around her as if he’s scared of losing her. 
“are you still mad at me?” she asks. her breath tickles his neck. 
“i wasn’t mad,” he admits, “just scared.” 
“me too,” matching his hushed tone. “thank you carm,” she whispers, pressing a kiss below his ear, “feel so safe with you.” she shuffles closer, pelvis pressing against his. 
“you are,” he buries his nose in her hair, “always.” hiking her leg over his hip to bring her closer. 
the girl kisses his neck again. and again. pulls him in closer. his smell is completely addicting, and with the angle of her leg she can feel his erection growing against her core. she hopes he can’t feel the wetness that begins to form beneath her shorts. 
his big palm spreads over her ass and squeezes, desperate to hold every inch of her. 
the girl deeply exhales, bothered by how easily he’s able to rouse her. 
the man harshly exhales at the repeated feeling of her bites and licks and kisses, holding onto her with an urgent desperation. trying to wrap around her as if he were keeping her from the world. 
the room becomes hot, and the two shuffle the duvet off. 
carmen calls her name, trying to break her attention. he wants to apologize. wants to confess his shortcomings. wants to look in her big eyes and tell her he’s not enough and never will be. but she ignores his beckon and continues enthusiastically biting and sucking and kissing, hand pressing against his chest. 
he forces his eyes to stay open, weight of his bottled apology heavy on his tongue. 
“hey,” he tries again, voice strained from the pleasure.
“can you put it in?” she breathes into his neck.
“fuck,” he groans, surprised by her forward request, feeling himself pulse against her wetness. 
“please,” she whines, hiking her leg further up onto his hip, trailing her kisses along his jaw, up to his cheek.
he squeezes her ass again, fingers slipping under the fabric of her tiny shorts. her skin was so soft. so hot with arousal. 
“let me play with you,” he strains, “get you ready f’me.”
the girl makes a sound of protest, kissing his face more, hand coming to his neck. 
“m’ready,” she whispers earnestly “wanna feel you so bad,” another kiss, “please, carm.”
he lets out a strained breath and removes his hand from her ass, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his erection. she moves her thigh higher up his hip, and carmen slips his fingers beneath the fabric covering her core, hastily pulling it to the side.
“yeah,” she exhales desperately, edge of her lips touching his, trying to watch him press his cock into her opening. 
carmen pushes forward, sinking into her tightness. he lets out a groan at the way her wet heat engulfs him. the girl releases a sound of appreciation, her nails indenting the skin of his shoulder. 
he takes a deep breath and begins slowly rocking his hips, turning his face to catch her lips in a hungry kiss. he greedily swallows her sweet noises, catching the edge of her shirt and bunching it up over her chest, exposing her breasts.
“please,” she breaks the kiss to plead, not really even knowing what she was asking for. 
“i know, baby” he groans in between kisses, “gonna take care of you.” rolling his hips, hiking her leg further up his hip to bury himself to the hilt. 
she wants to cry at how good it feels, eyes scrunched shut and mouth falling open in pleasure, releasing her first breathy moan. 
carmy swears he could cum at the sound of it, hand grabbing her ass again, pulling her impossibly closer. his forehead comes to hers and he begins slowly thrusting into her, completely drunk off of her. her smell, her wetness, her whimpers. 
“y’so fuckin’ cute,” he growls, “can’t get enough of you.” his admission sends a fluttering sensation throughout her chest, arching further into his touch, beginning to hungrily rock her hips to try and match his thrusts. 
the man grabs her hip, holding her still. 
“slow down,” he commands softly, catching her lips in a deep kiss, continuing to gently thrust into her. 
she complies, savoring the sweet, lazy rocking motion as he holds her tightly. it feels far more intimate than what she’s ever experienced with him, even though the two weren’t even fully naked. it was needy and frenetic, yet slow and gentle. 
carmen buries himself deeper, beginning to thrust up into her at an angle. he kisses her with frenzy, tongue swirling around hers, swallowing each and every noise she makes. the room grows incredibly hot, their skin sticky, each trying to apologize to the other using their bodies. 
carmy snaps his hips forward, and the girl releases from his lips with a loud cry. her nails dig into his shoulder. it’s so good she feels like crying again. 
“y’such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” he growls, “love how you feel, y’know that?” 
her droopy eyes meet his. she loves the way it sounds from his mouth. loves everything he does. 
“i’m all yours carm,” she gasps, savoring the deep, satiating feeling of his thick cock.
“yeah?” he asks breathily, “all mine?” grabbing her ass, pulling her in time with his thrusts. 
“y-yeah,” she cries, eyes tightly shut, “yours. i love-ah,” she’s interrupted by a punctuated thrust, losing her words, head falling back, breathing heavily. he feels so good.
“what d’you love?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss her exposed neck, “huh?” 
“love y-how you make me feel,” she cries. 
his chest flutters. he bites and kisses the skin of her neck. he wishes she would’ve said something different. 
“what else, hm?” a kiss, thrusts speeding up, “what else d’you love?” 
“love-fuck, right there,” she whimpers, “i love-ah,” trailing off as if she can’t even think straight. 
carmy smiles into her neck, giving her skin a final bruise before pulling away to catch her lips. 
“tell me,” he growls, grabbing the side of her thigh and continuing to upwards. 
her eyes fill with tears. she’s scared to say it. 
“i-,” an gasp, “i love you, carm.” she catches his gaze as she says it, and watches how his expression softens. how deeply he looks at her. the man dives into her lips again, kissing her with a ferocity she had yet to ever receive, groaning into her mouth. 
“fuckin’ made for me,” he growls in between kisses, “love everything about you,” pulling her leg further up, “perfect fuckin’ girl.”
he rolls over her and lifts her hips up, continuing to thrust into her. 
the girl wraps her legs around his back accommodatingly, dizzy from his words and the pleasure. she slips her fingers down to circle her swollen clit, feeling as if she teters right on the edge of climax, overcome with a white hot pleasure. 
“love you,” she cries, nails scratching down his back, “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou m’gonna cum” she babbles. he smiles down at her, almost overwhelmed by a feral need to claim her. 
the man deliberates throwing caution to the wind and cumming inside of her. he knows she wouldn’t mind. he rationalizes the logistics of making her a mom in his frenetic state, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her wet eyes, her open mouth. he decides he’s in love with her. decides he wants her to be his forever. he watches her cum. watches her eyes roll back and her body start shaking. listens to the sweet harmonic moans that spill from her lips. 
“there y’go,” he coaxes, “such a good girl,” kissing her swollen lips, “fuckin’ in love with you,” heightening the pace of his thrusts, feeling himself approach the brink of orgasm. he seriously considers cumming inside of her, telling himself he would if she asked. he looks at the girl for confirmation, but she’s too far gone. he begrudgingly pulls out, shooting thick ropes of cum onto her stomach with a groan, missing her warmth as soon as he leaves. 
carmy rolls off of her, grabbing her face and pressing a firm kiss onto her cheek, collapsing on the bed for a moment. he feels spent.
the girl pants, trying to catch her breath. carmen nuzzles into her neck, wrapping around her tightly, kissing her tenderly. they bask in the afterglow, cherishing the presence of each other, an encompassing silence following the heavy words exchanged.
she’s the first to speak. well, complain. 
“there’s….cum all over my stomach.” she rasps. he smiles into her neck. 
“shower?”
quiet, for a moment. 
“i can’t move.” 
he kisses her bruised skin with a lazy smirk and sits up to grab her a washcloth. 
-
when the girl wakes up alone the next morning, her heart drops a bit, finding the bed next to her empty once again. she shuts her eyes immediately, hoping to be swept away by sleep so she could postpone the disappointment. 
that is, until she hears noises from the kitchen downstairs. and smells the bacon. 
the girl groggily pushes herself up out of bed, stalking down the hallway. she gets halfway to the stairs before realizing she’s completely naked, stopping in her tracks, turning to carmy’s open door, eyes falling on a t-shirt on the ground. she quickly grabs it and slips it over her head, then continues to curiously make her way downstairs. soft music comes from the speaker in the kitchen, and she slowly descends the stairs to find carmy deftly working over the stove. the whole house smells incredible. 
she slips behind him to get to the coffee pot, sliding her hand along his back as she passes. 
the man turns his head.
“hey,”  he watches as she retrieves a mug from the cabinet, graciously taking in the sight of her wearing his shirt. 
“good morning,” she smiles, “smells so good in here.” 
as she stretches to get the mug, the hem of the shirt lifts ever so slightly over the curve of her ass. he clears his throat.
“nice shirt,” carmy says, turning back to tend to the bacon. 
she lets out a soft giggle, pouring her coffee. 
“yeah?” taking a sip and leaning against the counter, “figured it would be better than coming down naked.”
his brain stutters for a moment. he turns to catch the smirk on her face. 
“i, uh…. i dunno about that,” he responds, small smile on his face. she shoves his arm playfully and he breaks into a grin. 
“no work this morning?” she asks, grateful for the unusual saturday morning presence. 
“no, i, uh…m’taking a personal day,” he replies, turning the heat of the stove off, “had some stuff i needed to get done.”
“good,” she replies with a nod, “you deserve a day off. i didn’t take you for much of a breakfast guy, though” she comments, tilting her head slightly. 
“i’m not, really,” he plates the bacon over a paper towel, “but i, uh…thought some all american might help with your hangover.” 
she feels a pang in her chest, eyes glancing over the assortment of pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and bacon. everything she had told him last night. 
“carm,” she whines, “that is so kind. you didn’t have to all of this for me.”
the food looked delectable, plated beautifully and piping hot. 
“i wanted to.” he begins to pick up the plates. 
she puts her coffee down and helps him set the table.
when she takes the first bite of her bacon and eggs she practically moans at the taste. 
“fuck,” she locks eyes with him. 
“yeah?” he watches her with amusement.
“yeah,” she breathes, nodding, “that’s…wow.” 
he can’t help but grin, hand coming to rub over his face. 
“good?” 
“yeah.” she nods, “really fucking good.”
he feels his skin heat at the way she says it, having no idea why watching her enjoy his food was so deeply satisfying (and maybe just a little arousing).
“try the pancakes,” he tells her, pushing the syrup closer to her. she nods enthusiastically, slathering the pancakes the maple syrup and taking a big bite. 
the girl groans, and her head falls into her hand, savoring the taste. she doesn’t think she’s ever had pancakes so good. 
“i could kiss you right now,” she looks back up at him. he lets out a breath of amusement and his cheeks warm with her praise.
“i’m glad you like it.” 
“no, seriously, i’m…going to kiss you.” she tells him, putting a hand on the table and leaning over it. she grabs his shirt and pulls him in, kissing him firmly. 
the man lets out a soft groan of surprise, enthusiastically reciprocating. she tastes like maple syrup. 
when the girl pulls back, he grabs her face and pulls her back in, wanting another sweet taste. it’s better than any pancakes he’s ever made. 
carmen loosens his grip on her face and she slowly pulls away, pressing a last kiss to his lips before sitting back down. she gives him a mischievous smile and continues eating her breakfast.  
-
“go sit down,” she tells him, taking the pan from him, “you already cooked, let me clean up.”
“we can do it together,” he compromises, “it’ll be faster.”
she shakes her head, making a pile of dishes in the sink and turning on the hot water.  
“no. go sit down and relax,” she demands, beginning to scrub. 
she feels arms wrap around her waist, feels lips on her neck. 
“so bossy,” he chides in between kisses, pressing his hips against her backside. she lets out a slow breath, leaning into his touch. her eyes flutter as she feels his hand creep under her shirt, splaying over her stomach. she’s not wearing anything besides his oversized shirt, and her skin suddenly feels hot from his touch. she arches into him slightly, and he bites her neck.  
it feels very domestic, fighting over who would clean up the kitchen. it feels domestic wearing his shirt and being pressed up against the counter by him, skin littered with his bruises, lips intertwined with his name. 
carmy begins to lift the borrowed shirt up, kisses trailing up to her ear, hand coming to squeeze her breast. 
the girl releases a soft noise, completely distracted by her task of washing dishes. her head falls back against his shoulder, and she leans into his touch. 
carmen thinks of telling her to strip the shirt off. thinks of hoisting her up onto the counter and eating her out until she cums. touching her until she cries.
he pushes the shirt up further. 
knock knock knock 
they both startle and look to the front door. carmen checks the time, and his heart drops a bit. 
he pulls away from the girl and runs a hand through his curls.
“who is it?” she asks him, observing his look of stress. 
“it’s, uh….fuck. just wait right here, okay?” his hands fall from his hips and he stalks to the closet by the front door, pulling out a scarf she doesn’t recognize. 
he opens the door halfway, and she hears a familiar woman’s voice greeting him. 
her face gets hot. her chest feels tight. 
“claire,” he greets quietly, thrusting the scarf forward, “here.”
“ugh, thank you, carmy. i’m so forgetful sometimes.” 
“no problem. i should, uh-”
“it smells good in there,” claire comments, peaking in. 
carmen steps back, eyes darting over to his roommate. she stands with her arms crossed, leaning against the counter, staring at him.
“i’m uh…cooking breakfast,” he turns back to claire, “so i should probably get back to that. i’ll see yo-”
“-i was thinking we could talk?” she cuts him off, “can i come in?”
“i don’t know if that’s…,” carmen hesitates. he glances to his roommate to find her walking behind him towards the stairs.
claire’s eyes follow the girl, taking in her attire. carmy watches her expression slightly falter. 
his roommate stalks up the stairs. was walking behind him in plain sight a little petty? maybe. but she’s sick of carmy never saying exactly what he means. she undoes the hair tie holding together her messy updo, walking to her room. 
she quickly grabs a change of clothes and rushes into to the bathroom to shower, feeling the overwhelming need to leave the apartment. 
the front door slams shut, and she hears his steps ascend the stairs.
449 notes · View notes
onelittlespiral · 7 months ago
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I’ve been looking for a fraternity to join at my new college, but none of them have really been letting me in. The only one left seems to be full of horny jocks that are dumber than a bag of bricks. Think you could help me… fit in?
FML: In
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As you laid it all out in front of your friend, your plans, your goals, your desires, he just kind of shook his head in disbelief:
“I know that I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but damn that’s disappointing.”
“What’s so wrong about wanting to pledge?” you replied, “It would just make getting connected the university so much easier. Plus, the parties are legendary.”
“No I get it,” he scowled, “but really? Pi Kappa Epsilon?”
“Listen, they weren’t my first choice either. I would have preferred a group a little less… dim.” I knew he wouldn’t leave it there.
“Dim? Dim still implies some light on upstairs. You can just call them what they are: brainless frat bros. They think with their dicks and muscle their way through academics. I can’t believe you’re asking me to use my power for this.” He began walking towards the door.
I called after, “Look, I’ve seen you do crazier shit than this. You turned the guy upstairs into a dog for a week.”
He stopped in the door frame for a minute to chuckle, “If he was going to call the RA a bitch he may as well get first hand experience.”
“Please dude.” I stared at him.
After a moment he relented, “Fine. But are you sure you want this? You want to change for this? A frat?”
“Yes. And I promise I’ll get you into any party you want!”
“Fine. Give me a bit. But remember, you asked for it.”
He returned in a bit and tossed me a necklace from across the room, “Here’s your frat solution. Wear this to your next thing with them at their house.”
You inspected it. It looked like a basic chain necklace like you had seen other guys wear around “And do what? What does it do?”
He rolled his eyes, “And do nothing. It will help you fit into the frat, I promise.”
“No magic words or anything?” I asked.
He grinned, “Oh come on, think of me as better than needing all that crap. Now put it on so you don’t lose it.”
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It fits well around your neck, “I’m headed over there tonight, I think it is the last event before they drop everyone. You sure this will work?”
“Trust me,” he says, “You want in the frat? You will be in the frat.”
When you arrive at the frat house, you do feel the necklace almost pulling you inside. It feels warm against your chest as you wander around, talking with some brothers and checking in with your fellow pledges. You get a sense of magnetism from it, like the necklace is pulling the frat house around it towards you. As the party kicks into gear, you focus less on the chain and more on socializing. But whatever it’s effect, it seems to be working. Brothers and other pledges are seeming to stumble over themselves trying to talk with you. Even the pledge master gives a knowing glance and tilts his head in approval. In a little under two hours, you begin to feel more at home in the house, more comfortable in the crowd. Maybe for the first time you feel a sense of brotherhood. So it is a shock when you step into the bathroom to take a piss and take a look in the mirror.
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You don’t recognize the face that stared back. You blinked in confusion, assuming you had too much to drink. But no. The stranger in the mirror stared back into your eyes, copying your every move as you tilted your head and inspected your face in awe. The trance broke as you glanced down and saw the truth. Your polo shirt stretched against your chest as two pectorals firmly pushed out, flexing with each breath. Your pants had grown tight around my quads, now a good few inches short. They hugged your ass so tightly you were surprised they hadn’t ripped. Tattoos flowed down your arms, newly ripped and well toned. You noticed for the first time the power you felt coursing through your veins. You could almost feel your skin taut against your muscles as they slowly swelled. You pulled your top off to get a better look at the action.
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‘Damn I look good’ you think as you admire the new cum gutters and still developing 6-pack. You try out a few poses in the mirror, just to see the muscles move. The necklace is no joke. No way PKE would drop you now, you looked like you fit right in. But, at the same time, you figured it may be time to get the necklace off. You didn’t want to change too much, and no telling how far it would go. You go for the back of your neck and and start to fiddle with the clasp when the necklace suddenly starts to warm up.
You feel the odd magnetism is no longer subtle. It feels as though the necklace is pulling against the frat house you, drawing it’s very essence towards you. At the same time, the growth within your body stops as the necklace channels all its energy towards your head. The sudden spike hits like a migraine, as you let go of the necklace and go to hold your temples. The necklace wants to finish its work. Your senses are sharpened to a point, as you feel the heat of the bros downstairs, taste cheap beer and seltzers, hear every footstep, see every muscle and bulge, and smell 100 horny men all at once. You feel the pure energy of the fraternity pull through your body as it shapes you. Beneath the pressure, your mind buckles as false memories push their way in. Memories of watching college football on TV. Working out during the summer to become a fucking stud. Playing the field as soon as you got to college. Meeting up with some brothers to get a foot in the door. Getting called a fuckboi for the first time on Tinder. Wearing it like a badge of pride.
Your brain throbbed as the energy reshaped your memories and personality, but your balls churned as it began to adjust your libido. They ached as they swelled to the size of golf balls. Your cock was rigid at attention as you grabbed it with both meaty hands and started to pump. Your body writhed as every stroke only makes the pleasure more intense. You are soon hot with the effort. An aura of testosterone and sweat formed around you as a frat funk sets in deep: a mixture of booze, yesterday’s workout, and cheap cologne. The smell only drives you more wild, and you start to feel your brain short circuit. Your mind, consumed by pleasure, gave into the pressure and lost any remaining will to resist. The necklace pulsed in time with your throbbing cock as it buried the old you. As you reached climax, you knew there was no going back. As you shot your load across the room, a new you was released. A dumb, horny frat bro ready to pledge PKE.
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And then the door behind you opened.
The pledge master, apparently worried by how long you had been in here, walked in on your afterglow as you tucked your cock back into your pants.
“Hey man, you okay?” he asked before recoiling a step. You watched as he smelled your rank funk and nearly gagged. You took a step closer.
“Yeah bro, better than ever. What about you? You look like you’re about to vomit.” you said, leaning in a bit closer. You flex your muscles and let your pit stench join the lingering cloud. You feel yourself start to harden again as he tried not to react.
“Bro, you are fucking rank. You smell like a… like a-”
“Like a frat house should?” you taunted. He had stopped recoiling and seemed now to be fighting a different urge.
“I don’t know bro, you should get- get that looked at.”
His eyes were focused on your muscles as you slowly flexed them rhythmically to the music downstairs. I felt the necklace pulling him closer as he fought the urges he is having. Fuck, you remembered that feeling, that pull towards desire. You knew how to help him out though. You grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips to your pecs. As his lips connected with your flesh and tasted the beads of sweat that rolled down your chest, he wrapped his arms around you and began worshiping your muscles. As he kissed and licked every inch of your chest and washboard abs, he gently rubbed against your rigid cock. It wasn’t long before he was licking at the fabric separating his mouth from his prize. But as he reached for the elastic band around your waist, you grabbed his hair and pulled him up.
Your mind reveled in in the power you held in your hands and the pleasure your new frat bro could cause with his mouth. But you only had one thing left on you mind:
“I wanna be in the frat bro.” You said.
He mumbled as his mouth still searched for your flesh, “Yeah man, sure thing. I’ll make it happen. You can be a frat bro. Just please let me suck on your-“
“No,” you boomed. You pulled him out of the bathroom and into the nearest bedroom, locking the door behind you. You grabbed his ass as he grew limp in your hands, “I want to be in the frat bro.” You slip your hand beneath his gym shorts and begin slowly finger fucking his tight, straight hole.
He understood his place as he slipped off his shorts and underwear, leaving his cheeks on full display.
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He moaned like he was in heat, “Yeah bro. Please. I would be so honored.”
You bent him over and spat in his quivering hole before you pressed your cock against him. You didn’t wait for him to relax as you slammed your cock as deep as you could and watched him yelp in surprise. As you slowly sped up and heard him start to moan, you felt the necklace once again start to warm against my chest as its power flowed through your cock and into the bro beneath you. He too began to sweat with the funk of the frat as was remade in its image under your guidance. He was going to become just as unified with PKE as you were.
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pipwritesoccasionally · 3 months ago
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midnight emotions (two little lines pt. 2)
in which your stepson has a bad dream and you feel guilty.
this one has less to do with your pregnancy but it is still relevant!
toji x reader (same stuff from last time applies, technically AFAB because of pregnancy but it's also a world with sorcery so I am not here to stop AMAB people. kept it pretty gender neutral, but let me know if it doesn't seem like it.)
wc: 850
pt. 1 pt.3
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the darkness floods your eyes as you blink awake for the second time that night. body aching, you roll over, feet fluffing the carpet of you and toji’s bedroom. your arms reach up, exposing your growing stomach to the cold air. 
as you stand, the bed creaks, and you hear your husband groan. 
“doll?” his voice is low from sleep, and you place your hand on his arm. 
“i’m good. i just have to pee.” 
“again? you went two hours ago,” you’d never think that toji could be so whiny, but it sure was a very cute surprise. 
“babe, a whole human is growing next to my bladder. i’m going to be peeing all the time for the next few months,” you chuckle, and you hear him roll over on the bed. 
“fine. see you soon.” 
with that, you begin your walk to the bathroom, able to navigate the dark hallways perfectly after following this routine for weeks. after doing your business, you walk back down the hall, but this time you find that it’s much easier. 
in fact, there’s a light on in one of the bedrooms, which you quickly discern to be megumi’s. you knock, hearing a little “come in” on the other side. 
“megumi? what are you doing up?” you whisper, seeing him sitting up in bed. he furiously rubs his hands with his face, and the sight brings tears to your eyes. 
“i…had a bad dream.” he says, his little voice full of sadness. you move to kneel next to his bed, hoping to reassure him. 
“what happened? you can talk to me about it, if you want. or i can get your dad if you’d prefer.” he shakes his head, but still seems to hesitate. 
“dad’s not going to…leave us, will he?” worry strikes through you. 
“never. what would make you think that?”
“i don’t know, i guess i just wish we could see him more. he’s always pretty busy and only comes home for dinner.” another tear falls down his little face, and you can feel one mirror on your own. curse your hormones. 
“he’s busy, yes, but it’s because he’s trying to provide for you as best as he can. he just wants you to be happy,” megumi nods, but you can see that there’s still something on his mind. 
“it’s just that…when the baby comes, will he still have time for us?” your heart brakes at his statement, guilt shattering you. 
“of course he will. i promise you that he will always have time for you. he can be gruff, but he loves you.” 
“pinky promise?” he holds his little pinky out, and you immediately hook your much larger one around it. 
“pinky promise. now go back to bed. if you’re tired in the morning, let me know and i’ll call you out of school.” he nods, and you walk to the door, turning his light off. 
“sleep tight kiddo.” the door closes with a soft click!, and you immediately head back to your shared bedroom. your face feels wet, and you realize belatedly that you’d been crying. 
the bed is comforting, but you feel your breaths come out shakily. 
“doll? what’s wrong?” you jump, not realizing your husband’s still awake, and scoot in closer. 
“megumi’s worried that you won’t have time for him once the baby comes, and i feel so guilty. i didn’t even think about how this would affect them.” you’re hiccuping now, and his large hand comes to rest on your back. 
“you didn’t do anything wrong, i should be here more for them.” he whispers, and you shake your head. 
“no, you’re just doing what you can to help us.” he sighs, and you place your head on his chest. 
“yeah, but maybe it’s not enough. i’ll try to cut back on how many jobs i take weekly so i can be here more. we make more than enough money between the two of us anyways.” 
you hum, remembering exactly why you fell in love with him all those years ago. he isn’t exactly the most open person, but he does love his kids in his own way. 
“you need to stop being so cute. this isn’t good for my blood pressure,” he snorts, squeezing you lightly. 
“cute, huh? never thought someone would call me cute,” you laugh at him, wrapping your arms around his body. 
“why wouldn’t they? you just ooze cuteness, from your thick biceps and rippling abs-” 
“i’m starting to think you might be in love with me.” you can just hear the grin in his voice, and you move to roll away before one of his strong arms stops you. 
“ah-ah,” he tuts, “need my doll next to me so i can protect her.” 
“you sure you’re not the one in love with me?” his chest is firm as you run your fingers across it. 
“you wish,” he presses a kiss against your temple, and your body heats up. you huff, feigning annoyance, and his hand comes to cup your face. 
“fine. i might be in love with you. just a little bit."
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scarletemeraldpurple · 1 month ago
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Kinktober day 9: Lactation (posting this at 1 am on the 10th but ssshh)
Rio finds you on the brink of death, but it isn’t your time yet. She takes it upon herself to nurse you back to health.
CW: Reader suffers from homophobic violence, the consent is a bit dubious
Other notes: Very gentle Rio, lots of pet names, lactation with healing properties (and aphrodisiac properties), reader becomes Rio’s pet
“Well well, what have I found this time?” Rio mused to herself as she saw you on the ground, curled up, almost unconscious.
Death. You thought to yourself. Death has come to take me. It’s just as well.
“Let’s find out what your story is, hm?” Rio said, lightly massaging your temple.
What she found horrified her. You were dragged out here by a group of men. They beat you half to death, in theory it was because you were suspected of being a witch, in reality it was because one of them suspected you of trying to seduce his girlfriend.
“They don’t even truly know of the power you hold,” Rio said quietly, “it’s not your time to go yet, little one.”
That was the last thing you heard before blackness took over your vision.
You woke up in a cave, on a mat of woven vines.
“Sorry, I don’t have guests often and I don’t really sleep, this was the best I could do on short notice.” The strange witch who saved you said.
You tried to get up, you were unsuccessful, wincing at pain coming from your abdomen.
“Easy there sweetheart.” She sat beside you on the mat as you laid back down.
“I thought you were Death, coming to collect me.”
“Well in a sense I did, just not in the way you expected. But you can call me Rio.”
“Rio?”
“Rio Vidal, at first it was just a pseudonym, but I’ve gotten a bit attached to it.”
“River of Life, so Death has a sense of humor.”
“Gotta have one in my line of work.”
You chuckled lightly, which caused you to wince again.
Rio reached a hand out, very cautiously, to brush some hair out of your face. “I can help you with that, sweet thing.”
“Yeah? Why do you want to help me?”
“Someone’s a bit mistrustful.”
“Can you blame me?”
“No I cannot. Look, here’s the deal. I have something I need help with, and you can help me with it.”
“What exactly does Death need help with?”
“You forget that at the end of the day, I am a green witch. And there’s a little side effect of that I need help with.”
You looked at her confused.
“What exactly do you know about witches?”
“Not a lot. Managed to find an old banned book about potions but that’s been about it.”
Rio nodded slowly. “Okay well…how should I break this down? I can help heal you, quickly in fact.”
“Okay. And in return I?”
“You help me get my breasts to stop aching.”
Your eyes widened.
“You drink from me, it heals you, I get rid of my milk from this cycle.”
You could not believe what you were hearing. She had to be joking right? Maybe Death’s sense of humor was more twisted than you thought.
Then Rio flung her top off, and you saw her nipples leak a bit. “Think you can get on your side or do I need to straddle you?”
“Does it have to be like, mouth to tit? Can I not use a cup or something?”
“You could if I had any.”
“Right, right, guess you don’t really need to do the ‘sustenance for survival thing’.”
“Look, sweetheart , you can spend possibly months healing, unable to sit up for weeks. Orrrrrr, you can put your mouth on my tits and both of our lives will be so much easier.”
You really did not mean to be staring at her chest, but they were big…full, and right in front of you.
“You’re not exactly being subtle, doll.” Rio said, bringing a hand to cup one of them. “C’mon, it won’t take that long, you don’t even need to drink all of it to heal. And I’ll still get some relief.”
Fuck it. You thought to yourself. “Okay. Y’know making a deal with Death was not really on my agenda for today.”
Rio smiled. She slid next to you and gently coaxed you to your side. You cautiously wrapped your lips around her nipple. She stroked your hair encouragingly.
“There you go, just like that.” She let out a moan. “Oh you’re good at that baby.”
It really did work quick. You were already starting to feel better. You felt calmer too. You weren’t sure how to describe what it tasted like, but it was good, and you wanted to keep going.
“Mmm, feeling better baby?” Rio asked.
You were but you found yourself in a haze. It just felt so good to keep sucking. To keep drinking Her in.
“Mmm, I bet you are. You should be all healed up actually. But you can keep drinking that works for me. You’re awful cute like this.” She scratched at the back of your scalp and you moaned around her.
“Maybe I should keep you. Yeah, I think I’ll do that. You’d like taking care of me like this every month, wouldn’t you pet?” Rio mused as she petted you.
“Other side now if you wouldn’t mind. Not that you’d mind very much right now.” She chuckled.
You readjusted so that you were on top of her, now drinking as much as you could from her other tit.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had such an eager little mouth on me. You feel so good pet.” She reached an hand between her legs. “You’re being so good for me baby, just keep sucking.” She said as she started to rub her clit to the sight of you.
She had stopped leaking into your mouth so you detached and realized how worked up you had gotten…how worked up she had gotten.
“Kiss me, pet.”
You didn’t hesitate to obey. Her free hand wrapped around the back of your neck as she let you explore her mouth with your tongue. You moaned into her.
“Easily excited little thing aren’t you?” Rio whispered against your lips. “Fuck baby I’m so close, fuck, yeah keep looking at me like that.” She said as she grabbed your jaw, wanting those big doe eyes on her for as long as possible.
You felt her shake underneath you as she came. Eye contact broken as she screwed her eyes shut in pleasure. You stroked her hair, totally in awe.
Rio composed herself and brought her fingers to your lips.
In that moment you realized you never wanted to be done tasting her, every part of her.
“Such a good little pet. Already so well trained.” She teased. She adjusted you so that your legs were on either side of her thigh. “This is the last thing I want from you tonight okay? Can you cum for me, sweetheart?”
You nodded and started grinding against her. Every sensation seemed so intense tonight.
“I did forget to warn you about something my dear. See I can just heal people, but if someone is healthy, then drinking from me can act…as a bit of an aphrodisiac. Feeling a little fuzzy?”
You nodded and continued rocking your hips against her.
“I could have stopped you I suppose. But you were just so cute. And I bet if felt really good didn’t it?”
You nodded again, whimpering.
“And I bet this feels amazing right?”
“Uh-huh” you moaned out.
“Oh did I make you lose your words? That’s okay. Pet’s don’t need words, they just need to hump or suck, or whatever else I tell them to do. And right now? I want you to cum.”
Your body complied with her demand. She took your hips and made sure you rode all the way through it. You collapsed on top of her.
“Big night huh sweet thing?”
“Mhm.”
“Get some sleep my dear. I’ll be right here.”
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squoxle · 1 month ago
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hey gurl!! noticed ur taking early kinktober recs so here’s mine
i see this with Jake cuz he’s my bias but u can do Heeseung or whoever I just want a fic with yns and her bf having a competition to see who could get the other off first like I saw this post on ig about going thru a car wash and i kinda want a fic like that
[8] QUICK FUCK ~ HeeJake
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boyfriend!jake + bestfriend!heeseung x girlfriend!reader
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plot: one freaky instagram post leads to timed car sex... | wc: 900 | cw: public sex, car sex, quick sex
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“You sure still wanna do this?” Jake asked as you sat next to him in the back seat.
“Yeah,” you nodded. “I think it’ll be fun.”
“I think so too, but what if we get caught?”
“Relax,” Heeseung interrupted. “You won’t…beside I’m the one driving. All you two have to worry about is not shaking the car too much,” he smirked, taking a quick glance a you and Jake through the rear view mirror.
You thought back to about a week ago when you stumbled upon a freaky couple’s post on Instagram.
“Fun couple idea: go through a car wash together and see who finishes first…loser has to pay😏”
Though you knew it was just a stupid post, something in you wanted to try it out…at least once. You shared the video with your boyfriend, Jake.
“Hot, but do you actually wanna do this?”
“Do I have to answer honestly?”
“Yes lol.”
“Awww whyyyy?”
“Because, babe. I’m curious.”
“Okay…I kinda do, but just a little…”
“I can try to set it up if you want.”
“Really?!”
“lol yeah, I’ll have one of my friends drive for us. Just in case we need a little more time.”
“That wouldn’t be awkward?”
“No, he’s chill.”
“Chill enough to let you quick fuck your girlfriend in the backseat of his car?”
“We’ll be in my car silly. I have leather seats…easy cleanup.”
“Hmmm…true. I just feel a little weird about doing it while someone else is there.”
“Babe trust me, you’ll be fine. It’ll be like he’s not even there.”
“Hmm…okay.”
“And if you change your mind we can just go do something else, okay. I won’t be upset or disappointed.”
“Okay,” you replied with a red heart emoji.
“So…d’you wanna do it?”
“Yeah,” you agreed.
From that moment the plan was in motion and all you had to do is wait for the day your boyfriend pulls up to your house with his best friend driving. A day that came sooner than you anticipated.
You heard the car horn beeping as your boyfriend texted you, “We’re here.” He had told you to get ready about an hour ago which gave you enough time to prepare yourself. You pulled the curtains back, looking out the window to see your boyfriend’s car parked out front.
You walked outside as Jake stepped out of the car to open the door to the back row of seats for you. "It'll be easier if we do it back here," he smiled shyly as you climbed into your seat. He closed the door before walking around to get on the other side next to you.
"This whole thing should last about 15 to 20 minutes," Heeseung said as you arrived at the automated car wash. "That should be enough time for at least one of you to get off," he smirked as he rolled in, shifting the car in neutral as he drove onto the conveyor belt.
“You sure still wanna do this?” Jake asked as you sat next to him in the back seat.
“Yeah,” you nodded. “I think it’ll be fun.”
“I think so too, but what if we get caught?”
“Relax,” Heeseung interrupted. “You won’t… besides I’m the one driving. All you two have to worry about is not shaking the car too much,” he smirked, taking a quick glance a you and Jake through the rearview mirror.
Darkness surrounded you before dim, bright, colorful lights took its place. Water and foam covered the car and a faint cherry scent filled the air.
You looked to your left as you saw Jake pulling his sweatpants down. Luckily you wore a dress for easy access. "C'mere," Jake said, directing you onto his lap. You spread your legs as he angled his dick with your entrance.
You groaned softly as you felt him push into you. Your arms were wrapped around the headpiece on the driver's seat. You gripped onto it as Jake pumped into you. You felt his fingers dig into your hips as you felt him coming close.
Not wanting to lose that early, you turn around to face him, giving you the opportunity to grind against him as you stimulate your clit.
He pulled your face in, kissing you as your hips continued to rock back and forth. You felt the vibrations from his gentle moans as his tongue wrapped with yours.
You leaned back to watch his dick go in and out of you. Something about watching his thick cock stretch you open turned you on more than you cared to admit.
Jake took this as an opportunity to press his thumbs into the lower part of your stomach. You groaned, feeling his dick inside of you even more now with the added pressure. Your chest heaved as his tip stimulated your g-spot.
You could tell that he was enjoying it too as he threw his head back before filling you with his cum.
"I win," he smiled cheekily before circling his thumb against your clit as he helped you finish.
From the looks of it, the car wash was almost complete.
You climbed off of your boyfriend, readjusting your clothes as you sat down next to him. "Well, I guess I'll pay," you smiled.
"Don't worry about it," Heeseung chuckled. "I already paid for it."
"Thanks," you smiled, sitting back to play with your boyfriend's cum as it seeped out of your pussy.
"We should do this again sometime," Jake sighed as he pulled his pants back up.
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𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉
❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
Sorry, this one was late…I fell asleep while working on it and then Tumblr glitched and deleted a bunch of stuff I wrote 😅
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@chlorinecake
@wonbinisbabygurl
@nishiimuranights
@wildflowermooon
@heeseungshim
@ramyeonzprincess
@bangchans-gf5
@wand3rlustm3
@heeseunghee7
@norihoyeon
@gacktsa
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cherriegyuu · 9 months ago
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midnight rain | lsm
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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.
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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 
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?"
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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"
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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.
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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.
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“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.”
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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
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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. 
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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
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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.
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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”
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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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papercorgiworld · 10 months ago
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The Death Eater Drabbles III
Can’t escape these feelings
Mattheo, Theo, Enzo, Draco and Blaise
As feelings become undeniable, so does the reality that forbidden love can never bloom
You don’t have to read part one and two, but it’ll make more sense if you do.
Warning: none? This just fluff and a bit of angst
A/N: I honestly don’t know if this is any good, I have a cold and not just a normal small cough cough cold, no I have one of those colds when walking feels like exercising and death is around the corner kind of cold. 🤧 But my two braincells really did their best.
Read part four here.
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You had found a magical enchantment that kept him tied up and let him free at the same time. He could roam around the house, but if he were to reach for you or try to escape a magical robe would tie his hands and feet together. The eye wouldn’t notice if it weren’t for the soft glinster you could see around his wrists when the sun fell right.
By now the both of you had been cooked up together in the small house for a little over a week and weirdly enough it went without too much trouble, aside from a few small arguments. However, there was something undeniable in the air.
Mattheo Riddle
“Matt, can you reach that little box on the top shelf?” Mattheo’s eyes scan all the way up to the little box. “No love, I’m no giant.” You chuckle. “I’ll go get my wand.” Before you can even take one step Mattheo is in front of you. “No, no, I’ll pick you up.” He says as his arms snake around you only to be immediately pulled back. Mattheo hisses in pain and you stare at the burn marks the magic left on his wrists. For the first time in a week you are both reminded that he is your prisoner. “Right, forgot about this. I’m not allowed to touch you, because I’m dangerous.” Silence fills the room as your mind and heart are at war.
“You’re not dangerous.” You say and reach for his wrists, partially lifting the spell, to slowly guide his hands towards your hips. Without any rope burning into his skin Mattheo wraps his arms around you and lifts you up. You place your hands on his shoulders for support only letting go to reach for the little box of herbs. When you return your gaze he’s still staring at you, while slowly lowering you. “It would’ve been easier to use magic.” You say with your feet back on the ground and Mattheo’s arms still around you. “This feels like magic to me.” Mattheo blurs out and makes you smile as a blush forms on your cheeks. Realizing how cringy his statement was Mattheo awkwardly chuckles and lets go of you. “I think that is my cue to go to bed.”
Mattheo throws his shirt on the bed while he is still cursing himself for saying something so cheesy. She’s getting into my head! Making me feel at home here, like I could ever have that. But he wasn’t the only one confused about his feelings. It was all your conflicting feelings that led you to Mattheo’s room. “I meant what I said. I don’t think you’re dangerous. I’m not afraid of you.” Startled by your sudden presence and your words Mattheo stares at you. He wants to hold you in his arms so bad that it frightens him. “Maybe you should be afraid of me.” We can’t do this, princess, we can’t start caring in the middle of a war.
Theodore Nott
“That’s the second time you’ve ruined that potion.” You glare at Theodore, who’s standing next to you staring at your cauldron. “I don’t know what I keep doing wrong.” Theodore grins as you scan over the instructions again. “It’s the stirring movement. It’s very specific and you screw it up every time.” You frown. “There’s nothing wrong with how I stirr.” Theo smirks and reaches for your hand. “I’ll show you.” An Italian curse escapes Theo’s lips as his wrist starts burning and he immediately pulls his hand back. It was a painful reminder of reality and you avoided Theo’s eyes as you watched his hands. “I forgot, I can’t be trusted. I might murder you in your sleep.” Now you look up and you let yourself be swallowed by his eyes as you try to make sense of your feelings.
“I do trust you.” You say and trace his wrists with your finger, lifting the spell just enough for him to touch you. Theodore watches your movements with soft eyes. “Show me.” You say and Theo nods as he shuffles closer to you to wrap his hand around yours. Immediately his warmth captivates you and your body sinks into his. Theodore struggles to focus and even screws up the first time moving your hand all wrong. “No, sorry, it’s like this.” The second time he carefully moves your hand exactly how you should stirr the potion. Theodore lets go of your hand and you’re both relieved when there’s finally some distance between you two.
“Thank you.” You almost whisper, while your face is still flushed from Theo’s warmth. “You’ll get it right this time.” Theodore says and walks past you, avoiding eye contact. “Theodore, I meant what I said. I do trust you.” Your words make Theodore turn around. “You shouldn’t.” Is all Theo says before leaving for his room. He needed to be miles away from you. You have no idea how much I feel for you that I’m not allowed to feel.
Enzo Berkshire
“Enz, can you get me a little bandaid? I’m bleeding all over the kitchen.” Enzo came rushing towards you as soon as he heard that you were bleeding. “What happened?-oh.” He relaxes when he sees you’ve cut your finger. “It’s just a small cut but I can’t get it to stop bleeding.” Enzo nods and goes through the drawers in search of a bandaid. “You should really leave the cooking to me for your own safety.” You chuckle. “You’re probably right.” Enzo walks towards you with the intention of wrapping the bandaid around your finger, but as soon as he gets too close he pulls back and a soft cry of pain leaves his lips. Enzo looks down at the floor as he’s reminded that in reality you’re miles apart. “Sorry, (y/n), I can’t help you because I’m your enemy, remember.” Your heart breaks at the idea of Enzo and you actually being enemies.
You instantly forget about the little cut and reach for his hands, altering the spell so he’s no longer considered a threat to you. “You and I are not enemies, Enzo.” He watches your hands in his and squeezes them softly, before spotting your bleeding finger. “Good, now I can help you.” Enzo lets go of your hand, but holds onto the one with the bleeding finger. Carefully he wraps your finger and leaves a soft peck on it. “All done.” You smile your brightest smile at his sweet gesture. “I meant it. You and I’ll never be enemies, Enzo. I won’t let it happen.” Enzo stares at you for what feels like an eternity. “I fear that we don’t get to decide that.” Because if it truly was up to me, I would have you in my arms.
Draco Malfoy
You were so engrossed in your book that you refused to get up and get a blanket for the cold. “You are such a bizarre creature.” Draco mutters as he now feels obliged to get up. You curiously watch him walk up to you with a soft blanket. You can’t help the cheeky smile on your face and Draco rolls his eyes, hating it when you get all cute and glowy about his acts of kindness. A sudden and loud yell from Draco pulls you out of your bubble. “Damn these!” Draco snares as he looks at his wrists. You immediately reach for his hands and gently caress the burning skin. “I keep forgetting about these things and the fact that in your eyes I’m a villain.”
You sigh as you are also reminded of the ongoing war that often seems so far away. You partially release the spell. “I know better than that. I don’t think you’re the bad guy. I get that things are complicated.” Draco softens at your words and for a moment as he wraps the blanket around you there is even a hint of a smile on his lips. For a blissful second all is fine in the world. “Yeah, but maybe it’s better if you continue to think of me as the villain in order to not make matters more complicated.” Draco makes sure the blanket is tightly around your body before getting up. You refuse to leave it at that and turn your head to where he was headed. “I think it’s too late for that, I could never simply see you as a bad guy, I know you are more.” Draco stops for a moment and wants to turn around, back to you, but decides against it and returns to his room. Trust me (y/n), if you truly knew me you wouldn’t be able to look at me, leave alone love me.
Blaise Zabini
A lot of noise and a yelp from you had Blaise running through the hallway to find you sitting at the bottom of the staircase. “I fell.” You state the obvious and Blaise can’t help but smile as he crouches down next to you. “Are you hurt?” You shake your head. “No, maybe a few bruises, but nothing is broken.” “Okay, then let's get you up, clumsy.” Blaise’s arm snakes around you, but is immediately pulled back. The burning on his wrist makes Blaise grit his teeth. “For a moment there I thought we were back at Hogwarts, you know, before I became the evil death eater that wants to hurt you.” You frown and reach arms, sliding down your hands until they’re wrapped around his wrists.
“I know you would never hurt me. I know you.” You squeeze Blaise’s hands and he looks into your eyes, finding comfort in their sincerity. He nods and this time successfully snakes his arm around you. “Let’s get you up to your feet.” You stumble a bit and he holds you close, enjoying your warmth. You rest your hand on his shoulder for support. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head or something?” You let out a laugh and shake your head. “No need to worry, I’m fine.” A genuine smile appears on Blaise’s face and you enjoy the soft moment between you two.
When he lets go of you the hallway suddenly feels cold and empty. “I know that becoming a death eater wasn’t your choice.” You attempt to return the light you just felt in the room, but Blaise doesn’t join you in your effort. “Choice or not. I am one. And we shouldn’t forget that.” You and I can never happen.
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himbofan · 5 months ago
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bungo stray dogs - meet cutes
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hey guyzzz soooo here's my one piece of writing for the next 10 months 😛🩷
jk but fr it's hard for me to write anything consistently so thank you for bearing with me!!!! :3
i always appreciate all forms of support!! I’ve been having bsd brainworms for a couple months now so expect more ramblings at some point ok thx for reading BYEEEEEEEE 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
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cw: gn reader, mention of cigarettes, reader has a cat, light stalking
characters: nakahara chuuya, fukuzawa yukichi, oda sakunosuke wc: 2600+
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you’re the cute cashier who works the graveyard shift at my local convenience store and i'm always awake at odd hours - nakahara chuuya
Chuuya stifled a yawn and wearily checked his phone. The numbers [3:27 AM] glared back at him with an irritating brightness, almost mocking him for staying up so late. He sighed and pocketed his phone, glancing up at the sky which was still a deep indigo, the stars barely visible from the copious amounts of light pollution. 
He grumbled something illegible under his breath and pushed open the door to the nearest convenience store. The door jingled lightly, the smell of nondescript floor cleaner invading his nostrils as he stepped into the cramped space. 
“Welcome…” you called out wearily from the register, though you couldn’t see who just walked in due to the height of the shelves blocking your view. 
He barely acknowledged your existence at the opposite side of the store, instead choosing to browse the shelves.
He eventually made his way to the register, dropping a bottle of water on the counter before finally looking up at you. 
“And I’ll take a pack of Marlboro Golds.”
You glanced at him quickly while scanning the water and box of cigarettes, trying to take in as much of his appearance as possible without looking creepy. 
You hadn’t seen him before since starting this job a week ago, and he certainly was a sight for sore eyes. 
His hair was a fiery orange that fell in slight waves over his shoulder, with piercing eyes that made your heart skip a beat. 
You silently punched in your employee discount as he pulled out his wallet. Though it was only 10% off, he looked like he’d been from hell and back, and you felt strangely empathetic towards this stranger, wanting to make his night a little easier in the only way you could without getting in trouble. 
You finished the transaction and handed him the receipt, finally mustering the courage to look at his face again. To your surprise, he was looking directly at you this time, his eyes narrowed as he studied you. 
You quickly averted your gaze and hastily bowed, babbling out a customary “Thank you, come again”. 
As he left the building, he quickly scanned the receipt. His eyebrows raised a little as he saw the discount. Of course he would never need it with his cushy salary, but you had no way of knowing that. You simply saw him as a tired man who had a rough day, extending kindness the only way you knew how. The thought of a stranger showing him pity made his brow furrow, but he couldn’t deny how his heart squeezed when he remembered those kind eyes.
The next night, you were back behind the register, eyes glazing over while you stared aimlessly at the wall. The door jingled and you snapped to attention. 
“Welcome!”
Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the same handsome man from yesterday walk in. You fidgeted with your hair and nails trying to look more presentable under the unflattering fluorescent lights. 
He made his rounds and eventually came to the counter again, dropping his choices on the counter. 
Before you could open your mouth, he spoke. 
“Don’t do that again.” 
You gaped like a fish and internally panicked, mind racing trying to find where you had gone wrong.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean…”
“The discount. I don’t need it.”
“Oh my apologies, you just looked like you were having a rough day and I wanted to try and make it a little better…I didn’t mean to insult you…” you rambled. You couldn’t hide the embarrassment on your face, cheeks and ears heating up rapidly as you felt yourself pinned under his strong gaze. 
He sighed, “It’s fine, just don’t do it again. I don’t need your charity.” 
‘…or for you to get in trouble trying to help me.’
You wanted to curl up and die right there, but instead you scanned his items and stuffed them in a bag, staring down at the white countertop and praying for the minutes to go faster so you could go home and scream.
Noticing your discomfort, Chuuya sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He finished the transaction and muttered a small “thank you” before dropping a small piece of paper on the counter. He immediately whirled around and headed out the door so you couldn’t see the slight blush tingeing his face and ears.
I’ll pay you back. Here’s my number.
 xxx-xxx-xxxx
You looked up in surprise but he was already out the door, the jingle of the doorbells signaling his departure. You smiled and blushed lightly, the fatigue from your long shift briefly alleviated as butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the thought of the handsome stranger. 
“Ah… I didn’t even get his name…”
you’re the owner of the cat i’ve been feeding because i thought it was a stray - fukuzawa yukichi
It was a relatively quiet day, the weather was nice and the streets were slightly less busy than usual. Fukuzawa closed his eyes and let the warm rays of sun seep into his tired skin, silently basking after a long day of being chained to his desk. 
His meditation was broken as a striped tail curled around his leg. Much to his delight, a friendly looking cat chirped and rubbed its face affectionately on his legs. His eyes softened as he reached down to let the cat sniff his hand, then softly pet its head. 
He swiftly took a small dried fish out of his sleeve and offered it, to which the cat excitedly accepted, purring up a storm as it crunched hungrily on the treat. His shoulders dropped slightly, stress and tension slowly melting away as he continued to admire the furry creature. 
The cat writhed on the ground, soaking up every ounce of attention from him as he continued to gently pet its fur. As if compelled by an unknown force, the cat suddenly shot its head up and glanced around, before running off into the bushes. Fukuzawa looked around for what could’ve possibly scared the cat away, but saw nothing. Slightly disappointed, he stood and returned to the office.
The next couple of days it came back as friendly as ever, and with an even more ravenous appetite for treats. Of course Fukuzawa was happy to oblige, showering the cat with affection and treats every time. 
“You have quite an appetite for such a small cat, don’t eat too many treats now.” he murmured, his stoic face unchanging yet there was a glimmer of admiration in his eyes.
“There you are! You greedy little shit!!”
His respite was broken as an angry voice yelled out from across the courtyard. The cat seemed to instantly recognize the voice and immediately ducked behind Fukuzawa’s legs. 
You jogged up to him, slightly out of breath, and looked up at the man who your cat was using as a shield. He had a commanding presence, with sharp blue eyes and silvery wolf cut. Your eyes locked for a split second and your heart jumped, this dignified-looking man was certainly easy on the eyes to say the least. Clearing your throat and brushing stray hairs out of your face, you awkwardly waved. 
“Hi, that cat belongs to me. I’m sorry if she caused you any trouble.” 
You smiled at him but glared daggers at your cat, who simply looked back at you. Though somehow, you could feel a smug aura radiating from it.
He looked down at the cat then back to you with a very slightly amused expression.
“No, she wasn’t bothering me. She’s quite sweet.” 
His voice rolled out deep and smooth, matching his serious appearance. He extended his hand down and your cat happily rubbed her face on it, purring up a storm.
“She really likes people, but that’s because she really, really likes food.”
You sighed and squatted down to attempt to grab your cat, but she ducked further behind the fold of the man’s yukata. You frowned and huffed but didn’t move any further, lest you’d be kneeling between this stranger’s legs. Fukuzawa noticed your discomfort and scooped up the cat in his arms, handing her off to you. You gratefully lifted your cat, accidentally brushing his large hand in the process which sent a small jolt of adrenaline through your body. 
“She’s not supposed to be outside but somehow she always manages to slip out. I feed her regularly but it doesn’t matter, she’s insatiable.”
Knowing the jig was up, your cat meowed in protest and squirmed in your arms.
“I mean how am I supposed to feel when my cat is going up to strangers and begging like she’s starving? She’s making me look like a neglectful owner to the whole damn city!”
You continued to ramble, before realizing you were venting your frustrations on this poor random man. 
He looked at you, a slight twinkle of amusement in his eyes. 
“She looks healthy and happy, it’s obvious someone loves her very much.” 
You felt your face heat up as he reassured you, wholly unprepared for the praise from this stern-looking yet attractive older man. 
“Ah… well thank you very much for taking care of my cat.” You bowed politely. “Please let me pay you back somehow.”
He shook his head gently and tucked his arms in his sleeves. “No need, it was no trouble at all.”
“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t help you out in return, I insist.”
You rummaged hastily through your bag and retrieved a pen and a crumpled receipt, scribbling down your number and name before handing it to him. 
You were telling half of the truth; you really did want to pay him back, but you also wanted an excuse to see this hot man again.
“Ugh, I have to go, but please don’t hesitate to reach out. Again, thank you so much for taking care of her.” You bowed one more time before speed-walking down the street, indignant meows fading as you turned the corner.
Fukuzawa looked at the small piece of paper in his hand, tucking it in his sleeve as the faintest of smiles graced his face for a second. 
‘...cute…’
you ask me for help to pretend to be your boyfriend to scare off a creep - oda sakunosuke
You glance over your shoulder warily while pulling your jacket tighter over your midsection, walking faster down the street. To your demise, the shady looking man that started following you a few blocks ago continued to tail you despite taking several twists and turns to try and throw him off. Cursing under your breath, you opened the door to the nearest establishment and quickly ducked in hoping to find a place you could stake it out until he left.
You’d never been to this bar before despite passing it multiple times on your way home, but it was much nicer than expected. The narrow stairs opened up into a cozy bar, moody lighting glinting off of the polished wooden stools. The only patron was a rather tall man with reddish hair, sitting quietly sipping on his drink. 
Although he was a complete stranger, you felt as if this man was trustworthy. He exuded an aura of peace and safety that you desperately needed at this moment. 
Sheepishly you sat down next to him. He looked down at you curiously, about to ask why you chose to sit next to him when the whole bar was available, when the door opened again and the man who had been following you stumbled in. Your heart dropped and you turned to the stranger next to you, whispering rapidly with a pleading expression. 
“Hey so there’s a creepy guy following me, could you pretend to be my boyfriend? I’ll buy you a drink as thanks.”
Before he could respond, you faked a hearty laugh as though you just told a hilarious joke and put your hand on his arm flirtatiously, hoping that the creepy man was watching. 
Your heart was thundering in your chest, but you continued to smile and look at your fake boyfriend. Getting a better look at his face, you noticed that he was actually quite good looking. He had a slight amount of stubble on his jaw, but the rest of him was well groomed. His eyes were a gorgeous crystal-clear sapphire blue that gazed down at you stoically. You were close enough to smell his light cologne, it was just enough to be noticeable but not overbearing. Your fingertips felt searing where they touched his arm, and you prayed he couldn’t tell how hard your heart was beating. 
He glanced up at the man brooding in the corner, silently sizing him up with a stony face.
Even though he hadn’t spoken a word, his sheer size and intense stare sent a strong enough warning that the other man froze under his gaze. 
Your stalker stared at the two of you and muttered something under his breath, before heading back up the stairs and exiting the bar. 
Once you were sure the door had closed behind him, you breathed a sigh of relief and removed your hand from his arm. “Hey sorry for putting you on the spot like that, I really appreciate it, let me get you a drink.”
“It’s nothing, I don’t mind.” His voice was deep and rumbled like a thunderstorm, and it was very attractive.
“No please, I insist. Ah, I suppose I should introduce myself.” You bashfully offered your name and bowed slightly. 
“Nice to meet you, I’m Oda. It’s getting pretty late anyways, I was going to head out. Do you need someone to walk you home?”
You smiled and nodded. “I would appreciate that, thank you so much.”
The walk home was a little awkward but not uncomfortable. Most of your attempts at small talk were met with brief responses that were followed by a long pause. You assumed he wasn’t much for conversation, but you detected no malice or annoyance in his voice. 
Eventually, you reached the end of your commute. Although you were relieved you made it home safely, you were a little disappointed that your impromptu date with this attractive stranger was coming to an end.
“Oh this is it, thank you so much again for helping me out…. oh right!” You dug out your phone from your bag, opened a new contact, and sheepishly handed it to him. 
“I know you said I didn’t have to pay you back but I really want to.” 
He took the phone and punched in his number along with the name ‘Oda’ before handing it back to you. 
“Thank you again! Have a good night!” You smiled brightly and waved at him from the entrance of your apartment complex, heart still pounding. 
He offered a simple wave in return, making sure you closed and locked the door before continuing on his way. He couldn’t ignore the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of your smile for the rest of the night. 
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dividers credit @/cafekitsune
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lon3rlife · 5 months ago
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“I promise you that you’re not alone”
Rick Sanchez x Reader
Rick comforts you during a major depressive episode
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I haven’t been doing very well for the past few weeks and writing these are one of my only sources of comfort rn tbh
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It’s been getting bad again and you knew it. It’s been a struggle to even get out of bed to walk a few feet to your kitchen, your room was in shambles, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to shower. You just get like this and you know eventually you’ll get out of it, but even though you know it will eventually pass you feel so stuck in despair you feel like continuing this downward spiral until you reach rock bottom. As you lay in your bed staring at the bare wall hoping for this to all go away you get a text from Rick.
You don’t even have the energy to reach over to grab your phone, but after a few minutes you finally reach over to see what it has to say.
“Hey. Are you doing okay? I’m coming over. Do you need anything?“
Rick knows how you feel. He really does. He understands how you feel and doesn’t think of you any less. He knows when things get hard to handle and how he can make things just a little easier for you.
You don’t even have time to reply when a green light appears in your room and Rick walks in with a sympathetic smile and gets next to you in bed without saying anything.
You turn to your side and he gently tucks a strand of your messed up hair behind your ear and softly kisses your forehead.
You guys lay together for a while, nothing needed to be said. Rick waited till you felt like talking about it.
“I’ve been doing so shitty. I’m sorry.” You whisper out
“There’s nothing to be sorry about you’re doing the best you can, and I know how hard it is. Trust me. I know it’s not easy to come out of this but I’ll help you. Small steps. Little by little it will get better I promise.” He says pulling you a little closer to him as you hold on his hand softly playing with his fingers.
“I can help you clean up, and get you something to eat. Anything you want, you call the shots.” He says
“Can we please just lay like this for a while I just need to be with you right now.” You say, softly nuzzling yourself to be as close to him as possible.
“Of course baby, anything you need I’ll be here I promise .” He whispers as you close your eyes embracing him until you finally get to sleep.
You wake up the next morning, still feeling stuck in an endless loop. You lift your head off your pillow and look around your room noticing it’s cleaner than it was last night. Granted there’s still some dirty clothes on your chair, but it feels a lot less claustrophobic.
You can smell coffee being made from the kitchen, and you reluctantly make your way out of bed to try to get some food in you.
“Good morning sweetheart.” Rick smiles, a genuine smile filled with nothing but love.
“I-uh made pancakes and coffee, I think it will be good to eat an actual breakfast.”
He sits with you at the table eating with you, the food definitely making your brain feel less foggy.
“Thank you for cleaning my room. You didn’t have to do that you know.” You sleepily smile
He doesn’t even respond, just smiles and takes another bite of his breakfast
The food and small caffeine boost truly helped your head feel a bit clearer. You can’t remember the last time you ate a proper meal, but eating breakfast with the person you loved most definitely boosted your mood. It was something so small but meant so much to you, Rick as well.
After sitting at the dining table for a while just talking and enjoying each others company you guys make your way over to your couch just to lay together, in a new spot other than your bed for a small change of scenery.
“I love you so much you’re so strong.” Rick says running his fingers through your hair as you lay on his chest.
You feel genuine love for him, the love you never would have imagined you would ever feel for someone. You know that you have issues, but he does to, and that’s what makes him so perfect for you. You both understand each other in such complex ways you wouldn’t trade for the world.
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daisyblog · 6 months ago
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Wine, Pizza and Never Have I Ever
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Unexpected Love Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN’s second date.
It had been two weeks since their first date. Harry had been busy in the studio and YN had been busy with Jacob and in the florist. But despite their busy lives, they had been texting back and forth every moment they could, and on some evenings talking over the phone. 
As Jacob was staying at his dad’s that evening, YN and Harry had arranged to see each other again. Due to Jacob being picked up at 6:30pm, YN asked if Harry was happy to have dinner at her place instead. 
The sound of the door knocking alerted YN that Jack was here. Opening the door, they smiled at eachother and YN invited Jack in. “Jacob…Daddy’s here!”. 
“What are your plans for the weekend? Zara mentioned you were thinking of taking the kids to the beach”. YN asked Jack as they waited for Jacob. Zara is Jack’s fiancée and they have a little boy, Theo who is nearly two. 
Jack shrugged his shoulders at the question. “We’re going to let Jakey decide in the morning”. He looked at YN with a suspicious grin. “You’re dressed nice for someone who likes to be in her pyjamas by seven”. 
“I fancied a change…is that okay?”. YN laughed knowing how right Jack was. Usually by now she would be in her unmatching pyjama with a messy bun. 
Jack continued to stare, until he cracked. “You’ve got a date, haven’t you?”. The big smile on his face was genuine. He’d waited a long time for YN to finally give in and give someone a chance. “Who is he? Do I know him?”.
“Shut up Jack!”. YN could feel the pinkness rush up her neck and land on her cheeks. “It’s just a second date”. 
“Second? Second date?”. He continued to question. “You owe me and Zara all the details…oh wait until I tell her!”. 
“It’s still early days, but I like him”. YN admitted as they still stood in the hallway. “Why are you smiling like that?”.
“‘Cause I’ve waited for this day forever and I want you to be happy”. Jack couldn’t hide his excitement. 
“Daddy!”. Jacob ran his little legs into his father who scooped him up into his arms. “Missed you”. 
“I’ve missed you too bud!”. He kissed his cheek in affection. “Give Mummy a kiss and cuddle and let’s go have fun”.
YN cuddled Jacob tightly as she already missed him before he had left. “I love you to the moon and back again”. 
“I love you too Mummy”. His sweet voice whispered into her shoulder. 
“Go and have fun with Daddy and give Zara and Theo a big cuddle from me okay?”. YN watched as Jacob held Jack’s hand, ready to leave for the weekend. 
“You have fun too yeah?”. Jack wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing YN to roll her eyes. “Remember we want to know all the details”. 
“I love you Jacob…goodbye Jack!” YN put emphasis on the last part as she chuckled to herself. 
---
Harry arrived just after 7pm and YN couldn’t  believe how someone managed to look so good in an outfit so effortless. 
“Hi.” YN greeted him and gestured for him to come in before closing the door behind him. 
“Hi”. Harry let out a shy giggle at the sight of seeing YN again. He leaned in gently gave her hug and a peck on the cheek. “You look beautiful”.
“Thank you”. YN blushed at both the peck and compliment. “Come through”. Harry followed YN through another door before they entered what he knew was the lounge area. “I hope you didn’t mind coming here tonight…I just thought it was easier with Jacob being pick-“. 
“YN” Harry interrupted with a smile. “It’s fine…I promise”. Harry took a seat next to her on the sofa. “Here I’ve got us a bottle of wine”. 
“Oh something old and red.” YN rose from her seat as she looked at the bottle. “I’ll go and get some glasses for us”. She walked to the kitchen. She felt like she needed to keep herself busy, to ease the nerves. 
“You know your wine”. Harry showed his dimples as he fidgeted in his seat. He watched as YN walked through to what he assumed was the kitchen. 
He looked around trying to learn more about YN, when he saw a photo on the sideboard he went for a closer look. Harry pointed YN out straight away as she smiled loudly for the camera. She held a little boy in her arms, who he naturally thought was Jacob. But he wondered who the other people in the photo were. 
“I’ve got two glasses and some nibbles for us” YN disturbed Harry’s as she placed the glasses and some bowls with snacks in on the coffee table in front of the sofa. 
“Uh sorry…I was being a bit nosey”. Harry got himself into a fluster, as he placed the photo frame back in its original place. 
YN shook her head as Harry sat back down next to her, taking a sip of his glass. “You can look, it’s fine”. YN took a sip from her own glass. 
“Is the little boy you’re holding, Jacob?”. Harry couldn’t help but ask, he knew it was because he could see they had the same eyes that crinkled when they smile. 
YN glanced over at the photo. “Yeah it’s Jacob”. She smiled at Harry. “The man and woman is actually Jacob’s Dad and his fiancée and their little boy, Theo”. 
YN tried to read Harry’s reaction, but for once she couldn’t.  “It’s a lovely photo”. He complimented. 
“I know it probably seems strange…me having the photo but-“. YN began to justify herself, feeling her throat close a bit with nerves. Her voice wobbled a bit has she began to defend herself. 
“Hey” Harry’s voice was gentle as he reached over and touched her hand. “It’s okay…you don’t need to explain yourself to me…my first thought was that’s how blended families should be”. 
“M’sorry…it’s just people have told me it’s strange that Jack and I still get on…and that me and Zara are friends”. YN explained as she looked down at Harry’s hand that was still on hers. 
“Do you want to know what I think?”. YN nodded. “I think you need to stop believing what other people think, and actually be proud of yourself for putting Jacob first and being able to co-parent”. 
YN smiled at his words because she knew he was right, she cared too much about what others thought. “Okay…when do I start to see your flaws?”. She joked as she nudged his shoulder playfully.
Harry let out a laugh, his smile wide and his eyes crinkled. “What do you mean?”. 
“You just seem to perfect for me…me being a Mum doesn’t bother you…me getting on with my ex and his partner is fine too…you just seem too good to be true”. Harry laughed at YN’s teasing, rubbing his finger under his nose as he did. 
Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I’d like to think I’m quite humble…I mean my Mum was a single Mum when I was growing up and we would see my Dad on the weekend…so I think I just get it”: 
“Well tell your Mum she raised a one of kind”. Harry took YN’s compliment because he knew his Mum was the kindest woman he knew.
“Shall I order us pizza?”. 
---
It was later in the evening and YN and Harry were both a couple of glasses in, and full from sharing a large pizza. The effect of the wine was starting to show as they both became extra giggly and Harry’s hand now rested on YN’s knee as they both leaned towards each other. 
“Okay…never have I ever gone skinny-dipping?” YN asked and they both took a sip from their glass. “Spill!”.
Harry let out a chuckle at YN wanting to know details. “Uh…I was on tour with the band…and one night me and a few of the boys thought it would be funny to sneak down to the pool, and go skinny dipping”. 
“Did you get caught?”. YN asked as she leaned her head on her hand against the top of the sofa. 
“Only by our security…but they just laughed at us and told us to go back to our rooms”. Harry recited the memory. “What about you?”. 
“It was when I was in uni…we went on a trip to the beach and we were playing a game…and our team lost and that was the consequence…quite boring actually”. YN laughed at how plain her story sounded. 
“Next one…never have I ever…been walked in on whilst having sex”. Harry asked but his drink stayed in place. But YN brought hers up to her lips to take a sip. “Really?”. 
“Yes…it was so embarrassing!”. YN shivered at the memory of Jack’s older brother walking in at an awkward time. “Moving on…never have I ever joined the mile high club”. YN watched as Harry took a drink from his glass, a slight smirk on his face. “I always imagined it would be cramped”.
“Well I mean…depends on the plane…if it’s a private plane then you’ve got enough room”. They both laughed, the alcohol taking over. “Never have I ever..” Harry thought of another question. “Wanted to kiss someone in this room”. 
Harry knew it was a bold move, he knew it could go either way but with the alcohol in his system and how close they were sitting, he took the risk. The way YN stared at him, he thought he may have ruined the moment but as he moved his glass up to his lips, YN mimicked his movement. 
YN gently took his glass from his hands and placed them both on the table. “Maybe we should do something about that”.
Harry was in awe when she made the first move and placed her lips on his. He could taste a mixture of red wine mixed with strawberry lipstick, as their lips moved heavily against the others. Harry pulled her closer so she was straddling him, both looking for closeness. 
YN moved her hands so they rested just below Harry’s neck. Harry’s one hand found familiarity on her thigh, whilst the other rested against her cheek. Their lips remained eager to get to know the other and their hands wanted to follow suit but nerves still remained present. 
Taglist:
@ell0ra-br3kk3r @vikiii07-blog @sleutherclaw
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Comparing you to their Ex girlfriend
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Kiyoomi Sakusa x Fem! reader; Atsumu Miya x Fem! Reader
Warnings: toxic behavior, swearing, Sakusa and Atsumu being big ole jerks, mention of ex’s, angst to comfort
AN: because I enjoy pain : D
Sakusa
Dating life had been pretty dull before you met MSBY’s famed spiker, Kiyoomi Sakusa. It had taken awhile to get to know him. He was a guarded and rather brass individual, not talking much to anyone outside his small circle. However after weeks of trying and being rejected, you finally were able to break thought his defensive walls. He had finally given you a chance.
Now, almost a year later, you and Kiyoomi had a well established routine. It had taken a while to figure out each other quirks, but soon you were able to function as one unit, living your lives both independently and cohesively.
However, one thing you struggled continuously to get use to was Kiyoomi’s high standards of cleanliness. No matter how hard you tried, you never were able to keep up. You knew it was a big reason why Kiyoomi and you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship, why you hadn’t yet moved in together. It was often a topic of discussion and many times arguments. Your disagreement’s were never fully settled as you both always managed to run out of steam, knowing this was an issue that wouldn’t be quickly resolved.
You tried you hardest, watching his routine and replicating it as best as you could but it was still never enough for him. Despite all this, you loved and adored Kiyoomi and wanted nothing more than the spend the rest of your life with him.
One night, you were sitting on his couch while you watched a movie. He had been at practice all day and you had just gotten off of work. You spent most of you time at his place, knowing perfectly well that he preferred it. While it was inconvenient at times, you kept clothes and the essentials at his place to make mornings and weekends a little easier.
“They are redoing carpeting in the hallway this week,” Kiyoomi spoke as you looked at him. You knew he had been hoping management would upgrade for a while now so you were thrilled.
“I’m glad! I know you’ve wanted this for a while. You always complain about the stains and stuff so it’s good that they are finally taking notice,” you said as he hummed in agreement.
“Yeah but I’ll have to stay in a hotel for a few days because I won’t be able to have access to my apartment so that kind of sucks.”
You didn’t see this as an inconvenience but rather as an opportunity. You had been waiting to show Kiyoomi how you’ve improved your cleaning skills and you were certain that they were beyond up to his standards.
“You know, you could just stay with me?” You spoke as Kiyoomi looked at you, smiling and then chuckling. Confused, your brows furrowed as you waited for him to speak.
“No offense sweetie but I’ve seen your cleaning skills and I think I’ll take my chances at a hotel,” he laughed. You sat up, looking at him as he stared.
“Omi I’ve been working my butt off to keep my place clean. I do everything you asked and I’ve been keeping in mind the things you taught me,” you said as Kiyoomis face fell. He could tell you were serious.
“YN it’s ok. Cleaning isn’t everyone’s strong suit and it’s obviously not yours,” he replied as you stood up, offended by his words.
“I’m trying my hardest Kiyoomi! I come home, exhausted everyday and I clean. Then, instead of relaxing, I drive over here and spend my nights with you because I know you are more comfortable in your own environment!” You shout as Kiyoomi rolls his eyes m, standing up and walking past you.
“YN you are making a huge deal of this again, we’ve been over this!” He spoke going into the kitchen and plgrabbing his cleaning supplies. You knew he cleaned when he was stress, it wasn’t like his normal routine.
“Omi I’m not trying to-”
“YN just shut up ok?! Just shut up! It’s always something with you! This is always a fight and I’m sick of it! If you were half as good as Becca was at cleaning we’d already be living together!” He growled as you froze, you mouth falling slack as you body went cold. How could he? How could he bring her up? Of everything he could have said, how could he have stooped so low.
You straightened you back, tears filling your eyes as you heart began to crumble, “I’ll never be good enough for you will I Kiyoomi?” Turning on your heels, you grabbed your purse and shoes, walking out the front door.
Leaning on the counter, his anger began to grow, not at you but at himself. He couldn’t believe she had come to his mind, someone he hadn’t thought about in years. Becca had been his high school sweetheart, and he thought she was it. Unfortunately, schedules clashed and his life as a pro-volleyball superstar skyrocketed. He found less and less time for her and she had grown sick of it. Before he knew it, he had come home to an empty apartment, he spare key on the counter with a note that simply rid, “I fell out of love with you.” That was the last Tim he had seen or heard from her again. He figured she’d moved on, found someone who was worthy of her time.
The breakup had broken him in more ways than he carried to admit. He became more reclusive, pulling away from friends and family. He got in the habit of being alone, functioning without someone at his side. That all changed when he met you. You were gorgeous, funny and so outgoing. He immediately found himself attracted to you but he was scared, scare of his heart being broken again, scared he would lose something so precious.
You continued to peruse him, despite his desperate attempts to keep you away. He wanted to be with you, wanted to move on but his fear of being left alone was paralyzing. Finally, he relented and went on a date with you. Soon one turned into two and then three and then six. Your relationship happened effortlessly and he enjoyed every minute of it. He knew he loved you, knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you but he was afraid to make that next step so he kept you at bay with his ridiculous cleaning demands. He knew they were outrageous and over the top but they protected him, they protected his heart.
He stood there, once again in silence as his breathe began to hitch. He had done it again, he had driven the person he lived away. His arms fell to his side as he reached for his phone. He pulled up your contact information and hit the dial button.
The phone rang and rang as you ignored it. You knew Kiyoomi was calling but you couldn’t bare speaking to him, you curled up in your freshly made bed as your tears overwhelmed you. The pain of her name imprinted on your brain as you sobbed.
Kiyoomi had told you about Becca, he had told you why she had left. You knew he was guarded and you were determined to do whatever you could to fix it. You hated how broken he was, how he felt he couldn’t trust anyone. It was a big reason as to why you worked your hardest to live up to his standards, thinking maybe, just maybe, he would let his guard down.
“You’re such an idiot Yn,” you cried as you covered your head up and sobbed deeply.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Atsumu answered as Kiyoomi stood in his kitchen, taking his hand down his face. He had messed up and in a bad way.
“I really fucked update with Yn Sumu. She left and I don’t think she’s coming back,” he murmured into the phone.
“What happened? Did she finally have enough of your bullshit demands?” Atsumu laughed as Kiyoomi sighed.
“We got into a fight because she wanted to me stay with her while my apartment was getting some work done. I thought she was joking but she wasn’t and I kind of threw Becca in her face.”
“You did what??? You asshole!” Atsumu shouted as Kiyoomi pulled the phone away from his ear, “I mean come on dude, YN has been dealing with your bullshit for almost a year now! She does everything you ask of her and all she wants is for you to see that. I think she’s more than shown you she can handle your ridiculous standards dude. Plus she’s probably the most patient woman I’ve ever seen. I mean, literally dealing with you is just as bad as emo Bokuto!”
Kiyoomi didn’t answer because he knew what Atsumu was saying was true. He knew his standards were high and that in a lot of ways, they were just a guard.
“You know she loves you right? She’s not going anywhere Omi. She chased you down for months and she’s stood by you for almost a year, she’s not leaving dude,” Atsumu spoke softly as a tear rolled down kiyoomi’s cheek.
“I think I need to talk to her,” he responded as he heard Atsumu mutter an “mmhmm” before hanging up. He grabbed his keys, locking up before making his way to your apartment.
You groaned as the knocking on your door became obsessive. You had absolutely no intention on answering the door in the state you were in but the person had continued to knock for well over 20 minutes.
With mascara running down your cheeks and you hair in disarray, you made your way to the front door, checking the peephole before opening it.
You saw Kiyooni on the other side, looking visibly upset. Unlocking the door, you swung it open as the smell of cleaning products wafted, hitting his nose smack in the face.
“What do you want?” You growled as Kiyoomi stood there taking you in. You looked like you had been crying, no doubt because of him and his actions. Your face was flush and your hair a complete disaster. Still, you looked absolutely breathtaking to him.
“Can-can I come in?” He questioned, rubbing the back of his head as you turned and headed towards the living room.
“Take your shoes off at least,” you said as Kiyoomi looked around. Your apartment was immaculately kept, everything clean and in its place. Dare he say, it may have even been cleaner than his own place.
Having slipped his shoes off, he headed to the couch. You had sat in the arm chair, indicating you didn’t want to be close to him. He couldn’t really blame you for that.
“I can to apologize Yn. I’m really sorry for everything I said, for how hard I’ve been on you. Honestly, I don’t have an excuse at this point. I’ve been a complete asshole to you. I’ve set my standards and walls so high that I was sure you’d never reach them and every time you did, it kind of freaked me out. I was scared of losing you like I lost her. I was scared of how much I loved you and how much I came to need you in my life. I know you don’t have to forgive me and I don’t expect you too but I just wanted you to know how sorry I am and how much I really do love you.”
Tears fell as you listened to him speak. You knew he was guarded but this was a whole new level. Tears streamed down your cheeks as your eyes met his, “I love you Kiyoomi and all I’ve ever tried to do was show you that. I know how important volleyball is to you and what happened with your ex but I’m not her. I’m not going to to fall out of love with you because your passionate about volleyball.”
Kiyoomi watched you as tears fell, he knew you were being sincere and that you cared for him. He stood up, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you, “YN, I love you and I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I said those things and pushed you away. I’m sorry I ever gave you a chance or agreed to come stay with you. I shouldn’t have compared you to her. There is nothing to compare Yn, I love you so so much more than I ever loved her and I hope you can find it in your heart o forgive me.”
You smiled softly as you hand went to rest on his cheek, whiling a stray tear as it flowed down, “I forgive you Kiyoomi and I love you so much.”
Atsumu
Your relationship with Atsumu was an interesting one. When you first met him, you thought he was rather arrogant and annoying, not usually someone you’d date. However the more you got to know him, the more he grew on you, leading to your now 6 month long relationship. Sure it had its ups and downs but you were so in love with the un-toned blonde setter.
Atsumu and you both had extreme personalities, which was a double edged sword in your relationship. You both were extremely passionate and loving towards each other but when you fought, oh boy was it a show.
You didn’t fight a lot, usually only when things got serious or you got annoyed with his normal stupidity. You both had separate lives, somehow managing to cohesively combine them to fit each other.
Both being workaholics, you struggled sometimes to find time for each other. Atsumu was at the gym for long hours and you were at your office for equally as long but you always made weekly dates and kept your relationship fresh.
This week, it was your turn to plan your weekly date. Unfortunately for you, you’d been not only extremely run down at work but your period had just started and you weren’t feeling the best. You decided that it would be ok to keep it low key for one week since you usually always went all out. You’d order take out and watch a movie, it was simple but you knew the point of date was to spend time with your man.
When Sumu came home, he noticed you in your pajama’s chilling on the couch as you smiled at him. He looked at you, confused as to why you weren’t ready to go out. “Uh babe, we have date night tonight remember?” He said, removing his shoes and setting his bag down. He had been busy at the gym, exhausted from all the extra work he had been putting in. He was looking forward to going out, enjoying the town and spending time with his girl.
“I thought we could switch things up once! I was going to order take out and figured we could rent a movie,” you smiled as his face fell. You looked at him as he stared at you, wondering why his expression had all of a sudden turned sour
“Babe we always go out. I was looking forward to not being at home,” he complained as you stood up, walking over to him. You could tell he was growing agitated but maybe if you explained then he’d be ok.
“Sumu, I’m dead tired and my period came today-”
“Ok so take a midol or something! We can still go out Yn. You aren’t the only one on this relationship you know!?” he shouted as you reeled. What the actual fuck?
“Sumu what the hell?!? I planned a nice night in because I don’t feel well and you tell me to just take some pills and get over it?”
“It honestly sounds like you were just being lazy Yn. It’s not like it takes that much effort to make reservations or put a little makeup on. I mean you do it everyday for your coworkers so you should be able to do it for your boyfriend!” He shouted as you began growing angry.
“Well I’m fucking sorry for having a uterus Sumu! Heaven forbid I ever fucking inconvenience you with my bleeding and exhaustion but oh wait, I forgot, I’m not perfect like you!” You screamed back as he glared.
“You know, Layla never bothered me with shit like this Yn, she knew exactly what I wanted and she never argued with me!” He spat as you stared at him, mouth agape.
How fucking dare he bring her up? Layla, his perfect ex girlfriend who was a model and absolutely drop dead gorgeous. He knew bringing up her was a low blow and he didn’t even care.
“Well then, why don’t you go back to Layla then if I’m such an inconvenience,” you murmured, standing your ground.
“Maybe I will!” He shouted, grabbing his gym bag, slipping his shoes on and walking out the front door.
It took a moment, just a minute to sink in before your whole world came crashing down. Your hands flew to your mouth as you began to shake, tears threatening to spill as you quickly turned and headed to the bedroom.
You cried as you grabbed your overnight bag and began throwing clothes in it. You couldn’t believe he had said that. How could he possibly stoop so low. Of all the people, why did it have to be her? Your chest stung as you leave with the bare minimum, throwing your purse over your shoulder and grabbing your keys as you frantically made your way to the front door.
You had to get out of here, you couldn’t stay here. Not in this place, not surrounded by pictures of the two of you and definitely not as the afterburn of her name hit you. The thought of him seeking her out to comfort him chipped away at your heart, you couldn’t stomach the thought of Atsumu being with her again.
You turned, looking around one last time before leaving. The tears fell, gathering on your clothes and shoes. The heartbreak you were feeling immeasurable.
Groaning, Atsumu sat in his car thinking about the fight over and over again. He was pissed, fuming actually but surprising, it wasn’t at you. He only had himself to be angry at. He knew he overreacted, knew you didn’t deserve the shouting match he started.
He sighed, getting out of his car and knocking on his brothers door. Osamu answered, giving his twin a weird look.
“I thought tonight was date night?”
“YN and I had a fight,” he spoke as Osamu rolled his eyes.
“Of course you did,” he responded moving out of the way, “what happened in paradise now?”
“Well it was suppose to be date night and instead of planning a date, she decided it would be ok for us to just have takeout and watch a movie,” Atsumu reiterated as Samu stared at him.
“Ok and what’s wrong with that?”
“I wanted to go out but she said she wasn’t feeling good, her period or something. So I suggested she take midol-”
“Bro you didn’t?” Samu spoke, eyes widening as Atsumu stared at him.
“I mean, I guess it was kind of rude but dude I want to go out, I want to do stuff!”
“Ok but maybe Yn wasn’t feeling good. Date nights aren’t about going out, it’s about spending time together,” Samu replied.
“Yeah I guess so,” Atsumu said, thinking back to the conversation, “fuck I said something else too. Something kind of mean.”
Osamu looked at him as Atsumu raked his hands through his hair, “what did you say?”
“Fuck- I fuck! I compared her to Layla,” Sumu said, collapsing on his brothers couch.
“You compared Yn, sweet Yn, to that cunt? Dude she was such a fucking bitch and she cheated on you! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Osamu shouted as Atsumu sat down, hands going straight to his hair.
“I know I know man! Fuck I was just so upset about not going out and I- I guess I overreacted.”
“You think? God Sumu you are so stupid! YN is literally the best thing that ever happened to you! Do you realize how fucking annoying you are to deal with? How much YN puts up with? Do you remember when you found out Layla was cheating? God you were the literal worst! Sakusa, heck even Meian, couldn’t handle you!” Atsumu’s hands went down to his knees as he contemplated everything he had been through.
Atsumu had been single for almost a year when he had first laid eyes on you. After Layla had cheated, he had stuck to mostly one night stands. While they weren’t in short supply, he missed the connection of having someone to care for and love.
The first time he saw you was at a bar, dressed in a skin tight outfit he couldn’t remove from his mind. His plans for you started out like all his other plans but immediately changed when you flatly turned him down. He’ll never forget the look you gave him and the giggle followed by the words, “not in your lifetime big guy.” Those words, the look you gave him were definitely what first attracted him to you and after chasing you for months, he finally wore you down enough for a date.
He was utterly broken after his ex had left, crushed by the weight of feeling not good enough. He didn’t want that to ever happen again which is why he kept all potential flings at a distance m, never bringing them to his apartment and never bothering to learn their names, but when you came into his life, that all changed. He learned that he could love again and that not all women were like Layla.
Atsumu stood up, walking to Osamu’s door and exiting. He knew exactly what he needed to do. He needed to grovel at your feet, beg for forgiveness and pray that you’d find it in your amazing heart to forgive him.
Arriving at your shared apartment, he ran upstairs grabbing the door handle and pushing it, only it was locked. His eyes widened as he again pushed on the knob. Why was the door locked? Did you not expect him to come home tonight? The words hit him like a ton of bricks.
“Well then maybe you should go back to Layla!”
“Maybe I will!”
“Shit shit!” He whispered as he quickly grabbed his keys and unlocked the door, pushing in as fast as he could. The apartment was dark and quiet, something he wasn’t use to.
“YN!! YN!! Baby where are you?!”
He searched the entire apartment, frantically looking for any sign of you. He stopped, his breathe hitching as his mind wandered to the worst.
“No no! Please tell me she didn’t!?” He yelled, running to the closet in your bedroom and throwing it open. The blood drained from his face and his eyes began to water as he slowly backed up. Your suitcase was gone, some of your clothes also.
Scrambling quickly, he ran to his phone on the counter and quickly found your number. “Come on baby, pick up!” He whispered.
“Hello?” You answered, somber in tone and sounding like you had been crying.
“Baby? Oh thank god! Where are you? I came home and you were gone, I was so worried!” He sighed, feeling a little relieved that you actually answered his call.
“Why don’t you go back to Layla? I’m sure she can console you!” You spat as Atsumu whinced. Ok, he deserved that, he definitely deserved that.
“Baby, listen I just want to talk ok? I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry Yn. I know I overreacted and I know my words don’t makeup for what I said but I love you Yn. You are the one I want, the one who helped me to trust again. Please Yn, baby come home,” Atsumu sobbed as you sighed.
“I’m sorry Sumu but I’m not going to come home tonight or for a while. What you said was so hurtful and low. You didn’t think of anyone but yourself Sumu. I told you I wasn’t feeling well, that I was exhausted and you told me to take some medicine and suck it up! Then on top of that, you threw her fucking name in my face! You don’t know how fucking much that shattered me Sumu,” you cried, sucking in a breath as Atsumu listened. He knew he fucked up but this was by far the worst he’d ever messed up.
“Princess please, I know- I know I’m a fucking asshole and I should have never ever brought her up, I was mad and I let me anger get the better of me. Just please, please can we talk about this?” He pleaded into the phone, tears running down his cheeks.
“I’ll talk to you later Sumu,” you sighed, hanging up as Atsumu collapsed to his knees, his body shaking as he tried to process everything. You were gone, really gone.
The next morning, your phone rang as you sighed, bracing for another phone call from Atsumu. You picked up the phone, looking at the caller id as your brows furrowed.
“Hello?” You said as Osamu’s voice filled the receiver.
“Hey Yn, uh I’m really sorry to bother you but Sakusa just called me, Atsumu didn’t show up for practice today. I can’t leave the restaurant right now or I’d go check on him but I was wondering if you were with him?”
You breathe stopped, your mind functioning of auto pilot as you raced from your hotel room to your car.
“YN is everything ok?” Osamu said sounding more panicked.
“I- I left Samu! I left him alone! Oh god, Samu I was so hurt by what he said! I got a hotel room and he called me last night. He told me how sorry he was and I told him I needed time! Oh my god what if something happened to him!”
You were sobbing as your tires squealed, your foot hitting the floor as you peeled out of the hotel parking lot. The tears rolled down your face as you heart sped up, your brain automatically going to the worst possible scenario.
“YN calm down ok? I’m sure he’s fine! Please don’t do anything irrational right now,” Sumu spoke, trying to calm you.
You couldn’t answer as you speed to your apartment, parking and throwing open the car door. You left Osamu shouting into your phone as you as you quickly raced to the door.
Ramming into your front door, you threw it open and we’re greeted with Atsumu standing there, staring at you.
“YN what the hell? Are you ok?” he said as you through your body into his, bracing as you sobbed into his chest.
“Osamu called me and said that you didn’t show up to practice! I thought about our conversation last night and oh god Sumu!” You cried into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close and rubbing your back.
“Baby, hey it’s ok. I’m ok? I texted Meian and told him I needed a day off. I just couldn’t get you off my mind and the thought of even trying to push you out just hurt,” he said, hugging you tight as his eyes began to well with tears.
“Baby I’m so so fucking sorry! I can’t believe I was so selfish. I know I don’t deserve you but YN, I love you more than anything. You are it for me, the only thing I ever want.”
You pulled back, eyes softening as you quickly placed a kiss on Atsumu’s lips, “Sumu what you said was mean and hurtful and you are the biggest jerk ever but I love you so much and the thought of losing you well, it crushed me more than anything.”
“I promise Yn, I’ll be better for you,” he smiled, leaning down and taking your lips once again.
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