#sorry for who I’ll become once the movie drops

[chloesimaginationthings]

WOW! I do believe Your artistic interpretation of Circus Baby has become my new sleep paralysis demon. Thank you for that.

(In all seriousness, your art do be looking great as usual)

Clown girl goes honk

[cherriegyuu]

midnight rain | lsm

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

Letter #1

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it was trauma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I just…"

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

Letter #2

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

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

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

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

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

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

He had no idea.

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

"What? You’re leaving today?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #3

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s really you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you recommend?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

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

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

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your question?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #5

Seokmin

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

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

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

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

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

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

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

What am I still doing?

yn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You never quite managed to do that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To hell with his plan.

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

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

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

“Seokmin, I…”

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled over your skin. 

“At least this hasn’t changed”

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

“Where’s your room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Seokmin... harder"

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #6

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

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

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

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

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

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

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me give you a ride”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both of you screamed, shouted, and said what you wanted to say — or at least part of what you wanted to say. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at the same time a new one was placed on it.

After you fell asleep in his arms, the only thing Seokmin could think about were the letters scattered across the living room floor. There were so many. He couldn't believe you had spent all those years writing letters to him.

He needed to read them all. He would have done it in the living room, but he didn't know what awaited him, so he collected them all from the floor and a few more that had been left in the box and left.

He read the first one in the car, he couldn't wait until he got home. 

Seokmin cried right there, the same way he cried when you left. Inconsolable. His heart broke and healed in equal measure with every word of yours he read.

Seokmin always believed that you left like that, without a single word, because you didn't like him that much, because you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Not that he thought the entire relationship had been a lie, but he thought that somehow the love had ended. It happened to everyone, the probability of it happening to him was also high.

The truth could not be different. There wasn't a letter in which you didn't say you loved him, not always in those words, but he knew you well enough to know that was what you said.

After reading all the letters, Seokmin called Joshua. He cried on the phone with his friend and then once again when he showed up at his place with bad beer and takeout food. “Since we’re going to talk about our college days, I think we should do the same thing we did back then” was all he said.

Seokmin was on his way to you when he saw you walking without an umbrella. He wanted to talk to you, to know if even after so long you still wanted to try with him one more time. It was better to try than to always wonder what could have been.

“I read your letters!” he shouted louder than the rain.

His words were enough to make you stop walking, but you still didn't turn to face him. It was too hard to breathe. Your chest rose and fell irregularly each time you tried to pull the air in.

You knew Seokmin had taken the letters. Part of you knew he would read them, but the last thing you expected was for him to want to talk about them.

“I know” you said when he approached “I saw they were gone, and you were the only person who came by”

“Do you know why I accepted to host a love advice show? Besides it being something I've always wanted, of course” he didn't give you time to answer “Because a part of me wanted you to listen, to know that I was okay, even if it was a lie. I thought that if I talked about it on a show that had used the nickname you gave me, you’d regret it. I thought that I should make you regret it because it was the only way I could still think about you without looking like a fool after so long. I thought you didn’t care, that you had left because you didn’t like me anymore, so making you regret your decision was the only option I had”

You shook your head. It wasn't true, not by a long shot.

“I'm sorry” you said softly “I should have told you what I was doing, that I had applied for the and got in. I thought it was my only option. It was so stupid. I was so stupid”

Seokmin laughed a little, fingers running under your eyes. A second later he pressed his lips over yours.

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

It's been a good few years since I wrote you a letter. After a while, I didn't think I needed it anymore because I started saying everything I wanted, everything I felt, looking at you. Of course, this new arrangement has its demerits, as the paper and pen don't look at me like a lost puppy. But paper and pen don't kiss me either, so it has its bonus.

I thought when I came home four years ago, I would never see you again. I thought you would just be the guy who has a radio show that I would listen to every now and then. I didn't expect to see you my first week back and again and, well,  again.

As you probably know, I've never been a big fan of rainy days. I always preferred sunny days because those were the days I woke up ready to face the world. I felt better overall. But also because they reminded me of you. You know, when the sun appears after gray days? For me, you were always like that. Grand and brilliant.

But after that day, I started to like rainy days too because they started to be full of the two of us. Rain was no longer synonymous of an unproductive day, but rather of the memory of our fresh start.

You know this, we've talked about it a few times, but I spent a few months waiting for it to sink in. Sort of expecting that one day I would wake up and it would all be a dream. It was hard for both of us, I know. It was seven years of hurt and resentment and we had to navigate this uncertain sea without a map. Nobody teaches you how to do this, believe me, I looked. I found countless books on how to start dating, how to save a relationship, and how to get over a relationship. The problem is that none of them teach you how to rekindle a relationship after seven years apart, but during those seven years one of the parties wrote letters and the other had a program just to mourn the sorrows of the relationship.

I've read several, so you can trust what I say on this.

It really wasn't easy, but I think we came out better, stronger, in some way.

I love you and I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Our forever begins today, in a little while. So stop crying, put ice on your eyes to help the swelling go down, and go to the aisle because I miss you already.

I love you.

yn

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[munsonify]

lost bracelet

pairing. steve harrington x fem!reader

summary. after finding a lost bracelet at a house party, steve keeps ahold of it in hopes someone comes looking for it. luckily for him, he notices that the pretty girl at the video store with a matching necklace.

genre. fluff

tropes. meet cute (kind of)

content warning/s. alcohol and weed consumption, making out and sexual touching (in a flashback), not proofread lol.

word count. 1448

disney princess collection

A shiny, dainty bracelet dangled, hooked on a loose screw on the brown banister of Mike Lewinski’s house. It was late, streetlights shining through the houses front doors. Even through Steve’s slightly drunken haze, the silver jewelry caught his eye quickly. The streetlights shined perfectly as it caught the dangling beauty.

Steve stumbled over slightly to the banister, thick fingers grasping at the bracelet gently as he admired it. The design looked familiar - small multicolored flowers dangling from the chain. He admired it, thoughts racing and blurring together as he tries to piece together where he’s seen this bracelet before. With a frustrated huff, he carefully slid it off of the nail, holding it in his hands as his thoughts betrayed him. Steve cant quite remember when he’s seen it. Instead of dwelling - his head beginning to pound and swirl - he hooked it around his own wrist.

“Bracelets like that are the first steps to cross dressing, Harrington. Is there something you need to tell the class?” Robin retorted in a slurred voice, stumbling to Steve’s side. Even drunk, she could find a way to poke harmlessly at her friend.

“I’ve seen it before, Rob,” He mumbled. He made his way to the door. “Think someone lost it. Gotta make sure they find it.”

Robins eyebrows raised at him, watching his drunken figure stumble out of Lewinksi’s house with a serious look on his face.

“So you decided to steal it?”

“I’ll know whose it is when I see them. Gotta keep it safe.”

Stumbling after Steve, Robin just let him be. There was no use trying to talk some sense into him, especially when he’s drunk. With a mumbled “dingus”, the two found their way to a sober Jonathan, who promised to drive them home.

A few days had passed since the night Steve found the flowered bracelet. He’d since taken it off, storing it in his jeans pocket everywhere he went. He was certain he knew who it belonged to - the memory was just buried somewhere in the back of his mind. Long fingers gently fiddled with the silver, becoming almost a nervous habit he’d become comfortable with.

There wasn’t much Steve remembered about that night. He remembered the beers and the loud thumping music, and the possibility that he’d gotten a hit off Eddie’s joint earlier in the night. He also remembered finding the bracelet - it dangled off his wrist even while he crashed and burned into his welcoming bed. He just wished he remembered who it belonged to.

His head snapped up quickly as the bell at the door of Family Video rang out. A group of young boys came in, babbling on about what rated R movie they were hoping to rent. Steve also wished he wasn’t constantly waiting for this mystery person to appear.

“If you keep getting distracted like that, Keith’s gonna fire your sorry ass,” Robin said with a glare. She caught the glare Steve threw back at her and ignored it. They both knew Kieth was too short staffed to do anything more than threaten him.

“Give it up man,” Eddie quipped, his curly hair shaking around his head as he spoke. Steve found himself, once again, fiddling with the bracelet in his pocket. It’d gotten so bad that Eddie of all people picked up on it. “You stole the bracelet, of course nobody’s gonna come looking for it.”

He earned himself a rough smack in the arm, returning with his hands up in defense. Steve seemed more pent up than usual, so Eddie dropped it. He gave him a wonky side eye, before he went outside for a smoke. One he thought Steve would benefit from.

A stack of videos rested on Steve’s hip as his eyes scan the shelves. He hadn’t worked in three days, and Kieth had somehow rearranged the entire store. That left Steve and Robin scrambling to familiarize themselves with the new set up. Steve couldn’t help but let out a frustrated huff.

He stumbled around the store with heavy feet, placing each returned film in its proper place, completely focused on his task. He was walking in circles in a dull attempt to finish the stack. Steve had already found himself in a bad mood to begin with. Rain poured outside, the dark clouds making Hawkins look more depressing than usual. He made sure to make a comment about the humidity and his hair to Robin before they were forced to work.

So engrossed in the task at hand, Steve failed to notice the front door opening. Somehow his ears didn’t register the chiming of the bell. With one last final trilogy in hand, he was determined to find its home before he even dared to look back at the register or the front door.

It wasn’t until a nice smelling perfume filled his senses that he came back to his surroundings. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. He recognized that scent. It wasn’t Robins, he knew that, the scent too distinct for him not to pick up on it. It certainly wasn’t Nancy’s. He’d grown a slight adversity to it.

A sweet voice rang into his ears before he could come to his own conclusion.

“Excuse me, sir?” you asked. Steve shuffled around on his feet at the question, eyes locking with yours the moment he finds them. His eyebrows knitted together even more at the sight of a woman his age - why were you calling him sir? He quickly chalked it up to politeness.

“Can you help me find the romance section please? You must’ve rearranged the store, I can’t find it.” Your pretty smile ignited something inside of him. His mind quickly flooded with the memory he’d been looking for since the party at Lewinski’s.

He quickly remembered your soft lips against his, the gentleness of your fingers brushing through his hair, the loud music surrounding the two of you. Steve had your back pressed into a corner of the dining room, locking you in place. He remembered the strawberry lipgloss you had on, too. It was an odd contrast to the liquor on your tongue. More importantly, he remembers the pretty necklace that you wore that night. It was a perfect match to the bracelet in his back pocket.

An awkward cough escaped your throat at the sudden quietness. Your eyebrows were raised in a confused sort of way as you stared up into his eyes. You hardly noticed his blush before he turned his head. Steve began babbling about how Keith - his manager - switched everything around without warning. You followed his awkward stumble towards the new spot for romance in the store.

There was something familiar about the man, you just couldn’t pinpoint where the familiarity came from. You fiddled with the flowered necklace around your neck as you moved past the thought. Your eyes landed immediately on the romance movie you were in search of. A giddy laugh rang into Steve’s ears as you slid the video off the rack and into both hands.

You walked up to the front of the store, letting the man guide you once again. Quickly, you noticed the way he reached inside of his front pocket and fidgeted. He seemed nervous, or deep in thought. He slid behind the counter to the register, eyes flickering up at you as he speaks.

“You were at Lewinski’s party last weekend, right?”

You couldn’t help but scoff at the reminder. A quick nod of your head gave him his answer, though you still spoke. Steve noticed the way your nose scrunched up in annoyance. It made his heart flutter.

“Yeah, but I kinda wish I didn’t.” Your words made his heart drop. He wondered if you remembered, or if you were too far gone to recall it. Your next words washed that away, though. “I lost my bracelet that night. It was my favorite, too.”

Steve’s hand found its way down to his pocket again. This time, he tugged out a thin bracelet. The same bracelet you were missing. Your eyes lit up again at the sight of it, relief filling your body. More rambles spew from his mouth, explaining that he found it when he was heading out and didn’t want to leave it.

He felt your fingers brush against his as you took it from his hand. Your bright smile and your gentle touch had his head spinning. You rambled on much like he did about how grateful you were of him. It didn’t take long for you to get choked up on your words. The way Steve stared into your eyes, you remembered where you’d knew him from. Warmth bloomed from your neck and stretched to your face. He’d been on your mind for days - you had no idea you’d run into him like this.

You weren’t sure what stars aligned for this to happen, but you were beyond grateful it did.

taglist. @songbirdofthenight

[henneseyhoe]

I JUST READ THE MELO SMUT🥵🥵so good can you do another one we’re he’s obsessed with the reader like he’s always posting her and showing her love or even like him being overly obsessed and a little dark

CLOSER.

Lamelo x BLACK!FEM!reader.

WARNINGS:!!SLIGHT CNC!!, daddy kink, stalking, mentions of blood and death, k!dnapping, mentions of mental health, kn!fe play(kinda), breeding if you squint, crying(as always), reader is a tad bit delusional, no protection(wrap it before you tap it)

Ps. I feel like being a perfectionist and overthinking fucked this up for me but I can’t keep holding this damn request hostage 😩 so I hope you still enjoy this, it’s LONG lmfao.

Pss. I thought I lost this request, whole time I just had to scroll down LMFAOOO

✮✮✮✮

“Damn, girl. This like the fiftieth love note you’ve gotten this month!” Karina exclaims, looking down at the stack of notes on Y/Ns counter, the girl adding one more from today into the pile. Truthfully, Karina had been sick of seeing them, disgusted by the amount she got weekly. “Girl, stop! It’s not…maybe fortieth” Karina makes a face, side eyeing Y/N with slight scornful expression. She was more than weirded out at the creepy gestures not moving her friend even a bit. Karina on the other hand, got goosebumps even looking at the letters. They were creepy to her, and every time she read one about this mysterious person confessing their love to her bestfriend, she grew more concerned for her wellbeing. “Like that makes a difference, Y/N. You don’t find this shit kinda..weird?” Y/N shrugs, not seeing the point in looking deeper than the notes themselves. A part inside of her liked the attention she got.

“No, not really. It’s kinda sweet!”

“Sweet?! this man, woman, thing, whatever the fuck! Has been writing to you for almost five months now and has not shown their face. You don’t think that’s creepy?”

“I dunno. Maybe they shy, Karina”

“Nuh-uh. I don’t trust it, I don’t like it. What if it’s your ex?” Y/N laughs, taking her jacket off and setting it on a coat hanger in her closet before heading to her kitchen to prepare a meal, Karina following closely behind her to continue her scolding.

“You are so dramatic, you know that? Me and Jason haven’t talked in so long, I doubt it. I haven’t even seen the nigga around”

“So? Nothing about me is dramatic, I’m telling you the truth. That’s more than a secret admirer, that’s a stalker”

Y/N shrugged her off, laughing once again, and further annoying Karina with her lack of urgency to get down to the bottom of the situation at hand. “Stalker? What is this, a lifetime movie?”

“No, it’s real life. that’s why I need you to stay ready for whatever, especially with that creepy ass message your ex sent you after your breakup”

Little did she know, her friend was right all along. It wasn’t her ex, but someone who was far more demented and delusional. Lamelo had been sending eerily specific love letters to Y/N’s house for months, but had been watching her for well over a year now. Almost as soon as he saw her, his last obsession became a buried memory, Y/N now being in the forefront of his mind and sticking there like double sided tape to itself. After some time, he knew her from top to bottom, back to front, and soon, inside and out. If it was up to him, she would have always been his, but he wasn’t the best with approaching women of Y/N’s caliber. She was smart, a college student studying computer science, and none of his silly mind games that’d usually trip up other girls he was interested in would work on her. He had to up his game, and so, he set his plan in motion until he got her in the right place to sink his teeth into her.

✮✮✮✮

“Be safe, okay?”

“Yes, Karina! I won’t get murdered or chopped up over my vacation week, I promise” Y/N joked, but Karina was dead serious, finding no humor in her mess. Y/N’s smile drops, and she becomes serious, mostly so Karina would leave her alone about those ‘silly little notes’. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll be safe” she reassured, both the girls finally saying their goodbyes with a loving hug and wave. Closing the door, Y/N sighs. Karina was her bestest friend in the world, but sometimes she could be overbearing. Y/N felt maybe she needed a bit of attention since her recent breakup. She craved it, really. It didn’t matter if the attention was physical or something with a little less contact, Y/N wanted it. But, It wouldn’t go farther than that, she didn’t need a rebound.

Walking into her kitchen where she just finished preparing dinner, she began making herself a plate of spaghetti and freshly toasted bread. The smell of the food made her stomach growl. She knew if she didn’t give Karina a plate of her own before she left, she’d complain that Y/N hogged all that good food to herself. Satisfied with the plate she made, she grabbed her a fork from the dishwasher and sat down at the dining table. Taking a generous amount of pasta on her fork, her mouth watered just as she was about to send her tastebuds to food-heaven.

Then, the doorbell rang.

The girl pauses, praying whoever the hell that was would go away on their own so she could finish eating.

Knock, knock, knock.

Damn. Her lights were on, they knew she was home. She sighs, her fork lowering back down to her plate. Swallowing the saliva that had accumulated in her mouth, she unsticks herself from her comfortable seat, grumpily making her way towards the front door. Oddly, she saw no one through the frosted glass frame placed in the middle of the door, so she was forced to open it up and see what was going on.

“Hello??” She called, aggravated by how she had to leave her hot dinner just to answer the door and be met with silence. Stepping out on her porch a little, her eyes scan her yard, though nothing but darkness surrounded. Shaking her head, Y/N slams the door shut and locks it. “Stupid ass kids knockin’ on my door. One day imma stick my foot up one of they asses” She rants, walking back to her little set up. Feeling happiness again, she takes that lovely bite of food and does a little dance in her seat.

As her eating progresses, she couldn’t help but to notice her vision blurring, creating two of everything around her. Her head began to spin, and her heartbeat could be heard in her ears mid bite. She had lost her appetite completely by now, currently only focusing on not throwing up all over her table.

‘Where’s my phone?’

She could have sworn she had set it right next to her plate, but it was no where to be found now, even in her corrupted vision. Holding her head in her free hand, she gags at the sudden smell that fills her nose. It was a faint smell, but noticeable. sweet smelling, almost. Ironic for the bitter moment. Her brain told her to stand, and she followed suit, but she couldn’t stop the weakening of her knees or how slowed her breathing was getting.

Her body hit the floor with a ‘THUD’, her limbs feeling completely weighted down, and her consciousness slipping from her as she laid on the cold tiled floor, unable to move.

✮✮✮✮

There she was. Finally where Lamelo wanted her to be. He was so jittery and giddy about his successes that he could scream, but he held off on that till he was alone. His letters, fake pages, dms, and Instagram likes had finally paid off. He had her all to himself, and finally, no one was in his way. Not her colleagues, not Karina, not even her ‘crazy ass’ ex. He had gotten rid of him as soon as tension rose in their relationship. Jason hadn’t seen REAL crazy till he met Lamelo, and he made sure he knew that before his last breath.

The first time Lamelo and Jason interacted was when he witnessed their first relationship fight, which was fairly petty, but Melo didn’t see it that way. He had left a reeeal lengthy note on Jason’s dorm door, describing in step by step detail about how he would gut him like a fish, cut him up into tiny pieces and send every single bit of him off to his ‘helpless whore of a mother’, as Melo described her as. Of course Jason was shaken up, rightfully so. But obviously not shaken up enough to back off.

After not talking to Y/N since the argument, Jason appeared on her porch with that same note, tearing her a new one. He thought Karina was playing jokes on him for arguing with her bestfriend and making her cry. He took his anger out on her, yelled up a storm, and burned up the letter in his hand with his lighter, leaving it on the poor girls porch to stomp out as tears flowed from her glossed brown eyes.

Lamelo took the whole thing as a challenge. Did he really think Karina was on his level of literacy? That note was too well typed for it to be her. So, him being the man he was, made his threats come to fruition. He easily beckoned Jason into close arm reach by teasing him on his campuses basketball court as Jason was doing solo drills. Lucky for Lamelo, he trained at night.

Walking himself into the low lit court, Lamelo began taunting him, which stretched over three whole minutes. Knowing the hot head would react with physical anger, Lamelo kept a guard, and as soon as Jason tried him, Lamelo revealed the bat he held behind his back, swiftly taking a mighty swing at the man’s left leg, hitting right below his knee. Jason couldn’t have possibly seen it coming.

“Right out the park!” Lamelo continued to tease with a wide smile as if blood wasn’t splattered on his shoes. Red spilled from the back of Jason’s knee from his bone completely breaking and stabbing its way through his muscles and skin. You could have heard the snap of the bone and the sound of him hitting the floor echo through the gym, a sound Melo wanted to hear, but Jason’s loud screaming ruined getting the full effect. “I guess this is the part where I run to base” Grabbing the man by his destroyed, bloodied leg, Lamelo drags Jason off of the court as he screams bloody murder.

Lamelo instantly began regretting not bringing anything else to knock him out with without killing him, but every mastermind had slip ups. a shame somebody is gonna hear his screams and probably have nightmares about it now though. Not that Lamelo cared about either parties wellbeing, he just didn’t wanna hear his or anyone else’s mouth.

Then, in Lamelo’s basement face down, Jason continues to cry like a baby while Lamelo took a much needed drink break for the sake of his sanity, or what was left of it.

“How the fuck am I supposed to play ball now!?” Jason heaves suddenly with a quiet sob leaving his dry lips, his coffee colored hands holding his thigh as the blood spilling slowed. “You genuinely thought you were gonna get that far?”

Before Jason had time to attempt to answer, two bullets were already lodged into his skull, one exiting from between his eyebrows and one through his left eye socket.

✮✮✮✮

His daydreaming was cut short by Y/N mixing in her seat. Her consciousness had finally came back, but confusion quickly filled that space in her mind that was once occupied by unconsciousness. She looks around, not recognizing anything around her. “Look who’s up” Melo leans up from his seat in front of her, peeling off the ghostface mask he wore just for dramatic purposes. Y/N’s eyebrows knit together. “I know whatchu thinking. Where am I? Who are you? I’ll tell you all that later. But, for right now, we’re gonna celebrate” He smiles, and tosses the mask, standing from the couch he sat on.

Walking over to a small bar, he pours an unknown drink into a glass. Y/N had no idea what was going on, nor did she really care to find out. She was too worried about all the guns and knives that were laid out on the floor next to his seat. Fear pumped up her body with adrenaline, her entire being tingling. She wanted to jump out of her seat, but her arms were tied behind her back, and her ankles were tied to the chair’s own legs.

“I wanna make a toast. To a new life, and new love” He held up his glass and drunk some of the mystery liquor. Waking over to her, he holds the glass to her lips. “Drink” he instructed, Y/N shaking her head and looking away. “Why not? You think I poisoned it or somethin’?” He takes his hand and grabs her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “I wouldn’t do that to myself, so drink” he insists.

Looking back at him, her eyes trace his features, stretching down his long, tatted arms. Creepy shit aside, she thought he was cute, but she had to stay focused. “If you don’t drink, imma just force you” Y/N didn’t budge, but Lamelo had no problem with setting her straight early on. Gripping the sides of her face to make her open her mouth, he tilts her head back roughly and pours the drink into her mouth. The liquid went down smoothly, but burned her throat like hell. She didn’t drink, she never did because she got drunk easily, and Lamelo knew that.

She jerks her head away with a strong gag, tears welling up in her eyes. “I dunno if you realized yet, but I’m the one in charge, I’m the one who ain’t tied up, I’m the one that could end you like *snap* that” he threatens with a snap, but it holds no weight to him. He wasn’t gonna kill this one, or at least he hoped he wouldn’t have to. “I know you’re a smart girl, so I know you can listen. I didn’t go through all those letters to find out you can’t follow simple instructions, pretty”

Her eyes were drawn to him, anger now flickering within them like a flame in a dark room. “Letters?…You were the one writing those fuckin’ letters?” She spoke through clenched teeth. Lamelo smiles. “Surpriiiise~” he sings, gulping down the rest of the alcohol before slamming the glass down on the floor. The glass shattered into pieces, making Y/N jump at the sound. Her breathing was ragged, and pressure built up behind her eyes like a dam waiting to be cracked open.

“You’re a sick person” She spoke with distress, shaking her head. Melo shrugs with no sympathy. If he had a dollar for every time someone said that to him, he’d be a Rockefeller. “Everybody sick, I just have no problem showing mine, unlike the rest of society”

“Jesus Christ” she muttered, her head hanging low in regret. Karina was right all along, and she didn’t listen. If she did, she wouldn’t be in this position, her life in the hands of a man she didn’t even know. “Don’t act so sad. You’re gonna love me…or at least learn to. again, you’re smart”

“I don’t wanna love you. I wanna go home”

“You are home. Don’t be stupid” He spat, waltzing by her and picking up a blade from the floor, inspecting in. Y/N tenses up, Lamelo immediately noticing. He side eyes her with a slight smirk, mischief infesting his energy. “You think imma cut you, Y/N?” She kept quiet, but he continued to pry. “You think imma scar that pretty frame you got? What about this beautiful face?” He walks over to her, using the knife to swipe a box braid out of her vision. Y/N sniffles, taking a deep breath.

“Let. Me. Go”

“Or what?” Lamelo challenged, getting close to her as Y/N gave him a look, one he couldn’t make out or tell if it was anger. “You can’t do shit, I made sure. I tied you real good. Your friend thinks you went on vacation, so if you aren’t answering tomorrow, that just means you made it safe and you’re having fun. Maybe found yourself a fun fling that’s distracting that pretty mind. Somebody you invited up to your room” he continues, the tip of his knife swiftly making a cut into her gown with a quick swipe, making the thin fabric fall from the top of her body, pooling into her lap.She wanted to cover her naked body, but the rope restraints stuns her movements.

“Would you take me back to your hotel room, Y/N? I would have been a great candidate” the sadistic nature of him alone had her terrified, he could have done anything to her. She began shedding tears. She was exposed now, realizing the gown wasn’t even something she remembered wearing or buying, so he had to have put it on her himself when she was knocked out.

If he pulls the rest off, she was for sure fucked, no pun intended. He stares with no shame, the tip of his tongue grazing his plump bottom lip.

‘Fuck’

She attempts clenching her thighs together to stop the tingling, but it never subsided, and her brown nipples getting as hard as pebbles helped nothing. She wanted to keep a guard up so badly for her own safety, but the wetness coating the lips between her legs was telling her to do something else.

He notices how her legs were trying to move and her hips slowly circled, unintentionally trying to find a specific position to stimulate her clit. She couldn’t help it, she just wanted the tingling to stop. “Lemme help you wit’ that, ma” Melo smirks, putting his hand right under her soaked pussy. She stops immediately and lifts her butt as much as she can, feeling the warmth of his hand under her. She shakes her head ‘no’, but he nods a ‘yes’ and keeps his hand placed, kneeling on one knee in front of her. “Go ‘head” He says. The approval he gave her lingered in her head as the tingling intensified, giving her no choice but to fall into temptation.

Y/N hesitantly lowers herself down and begins to move against his hand, swirling, bouncing, and grinding down at the speed she wanted as her hips stuttered backwards every time his finger tips would swipe over her clit. She let out a stifled moan and threw her head back, rocking her hips faster as she felt herself climb closer to her end. Lamelo only fed her urges by bringing his hand up higher every time she’d raise her hips when the feeling got too strong, aiming to stimulate her clit through even the strongest parts of her orgasm. His dick was as hard as an iron pole in his pants now. It almost painfully pressing up against the material, the tip leaking precum just practically begging to be set free so he could fuck something, and soon it’d get its turn. Y/N could just see it through her eyelashes, she couldn’t help but look, it was so obvious.

Lamelo slides his fingers between her wet folds, collecting her slick to keep her clit wet while she used him as she pleased. “Speed up” he instructed.

✮✮✮✮

Fifteen minutes had passed and she had already came twice in the palm of his hands. Her seat was sticky and her thighs were wet, but Lamelo’s hand and arm were wetter. He slid his hand from under her and took a taste of what he had craved for so long. All of the timeless nights he had spent looking through her bedroom window, watching her feel, fuck, and taste herself, wishing he was there to catch every drop.

Feeling defeated, Y/N’s head lulls backwards as she rests her eyes on the ceiling above her. There was no other sound but the ringing frequency in her ear and the huffing of her breath trying to slow itself. She could hear her own heartbeat slowing too, just until the sound of wood creaking above them drowned the sound out. She pauses, her eyes shooting wide.

‘Who could possibly be here? could they help?’

Was what she began thinking as all the color from Lamelo’s face seemingly drained, his breath now still. Suddenly he reaches for the knife he held earlier, grabbing it from the floor and clutching it in his hand. Just in case someone had creeped down the stairs to the basement and witnessed what had been going on, he had no problem getting rid of whoever was responsible for ruining their moment.

The walking upstairs prologued, the hot tears that filled her eyes starting to flood her flushed cheeks as he placed a finger over her lips, signaling her to shut up. The cold blade of his knife pressed against the skin of her throat, so hard that she could practically feel her pulse and she was holding her breath purposely, scared the blade would cut her precious soft skin if she moved even an inch, and he cared less.

As the footsteps went away, distancing from them, he moves his hand. He lets out a much needed breath of relief and licks his lips, a smile growing on his face. “Roommate. Thought we were goners there for a second. You did good though, ma” He praises, standing from his crouching position. “I think you deserve a treat because of that”

Positioning his knife under the rope that held her feet in place, he looks up at her with a warning look before cutting both of her legs free. He walks around the chair and does her hands next, giving Y/N the room to rub her aching joints, feeling relief. Only one thought ran through her mind just then, and though she was tired from the recent back to back orgasms, she knew she only had one chance to get it right. So, she stood like a lamb taking its first steps, and took a run for it.

‘Please, please, please’

She pleaded in her head over and over again as she ran though the large basement, hoping to find an exit. Just as she had spotted a door at the end of a dark stairway, light of freedom shining through the cracks, her body jerked backwards and spun in the opposite direction, the miss placement of her sore feet being the reason why she hit the floor. The taste of iron filled her mouth from the gash on the inside of her lip, her teeth accidentally biting down on it as she went down.

She thanked god that carpet covered the floor or else she would have definitely knocked a tooth loose, and maybe lost one. “Run pretty fast for someone who’s been tied up for hours” He flipped her over so easily, prying her legs open so he could kneel between them. He admired her entire body as he held both her wrists down above her head with just one hand so he could capture them in a pair of cuffs, making sure she had no fighting chance this time. She couldn’t believe his hand was big enough to hold down both, and even with her struggling, he didn’t budge once.

✮✮✮✮

The take down was rough, but when he fucked, it was nothing like she expected. He slid his shaft along her clit, the pink bud erect and sticking out from her hood. He couldn’t stop himself from jumping against her pussy with excitement, the tip of his dick slapping the bottom of her belly with every bounce. He pulls his hips back, the tip of him now resting against her dripping entrance, ready to ruin her for the next, if Lamelo didn’t get to him first. “Stop..” She mutters, but deep down, she was really anticipating the contact.

Her sexual organs were completely against her once again, fogging her mind with thoughts of him she didn’t want and didn’t expect to have. She was forced to sit there, pondering on how he felt and how deep he could go inside of her, but she no longer had to wonder as he pushed his hips back forward to give her a taste of what she would be stuck with for the rest of her days.

He sunk into her slowly, her walls gripping him as a welcome upon entrance. He practically had to force himself inside with a drawn out sigh as Y/N sucks in air, both of them exchanging looks into their eyes before looking down at where they connected. Her stomach involuntarily sucks in, showing the bulge of his dick every time he thrusted forward with skill into her. The feeling deep down was so indescribable, so good that she almost cracked a smile. She hadn’t even noticed how much he was stretching her out, she was too busy feeling every inch of him.

Her eyes rolls back and her toes curled as she brought her legs back further for him, Lamelo smiling at how he didn’t even have to tell her to do so. He was just proud that she was learning, but she had much more to get down pact.

“Good girl…” he rasps.

“It’s so fucking deep” She whispers, her voice slightly hoarse from her throat being dry. As his hips tempo changed, the chains connected to her wrists made jingling sounds, making music with the clapping of their thighs joining in the harsher he got. He couldn’t tell if his bodies reaction to her was cause he hadn’t had sex in a long time or if she was just that damn tight. Meanwhile, YN was Lost in clouds of her own, feeling the repetitive push of Lamelo’s tip knocking against her g-spot, her own cream starting to slip out of her and drip down to her ass.

“This pussy grippin’” Melo compliments, one of his hands moving downwards to grip at the girls throat, making her tear up once again.

“Yeah? You like it?” She spoke breathlessly, the man above her nodding and laying a singular kiss on her lips, making her swoon momentarily before going back to her struggling whimpers.

“Mhmm, fuck” He moans. He never moaned, but he guessed she was changing him too.

“Call me daddy”

“Daddy!”

“Yeah, what’s my name?”

“Daddy! Fuck!”

“You so fuckin’ pretty, mamas” he groans out, almost whimpering as his dick pushed inside her further and further. She felt like he was trying to make her cervix a home for his dick with how deep he was going. Y/N began to think how they had gone too far for her to ignore how she was enjoying every bit of this. No matter how much she tried to tell her pussy to stop cumming for him, she continued, making the carpet under her soaked with her honey. Hours ago she wished her hands were untied to beat his ass, but now she wished they were uncuffed so she could trace his tattoos while he dug her out.

He was hitting spots that not even her ex man was hitting.

Using her thighs for leverage, he begins to fuck her in a push-up position, ramming his long dick directly into her coven, her walls squeezing him almost like she was showing thanks without words. Her juices made it easier for him to fuck her with no limit, slipping and sliding into her with no trouble apart from how tight she was gripping.

He didn’t hold off to cum either, he had already came twice, but he had more to give her and she had no choice but to take it. He was convinced he could imprint on her, and it was a bonus if his seed grew inside of her after all this hard work he put in. She was gonna stay with him, and he was gonna make sure of it.

✮✮✮✮

[beiasluv]

cillian murphy and his ‘daughter-figure’

a/n: i can never make myself write for people in real life with a romantic interest, sorry 😩 but i won’t deny to reading allat. no proof reads :)

enjoy!

cillian had taken you under his wings (awh) a long, long time ago

thankfully, christopher nolan approve of your acting and accepted you for a movie, allowing you to meet him for the first time

becoming the youngest constant actress to be featured in nolan’s multiverse

several years later, you are, once again, walking on the red carpet with your on screen ‘father figure’

oppenhiemer ofc

walking along the red carpet, camera flashed at you and your drop-dead gorgeous outfit for the event. making sure to look around to catch every news headlines, you see flo and emily waving at you. wasting no time, you rushed to your favorite girlies.

“hii,” flo and emily enveloped you into her embraces and kisses.

“my darling, y/n, how’ve you been?”

giggling about the latest girl talk, complimenting flo on her haircut and outfit, and a little bit sprinkle of girls touch up, a third hand wrapped around your shoulders and you turned around to see those set of blue eyes.

“cill!”

“hello, darling,” without a second thought, cillian smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. not too tight but not too insecure, just the perfect spot.

liked by florencepugh, roberdowneyjr, and others

yourinsta thank you. xoxo

cillian is just a sweet soul in general

he could get protective if you were rubbed off in a wrong way

if the interviewer ask weird questions, he won’t hesitate to throw hands

he also loves going out with you just for bonding purposes

movies, restaurants, or just going out with his kids

his wife definitely adores you

his kids definitely see you as their sister

a 100 percent some photo booths sessions with him

“ok, pose now!” you looked at the camera while making a serious face, which cillian mirrored. a funny face and a silly face precedes.

“how do you click this ancient photobooth? cill!”

liked by ynnumberonefan, florencepugh, and others

yourinsta thanks for paying for mi lunch ;)

jessepas NO WAY y/n convinced cillian to do photo booths with her

kanHK trust me! cillian def convinced her 😭

gagahi imagine getting your lunch payed by emily, rdj, cillian, matt, and JOHN?

ynwifie Y/N pleaseeee i can pay for your lunchhh

view all 48,922 comments

you are feeding cillian fans with post and pictures. (come on, we are starving)

dancing to tiktoks with cillian in the background smiling <3

you can never do interviews with cillian and never laugh

it. is. impossible.

he’s just very funny in private and ‘the’ dead face humor

“three, two, one, rolling!”

“hello- cillian,” chuckling as you see cillian staring off into the distance again.

“oh- hello,” he smiled. “i am cillian murphy.”

“and i am y/n l/n, and we are here for…”

what is your favorite scene with cillian?

“are we talking about oppenheimer or just everything?” you chuckled and took a swift glance at cillian who was grinning at you.

“just in anything, anything that comes to your mind”

“wow…” poking your tongue a little bit out while you were thinking. “i…don’t know…not- not because i don’t have one but it is a journey back, you know?” smiling at the interviewer.

“we take a long way back,” cillian added while he looked over to you. “i remember meeting her when she was just a little kid in the batman trilogy.”

“i- i was young, yes,” letting out a soft laugh, you thought again.

“um…I honestly don’t know which one to pick,” you chuckled. “i’ll say my favorite one is in inception, it just amazes me how cillian delivers his emotional, tear-jerking scenes, and we got to do a lot of amazing, humorous stunts.”

“cillian doesn’t take compliments very well, does he?”

the comment made you look over to your fellow actor and saw him smiling at you and shaking his head. you laughed and adjusted your position in the chair, “irish people doesn’t take it very well, he will just turn invisible if you keep complimenting him.”

are you going to go watch barbie?

cillian smiled and glanced slowly at you, “ask her.”

“a 100% will do. as a matter of fact, i already went to watch it,” you said proudly and giggled.

“oh really? how was it?”

“it was really, really good. i wasn’t expecting to cry but…you can ask him,” you pointed at cillian who couldn’t hold his chuckle in any longer.

“so you two went to watch it together? wow-”

“yes,” cillian smiled sheepishly. “a lovely movie, made y/n cried, very touching,” cillian chuckled.

“no spoilers but- the ending scene was super tear jerking but the end credits made me confused whether I should laugh or cry,” you laughed at your memories of going to watch barbie with cillian.

what do you have each other on the phone as?

“this is going to be so embarrassing,” you fake groaned and chuckled, while digging for your phone in your dress.

“also girls, this dress has pockets. amazing,” cillian and the interviewer gained a few chuckles. you fished out your phone and unlocking it with a few swipes, and opened the contact app, scrolling to the ‘c’ sections.

“i…have him as ‘cilly shelby’,” cillian went wide eyes and look at the screen of your phone.

cillian grinned and leaned back on his chair, “i saved her as y/n and a smiley face emoji.”

“aw what? that is so nice, i feel so bad now”

one thing about the person next to you?

“cillian, cillian, cillian. i would say he is very caring and an astonishing actor, performer,” you says while putting your hands to your heart.

“no- you are”

“irish modesty, people,” you faked rolled your eyes at him, while mockingly patting him.

“he’s great, just a very supportive…i wouldn’t say brother but i don’t wanna say father figure as well, even though we played a lot of father-daughter roles together,” you laughed at your own response, fixing your hair.

biting your lips, you pondered, “ah, i would say an…‘uncle figure’.”

“what?” cillian chuckled

“it’s someone you can have fun with and someone who you can look after to, for me,” you smiled while cillian cooed his response and gave you a side hug.

“that was very sweet,” he smiled. “i would say y/n is very sweet and brave soul, just someone who you meet and brightens your day.”

cillian cleared his throat and switched his crossing leg, “well, i have two boys but bonding with her will always be special to me, like the daughter i never had.”

“thank you christopher nolan for giving me a daughter,” he chuckled and gave you another side hug.

“aw, i’m going to cry”

last but definitely not the least. a random question from the audience, what is the hottest thing a man can wear?

laughters filled the room, rolling back in your chair, “wow, that was random.”

“i know right?” the interviewer chuckles and wiped a fake tears.

“i think we should ask the man,” you pointed your fingers at cillian and he shifted in his chair.

“wow…that really caught me off-guard,” cillian cleared his throat. “i would say a nice suit or a silk shirt.”

“definitely a black silk,” you added, gaining chuckles from cillian and the crews.

“for me…wow, it’s going to be really weird. I like men who wear watches, like the leather straps one,” you chuckled and hid your face in your palms.

“i definitely rubbed it on her, sorry,” cillian smiled and hid his watch as he crossed his arms.

“hey- yeah- maybe he did…ooo, ah, another thing is properly a teacher glasses, i don’t know man, it’s hot.”

“noted, guys, you’re welcome,” the interviewer says to the camera, cutting off the interview session.

if you like my work, feel free to like or reblog; if not, critiques are appreciated. today’s a great day to take care of yourself 🤍 lots of love.

[ominousvibez]

random dp x dc writing

i suddenly had an idea for a new dp x dc crossover fic, here's a piece of it!

🦇

“So much for movie night.” Tucker complains.

Sam groans, stretching her legs as Danny gets up, and transforms. The rings come easily to him now, unlike they had just a little more than two years ago. Their ghost-hunting tech had merely been discarded to the side after their patrol before they settled for the movie night.

“You guys can stay here.” Danny says, pushing himself into the air. “I told Skulker and Technus to pass along the message to the other usuals, but maybe somebody else didn’t get the memo.” The Box Ghost surely hadn’t; but, then again, the Box Ghost doesn’t usually get any news from the Ghost Zone. Or maybe he does, and he doesn’t care. Either way, the cardboard-loving menace was stuck in thermosland right now, and Danny wasn’t going to let him out until after they found out if Amelia would survive INVASION OF THE KILLER TEACHERS III: SCHOOL’S OUT or if she would become another zombie student.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll make it quick.” Danny allows himself to turn invisible and intangible, and slingshots himself through the roof of Sam’s house and into the sky. The clouds that had been moving in during their patrol clouded Amity Park in a dreary autumn rain. Leaves that had begun to turn were blown off the trees by the wind, and a distant rumble of thunder echoes in the distance.

Once upon a time, the storm would’ve terrified Danny. It would bring too many bad memories, of electricity burning through his skin, killing him and bringing him to life at the same time. But now, as a flash of lightning hit the sky, he can’t deny the surge of energy and delight in his core.

Stupid electric core.

“Ah! Sir Phantom!”

It isn’t one of his usual rogues for once. Instead, it’s a familiar face, and an ally. He calms down a bit at the sight of Lady Dorothea. He’s still a little annoyed that his movie night is being interrupted, but at least it’s by another friend.

Plus, he’s sure Lady Dorothea, who’s working hard at modernizing her kingdom, probably wouldn’t understand what a movie night was, anyway.

“Hey, Dorothea!” Danny drops his shoulders. He keeps himself intangible, feeling the rain fall through him. Lady Dorothea is intangible as well. “Is everything okay? Does your brother need to get his ass kicked into next week again?”

“No, not quite.” Lady Dorothea sighs. “I do need your assistance, but it is not for kicking any asses this time. Something… else has happened.”

“Something else?”

Lady Dorothea nods. “Yes. A few cycles ago, a newly-formed ghost stumbled into the castle gardens. My head gardener, Montagu, had found him stumbling through the hedges, and our healers were able to stabilize him before he could have faded, but then…” She bites her thumbnail nervously. A roar of thunder echoes around them. “… Sir Phantom, I believe he may be a halfa.”

Danny blinks at her. “Sorry, what? Did you say there’s another halfa?”

“Yes, I did— Sir Phantom, as far as my kingdom has come with modernization, I do not believe we have the capabilities of assisting a halfa, let alone one so young. I, no, we need your help, as soon as you are able to.”

A new halfa. Danny’s brain feels like it’s melting and spinning at the same time. He’d never encountered this before. Was that what Danny had felt? The new Halfa, forming? Or, well, maybe transforming for the first time, or something. He felt like pop-rocks were bursting under his skin, and he could feel a few stray sparks shoot off from his hands.

A new halfa.

[dyli-dadi3]

Kinktober

Day 4: Bloodplay

You're feeling a little spooky and decide to be a vampire for tonight.

Summary: You find yourself being the rock stuck in a hard place when Leon suffers an unexpectedly severe wound. Tags: Bloodplay, handjob, drinking blood, eating cum, blood as lube, mentions of gun wounds and guns, slight knifeplay if you squint

The two of you were an unconventional team, finding each other while roaming the RPD.

All it took were some close calls and silly jokes for you to become close with Leon. You enjoyed his little quirks, and he appreciated your ability to laugh with him. It was easy to cover each other’s back when a horde of zombies came, the two of you working seamlessly together.

Until Leon got shot.

You knew it was a bad idea to follow that “FBI Agent,” but Leon looked at you with those bright eyes of his, full of hope and naivety, and you had no other choice than to put your better judgment behind you.

You knew he thought she was sexy, I mean, who wouldn’t? Smooth voice, shiny hair, trenchcoat that leaves everything to the imagination, and those black stilettos that fed the flames. You got it, you truly did. But you couldn’t help the fact that it made you insanely jealous. You watched from behind as he walked with her, telling her all the silly things he used to whisper with a giggle to you.

But you’re not a bitch; you run to his side immediately when he drops to the ground with a groan, ignoring as Ada proceeds to engage in combat with Annette, running after her once she notices that Leon is being handled.

“Leon! Are you okay?” I asked frantically, hands hovering over his dazed form in case you hurt him more. He was the police officer, okay? You only knew how to hold a gun because your father taught you so the two of you could go hunting. You had no experience with human wounds. Knew how to mercy kill your prey and skin them, not apply a tourniquet or gauze.

Leon groaned, grabbing your attention. “Don’t worry about me, go with Ada and stop Annette.” The thought made your eyes roll. She could deal with it herself, that was her original plan anyway. And besides, she made it more than clear how she was always “saving his ass.” You were more focused on how his blood was staining his uniform, having a direct relationship with your anxiety. Watching the pool grow bigger wasn’t boding well for your mental health.

“I’m not leaving you alone like she did, look at you!” Your hushed whispers were drowned out by the hissing of pipes and the distant groaning of once-living civilians.

Leon’s head thuds against the concrete floor as he whimpers.

You froze, listening to the sweet sound as his words blur, your mind fixating on the noises he was letting out.

“Please…” Leon begged, snapping you out of your engrossment enough for you to realize he had given up and was asking for your help now.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll help you, Leon.” You said quickly, wracking your brain to remember everything you’ve seen from movies. Staunch the blood flow, clean and wrap the wound, elevate.

First, umm… find something to stop the flow…

You look around, noticing a tear in the bottom of your tank. Great, fabric rips in lines! You quickly tear off a strip from your tank, wrapping it around Leon’s shoulder in a makeshift tourniquet.

He groans again, tilting his head away. “I’m so sorry, Leon. But you’re going to be okay, you hear me?” You say sternly.

Who are you fooling? You have no idea if this isn’t serious. But hey, if he’s still responding, then that must mean something.

Second, clean and wrap….

This one was harder. If you took off any more fabric from your top, you would end up with a crop top, what could you use to clean it?

You eyed the knife Leon keeps on his person, a gift from his Lieutenant was what he had told you earlier. You gently grabbed it, using the blade to cut off the fabric covering his shoulder. You tried to ignore the growing heat in your core as Leon moaned when you used the makeshift rag to swipe away the blood. “Sorry, Leon… You’re doing so well. So good for me… just a little longer.” You praised, using the knife to remove the sleeve of his long-sleeve shirt, carefully making a thick strip of fabric to use later.

“I’m going to remove the bullet, I’m so sorry.” You whisper, talking the tip of the blade and digging it into the wound. You bit your lip as Leon started to squirm, soft wines falling past his lips as he fought back the urge to let out noises.

You dig it in deeper, knowing the bullet was still there since there was no exit wound. “Don’t be afraid, Leon. It’s okay to make noises.” You reassured him.

Of course, you had ulterior motives, you wanted to hear him whimper again, for him to moan and squirm for you.

He bit his lip and whined, scrunching his eyes closed as his back arched.

You squeezed your thighs together, watching as he moved underneath you.

He looked so pretty, mouth agape as noises slipped past those plump lips… This reaction was normal, right? After all, if this were in a porno, his noises would fit in without a second thought.

Maybe you were a freak… God. You’re staring at this poor man like a slab of meat, cutting him up like a surgeon who graduated through online school. You saw how the bullet finally clinked to the ground, your mind spread in a million different directions as you wiped the blood off his wound and wrapped it up with the fabric of his sleeve. Blood was everywhere, all over your hands, his arm, the floor. It was doing things to you that you wouldn’t like to admit. You felt like a creep, lusting over this man who was bleeding all over you. Jesus, you never thought a man could make bleeding out look so good.

You looked down at your hands covered in blood and bit back a sigh, rubbing the pads of your fingertips together and watching as the blood already began to thicken. Your eyes then trailed to those rosy lips of his, losing your willpower as your stained fingers began to trace the plush of his flesh. You saw how Leon gave you a confused expression, but he wasn’t protesting. That was all it took for you to continue the impromptu trail of blood along the softness of his jaw, the high contour of his cheekbones. You felt like an artist leaving paint strokes, the skin of Leon’s face akin to the canvas as he stared at you.

“Has anyone told you how attractive you are, Leon?” You asked softly, eyes finally leaving his now deep red skin to the clear blue of his eyes.

“U-Uhmmm, my ex-girlfriend called me cute once?” Leon said gently, not knowing why this was important. After all, he was in discomfort, and you were tending to his wounds a moment ago.

“That’s not enough,” you tutted, your hand on his chest now. “You need to know how much I want you right now.” You watched as his eyes widened, his cock kicking in his slacks.

“You like that? Having me all needy for you?” You smirked softly, trailing your hand down to palm his cock that was starting to fill out his boxers.

“Yeah…” Leon muttered, his hand coming up to cover his face. “Never thought you’d touch me.”

“You couldn’t see the way I’d ogle you?” You chuckled, squeezing him and enjoying the way he squirmed, the way your hand left a stain on his pants that would be tough to remove (if he got the pre stains out first). “Or the way I look at Ada like she’s the scum of the earth when you guys flirt?” I huffed, pressing down a little harder.

“No?” Leon said in shock, biting his lip to stifle a whine as you unzipped his pants, pulling him out of his boxers. He moaned softly as you began to pump him, globs of pre and blood mixing into a wet mess. All you could hear was the noises Leon made, and the wet noises as you jerked him off. The groans of zombies or the hissing of pipes went from the foreground of your attention to the background, nothing more than the tips of mountains far, far away on a foggy day. Blurred, muddled, nothing to the crisp sound of a whine ripped straight out of Leon as you squeezed his tip.

“Fuck, slow down. Feels t’good…” he protested, but his hips jerking told a different story. It was cute the way his body wasn’t listening to his brain, so desperate to cum that it didn’t want to wait. You were eager to listen to his body, you might as well make him cum if you’re using his blood as a lubricant. A sorry of sorts to make up for how you thought the red coating his length was so arousing.

“Why would I do that?” You decided to simplify the thoughts in your head, punctuating your retort with faster pumps up and down his cock. You were immediately rewarded with a trickle of pre, wetting the drying blood and helping your hand glide again.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, g'nna cum!" Leon whined, his face screwing up in the most adorable pout as his body suddenly went tense. Spurts of cum shooting from his flushed tip, balls squeezing as he moaned. You continued your ministrations, fascinated by the surreal beauty of the man before you. The only reason you stopped was for the tears you saw begin to run down his rosy cheeks, you could see him struggle to find the words to tell you to stop through the haze of blood loss and lust.

As Leon recovered, eyes closed and letting out shallow pants to grab his bearings, you took your messy hand adorned with pearly cum and crimson blood and tasted him. The sexual satisfaction was more than you would have ever thought, it was as if you were internalizing his soul. That was him you were consuming, like a mother who eats her placenta. His essence that gives him life, and then the one that gives life to others. Tangy and metallic, yet sweet, everything you adored and more. You're truly going to hell for this, aren't you?

"You taste good."

"..."

"...What?"

[enluv]

love spill !

PAIRING! - rockstar!jay (enha) x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k+

warnings: angst-ish but not really + fluff later !!, reader is stressed/exhausted, profanity, slow burn(?)

coco’s ♡ note: this came from a mini game I answered once and literally could not get over because I need rockstar bf jay so badly, I might make more with this jay too so let me know if you like it or have any rockstar!bf jay thoughts because I will indulge and write them !!! literally adore this jay so much ahhhh!!!

Finally.

Finally some piece and quiet away from the shared apartment you live in with the three younger boys.

Perhaps living with your younger brother and his university friends wasn’t the best idea, especially when you had a ten page journalism report due by three pm the next day.

That’s why you find yourself here on a hot summers day sitting in your favorite cafe, it’s not busy on Fridays and is hidden enough so the boys won’t find you for a while, but they will come looking eventually.

The bell of the cafes door rings to signify it being opened but this report is due tomorrow and you can’t stop to look up, but maybe you should have. Maybe you should have because now as you watch the hot brown liquid seep into your laptops keyboard you become painfully aware of the boy in front of you who’d walked in early wearing the most guilt ridden expression. His words muffled as you watch your screen go black.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m so sorry. Wait here let me get something to clean this up.” He’s fumbling with the other drinks in his hand as he tries to reach for napkins to clean the spill he’s made.

Where else would you go really? Right now you’re just waiting for the ground to swallow you whole. Had the program even saved the other three pages you’d written? Was your hard work gone just like that? Would your professor even believe you if you told him what happened? Even if it sounded straight out of a movie?

“Just leave it, I’ll clean it myself. Please leave.”

He stills at your words, no malice or emotions within them just exhaustion. The tone of your voice makes his heart ache, and he swears to himself that he’s going to make up for this for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry for this really, I need to leave because I have a schedule to get to but I promise I’ll make this up to you. Can I have your number?”

Your stare makes him feel small, then he realizes how his question sounds after a minute passes between you two.

“Wait I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not asking you out. Not saying I wouldn’t ask you out but I’m not doing that right now! I just need it so I can text you to pay you back, or I can pay to get your laptop fixed. I’ll send you the money or even if you want buy you a new one.”

Jay can’t tell what you’re thinking but somehow he’s walking out of the cafe with your phone number and an assortment of drinks for his members. Dreading having to explain to them just what happened in the cafe.

unknown (2:46pm):

uh hey this is jay, I’m the one who dropped my coffee on your laptop, really sorry about that by the way!! um i want to give you these so I can say sorry again in person because my mom always said to apologize face to face or you don’t mean it and also that way we can figure out the laptop money thing together.

unknown (2:47pm):

four attachments sent

just stop by tomorrow and have some fun and then after I’ll come find you and we can talk!! what’s your name by the way?

you (3:12pm):

it’s y/n. thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow.

“I cannot believe some random dude gave you tickets to see downfall, like this show has been sold out for months and I mean months, talking eight months and he just gave up four tickets to see them? He must be loaded! Tell him you want a new computer and game console, I want the newest version.”

Jungwon’s excited rambles bring a smile to your face, sure just yesterday you’d cried almost all the water out your body until Jungwon had called your professor and explained in detail (along with sticking the phone in your room so he could hear your cries) the situation, but he’d also somehow gotten you an extension on your paper for the next week. He seriously deserved the random concert tickets the stranger, Jay, had sent you.

Receiving them was odd but he’d convinced you with the promise of fixing your laptop and that’s honestly all that mattered, so if you had to sit through a three hour long show next to some stranger who spilled coffee on your laptop then so be it because you’d be getting it fixed no matter what.

Except instead of said random stranger sitting next to you, an actual random stranger stood beside you excitedly yapping with her friends and the random stranger you had expected was perched on stage with a guitar in hand, microphone stationed in front of him like it belonged to him, and soon enough you’d realize from the crowds hollers that it did belong to him.

“ARE YOU READY FOR TONIGHT?” He’s met with screams all around the arena.

“That’s what I like to hear, alright let’s go.”

The shock of who Jay was really didn’t cease even after the show had ended and the four of you began to walk out the packed venue, it doesn’t really go away until a large man comes to escort you backstage.

“Hey buddy I think you have the wrong people, we’re just here still because my sisters waiting for someone.” Jungwon’s voice breaks you out of your shock and the man nods as if he knew what he was going to say.

“Yeah he’s backstage, just follow me.”

Jay fidgets with the bag he has in his hands, earlier he’d dragged the boys along with him to pick you out a new laptop and even threw in a new case and holder for it. He really wanted to get the image of your exhausted eyes out of his mind, he wanted to see you happy and healthy.

“Y/N you didn’t tell us the guy who spilled coffee on you was one of the members of downfall,” the voice he hears is failing to whisper as you get closer.

“Are we about to meet one of the members? What if it’s just like a staff or something like why would an actual member be getting their coffee and oh my god that’s the lead singer Jay.”

He laughs shyly at the boy who’s mouth is now wide open pointing excitedly at him, but he quickly shuts up as he spots you. You look so pretty, completely different from when he’d last saw you drenched in coffee and exhaustion all over your face. Right now you looked content and really really pretty.

“Hey Y/N, I know I said I’d give you the money to fix your laptop but I thought you should just have a completely brand new one, I’m really sorry for spilling my coffee on yours, I’m sure you were busy and needed it, I hope you can use this new one well,” his breath hitches as he holds out the bag to you and your fingers touch briefly, “and I hope you liked the show, I see your friends did.” He sends a wave their way and laughs when they all excitedly wave back.

A smile begins to develop on your cheeks and his heart races. This is exactly how he’d like to see you, happy and smiling.

Later that night as you pull out the new laptop determined to finish your nearly complete paper, a small card flutters out with it that reads —

“I wrote this to say not only sorry again, but to also ask if you’d like to go out with me sometime? and I mean it this time, as in I am actually asking you out unlike last time when I, you know accidentally asked you out unintentionally, this time I promise it’s intentional. Please let me make up the god awful first meeting we had, I promise it’ll be worthwhile. You have my number so if you want to then just shoot me a text but if not then that’s fine with me too! – Jay”

A smile forms on your face as you set down the card and get to working on your essay, the answer to Jay’s proposition already clear in your mind. Yes.

coco’s love note: i am so terribly down bad for jay it’s crazy. he’s so just perfect like I adore him so much!! and I’m the biggest rockstar!jay enthusiast like I just had to write something about it, plus I think it’s so adorable how he’s clumsy in this fic but a crazy rager on stage & only mc gets to see both sides of him fully! I hope you enjoyed this fic! As always, feedback & reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading <3

enhypen taglist?! @en-fvr @bloom-bloom-pow @nikis-mum @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spoooooooooooon @enhacolor @yoongimooni @blaqpinksthectic @gyuuss @eternallyhyucks @dinosdance @simpforsung @misschubswrites @junityy @jjunry @jwonsgirl @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @bobariki @vatterie (bold can’t be tagged!) Wanna be added to the taglist? – Check out THIS post!

[bb-eilish]

beomgyu drabble

pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader

A/N; writing this was therapeutic. Also this is NOT proofread, i just felt like writing short beomgyu romance. Writing this has me wondering about a drabble serious about boyfriend! beomgyu who’s absolutely whipped for the reader.

——————————————————————

“you’re not watching the movie very well.” He mumbles, deep voice becoming slightly raspy. Even staring at the opposite side of his face, you know he’s smirking.

He was right though, yea you might’ve brought up the idea of watching a movie, but how could you when he looked so divine. Even after dating him for more than a year it’s like you’re in high school and have a heart-crushing infatuation with him. Even more so now, with how the dim lighting in the living room mixes with the light of the tv against his skin.

You can’t deny it. “Sorry, you’re side profile is so pretty.” You mumble back, not ashamed of your feelings. His smile becomes wider and wider until he’s drops his head with a charming smile skirting across his lips. A warm chuckle escaping him as well.

Turning his head slightly to look at you, you basically melt into the couch when your eyes meet. He has such a way of getting your heart rate up with a simple glance. “I think you’re pretty, y’know that?” His smile boils down to a soft one as he gazes at you more intently. Beomgyu scoots closer and wraps a hand sweetly around your waist, relishing in the feeling of being so close to you.

His other hand runs slowly up to your cheek, cradling your head. The thumb that is currently on your skin trails down to your lips, tracing the bottom one carefully. You both let out a sigh at the affectionate touch.

“God, what’re you doing to me, Y/n. I’ve known you for so long but it feels like we just met.”

You don’t say anything, only stare back at him with a certain look in your eyes. He knows this look, thinks about it every time he’s able to. It knocks the air out of his lungs when he thinks about how your eyelashes always look the softest when you narrow your eyes sexily at him. He could count each and every one and never get bored.

Beomgyu leans ven closer, lips ghosting over each other teasingly as he smirks once again. His eyes ogle your face, but mainly settle on your oh so inviting lips. Especially when the thumb tracing the skin presses down on your bottom lip and lets it spring back up. He can’t hold himself together anymore, even less when you let out the quietest “beomgyu.”

You’ve kissed him many times but it will always fascinate you how much you enjoy doing it with him. Your ex’s felt kind of off, but with Beomgyu it’s like everything is finally right in the world. His lips push onto yours harder and you respond by drifting a hand up his thigh.

The kiss naturally becomes more lust filled as time passes and he finds himself breaking away for a second, only to go back in and lean you down onto your back. The tv in the back long gone by now.

“You’re my prettiest girl, mm, i love you so much.” He whispers hotly against your lips, warm, large, hands trailing up your loose shirt to gently grip the skin of your torso. It’s difficult but you’re able to let out a “need you” inbetween his attack on your face. He chuckles in response and replies, “Yea, baby? You need me? Of course you do, pretty girl. I got you though, I’ll take care of you.”

———————

I’m sorry if this is bad, i’m so tired but had so many ideas in my head about romantic gyu.

[loveroffictionalmen]

hey i have a request and its fine if you dont do it cause its a little different to your others! y/n is in a movie with scar, lizzie and flo, y/n sh’s but the others dont know that but one day they see the cuts on y/n’s wrist. i lovee your other oneshots btw

One Day At A Time

Pairings: Scarlett Johansson x gn!reader, Lizzie Olsen x gn!reader, Florence Pugh x gn!reader

Description: After a long day on set, y/n doesn’t notice their scars are visible.

Warnings: TW DO NOT READ THIS IF IT WILL MAKE YOU RELAPSE!!! self harm, mention of scars, angst, lots of comfort.

Words: 900

Prompt: Person A has scars and person B finds out about them

A/N: First of all, thank you for the love, I truly appreciate it! You all mean so much to me! I hope you enjoy, and like I’ve said before, my DMs are always open <3

It was weeks, nearly days since y/n had last self harmed. In all honesty, they were doing better than they had in a while. Since being cast in the up and coming Marvel television series, a spinoff of the Avengers, they had felt better. Happier.

They were with some of their best friends. Scarlett was like a mother to y/n, Lizzie and Florence were like sisters. They had become a family, the four of them. And since they were so close and spent so much time together, y/n barely even thought about self harming.

Of course the urge would come back once and awhile. But that wasn’t the problem. It was the scars. Y/n’s scars weren’t the freshest, but they were definitely still there. Their makeup artist who had been with them since the beginning knew how to cover them up, so no one else on set really knew about y/n’s scars. And it wasn’t like y/n’s costume was extremely revealing anyways.

Y/n sat in their trailer, finishing up their hair and zipping up the last bits of their costume.

“You almost ready babes?” Scarlett knocked on the door of the trailer.

“Yeah! I’ll be out in moment!” Y/n called.

“Good! We got you coffee,” Y/n could practically hear Florence wink.

“Thank you!”

When y/n had finished getting ready, they opened the door to their trailer and was greeted with three smiling faces and four cups of coffee. And a croissant, of course, Florence’s favourite.

“Director wants us in the studio by 8, if we run we can make it.” Lizzie said.

“Jesus Christ, why did no one tell me? Its 7:57!” Y/n’s face went pale.

“Run!” Florence yelled, taking off into a sprint, completely forgetting to give y/n their coffee.

Y/n looked down at their phone. 10:37 pm. They had been on set for nearly 15 hours, and all y/n wanted was to go back to their hotel room and sleep. Y/n barely noticed the lack of makeup on their forearm when they and the girls were walking back to their trailers.

“I didn’t know they added scars to your character. When did they do that?” Lizzie asked out of the blue, nodding towards y/n’s arm.

Y/n cocked their head for a moment, confused as to what Lizzie was talking about.

“Wait yeah, those are badass!” Scarlett added on.

The four reached the trailer section of the set. And it hit y/n. They were talking about their self harm scars.

“I-” Y/n started, too shocked to be able to form a sentence. Florence’s face was the first to drop. She smacked her hand over her mouth and whispered a muffled, “Lizzie.”

Lizzie realized within a split second, as did Scarlett. Scarlett was the first to speak.

“Oh baby, c’mere.” She said, holding her arms out for a hug. Y/n stood for a moment, then collapsed into Scarlett’s arms. Florence and Lizzie enveloped y/n in a big hug and the four were silent for a minute.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. If I had known I never would have said anything” Lizzie said when they broke apart.

Y/n stayed silent.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Florence said, taking y/n’s hand in hers.

Y/n was still silent. Then they took a deep breath.

“I don’t know. I just, I struggle sometimes. I’ve never been like, officially diagnosed or anything, but,” Y/n looked at their faces. Each one of them was focused entirely on them. “I just feel like there’s no way out sometimes. So I...” Y/n trailed off, gesturing to their arm as a conclusion to their sentence.

“Oh hun, I’m so sorry you have to go through that. That’s awful.” Lizzie said.

“It’s okay.” Y/n said, tears threatening to fall from their eyes.

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t have to go through that. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone a beautiful soul like yours,” Scarlett said. She took y/n’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’re here for you love, no matter what.”

Florence had stayed silent the whole time. It was confusing to y/n, Florence usually was the most supportive out of the three girls.

“Hey guys, can I just talk to y/n alone real quick. We’ll meet up with you after.” Florence asked.

“Yeah of course, we’ll see you back at the hotel?” Scarlett said.

Florence nodded, watching the two girls leave and then turning her attention to y/n.

“I understand how you feel.” Florence said.

“Thank you,” y/n said, not really realizing what Florence was really saying.

“No I mean, I really understand.” Florence stayed silent and looked at y/n. Y/n searched Florence’s eyes. And it clicked.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Y/n said.

“Why? It’s been ages and I’m not ashamed. They’re my battle scars. I know it sounds cliche, but I went through a lot a couple years ago, and I like to think of them as a sign that it gets better. How long has it been?” Florence explained.

“Two weeks,” Y/n said.

“Two weeks is amazing y/n!” Florence watched as y/n smiled sheepishly. “Look, I’m not going to tell you to come to me whenever you feel like doing this, or tell you to bring me what you use or whatever you’ve heard before. Just take it one day at a time. Okay?”

“Okay.” Y/n said.

“I love you, y/n. We all do.”

[ajokeformur-ray]

would love it if you posted more self shipping stuff and i’m sure others would!

ahhh i’m not much of a writer as yourself, i like to daydream but think it always sounds clunky and poorly thought out when i put it into words so forgive me hahah - my story happens post movie though!

after arthur was put away and his flat was put on the market i moved in not knowing it was his! i kept getting his mail sent to me and was determined to do right and get it sent on to him (i’m stubborn like that about admin lol) what i thought would be a simple task turned into an increasingly complicated mission of trying to find a forwarding address, plus my curiosity grew about who this previous tenant was when all the neighbours spoke about him so evasively. i eventually am able to track him down to arkham! it took such a hassle to find him, so instead of just dropping the post off with the officials, i ask to meet the man so i can put a personality to him (by this point i’m shocked to find out this “arthur fleck” is the same man as the “joker” on the news a few months ago) we meet (through the usual prisoner visit way) and i, slightly embarrassed, explain i just wanted to return his mail to him and he’s both incredibly touched and lightly bemused that a total stranger would go through such effort to sort out such an inconsequential thing for him just because it’s the “right” thing to do. with the silliness of the situation, the ice is kind of broken and we talk a little bit. when it’s time for me to go, he asks if i’ll come see him again (sweet thing doesn’t get any visitors outside of the occasional nosey journalist) and because i’m lonely in this new city and he seems sweet i say yes! and the rest… becomes history! (i also have an alternative version of my story that’s more joker centric than arthur centric where i’m still the new tenant in his old apartment, and joker breaks out of arkham and is surprised to find a stranger living in his home haha)

sorry that’s so waffly and clunky! but you inspired me to share!

I do need to get back into writing and self-shipping, life is... So much right now, it's actually TOO MUCH, but tonight you've made me remember what actually makes me happy -community engagement on here, loving Arthur, and writing 🩷🥺 all things I thought I'd forgotten how to do. So will definitely be sharing more in future!!!

This doesn't sound clunky or poorly thought out???!!! It flows so beautifully and I can really see the drive to return Arthur's mail to him and trying to find out who he is. I loooooove the idea of living in his apartment after him; Anderson Ave is infamous now and the apartment you're in had a body left in it to rot for who knows how long (probably a few hours once Joker killed Murray so I doubt Randall's corpse was left in Arthur's home for long🤢), and just being surrounded by his home before you've even met???? Talk about home being where your heart is🥺🥺🥺

God, this is so gorgeous and I can really see it happening!!!! Thank you for taking the time to share this and write it out 🥺🩷 AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON JOKER HASDFGHJKL 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😍😍😍😍😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[sunflowerbecca]

jiara week 2023 ✰ based on a book/movie/show

summary: a hunger games au; when jj ends up in an unfavourable situation, kie appears to help just in time

notes: day 5!! this is more of an au based on what happens to rue, sorry in advance for the angst...

warnings: major character death, blood, angst, depictions of violence, the use of way too many commas, also potential THG spoilers?

word count: 749

A piercing scream cuts through the forest, echoing across the arena. Kiara abruptly turns towards it as her eyes widen in terror. She knows that voice. The girl takes off, her boots pound against the forest floor as she sprints with all her might. Stumbling over various rocks and tree roots manipulatively placed by the gamemakers in an attempt to delay her arrival.

“Kie! Help!” A brief pause, “Please!”

The girl arrives at the scene, immediately stopping to process what’s in front of her. JJ is there, trapped under a large net. His leg is twisted in a snare as he is flat on his back on the dirt below.

“Kie! Get me out!” He says breathlessly as he notices the girl, effort exerted from escape attempts.

Kiara quickly releases the knife from the sheath connected to her pack and drops to her knees with a dull thud. Cutting through the thick rope is no quick feat but the boy is released soon enough. The pair stands, breathing heavily, and Kie quickly scans him over for injuries. 

JJ takes a step forward with his hand out but it stills in the air. A muted noise sounds and time stops. The pair both look down as blood begins to appear on the boy’s beige t-shirt. It is slow at first, starting as a mere trickle, but the pool grows larger as it sticks to the boy’s skin and shirt. A large wooden shaft is between them. The 6 foot long spear is suspended in mid air as the spearhead is lodged deep inside JJs abdomen.

Suddenly, Kiara looks up, in the direction the weapon appeared from. A boy stands with a smirk on his face, reeling from his supposed kill. However, his satisfaction does not last long. Kie manages to throw the knife that remains in her hand in his direction, and it lodged deep in his chest. The boy drops to the ground. He is still breathing but the hit will slowly kill him. How ironic, she thinks, how a weapon used to save can also be used to kill.

She turns back to JJ, who has a white knuckled grip on the spear as he slowly pulls it out. There’s a brief noise as it hits the forest floor, but it is overpowered by the boy falling to his knees. Kie tries to keep him upright but it is no use. He has become dead weight and slumps to his side before rolling on his back.

“No! No, no, no. It's gonna be okay. Okay? It’s fine!” Kie applies pressure to the wound with her bare hands.

“It’s okay. I was never going to win anyway.” JJ says quietly, slightly smiling up at the girl.

“No, it’s not fine. We’re gonna get a sponsor, yeah? And you’ll be fine and you’re gonna make it out of here.”

“Kie.”

“It can’t be that bad i’m sure it’s fine it’s-”

“Kie, please.” The girl stops and finally looks at him.

“It’s okay. I accepted that I was going to get you out of here. It’s your job now to win this. Win it for us.”

She starts crying, tears falling down onto the bloody shirt below. She reaches down and hugs him the best she can. One of his arms moves slightly around her in the awkward position.

“Promise me you’ll win?” He mumbles, eyes drooping and words slurring.

“I promise I will. I’ll win for us.” The boy smiles at her, staring right back at her eyes. 

“Thank you.” He whispers, as a drop of blood begins to roll down his cheek from his mouth. His eyes leave hers and move toward the sky above. He blinks once, twice, before he takes his last shuddering breath and his arm falls slack against her side. The cannon sounds.

“No, no, no!” The girl cries out. She shakes the boy in an attempt to wake him up even though she knows it’s a lost cause. Her sobs echo in the arena. Her hands run through her hair trying to process what’s truly happened.

All of a sudden the sound of the cannon for the other tribute startles her out of her grief. She can’t let his death be for nothing. She turns to look at the boy one last time. Kneeling down she plants a kiss on his forehead and brushes his hair back before standing again.

“This is for you, Jayj. I’m gonna win this for you. And they’re never gonna see it coming.”

my work is my own and i do not consent for it to be copied, reposted, translated, or shared on any other platform. please respect my wishes.

[notallthoseinheadspace]

Since this AU is now stuck in my head I’ll dump a bit more here.

- They both have doctorates - Phee grew up watching Indiana Jones movies and idolized him, and even when she got old enough to realize that actual archeology is Not Like That it was still her passion. She probably started by finding something small that had been important to her family but lost/stolen/sold ages before and buying (or stealing, depending on how whoever had it got it) back.

A lot of the major *coughBritishcough* museums hate her because she’s very vocal about the need for repatriation of stolen artifacts and education/funding to help the cultures the artifacts originated from preserve, protect, and display them themselves.

I feel like Tech has a kind of niche natural sciences doctorate like entomology. He also has a pilot��s license and a small plane, although he’s certified for helicopters and pretty much everything else. Sometimes he flies for Search and Rescue missions with his brothers. (They’re all ex-military, natch.) His fascination with insects led to both his love of engineering and of flying because that was the natural conclusion of going ‘how do they do that?’ at every cool flying bug for a small child with an off-the-charts IQ.

Tech and Phee first met when he was called in to consult on some weird bug thing she had found going on in an excavation, Tech was fascinated, and Phee listened to him infodump for hours and learned a truly astonishing amount about bugs.

Tech would have thought it was just a weekend with a friendly and intelligent fellow professional but Phee kept emailing him with new bugs and interesting things she found, and letting him infodump and asking intelligent questions that invited him to infodump *more* and by the time they exchanged cell numbers and were regularly spending hours chatting about incredibly random things one or the other had turned up in their current project/research Tech realized she was actually a very close friend.

When the museum Phee worked for expanded she suggested him straightaway for the position and he was offered the job. It wasn’t so far from his current house that he would have to move, it was stable and interesting work, that wants him to do lectures and understands if he needed to go running off to a disaster area to help out for a few days (shortly they had to understand him and Phee running off, because spending time together and helping people? Yeah, you just try keeping her away.)

His family meets her that way - they have a small ranch outside the city where they raise and train horses - stuff like packing trips, Search and Rescue, etc - as well as run S&R courses for people. They get contracted to do group training so the ranch probably also has a bunkhouse. Some extended family members/old military friends drop by randomly to visit/help teach/take a free vacation and ride horses around. (Crosshair is notorious for giving whichever family member that he’s currently most pissed at That One Horse that they can never sell because he’s perfect in every way except the fact he bites like a sonofabitch to ride when they drop by. Rex has been assigned That Horse once, Cody never, Wolffe every single time.)

Omega always talks about how happy she is for Tech and Phee, but it’s not until Crosshair (only half-sarcastically) asks when Tech is planning to propose that Tech actually realizes he and Phee are. Y’know, a Thing. It’s one of the few times the entire family has seen him at a complete loss for words.

They do get married, eventually, although I suspect Tech attempts to propose, gets conversationally derailed out of nerves, and Phee is the one who asks the actual question.

He takes her name, because why not?

Checking into some hotels/conferences becomes a bit of a comedy sketch thereafter -

Receptionist: ‘Okay, Mrs Genoa -‘

Tech: ‘Doctor.’

R: ‘Sorry, Doctor and Mr.-’

Phee: ‘Doctor and Doctor. Doctors Genoa.’

(Depending on how apologetic the person is, they will either be told ‘it’s fine, it happens all the time’, or subjected to a long lecture on racism, sexism, systemic inequality, and the need to overcome biases inherent in society and education from Tech, while Phee leans on the counter and watches him, because that’s how she first fell in love - just listening to him talk.)

TBB Modern AU! hc - Tech and Phee are coworkers at a small history/science museum. Every time Phee notices Tech is seriously stressing or overstimulated, she asks him to ‘try out’ a stim toy (infinity cube, linked rings, fidget popper, etc) that she’s thinking of giving an autistic nibling. She has a desk full of toys that she rotates through.

It takes Tech a while to catch on that she’s observant enough to notice his moods and kind enough to gently helping him decompress without being pushy or forceful like his brothers are.

[makethatelevenrings]

Story Time // J. Todd x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: none!

Summary: Jason became a frequent patron at the local library a few months ago and struck up a friendship with you, a librarian. Things change when you need an assist in a time of need.

A/N: after watching my roommate play all of Gotham Knights as Jason, I have come to appreciate this big himbo appearance of him and I would be the big spoon to him always

“I’m looking for this book. It had a red cover and was about lions, I think?”

Jason had to cover his mouth to silence his laugh at the other library patron’s question. The blank look on your face wasn’t making it any easier. You sighed, almost imperceptibly, and plastered a smile on your face.

“Are you perhaps thinking of elephants? Water for Elephants?”

“Is that the one with the Twilight guy in the movie?”

“Yes, that is Robert Pattinson.”

“Perfect! Thanks.” The patron darted off to the adult fiction section, leaving Jason at the head of the line. A smile, a real smile, spread across your face at the sight of him. Jason had become one of your favorite patrons ever since he came in to get a card three months ago.

“I’m looking for a book,” he teased. ���It’s got a purple cover and I saw it once eight years ago.”

“Please don’t,” you groaned as you dragged his stack of books towards you. “They seriously think I can mind read.”

Jason chuckled and leaned against the counter. “Hey, you’re pretty good at figuring out what they ask for so…”

“You’re thinking about the shawarma food truck over on Davidson Avenue.”

He cracked a grin. “Damn, you really are a mind reader. Not my fault that it’s got the best hummus in town.”

“And tzatziki sauce.” You nodded as if he gave you some kind of sage advice. Your nimble fingers swiped the books under the beaming red laser, eliciting a chirp from the computer before you. You paused at the final book at the stick and raised an eyebrow.

“It’s for my brother,” Jason said in explanation. You studied the children’s picture book about different types of birds.

“How old is he?”

“...Twenty-seven.”

You snorted at his answer and scanned it into the system. Pushing the books across the desk towards him, you opened your mouth to ask a question but he waved you off.

“Don’t need it. I’ll have these books back by next week, I guarantee it.”

You winked. “I’ll be holding you too that, Mr. Todd. See you next week.”

He was back precisely seven days later with all the books read and finished, including the picture book that Dick had strangely enjoyed and poured over it with Duke and Cass. Damn, Jason would need to think of a better way to embarrass a man who willingly wore a v-neck spandex suit with a mullet.

You were behind the desk, as per usual, but there was a wide-eyed panicked expression on your face that he hated to see. Jason bypassed the shelves, tossed the books he was returning into the drop off bin, and headed straight towards you.

“Hey, hi, sorry,” you blurted out when you saw him approach. “Our children’s librarian has the flu and one of the main librarians fell on ice and broke her ankle yesterday so it’s just me and Denise and she’s currently trying to get holds ready and-”

“Breathe,” he ordered. His voice came out sharper than normal, much more like his Hood voice, but it did the trick. Your jaw snapped shut and you blinked up at him, surprised that it worked.

“Deep breath in. Hold. Out.” Jason coached you through that once and then flattened his palms against the counter. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered once you were more stable. “We just have a reading event planned today and so many parents RSVP’d. Our library doesn’t get a ton of funding from the city because they think Bowery kids don’t need the same amount of resources as other neighborhoods since these kids aren’t expected to get out of here, but they deserve a fighting chance, y’know?”

You groaned and buried your head in your hands. Your voice was thick with tears and stress and frustration. “I’m going to have to cancel it.” Miserable. You sounded miserable.

“I can read to them,” he said. Jason immediately cursed himself out mentally the second the words tumbled from his mouth, but he couldn’t retract them now. Your head raised from your hands and he caught the spark that lit up in your eyes. It eased the discomfort a bit. Hell, he’d kill to make sure he never saw you panic like that again.

“Oh, can you?” Hope lined your voice right now and he shrugged.

“Sure. I used to read to my little brother.” He wouldn’t mention it was because Damian was incredibly docile thanks to being on heavy duty pain meds and the book in question was The Art of War.

You bounced away from the desk and rounded it, appearing at his side with a bright grin on your face. Your smaller hand enfolded itself around his and he almost choked on the warm, soft touch of your skin. Jason didn’t have time to pull himself together before you were tugging him towards the brightly painted children’s section.

Ratty bean bags and threadbare rugs dotted the floor. Jason understood what you mean by lack of funding. He made a note to guilt Bruce into donating a few thousand to this library and the local schools.

You ushered him over to a small plastic chair seated at the front of the room. “Okay, the reading doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, but I figured you could take that time to get familiar with the books. We have The Colors of Us, A Boy Like You, and King for a Day. Oh, shit, shoot.”

You cast a glance nervously over your shoulder at the two kids sitting quietly with books in hand over by the window. Jason repressed a snort of laughter and you rolled your eyes.

“Listen, I focus primarily on the adult books. I’m not a children’s librarian.” Despite your protest, you chuckled at your slip up. “We also have a book in Spanish, because we have a large bilingual community and Mary wants to include as many kids as she can. Next month we’ll have someone who speaks Korean, and then the month after that it’s Bengali, but-”

“Breathe,” he ordered again. You inhaled deeply to match his pattern and then slowly exhaled, a small smile flitting across your face.

“I speak Spanish,” he assured you. Jason picked up the book from the small pile and studied it for a second. “La Llama Llama Rojo Pijama. Yeah, I can easily read this.”

God, you were practically beaming. You bounced on your toes and then leaned forward, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you so much, Jason! You’re a lifesaver.”

Well, hell, that might be the first time he’s been called that.

Kids began to stream in with fifteen minutes to go. Exhausted parents looked positively grateful for an opportunity to explore the library and take some time for themselves as a small army of thirty or so elementary schoolers settled on the worn seating around Jason. They stared up at him expectantly and Jason Todd, someone who had faced down the likes of Killer Croc and Bane before was sweating bullets under the scrutiny of these little terrors.

But then he glanced up and saw you standing at the edge of the bookshelves to the kids area, a cart of books pressed against your hip as you stocked the shelves, and he suddenly felt at peace.

“Alright, kids, my name is Mr. Jason and today we’re starting off with A Boy Like You. Which, hey, it’s good you’re all learning about how fu- messed up toxic masculinity is at this age. Lemme tell you, that sh- stuff will control your life.” He propped the book open on his knees, ensuring that it mainly faced the crowd. “Can we all see the pictures? Are we good?”

The crowd of heads nodded and he dove into the story.

Jason liked it a lot more than he thought he would. He raised his voice when the books crested into exciting moments and he lowered his voice into a deep bass when dramatic moments occurred. The kids squealed and shrieked as he used funny voices along with animal characters. By the time he finished the final book, a smile had found its way on his scarred face.

“Alright, time to go,” one mother announced. She and her wife thanked Jason, but their son bounded right up to him and wrapped his little arms around the vigilante’s legs. Jason froze for a moment before he leaned down to pat him on the back and then direct him towards his moms.

“Thanks, Mr. Jason!” the little boy exclaimed. As the kids all darted away to tell their parents about the books, you sidled up next to Jason.

“I can’t thank you enough. Seriously,” you gushed. “And you were so good at it!”

He shrugged, heat rising to his cheeks at your praise. “It was nothing.”

“Please,” you brushed off his humility. “Let me buy you a drink after my shift as a thanks.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you buy me a drink,” he said quickly and immediately regretted it once he saw your face fall. “I mean, we can get drinks, but Alfred would kill me if he knew I didn’t pay for your drink.”

“Alfred?”

Jason chuckled and ran a hand down his face. Truly, you might be the only person in Gotham who didn’t know who he was.

“What time do you get off work?” Changing the topic was the safe idea for right now. He could explain later.

“In about four hours. I’d hate to make you wait so long. I can just meet you later or-”

Jason nudged you and jerked his chin towards the circulation desk. “Got more books to shelve? I think I know the layout of this place well enough to help.”

You lit up. “Yeah! Let me show you how it works…”

He had a feeling he would be seeing you more than once a week.

Tag List: @khaetiin​ @mcrmarvelloki​ @gone-batty-fics​ @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @havingarebelliousstage​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @kat-nee​ @khaylin27​

[lykaonimagines]

Two Of You - Stephen Strange x Reader

Paring: Stephen Strange x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,432

Description: After months of living in the Sanctum, when America thinks Stephen and Y/N are going to ask her to leave, she starts doing everything she can think of to convince them to let her stay.

Request: "Stephen and the reader are married and want to try for a baby and they ask America first."

Requested by: Anon

Other Things: Mild angst but it gets family fluffy/happy.

Warnings: Some swearing. 

Masterlist

The first eight months in this universe had been some of the best in America’s life. Finally for once she felt like she belonged somewhere. That she had a home, that she was loved, and she wasn’t a danger to anyone.

She’d been going to school in New York, finally getting a chance to meet other kids her age and make friends she didn’t have to worry about suddenly being ripped away from one day. She lived at the Sanctum Sanctorum with Stephen and Y/N who had practically become her adoptive parents, and she studied the mystic arts at Kamar-Taj on weekends.

Everything for once felt… stable. And comfortable.

Sunday family movie nights, Saturday family breakfast, Y/N packed her a lunch each day with encouraging notes, the two of them stopping by her room each night to wish her a good night.

She couldn’t have imagined anything better.

That is until she started noticing Y/N and Stephen whispering more. While they were usually quick to invite her into their conversations, suddenly it seemed every time she entered the room they’d go quiet.

While their overall behavior toward her hadn’t really changed much, and they still followed their typical schedules, this small change was setting her on edge.

What couldn’t they talk about around her? That had to be discussed so often?

The only thing that could come to mind was that it was about her. The most reasonable answer seemed to be she’d done something wrong or they’d grown tired of her. Both possibilities made her heart ache.

So she started trying to help out more, and in her newfound panic, it all seemed to go wrong. First she burned the dinner she tried to make for them. Then accidentally turned Stephen’s socks pink in the wash when she did their laundry.

She came to the conclusion that those kind of chores didn’t seem to be working for her… but maybe some of the more magical ones could.

She’d watched Stephen perform the seals for the doorways loads of times, it didn’t seem like it could be that hard. He complained about having to do it all the time. Maybe if she could prove she could handle that, they’d let her stay.

At least that was the plan, until the spell went wrong. Of course on the door that had currently been set to some oceanic scene. As the spell went haywire, water poured through the doorway quickly starting to flood the hallway.

Trudging through the water, she breaks into a sprint as she reaches dry floor and screams Stephen’s name at the top of her lungs, frantically looking into each room.

Within seconds he appears, gripping her shoulders as he tried to get an actual answer from her. By the time she managed to gasp out the issue and they made it back across the Sanctum, the water had already started taking over the foyer.

He’d made short work of the seal and removing the bulk of the water, but the fancy thousand year rugs squished under their feet and there was apparent signs of water damage on the wood flooring and walls.

“I- let me help!” She insisted, reaching to grab a wet relic and accidentally dropping it in the process, the piece shattering as it hit the floor.

“No!” He shouts but sighs and rubs his temples. “I’m sorry. Just. Please go help Y/N with dinner or do your homework. I’ll handle this myself.”

“I-I’m sorry Stephen, I just-”

“America not right now please, I have a lot to do to fix this,” he grumbles as he turns back around to inspect the damage.

Turning away dejectedly, she heads back up to her bedroom to throw herself onto her bed and buries her face in her pillow.

-

“When do you think we should talk to her about it?” America freezes just outside the dining room as Stephen’s voice reaches her ears.

The tears she’d been holding back over the week since the doorway incident threaten to spill as she swallows hard. This was it. They were finally getting rid of her.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure what the best time to say that kind of thing even is,” Y/N responds.

Clenching her fists tightly and tightening her jaw, America stomps into the room with tears in her eyes, “You can just say it to me, I already know.”

“America?” Stephen asks surprised. “You know?”

“Hun what’s wrong?” Y/N immediately says as she notices the tears in the teen’s eyes. A look of confusion on her face as America takes a stop away from her as she steps forward. “What’s going on?”

“I already know!” she repeats, the tears trailing down her cheeks. “You guys want me to leave, you don’t want me here anymore.”

“Wait what?” Stephen’s brow furrows as he looks between Y/N and America. “Who said that?”

“No one yet, but I know it’s coming,” she answers, her gaze drifting to the floor. “And I- I can’t blame you. I was trying to help out more so you’d want me to stay and all I did is cause more problems for you.”

Y/N’s arms wrap around her and pull her into a tight hug suddenly, “America, I don’t know where you got that from but that’s not true.”

“B-but you two keep whispering about things and then stopping when I come in the room, and I keep making everything worse,” she hiccups, her tears spilling against Y/N.

“Kid you’re not going anywhere,” Stephen adds softly, approaching the pair and gently ruffling her hair. “We want you here, and anyways as far as the state of New York is concerned, legally we’re your parents. So you can’t get rid of us that easily.”

“You’re not mad about the seals? Or laundry, or dinner?”

“Those are just things,” he shrugs and wraps an arm around each of them. “Floors can be fixed, we can make more food, and I can get more socks. I was more upset you tried a spell you’ve never done alone. We were lucky it was just water damage. It could have been lava, toxic gas, any kind of beast. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

Y/N’s hand rubs slow circles on her back as the tears subside and she snuggles into the both of them with deep breaths. “What did you want to talk about then?

Stephen glances down at his wife and they both nod in agreement.

“Well Stephen and I have been thinking… we really like being a family. All the things we do together, being your parents. And we got to thinking about maybe wanting to be someone else’s parents too,” Y/N explains softly, America pulling back to look at her questioningly.

“Who’s parents?”

“We were thinking about trying to have a baby,” Stephen continues, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “But we wanted to know how you felt about that first.”

“Wait, you wanted to ask how I feel about you guys having a baby?”

“Yes, you’re our first priority and if you’d rather we not, we don’t want to do anything that’s going to make you uncomfortable.”

“But if you want a baby why would you let me say no, won’t that make you happy?”

“We are happy,” Stephen states simply. “We’re both really happy with the three of us, and will be if it stays that way.”

“We just liked the idea of having two of you,” Y/N smiles as America’s eyes widen.

The teen stays quiet for a moment, looking between the two as a wide smile grows on her face, “I’m gonna be a big sister!”

“Well I’m not pregnant yet!” Y/N laughs and leans against Stephen’s side.

“I want a sister!” America continues, pacing back and forth in front of them in thought. “No, a brother! And he needs a cool name, he’s going to be magical as heck! I’m gonna have a sibling!”

Before the two of them can say another word, America races into the kitchen excitedly, to inform a visiting Wong of the good news.

“Did she just basically tell Wong I’m pregnant?” Y/N sighs and shakes her head with a small smile on her face.

“I believe she did,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to her temple. “And you know how we can fix that?”

“How so?”

He lowers his mouth to her ear, playfully nipping at it as he digs his fingers into her hips, “By making it true.”

----

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[im-so-tired-sorry]

KiriBaku x gen!reader headcannons <3

A/N: part 2!! still kinda new to writing head cannons so sorry if it feels rushed

CW: flirting, some pet names

Genre: fluff

Word count: 0.9k

——————

Part 1

if everything is pretty quiet, you’ll visit kiri’s patrol spots and say hi before going off to finish your rounds.

you three go out for dinner when bakugo makes it as #2 hero.

over time, there’s a longing tension between the three of you; eijirou will start to become more clingy (obviously asking if it’s ok first) and katsuki will bring “extra lunch” and spare it to you or eiji cause “i’m in a good mood” every. time.

sharing glances with katsuki whenever you cook together

eijirou’s hands roaming your arms and shoulders, messaging them to help you relax

catching katsuki barely brush his hand against eijirou’s before swiftly pulling away.

more movie nights=more cuddling/falling asleep together.

late night calls with both of them while you just rant and talk about anything

it was eijirou who made the first move at confessing his feelings to both of you; it was during a call the three of you were in. he said it so abruptly that you and katsu almost missed it. it was silent for a bit, but you admitted your feelings for the other two as well, then followed katsuki.

it was like someone released all the air out of a balloon ready to pop, all the feelings came out, every perspective being shared about how you all fell for each other.

the call got so intense you all decided to just meet up at katsuki’s house.

once you saw each other, you just hugged.

it was mainly you and kiri dragging baku into the hug, but at one point, he stopped resisting and wrapped his arms around you both. “idiots <3”

stopping by each others places after your shifts became waaayyy more frequent, so much so you suggested making over night bags to leave at the others’ houses.

now, you don’t even notify that your coming over, you’ll just show up and kats will already have finished making dinner for you. “be grateful i even made enough for you.”

or eiji who will pamper you once you come over. “i’ll start a bath for you, and then we can do take out and a movie!!”

if you’re working late, your boys will send a selfie of them together. “miss you baby<3 stay safe 🦈😡” you immediately put the photo as your wallpaper

waking up for middle of the night calls when one of you has a nightmare

katsuki= master chef

you and eijirou= master taste testers, and there no need for a bias, katsuki’s cooking will always excel

“you already got a sample, you’ll have to wait ‘till we eat.” “but katsukiiiiiiii, it’s sooo good, and i’m so hungry, just one more bite!” “No!”

for a while, your schedules almost never line up, too busy to even visit each other after work. it’s to the point, where you go almost 2 months without proper time to talk to each other without it being over a screen.

but you persevere; you can somewhat cook too, and make lunch for them on your day off and visit them at their agency to drop it off.

your bfs will send flowers bouquets/fruit baskets to your agency

by a miracle, your schedules line up for two consecutive days off the three of you share, and you are not gonna waste it.

you three plan on going to the beach in the morning for breakfast, renting bikes to ride around the city, skip lunch and visit the aquarium, and grab dinner before heading back to katsuki’s for a movie night.

while kats was deciding which movie to put on the queue for movie night, you and eiji rant about how nice cuddling together feels after so long, sharing how you missed seeing each other after shifts. “no man should ever go so long without seeing his beautiful partners.”

you talk about missing cooking for each other and going out together and how today was such a recharge for you all. smaller thing like hugging and kissing were also mentioned.

“god you two, just move in already.”

said so casually, there was an abrupt stillness to the moment

in shocked silence, you and eijirou share a look. “katsuki…”

“it was just an idea! it’s not that big a deal.”

“not that big of a deal?!?!”

“look, it’ll be more convenient for all of us if we all just lived under the same roof. that way we can just come home to each other. plus, this house is too big for me to be by myself…” you notice his blush and the fact that he can’t look at either of you.

you recall on how kats had mentioned before about the house being bigger than what he would prefer, but with money not being an issue (being the #2 hero), he bought the house anyway. secretly, he bought it mainly because you and eiji loved it when he invited you two to visit the open house.

you and eijirou share another look, assurance now replacing previous astonishment

“well?”

…

“i’ll call off this weekend to pack.”

“we have tomorrow off, why wait?”

there’s a tension in the air, but it’s not bad. you look at each other and cant help but feel giddy.

you all break out into smiles and blushes and hugs and kisses and lay on each other and at one point, kats tackles both of you so you’re laying back on the bed.

giggles are shared, more kisses are planted, and you’re all so focused on planning tomorrow’s moving day that you fall asleep without picking a movie.