#and i have a bad feeling i chose the same songs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wongyuuu · 5 months

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midnight rain | lsm

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

Letter #1

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it was trauma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I just…"

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

Letter #2

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

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

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

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

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

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

He had no idea.

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

"What? You’re leaving today?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #3

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s really you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you recommend?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

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

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

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your question?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #5

Seokmin

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

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

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

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

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

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

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

What am I still doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You never quite managed to do that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To hell with his plan.

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

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

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

“Seokmin, I…”

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled over your skin.

“At least this hasn’t changed”

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

“Where’s your room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Seokmin... harder"

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #6

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

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

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

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

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

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

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me give you a ride”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

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msbigredmachine · 4 months

Text

Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: Smut

Click here if you want to be on my tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

-----

Answer your fuckin phone.

She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.

Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.

I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.

So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck, Joy!"

Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.

"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.

"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"

She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."

"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"

"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"

"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."

It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.

"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."

"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"

A long, tense moment crawls by.

"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.

"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.

"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."

She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.

"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.

"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.

Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.

Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.

She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.

But he's pissing her off right now.

"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.

"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."

The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."

"No. You just want pussy."

"That too," he snickers.

Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.

"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.

"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.

"I might be," she gasps.

"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."

Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."

"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.

"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."

The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.

"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.

"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.

"Make it five."

"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.

His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.

"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.

Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.

Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.

"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."

Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.

"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."

"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.

He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.

"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.

"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.

"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."

Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.

Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.

Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.

"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.

"Yes," he responds breathlessly.

"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.

"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.

"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"

She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."

Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.

A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.

"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.

Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.

Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.

Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.

"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.

The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."

She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...

"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.

"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.

Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."

"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.

"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.

"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.

"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.

"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.

"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.

"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.

Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."

Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.

"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."

"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."

His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.

"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."

Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.

"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.

Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...

"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.

"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.

"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.

"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.

Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.

"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."

"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"

"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."

"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.

"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...

"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.

Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.

Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘

"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.

"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.

"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.

I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.

"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.

Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"

"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"

Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."

"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."

She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.

THE END

--------------

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flamingo-writes · 1 year

Text

A/N: i am back from the dead after months. And it should’ve come as a surprise that I absolutely loved Hobie. Looks like a rockstar and is an absolute punk. My type in a nutshell.

I’m gonna be using some of these headcanon for future

Gal in The Chair — Hobie Brown x Artist!Reader

I think Hobie would be the kind of guy to fall for someone who he’s known for a long while, that being said, you’d perhaps known him all of your life

Having grown together, the two of you shaped a lot of each other’s beliefs. So no wonder the two of you were so compatible.

After the spider bite, you saw the whole journey from Hobie freaking out at first, to him figuring out how to use his new abilities.

He designed his web shooters, being the genius he is with technology. You helped him with his suit, specially his mask.

You became his Gal in the Chair

You liked to fix up and personalise clothes. All of your pieces of clothings came from second hand shops and you gave them a make over doing all sorts of stuff on them to make them unique and yours.

You also did this with a lot of Hobie’s clothes. As well as teaching him how to use your sewing machine.

After graduating high school, you opened a small alternative clothing shop in with unique pieces, doing the same thing you did for your clothes on this one. As well as doing hand made jewerly like bracelets, necklaces and earrings. You also had a talent with plants, managing to almost magically bring plants back to life and reproduce them like crazy, you added selling plants into your small business.

As Spider-Man gained traction, he low key promoted your work to his followers and people who agreed with him. This in order to keep negative attention from falling on you, and keep bad guys from thinking and theorising that maybe you knew Spider-Man.

As a side gig, you educated yourself on coffee making, and learned about the different processes and types of coffee beans there were. It started as a hobby, but soon you also implemented that into your shop.

The fact that you were so versatile, made Hobie feel incredibly proud of you. You seemed to be so independent, and creative and that never ending curiosity and passion made him harvest feelings for you.

Eventually, the close friendship, and companionship grew into affectionate and romantic feelings.

Hobie was always flirty, but it wasn’t until now that you started behaving differently. Normally he played his electric guitar but now you found him playing his acoustic guitar more.

He showed you a song he wrote. And while it was unusual —however, not imposible— to hear a romantic song coming from him, it wasn’t until the first minute that you realised the song was about you.

That’s how he chose to tell you about his feelings.

He didn’t intend for it to be this romantic, he simply one day word vomited the song and used one free afternoon to add the music.

After hearing his song, it was actually you who grabbed him and kissed him.

More than satisfied with the outcome, he kissed you back, put his guitar down and pulled you over his lap.

You two became inseparable since. You already were, but now it was more evident.

You worked at home, doing all the creative things you did, selling them, helping Spider-Man with art shows and gigs.

Those who paid close attention, they were able to determine you were some sort of associate to Spider-Man. However, all of them were also punks and anarchist so of course they kept their mouths shut. Spider-Man was always looking out for those in need. They were going to help a brother back and not tell anyone whenever any authority or weird-looking threat asked if anyone knew Spider-Man, or someone close to him.

You became widely known between Spider-Man supporters, although none of them would ever dare to snitch on you.

After Hobie met Gwen, she brought her over, you two became close friends right away. Letting Gwen crash at your place more often than not. She even offered to help you with the dishes and the groceries as thanks for letting her stay.

“You’re Hobie’s friend, you’re welcome whenever you want,” You’d told her.

Pav was also a frequent visitor. He loved your coffee, he taught you how to make chai. And you had chai ready for whenever Hobie told you Pav was going to be there.

Pav also bought plants from you all the time. Most of them for his mom. He once asked you if you could make a set of earrings and a necklace for his mom.

The set was a success and Pav always told you how much she loved them,

Eventually Miles also came around. And it wasn’t until Miles met you that his suspicions of Hobie and Gwen dating dissappeared.

Miles saw the absolute pure love with which Hobie looked at you. He still made the same sarcastic and cheeky jokes while talking to you. But the way he looked at you was completely different to the way he looked at anyone else.

Hobie convinced Miles to buy a plant and some earrings for his mother.

“Listen mate, this is what my girl does for a living. Plus the world needs to learn to appreciate the handiwork of an artisan,”

Miles was even surprised at how Hobie still looked cool while being mushy and cheesy with you as he hugged you, kissed your head, or played with your hands or hair.

Hobie had zero fucks to give about what people think about him, he doesn’t give a shit about PDA. Gwen thinks it’s gross, Pav thinks it’s adorable, Miles is simply puzzled as to how he is still cool when seeing his parents doing the same thing would make him cringe so hard.

Hobie is amused by the different reactions he gets. Especially Gwen’s grossed out face.

He still loves kissing you every chance he gets. Whether if it’s kissing you passionately. A subtle peck. Sweet kissed on your cheek or your forehead.

#hobie headcanons #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown headcanons #hobie brown fanfiction

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sweatervest-obsessed · 9 months

Text

You're Keeping Me Down

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her)

WC: ~5.8k

TW: mentions of trauma, mentions of Maeve, kissing, previous relationships, swearing, alcohol, so much crying, bad decisions, girlbossing

A/N: ayo....angsty teehee. I hope y'all like it! It's a sequel to Dedicated to New Lovers and was inspired mainly by Sara Bareilles's Gravity, some Harry Styles, and other sad songs. I hope y'all enjoy it!! I really do love reading all of your comments, and tags, and feedback because it makes me so happy to know you guys are enjoying the writing!! <3

“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” ~Maya Angelou

Something always brought you back to Doctor Spencer Reid. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you fought it, something about the universe could not keep you away from him for too long.

It was like the two of you were attached at opposite ends of a string, always pulling you towards one another, ignoring whatever you had been feeling beforehand.

There was nothing you could do to escape him. You had tried traversing the globe, studying in Greece and Turkey, or taking vacations in the most remote villages of China; you had even done a two-week expedition traveling to Antarctica. But somehow, some way, Spencer Reid stayed in the back of your mind.

Sometimes, it was like he was right next to you. You could still feel him next to you in your bed, or if you were alone in your car, your hand was absently reaching toward the passenger seat, only to feel the leather and not his leg.

Maybe it was because all of those stupid little facts he had spouted to you were resting in the back of your mind, popping up when you’d come across anything he would have told you about.

It was something you missed. He would just ramble on about anything to you, watching the joy on his face as he continued to speak, so grateful to have an audience, to have someone who cared. But you’d have to remind yourself that Spencer chose her as his audience instead of you.

Her.

The guilt of Maeve’s death followed you around more than Spencer did. At first, it was anything to do with therapists. The thought of choosing someone to speak to outside of your circle was a betrayal you had felt, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. Then it was your distrust of your friends, watching as they became less and less frequent in your life.

Work was all-consuming. You knew this fact well. Being one of the top profilers in the FBI meant that news of your transfer went fast, and the job offers came even quicker. But you decided to take some time off to rediscover the girl you once knew, someone outside her job.

The BAU was simply your life for the past eight years. You worked at the BAU, you dated inside of the BAU, and your friends were all within the BAU–It was honestly a joke that it all had decided to come crumbling down once you felt secure in your life, in your job, in your relationship.

You had filed the paperwork that allowed you to take two months of paid leave, not to leave the department. Your social media suddenly became filled with images of Ancient Greek monuments, Italian Vineyards, the French and Swiss Alps, and cities you once only visited in your wildest dreams.

Escaping reality was the best way to rediscover who you are. And so you tried.

When you returned from your two months, you had walked into the BAU bullpen and straight to Hotch’s office. Your skin was tanner, and your hair was a bit lighter from all of the sun. You were suddenly this confident woman again, but you weren’t who you were before, making you nearly unrecognizable.

“Y/N, please come in.”

You smiled warmly at Hotch, giving him a quick hug.

“You look good. How were your travels?”

You smiled and leaned against the wall, not wanting to sit since that meant you would be here longer than you wanted.

“It was everything I needed it to be, Hotch .” You nodded to the file on his desk with your name on it. “I take it Garcia ‘accidentally’ discovered my file and decided to drop it off?”

Hotch sighed and opened the file, looking over at you. “Of course she did. I thought you were just transferring after your leave; I didn’t know you were leaving the Bureau entirely.”

You nodded, a sad smile making its way onto your face.

Hotch looked at you, replicating the same sad smile.

“I wanted to tell you in person since I didn’t want you to find out via paperwork, but I should have known to come to your office first and then file it instead of filing it on my way to your office.”

A soft chuckle passed through Hotch’s lips as he nodded. “We’re going to miss you more than before, Y/N.”

“I won't be gone forever, Hotch. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I know.” He rounded the desk, giving you a quick hug, arm on your shoulder. “You have my number.”

You gave him a quick smile, nodding, “Don’t worry, Jack will still be getting weekly updates about my travels, and expect a box of goodies occasionally. I have to uphold my reigning title of the coolest aunt ever.”

As you left Hotch’s office, you didn’t notice Spencer at the coffee station. You didn’t see as he watched you quickly drop a note off on Emily’s desk and another on Derek’s desk before stepping into the elevator for the last time for the next two years.

You didn’t notice the heartbreak in his eyes, and you didn’t notice the fact that he had overheard as you told Hotch you weren’t coming back to the FBI at all.

But somehow, you found yourself back in that same elevator, visitor badge clipped to the new dress you had received as a gift from a friend during your month-long stay in India last year. The fabric draped across your body, highlighting how beautiful your curves were, and the colors brought out this newfound radiance in your skin, your eyes, your smile...

Color was the newest development in your life. The BAU meant that everything was in professional shades of blue, black, white, or maybe a subdued purple or green if you felt risky. But suddenly, your wardrobe burst through the rainbow as you experimented with patterns and shades, basking in this newfound joy beyond the world of suits.

Eighteen months of experimenting–with life, with colors, with places you called home, with love.

You had two brief “love affairs” as Garcia lovingly called them. One was only two weeks long, but the other was a few months. Yet both were missing something special and could barely converse with you. Maybe that was how Spencer felt. And the sex wasn’t all that great either.

And yet, after Eighteen months, an award, four nominations, a cat, a mediocre short-term relationship, and one groundbreaking dissertation that led to a Ph.D. later, you found yourself back in that damned elevator.

You inhaled sharply as you heard the tiny ding, doors opening up to a sight that made your stomach twist. It was truly bittersweet to be back, to visit the place that once carried everything in your life, and to have it be so foreign to you.

But what was not so foreign was how one Derek Morgan looked up as the door opened and his eyes filled to the brim with light.

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” He dropped his file on his desk and met you in the middle of the side aisle of the bullpen, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “My woman.” He muttered into your hair, giving you an extra squeeze before pulling away slightly.

“What’s up, sexy.” You laughed, thrilled to hear he hadn’t changed too much while you were away.

“I’m sexy? Have you seen yourself recently?” He laughed, and you gave him a twirl, eager to show off one of your favorite dresses. “And where did you get this? Wait, wait, let me guess.”

You pursed your lips, failing to hide the smile that was beaming across your face.

“Was it your time in Taiwan? No no…Pakistan?”

“So close. India. Maybe next time, champ.” You patted his arm, turning your head at the gasp behind me.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Doctor Y/N Y/L/N, world traveler extraordinaire?”

“JJ, you saw me three days ago.”

JJ pulled you into a hug. “Yeah, over Facetime,” she grumbled, not even trying to pretend she was upset at the sight of you in person. “You seriously have to stop sending Henry so much stuff.”

“Some of it is for the other one, too.” You muttered to her, knowing she wasn’t fully public with her pregnancy at the BAU just yet.

“I’ll be right back, I promise, I just have to say hi to Hotch first.” You placed your hands on their arms, turning towards Hotch’s office. As you went to knock on the door, it opened, leaving you face to face with the only person you weren’t ready to confront just yet.

“Hi.” He breathed out.

And fuck you, he looked so good.

“Hi, Spencer.”

You watched as a wave of emotion rippled across his face. His name almost tasted weird in your mouth, not something you’ve often said in the two years apart.

“I’ll, um..” He moved to step out of the way, letting you maneuver into Hotch’s office.

But you had also tried to move, causing you and Spencer to almost collide, causing his hand to barely grace your waist. A spark flew through your skin at the thought of his touch, causing goosebumps up and down your body.

You both muttered an apology, eyes not leaving the other until you quickly moved into Hotch’s office, causing him to move back, still watching as you closed the door in his face.

While you spoke to Hotch, catching up, Spencer was down in the bullpen at his desk, barely even trying to move them away from the windows.

JJ and Derek stood around his desk, looking from the office to Spencer and back again.

“She’s back.” He said simply when Kate approached them, wondering why they were all standing around, staring at Hotch’s office.

“Who?” Kate crossed her arms, looking between the agents, hoping for an answer.

Spencer said your name for the first time in a very long time. And it was almost as if his brain whirred to life, like some part of him had been dormant for a long time.

“Doctor.”

Spencer gave Derek a weird look. “What?”

“It’s Doctor Y/N Y/L/N now, Pretty Boy.”

Spencer let his mouth fall into a small oh, letting his mind sink deeper and deeper into the pit of you.

When you had originally left, Spencer decided to try and ignore you. It didn’t work, but he wouldn’t seek you out purposefully. He never looked up your name and tried to steer clear of the conversations involving you. But he wondered why you had never mentioned wanting to get a doctorate beforehand. He would have remembered something like that. He should have remembered something like that. ______________________________________________________________

The thought of Spencer’s fingers on your waist was the only thing you could think about for the rest of the day. Your skin hadn’t stopped tingling, and suddenly you wanted to drown in his touch, let his hands roam over your body and— “Stop it.” You said out loud as you put in your earrings.

Your mind wasn’t playing far.

“What did you say, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, just talking to myself!” You called back, sighing as you smoothed out the front of the dress you had changed into.

The team had decided to throw you a welcome-back party that night, generously hosted by David Rossi. And since they had all wanted an excuse to get dressed up, you gave them that much, meaning you had to dawn heels and a touch of makeup to accentuate the features you wanted. It also meant you got to pull out another stunning dress you had bought.

Celebrating your doctorate, which you completed a year early, you had flown to Milan with Emily Prentiss and decided to go shopping, which is how you ended up with the current dress you were wearing.

It fits you in all the right places, showing off just enough cleavage to be tasteful but maybe tempt something a bit more. You wondered if Spencer would like—

“God, I forgot how hot you look in that dress.”

“Emily Prentiss, I could kiss you on the mouth.”

Emily laughed and looped her arm through yours, staring at the two of you in the mirror.

“Thank you for flying in on such short notice.” You whispered, unable to take your eyes off of the reflection staring back at you.

“We can call the whole thing off right now…”

You shook your head and smiled at her. “It’s for me. And I really want some of Rossi’s cooking right about now. Especially now that I can compare my worldly experiences with the Italian Masterchef himself.” You laughed, causing Emily to laugh with you.

“Let's get going, yeah?”

The ride to Rossi’s house on the outskirts of Washington D.C. made for a relaxing drive, filled with updates from your best friend about each other’s lives, even though it had only been a month since you had seen each other last.

“I think you’re being perfectly reasonable, hun.”

“You’re saying that because all I do is cry these days,” you grumbled, kissing the head of the black cat in your lap.

Emily laughed and took a sip of her wine. “Or maybe I just know that you need a change of scenery. You’ve dedicated your entire life to the BAU and now you need to explore the entire rest of the world.”

“I think you just want to go to Greece with me.”

“You know how much I love Mamma Mia….”

You cracked a smile and picked up your glass. “Maybe Em, I’m not sure…I just…”

Emily watched as you looked up, trying to keep the tears from your eyes.

“I know he’s not worth the tears,” you mumbled, but you exhaled slowly. “It’ll just hit me sometimes.”

She stayed quiet, watching as you slowly worked through whatever was happening in your head.

“It’s like he’s right next to me sometimes. I…It’s like sometimes my own head is against me for not talking to him. I heard a song the other day, and I immediately turned to tell him something about it and–It’s like he’s ruling over my mind—” You huffed angrily. “I feel like I’m not making any sense–god.” You downed your wine and placed the glass on the table. “Maybe I’m just meant to wallow and drink wine and be completely useless for the rest of my life…past my prime, past my worth. I was so—I was so fucking sure he was the one…Like there's this strong attachment to my chest and I’m connected to him for eternity, regardless of whether he loves me or not.”

Emily pulled you into her arms while you cried, rubbing your back.

“You are so much more than him, hun. You will go out in the world, figure out who you are again, and stand so tall, just how you’re supposed to.”

“So tall.” Emily looked at you as she parked the car in Rossi’s driveway.

“Just the way I’m supposed to be.” You whispered, looking over at her, smiling. ______________________________________________________________

You’ve been to Rossi’s more times than you could ever admit, but it managed to take your breath away every single time. After his first wife had passed away, he had put in a garden near the edge of his backyard, providing beautiful color for you to look at from the porch.

Somehow, you always had a half-full glass, managing to have someone always get you a new drink when you seemed low.

You managed to talk to Jack and Henry, telling them all about the wonders of the world you had seen, then being pulled away by Garcia to discuss that brief love affair you had in Argentina, which then led to telling Derek about your time in England, studying for your doctorate.

Gratefully, you excused yourself when Rossi announced that dinner had been served, leading you to the tables set up in the backyard, filled to the brim with all your favorite foods. He had simply done too much.

Dinner was filled with smiles, laughs, and chatter about the ‘good ol days’ and the newer memories being made. You had become acquainted with Kate Callahan, Emily’s replacement. She seemed nice enough, but you both were hesitant of one another.

Spencer was sitting across the table from you. The two of you would catch glances at one another, passing moments where you couldn’t help but notice the way the wind ruffled his hair or the way the garden’s fairy lights reflected in his eyes.

“So, what brings you back to Washington,” Hotch asks you the question every person at the table has been dying to hear the answer to.

“Oh! Well…” You blushed slightly and shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal, but I was just offered a position at Georgetown as an adjunct professor. If I take it, I’ll teach classes for at least the next semester. That is if I like it more than King’s College in London..”

The table erupted into congratulations, ending with a toast from Rossi.

You all raised your glass in “Salut”, and took a sip from your drink, but you couldn't help but look at Spencer, who was already looking at you.

Excusing yourself from the table, you went inside quickly, walking towards the kitchen sink. You ran your hands under the cool water before splashing it across your face.

“Y/n…”

There it was. The moment you had been dreading. The two of you were alone, no one else to buffer you, no one else to take your arm and drag you to the dance floor.

“Spencer.” You turned around, your body leaning against the sink. God, you felt so small, so unable to watch yourself.

“That’s a–that’s a beautiful dress.”

“Milan.” You mused, fiddling with the ring on your pinky finger, unable to look away from the man before you.

“Ah.”

The silence hurt. Watching the two of you must have been painful because you could feel it. You once told this man everything about yourself; he once knew how your day went by one singular sigh. He could have told you what you were in the mood to eat for breakfast just by how you woke up.

But now, you didn’t even know what to say.

“Georgetown.”

You nodded and looked down at your nails, seeming that they felt like a safer bet to look at. “Yeah, uh…should be fun. Can I–” You looked up at him. “Can I ask you something?”

Spencer’s head nodded, and you pursed your lips, looking out the window and watching as your friends and family all laughed together and ate together.

“When I was…um.” You cleared your throat, willing away the tears that had instantly sprung to your eyes. “When I was packing up all my stuff two years ago…I found the…W-Was it for her or…” You braced yourself for impact. Waiting for him to respond.

Spencer’s eyes glassed over, and his mouth formed a small oh. He fiddled with his ring finger and looked out past you through the window. He couldn’t bear to watch the travesty he was about to cause.

“You.”

“Oh.” Fuck this. Fuck. You had sobbed over finding it for three hours while packing and then sobbed again as you moved out. Somehow, hearing it out loud was worse.

He was going to propose to you.

Spencer Reid had wanted to marry you. And god, that hurt. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and then he told you that he wasn’t in love with you anymore.

You didn’t care if you were reserving a spot in hell for yourself by damning an already dead woman. Her death meant Spencer could feel an ounce of the grief you just dug up. A sliver of the pain.

Suddenly, you felt his hand on your jaw, a thumb on your cheek, wiping away the tear that had escaped your eye. “I am so sorry.” He whispered.

And that broke the damn.

He pulled you into his arms, and you let him, surrounding yourself with Spencer. Letting the smell of his cologne wash over you, letting him squeeze you tightly like he used to so long ago. The feeling of his chest rising and falling gave you such comfort that your brain was screaming at you to run away from it. You had finally built all your walls back up; you felt as if you could finally exist, but here in his arms, the world was silent.

In his arms, you felt fragile; you felt so small. All of the strength you had was gone. And it felt so fucking good to not have to be the strong one, the person with the brave face.

“I’m so sorry.”

His lips kissed your hair, arm running up and down your back, trying so desperately to bring back that sense of comfort he once could provide you. And it was fucking working. God, why was it working. Why did it feel good? Why couldn’t you pull away?

“Spence…” You mumbled into his shirt, that had been stained by your tears. You shook your head. “I can’t…We can’t…”

He pulled away from you slightly, eyes saddened, and you couldn’t tell if it was because you were rejecting him or because he still loved you just as much as you loved him.

“I love you.”

You pulled away from the kiss, hand on his chest, smiling brightly at him. “What?”

It was the most beautiful you had ever looked, Spencer decided.

Your lips were puffy from how much the two of you were kissing, hair messy from his hands running through it, eyes wide with just as much love repeated in his own.

“I love you.” He repeated, smiling beyond measure.

“Say it again.” You mumbled, yanking him back down to your lips, kissing him again and again.

“I love you so much, y/n y/l/n.”

You pulled away, laughter filling up the entire room. Pure joy echoed and bounced off of the walls.

Spencer bit his lip, pulling away slightly. You hadn’t set it back.

“Spence…” You cupped both cheeks with your hand, thumb rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you too.”

Just saying it caused you to giggle, full of love and pure joy.

Loving anyone else would have caused you to gag–it still does.

But the memory makes you shudder, causing you to step out of his arms, quickly wiping away your tears or trying your best to.

The thought of love made you want to rip your head off. It made you want to sink to the bottom of the ocean and never resurface.

Spencer said your name, making you shake your head.

“You don’t love me Spencer. You haven’t for a long time.” The admission caused a resurgence of tears, making him take a step towards you. “No, Spencer, no.”

You shook your head again. “I-I can’t…you hurt me. You…you left me for someone you had never even met. She was–god.”

“I never loved her the way I love you.”

“No.” You whispered, chest heaving. “No, no. You can’t..fuck. Don’t say that shit–why would you say that shit to me.”

“Because it's the truth.” He said softly, too calmly for you to just ignore it.

“How can you stand there and say that to me? You don’t mean it—You can’t..” The past two year’s worth of therapy, of moving on, of becoming your own, came crumbling down because fuck, you didn’t know what to believe anymore. “How can you just…You don’t fucking mean it.”

“I know you don’t believe me, but I–”

“Don’t believe you?” You laughed at that, tears mixing with the stabs in your chest, dropping past your mouth as it laughed and laughed and laughed. “Then why did you fucking leave me. Why–Why–Why did you tell me to move out and…God Spencer, why did you come here tonight.”

You were almost hysterical at that point; all Spencer could do was watch. He couldn't touch you because every time he tried, you’d move away or lose some part of your mind even more.

“What about me was so–so–so, so boring, so understimulating to you, so desperately ignorant that you told me you didn’t love me anymore, that you kicked me out of our home, that made you reconsider wanting to marry me. And you know, I get it, I do. You found someone on your level intellectually, I get it. But still, I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life–what did she have that I didn’t, huh? What about her made her more appealing to talk to than me? ”

“She…”

“She what, Spencer.”

“I wasn’t–”

“No.” You were leaning back against the counter, trying to gain some semblance of yourself back from the spiral you were on. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t give me some ‘unworthy’ thought process because maybe you’re fucking eidetic memory doesn’t remember all of the conversations we used to have, but I fucking do. I couldn’t cut them out of my skin if I tried, and god did I try.”

Spencer stared at you, dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to do; he couldn’t function. All he could do was watch the pieces of you shatter all over, reliving the exact moments you were, but instead of being able to make it right, all he could watch as you closed yourself off more and more.

“Y-you tried?”

“God, Spencer, did you even look at me during those months.”

“I…” He just looked at you, really looked at you. “I couldn’t.”

You scoffed, wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and straightened out your dress.

“The only fucking thing I know is that if I don’t walk away now, then I will hate myself for the rest of my life for letting you talk me back into loving you again. And the worst part is, I still do. I don’t think I could ever love anyone again because of how much love I have for you, after everything we had been through, but—”

He kissed you.

Or you kissed him.

You weren’t sure.

But all you knew was that his hands were on your waist, and your hands were on his cheeks, and his lips were touching yours, and everything felt so right within the world, and your body was against his and just–

“Fuck.” You quickly pulled away, both of you panting, staring at one another, unsure about what happened.

You two just stared at one another for what felt like forever until you heard Emily call your name from the porch. You took another step away, back against the kitchen counter, smoothing your hair and crossing your arms.

Emily walked in and eyed the two of you, misreading the tension as something more antagonistic from before than what had actually happened.

“Uh, Rossi made you a cake…” She looked between the both of you, watching as you nodded at her, standing up fully. You followed behind her, sparing one last look at Spencer, who was just looking at where you were standing.

______________________________________________________________

“Uh, hi, sorry, could you point me toward Agent Hotchner’s Office.”

The person whose shoulder you tapped turned around and gave you one of the most beautiful smiles you had ever seen.

“Well hello, gorg–”

“Derek. Don’t be rude.” The woman next to Derek had elbowed him in the ribs, preventing more HR training for the both of them. “Hi. You must be Y/n. I’m Penelope, and that’s Derek, don’t mind him.” She looped her arm through yours and started to lead you towards the little staircase on the side of the room.

“Hotch’s office is right up here.”

“I–Thank you, Penelope.” You smiled at her.

“I’ve read your file.” She whispered, smiling back at you. “I’m really excited to work with you because you are one impressive woman, let me tell you.”

You blushed slightly, about to respond, but Penelope had knocked on Hotch’s door, causing a voice to tell you to “come in.”

“Welcome to the team.” She pulled away, leaving you to enter Aaron Hotchner’s office for the first of many times.

You opened the door and smiled at the man at the desk. “Hi, I’m–”

“Y/n Y/l/n, You have a very impressive resume. Please, take a seat.” He stood to shake your hand, gesturing to the chair before his desk. You quickly scanned the photos along the walls, the books on his shelves.

“Everyone knows who I am before I know who they are.” You laughed slightly, taking the seat.

“Yes, well, We’re all very excited to have you join us here.”

The memory of your first day hit you like a wave when Aaron pulled your seat out for you back at the table outside. You stalled for only a second, but it was long enough for any of the various profilers at the table to notice something was off.

You smiled through the speeches, and you laughed at the jokes and cried at the sweetness of your friends, but you were somewhere far away, dreaming about the moments that led you up to where you were.

“And that is why I am glad to have you back because clearly, the universe respects you enough to let us all come together to celebrate the return of our Y/n.” You raised your glass and cheer with Rossi, standing up to hug him.

“Now.” You smiled at all of the faces that looked up at you. “Let us eat cake!!”

The table erupted and while Rossi cut slices for each of you, you sat back down, listening to what Garcia was telling you, but your eyes kept darting to the person directly across from you.

You could feel his eyes any time they were on you, and you knew they were fleeting glances, but it was just too much.

“Want to take a walk with me through the rose garden?”

You nodded, standing up and accepting Derek’s arm, letting him lead you towards the garden, enjoying the fresh air and the sudden weight off of your shoulders. You couldn’t feel his gaze anymore but you knew he was still looking at you.

“What’s next on your list of adventures.” Derek looked at you, watching the millions of emotions race across your face before settling on a smile and a shrug.

“I’m not sure yet. You know about Georgetown, but I don’t know about D.C. anymore….”

Derek nodded and pulled out the chair at the small wire table. It sat under a trellis filled with gorgeously bloomed roses and baby’s breath. The smell was almost overwhelmingly fragrant.

You gratefully took it and watched as he went and sat across from you.

“You looked like you got a bit overwhelmed back there.”

“What happened to not profiling me like I asked?”

Derek chuckled, “It’s not profiling if it’s written on your sleeve.”

You sighed and looked out at some of the flowers. “I don't…”

He let you work through it in your mind, just glad to keep you company while you figured your shit out.

Eventually, you spoke up. “It’s weird.”

Derek hummed in agreement.

“I don’t know. Just. I felt like I was doing so well, and I was becoming my own person, figuring out who I was, and then I come back here, and suddenly I’m back to being that twenty-two-year-old kid who breezed her way through the academy. It’s like I did everything in my power to end up where I did, and then the universe told me I fucked up and should have done something else.”

“I don’t think you fucked up in the slightest. Do you know how many people you saved?”

You went to brush off his comment, but Derek didn’t let you get a word in.

“I know your entire world got completely fucked over, but you were meant to be in BAU. You were supposed to be there. I cannot think of my life without you, I know Garcia can’t, and I know Emily would tear you a new one if you even brought up to her the possibility that you being in her life was a mistake.”

“Yeah, and now I’m thirty, with a doctorate and a cat, and no idea what to do with my life.”

“But you also just spent the last two years seeing the world–how many countries did you go to…”

You pursued your lips, trying to count in your head. A blush spread across your face as you mumbled the number.

“Sorry, wanna repeat that for me?”

“At least fifty…”

“That’s what I thought.” A very proud look crossed Derek's face, smiling at you.

You looked down at your left hand, fiddling with your ring finger. No matter how hard Derek tried, no matter how much you enjoyed his company and the way he was keeping your ego healthily inflated, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you could have been married–you could have been happy.

“He told me when he bought it.”

Your eyes snapped to Derek’s, and he looked at you with such soft eyes.

That was something you had always loved about Derek. No matter how much he cared for you, no matter how gently he was being, he never treated you like a piece of glass.

“He, uh, I was the only one he told.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“When did you find it?”

“When I was moving my things out of the apartment.”

“Damn…”

“Yeah.” You laughed. It was colder than usual but still antagonistic at the whole situation. “I…um. I found it on the last day when I was cleaning out my bedside table. He knew I never went into the bottom drawer because I literally never kept anything in there, but I checked because, you know, I was asked to leave, and…there it was. It was just…It’s ironic, really, how perfect it was, too. They say that if a guy can’t get the ring right, then he’s not the one for you, but no one preps you on if it’s the perfect ring, perfect size, but you had just broken up two days before you found it…”

Derek nodded, letting you ramble.

“I feel like I’m being weighed down by a million different things, yet they’re all him.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I have no fucking idea.”

"Sometimes good things fall apart, so that better things can fall together." ~ Marilyn Monroe

Part 3

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Tags: @lilrios-world @gubzgirl @mynameisnotokay @hereforfun22-blog @yoursarahg @mega-kittyglitter-1 @onlyspence

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spence reid x reader angst

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lustfulslxt · 7 months

Note

could you write one where y/n and the triplets are at the beach and y/n is laying on her stomach tanning. chris is putting sunscreen on her back then starts to get all touchy feely and she feels him slip the bikini to the side and he fingers her secretively (she consents ofc) while the rest of them are in the water and when they get back to the air bnb he pulls her away from the group and is like “i feel like you owe me something hm?” PLSSS

Quid Pro Quo - Chris Sturniolo

warnings : smut.

—

Chris’ POV

It was a hot summer day; the sun was shining, the sky was clear. It was a perfect day to go to the beach, so that’s what we were doing. Nick, Matt, Nathan, Y/N, and I were all in our Airbnb, getting ready to head out.

I was sitting against the back of the couch, with Matt, waiting for the rest of them to finish. Personally, I don’t know what takes so long. Throw on your swimsuit and grab a towel.

“Jesus, what’s taking them so long?” Matt speaks, voicing my thoughts.

“I was just thinking that same thing.” I reply.

Just then, Nate comes walking out of the bathroom. His face was buried in his phone, so we knew why he was taking forever. When he looks up, he notices that it’s just me and Matt.

“Where’s everyone else?” He asks.

Before anyone could say anything, Y/N’s door opened and the last two emerged.

“About fucking time!” Matt exclaims with a huff. “There’s no reason we should be waiting on you guys for forty-five minutes. Like that’s absurd!”

“We’re just going to the beach.” I remind them, completely confused as to why it would take so long.

“Literally shut up, we’re ready now.” Nick says, rolling his eyes.

As my two brothers and Nate walked towards the door with their things, I noticed Y/N linger a little bit, so I did as well. She seemed to be off in her own little world, so I walked over and placed my arm on her shoulder.

“You straight?” I ask, watching as she looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“What? Yeah, I’m good.” She says, confusion clear as day in her voice. “Are you?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’m cool. You’re the one that’s staring off into space.”

She slightly shakes her head with a smile on her lips as light laughter falls from her mouth, “My bad. I’m good though, let’s go.”

With that, she walked ahead, following the rest of them out the door. I stood there for a split second, watching her retreat. My eyes found themselves checking her out, admiring everything about her. She looked so good in her little jean shorts that were unbuttoned and folded over. I could see her

neon orange bikini showing beneath her shorts and through her white crop tee. She looked amazing, and I just wanted to get my hands on her.

Shaking my thoughts from my head, I followed in suit, and we all piled into the van. After connecting to aux, I queued a few songs and we were on our way.

“We should get something to eat when we leave.” Nate suggests as we all exit the car.

The rest of us agree in a multitude of hums and nods. We gather our bags that held sunscreen, snacks, drinks, towels, and spare clothes. Once we were all ready, we made our way onto the sand, searching for a good spot to chill.

Luckily, the beach was pretty clear of people, only having a few stragglers here and there. We chose a nice secluded area, setting our belongings out.

Y/N grabbed a large sheet from her bag and began sprawling it out. I grabbed a few things to put on the corners, keeping it in place. She sent me a grateful smile which I returned with ease.

“It’s so hot out here!” Nate groans.

“It’s summer, kid. There’s literally a vast ocean in front of your face.” Nick points out.

“Then let’s go!” Nate shouts, yanking off his t-shirt and removing his slides before running out to the water.

It only took a second for me, Matt, and Nick to do the same, following our friend. We all crashed into the water, our joyous laughter mixing together as we splashed around for a moment.

“Let’s see who can hold their breath the longest.” Matt grins, looking between the three of us.

“I’m down. Who’s judging?” Nate asks.

“Not it.” The three of them said in unison, leaving me to roll my eyes.

I shrugged, “Well. Are you gonna go, or what?”

“Okay, kid.” Nick rolls his eyes, “On three. One, two, three.”

They all submerged at the same time, leaving me at the surface. Immediately, my lips turn into a frown, and my eyes look back to shore. Y/N was laying out with our things, by herself. Not caring about their stupid game, I wade back out to the sand.

Once I’m fully emerged from the water, I hear Matt yelling out to me, “Chris! What the heck, you were supposed to judge!”

I just waved a dismissive hand and continued striding over to Y/N, determined to keep her company and spend time with her.

“Hey.” I greet, grabbing my towel and patting myself dry.

She looked up at me, holding her hand out above her eyes to block the sun. She had her eyes scrunched, trying to shield them from the brightness.

She looked so ridiculously good. Her perfect body in her perfect bikini. Her recently pedicured toes and manicured fingers, her beautiful hair flowing down her back, her flawless skin. She looked better than the sun.

“Hi.” She spoke, a smile on her face.

I return the smile, sitting myself next to her. She looked back out at the scene in front of her, taking in the beauty of nature and the sight of her friends making memories and having fun.

Taking in a slight breath, pulling my attention away from her, I reach for my bag to grab some sunscreen. I poured a little in my hands, then spread it over my face, rubbing it in. I repeated the same action to my arms and torso, applying it everywhere I would most likely get sunburnt.

“Here.” I say, handing the bottle to her. “Don’t wanna get burned, do you?”

She grins, accepting the bottle from me. I watched as she copied me, rubbing some onto her face.

She then turns to me and asks, “If I lay down to tan, do you think you could put some on my back?”

My dick practically jumped at that and I was immediately nodding my head and scooting closer to her. I grabbed the bottle as she laid down on her stomach, her head placed on her folded hands.

Once she was settled and I was sat on my knees next to her, I poured some of the sunscreen onto her back. I could see her slightly jump at the cold contact. Setting the bottle aside, I began to softly rub the liquid into her skin.

I couldn’t help the feeling of my dick slightly growing. It was completely unintentional, but I was unable to prevent it. Her skin was so soft and warm, shining perfectly under the bright sun. I could hear her sighing in content, enjoying the feeling.

My hands worked her shoulders and around her neck, firmly massaging them. My fingertips gently dug into her skin, rubbing in circular motions. As I moved lower, I could hear very quiet, almost inaudible, moans coming out of her mouth. The sound travelled straight to my dick, hardening it even more.

Adding more sunscreen to her lower back, I worked it into her skin. My fingers lightly dragged over the sides of her bikini bottoms, moving onto her legs. As I’m massaging her thighs, I hear another moan come from her, louder than before yet still quiet. Her body immediately tensed at the accidental slip.

“It’s okay.” I assure her, completely unbothered by it, in fact the opposite.

After a minute of rubbing her legs, I riskily moved my hands a bit higher, palming right beneath her ass. When I got no objections, I placed my hands on both of her cheeks.

“Is this okay?” I ask, meaning sure she wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest.

“Yes.” She quietly moaned out as I kneaded her ass.

Her soft grunts and moans encouraged me to keep squeezing her cheeks, gripping and rubbing them. My hands wrapped around each cheek perfectly, slightly spreading them, my fingers underneath her bottoms.

Her bikini bottoms were tightly pressed against her pussy from the positions of my hands. I could see her arousal peeking through at this point, and from that and her moans, I was so fucking hard.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” I whisper to her, my voice a bit raspy.

“Please.” She moans.

“Please what?” I question, a grin pulling to my lips.

“Touch me, please.” She begs, pushing her ass into my hands a little more.

I lick my lips, a groan escaping from me, thrilled at the thought of finally having her. I quickly look ahead, making sure our friends weren’t coming. They were still goofing off in the water, completely oblivious to us.

I can’t help but pull my bottom lip between my teeth as I slightly pulled her legs apart, just a little bit. My fingers meet right at her core, putting light pressure on her heat, causing her to whimper. My index finger hooks under the side of her bottoms and tug them to the opposite side, revealing her soaking wet pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” I grunt.

Without being too noticeable, I lean over her ass, my face hovering a foot or two above. I pucker my lips, my tongue pushing saliva to the forefront of my mouth, letting it fall. It only took seconds, before it seeped into her folds and mixed with her juices.

I take my fingertips and run them back and forth between her slit, mixing it all up and coating my fingers. She was letting out small moans and I was eating it up, she sounded to heavenly.

I bring my the pad of middle and ring finger down to her clit, rubbing in full circles. I started slow, her moans becoming louder. When I picked up the pace, her moans were more frequent as well. I dragged my middle finger to her entrance, sliding right into her opening.

“Mm, fuck that - that feels so good.” She moans out, grinding into my hand.

I kept pumping my finger for a moment, before adding another, causing a lewd moan to ripple from her throat. Having her like this was turning me on beyond relief. I just wanted to sink my dick into her and have her moaning my name.

Sneaking another eye out to the sea, I made sure the other three were still occupied. Then, I take my other hand and trail it up her legs, squeezing tenderly. My hand roams her body a little bit before slightly reaching under her and rubbing her clit w my fingers.

She was so wet, my fingers were just gliding all over her. Her mouth hung up as her face scrunched up, several moans falling from her lips. I knew she was close. Her legs slightly trembled and her hand clutched at the sheet beneath us as she pushed her core back into me.

I started pumping and rubbing faster, the moans coming from her doing nothing but encouraging me. Her whole body began to shake and I could feel her clenching around my fingers.

“Oh my god.” She loudly moans out, twitching as she lets go and gives in to her orgasm.

My hand was covered in her cum as I continued working her through her climax. I was so unbelievably turned on, I just wanted to bury myself deep inside her. Once she came down from her high, I pulled my hands away from her and brought my fingers into my mouth, tasting her sweetness.

She was panting, trying to regain her breath. She turned her head towards me, a breathy laugh falling from her mouth as I gave her a smug smile.

“Did you enjoy that?” I ask, smirking at her.

“Did you?” She retorts, nodding her head towards my throbbing dick, begging to be released from its shackles.

I groan at her, pulling my towel to cover my crotch, “Not fair.”

She only laughed, tossing her arms up in defense as she sat up, causing me to laugh with her. Just then, the others came walking up to shore, joining us.

“We’re hungry.” Nate says, “We wanna go get food.”

“I haven’t even swam yet.” Y/N pouts.

“That’s your fault!” Matt exclaims, “You two have been out here, doing who knows what. You could’ve been out there having a blast with us.”

Me and her share a look, heat rushing to her cheeks at the thought of what we just did. I still couldn’t get my boner to go down.

“Pack it up. We’re going.” Nick states, drying off.

So we do. We gather our things and head back to the car, except Nate takes the front seat with Matt, and I sit in the very back with Y/N, Nick being between both pairs.

Throughout the drive, Y/N stayed right next to me, arm to arm. She lifts her hand and placed it on my leg, her head resting on my shoulder. My breath hitched at the movement of her hand, her fingertips pressing into me.

I just knew my dick would betray me any second, proving to her just how much I was feeling her. The way she smelled and how warm she felt against me, I was already at her mercy.

I could feel my dick twitch when her hand slid closer to it, wanting nothing more than for her to touch me. I shifted in my seat, readjusting myself. She placed her hand right on top of my dick that was now hard and throbbing under her touch.

I shoot her a warning look and she just innocently smiles at me, slightly palming me through my swim trunks.

“What are you doing?” I ask her, my voice a whisper.

“Hmm? Nothing.” She responds.

Her voice sounded so sweet and angelic, I wanted nothing more than her to moan out my name as she was wrapped perfectly around my dick, me sunken deep inside her.

My thoughts alone were enough to make me want to explode, but the way her hand palmed and stroked me, I was in shambles. My hips were jerking, wanting to feel more of her. My teeth were gnawing on my bottom lip, trying my hardest to keep my groans inside.

I quickly grabbed her hand and squeezed it, halting her movements because I was so close to nutting in my shorts. I dropped my head onto the headrest behind me and let out a breath. Her giggling next to me caused me to look over at her, and I was glad I did.

She looked so lovely. The smile on her face was wide, her pretty teeth on show. Her eyes were crinkled as she shook with beautiful laughter falling from her mouth. She was everything, and I just wanted to give it all to her.

“You’re insane.” I whisper, interlocking our hands.

“Only for you.” She responded, a cheeky grin on her face.

I wanted more of her touch, but I knew I would have to wait until we got back to the house.

We had already gotten our food and ate in the parking lot like we usually do. We were now pulling back up to the house, all eager to finally be back.

We exited the van, all gathering our things and making our way inside. Everyone parted and went to their respective rooms.

I put my things away and changed into some shorts, walking around my room for a little bit. I wanted to go into her room, but I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to. And I didn’t want anybody else to say shit. Sighing, I pulled out my phone to text her.

-come to my room?

-omw

It was that simple, and now, I couldn’t wipe the stupid smirk off my face. I don’t know what got into me, but ever since we left the house earlier, she’s been on my mind the entire time. Even more so after she begged me to touch her.

A few soft knocks sounded on the other side of my door, and it opened, Y/N peeking her head inside. I smiled at her, beckoning her over with a nod.

She looked so good, wearing a small tank top with little shorts. And the fact that I could see her nipples through her shirt was driving me wild.

When she walks over and stops in front of me, I reach behind her and pull her closer to me, my hand resting on her lower back. She stares up at me, an innocent look in her eyes that I just want to wreck.

My other hand trails up the side of her body, stopping at her jaw as I cupped her face. My thumb brushed her bottom lip, feeling her soft skin. She felt so hot under me, I loved it.

“I feel like you owe me something, no?” I say to her, my voice husky.

I watched as her eyes blew out, now nothing but pupils as her irises were completely unnoticeable.

“Lock the door.” She whispered to me.

I eagerly did so, quickly making my way back to her. She put her hands on my bare chest and softly pushed me back until my legs hit the bed.

She effortlessly dropped to her knees, keeping her hands at my waistline. She hooked her fingers in my shorts and tugged them down, leaving me in nothing but my boxers.

My boxers were a tent around my erection, my hunger for her evident. She reached up and wrapped her hand around my covered dick, her eyes never wavering from mine. Her hand firmly gripped me, pumping me over the fabric, I couldn’t help but buck my hips towards her.

She licked her lips and pulled down my boxers, discarding them with my shorts. My cock sprang up, practically staring her in the face. I wanted her mouth on me so bad, I was damn near fiending for it.

She wrapped her hand around me once again, this time skin to skin, and I couldn’t help but shudder. The anticipation was building and I so badly just wanted to fuck her throat.

She brought her lips to my head, dragging them along my shaft. I could feel my breath get caught in my throat as I watched her. She wrapped her lips around the tip, flicking her tongue over my slit and collecting my precum.

“Fuck.” I groan, my hands immediately going to her head and grabbing fistfuls of her hair.

Without warning, she took all of me into her saliva coated mouth, her nose hitting my pubic bone. I could feel my tip sliding down her throat, causing me to tighten my grip in her hair as I let out a low groan.

She pulled back and did it once more, her eyes locked onto mine. She began bobbing her head, sucking around me as she went. One of her hands went to play with my balls while the other one jerked what she couldn’t take in her mouth.

I was in pure bliss. She was making me feel better than I’d ever felt before. The way she sucked harder around my sensitive tip, seeing how I reacted to it. The moans were pouring from my lips left and right.

I felt myself getting close to finishing when she pulled away, leaving me whimpering at the loss of contact. She continued jerking me, squeezing and twisting around my tip, and licked my slit with a flattened tongue when more precum emerged.

I almost came at the sight of her, a loud groan coming out of me. I placed my hand under her jaw, pulling her up to her feet. Only giving her a quick glance, my lips were on hers.

I kissed her hard and deep, shoving my tongue into her mouth and exploring the inside of it. She moaned into the kiss, her hands finding my hair and tugging it.

I pulled away, slightly out of breath, and placed my forehead on hers. “Mm, can I fuck you?”

She put her lips on mine, resuming our kiss. I felt her nodding, but I pushed her back a little, looking at her expectantly.

“Please.” She whined, “Please fuck me.”

I turned us around, then quickly removed her top, leaving her torso bare. Her nipples were hard and I couldn’t help but pinch them, causing her to let out a soft moan.

I pushed her back onto the bed and leaned over her, my mouth meeting hers again. Our tongues colliding, teeth clashing. My hands slipped into her bottoms, tugging her shorts and her panties down, and pulling them down her legs and off her feet.

Her pussy was glistening with her arousal, and I just wanted to devour her. I sat on my knees, situating myself in between her legs. I brought my hand forward, teasing her folds with soft feather like touches.

She moaned out, thrusting her hips into my hand to create more friction. I chuckled at her desperation, and hovered back over her.

My hand enveloped her neck, gently squeezing as I planted a kiss onto her lips. My mouth trailed from hers, down her jaw, and onto her neck, leaving wet kisses in my wake.

Enough with prolonging it, I sat back up and lined myself with her entrance. Looking into her eyes, I sink myself into her. She reaches down and intertwines her hands with mine as I bottom out, low moans leaving both of our mouths.

I slowly start to rock in and out of her, loving every sound that she was letting out. Her grip on my hands tightened as I thrusted faster.

“You feel so fucking good around me.” I moaned, hitting even harder.

Her eyes were rolling in the back of her head as her face contorted in pleasure. I swiftly grabbed her legs, lifting them high and letting them rest on my shoulders, before drilling back into her.

“Oh fuck!” She yelps, a string of moans following. “Yes, right there.”

My thrusts were fast and hard, burying my dick deep within her. The sultry moans she was giving me was driving me crazy, I wanted all of her forever.

I leaned forward to quickly kiss her, missing the feeling of her lips on mine. She was soaking wet and I could feel her juices dripping down my balls as she clenched around me. We were both so close, I could see it in the way she was a moaning and quivering mess beneath me.

“You fill me up so well.” She moans, her hands dragging down my back. “I’m about to cum.”

I continued fucking into her at the same pace, knowing she would be falling over the edge soon. And she did.

Her legs violently shook as she arched her back, loud pornographic moans coming out of her mouth. She was trembling as she let go, cumming all over my dick.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. I’m so close.” I tell her, watching her face as she climaxes.

She opened her eyes and smiled at me, before biting her lip, “Cum on my face.”

My eyes widened and I almost nutted right then and there, but I pulled out. She slid down as I came above her, positioned right over her face. My hand grasps my dick and it only took a few jerks before my stomach tightened and I shot my load out.

Her tongue was out, spurts of white nut landing all over it and the rest of her face. She looked so fucking hot, being a good little slut for me.

After both of us came down, I crashed beside her. I took in a few breaths before quickly going to my conjoined bathroom and wetting a washcloth with warm water. I went back over to the bed and kneeled next to her, softly cleaning her face as she looked up at me.

Once her face was clear again, I leaned forward and planted a few kisses on her lips. Folding the towel, I brought it between her legs and cleaned her own juices up. I then go to the bathroom and wiped myself up and discarded the towels.

Back in the room, I put my boxers back on and pull out a shirt from my closet, then hand it to her as she puts her panties back on.

“Will you stay?” I ask her, hopeful. “Will you stay and cuddle with me?”

She smiled, “I’d love that.”

I return the smile and climb into bed with her. We both get under the covers and I pull her into my embrace, planting a soft kiss on her head. She lays her head on my chest and wraps her arms around me as I put mine around her.

It didn’t take long for sleep to overcome us, as we were both feeling content and spent.

—

a/n : here you go bby, hope you enjoy it!! send in more reqs 🫶🏼

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #chris sturniolo #imagine #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #request #sturniolo fanfic #one shot

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inaconstantstateofchange · 3 days

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okay so when reading the final chapter of svsss volume three, the interactions between yue qingyuan and tianlang-jun are so—

Shen Qingqiu wanted to say something when Tianlang-Jun raised his chin, squinting at Yue Qingyuan. “I remember you.” After thinking for a bit, he said with conviction, “Back then, the Huan Hua Palace’s old geezer wanted you to help him with the ambush, but you ignored him. So you’re the current sect leader of Cang Qiong Mountain? Not bad.” “Your distinguished self’s memory is also quite good.” Tianlang-Jun smiled and smiled, then gave a sigh. “If you were also trapped in a pitch-back darkness for over ten years, unable to glimpse the sky or sun, with nothing to pass the days but for reminiscing over past affairs, your memory would be quite good as well.”

tianlang-jun remembered him, and while yes, it's clear he has a pretty good memory and might also be using it as a way to throw his potential enemy off-balance, it is still a very interesting way to go about it. and the rejoinder yue qingyuan sends back at him, perfectly polite - even respectful! - totally unflappable—tell me you do not see the potential there!!

but never fear, if you are not yet convinced, i have more:

Tianlang-Jun continued to sit upon his stone, completely at ease. “I remember that you also waited until the last moment to draw your sword that day,” he said to Yue Qingyuan. “Doing the same now?” Yue Qingyuan didn’t answer.

tianlang-jun remembered a lot about yue qingyuan, even small details like his sword, and the actions he took (or didn't) upon the day of tianlang-jun's betrayal. to me, this reads as though, even then, he took note of yue qingyuan's power as something to look out for. he is also, despite all of the other people around, primarily engaging in conversation with yue qingyuan.

Tianlang-Jun pulled his hand back and smiled. “Honestly, in the beginning I had no malice, nor did I find fun in the idea of the world burning. I only occasionally crossed the border, coming here to sing songs or read books—it was quite nice. However, since I’ve already been in residence beneath Bai Lu Mountain for so many years, if I don’t follow through on something along the lines of your thoughts, I’d truly find my circumstances a bit too unjustified.” Yue Qingyuan flicked his finger. Xuan Su sprang three inches from its sheath, its spiritual energy seething. The bones of Tianlang-Jun’s body cracked and popped, almost like his joints had been dislocated. He made a sound of surprise. “As expected of a sect leader. Not bad. Your master was quite mediocre but had quite the eye for disciples and successors.”

okay first of all, the tension here is remarkable, and second of all, the compliment at the end—tianlang-jun, for the power level we know he possesses, is being practically effusive with his praise of yue qingyuan's strength something we know to be greatly prized by demons.

this segment follows the previous directly, but i had to give it it's own spotlight, for reasons that i hope will be readily apparent:

Then Tianlang-Jun reached out and grabbed Xuan Su’s blade directly, as if he couldn’t feel a thing. “But why not draw it all the way?” he said with a smile. “You can’t do anything to me with only this much.” Yue Qingyuan’s gaze hardened, and Xuan Su jumped another half-inch from its sheath.

tianlang-jun: oho, you'll need more than that much to handle me, big guy

(jokes aside, considering the rampant spiritual energy of xuan su, described as so powerful as to be oppressive in volume 2, and the susceptibility of demons to spiritual energy, tianlang-jun is truly doing the absolute Most™ right now.)

... moving decidedly away from jokes now, this is one of the most pivotal lines for them, in my opinion. it comes at the conclusion of wu chen's reveal of the betrayal-that-wasn't, and how su xiyan chose death over bringing harm to tianlang-jun, only for it to find him regardless:

“It wasn’t that she didn’t care about you, but that she was without alternative. Yet the world is pitiless, and so you passed each other by…” Tianlang-Jun’s lips seemed to tremble slightly. A long moment passed. Then he said, “Is that so?” Right after those three words, he asked again, “Truly?” “This one swears upon his life that his words contain not a single falsehood,” said Master Wu Chen. Tianlang-Jun turned his head to look at Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan. As if seeking confirmation, he asked, “Truly?” He didn’t even care whether someone was in the know; he was just asking anyone he could. Unable to say anything, Yue Qingyuan silently lowered his head. It was unclear what he thought.

it is clear that the tragedy of su xiyan and tianlang-jun was one that yue qingyuan felt keenly, not only for his response here, clearly processing some significant emotion, but also for the way that he used the same words to describe his relationship with shen jiu just a short time later:

“I really…didn’t mean to not return,” said Yue Qingyuan. “Only, it really is true that the world is pitiless, and so the two of us passed each other by…”

pardon me while a cry a new freshwater body into existence.

there is truly so much more that can be said about what makes these two a great fit for each other, especially in a canon-adjacent/post-canon scenario, but i'll save that for another day. for now, i will let these excerpts speak for themselves.

#svsss #meta #my meta #i love them your honor #like truly they are SO complementary AUGH #tianyue #tianlang jun #yue qingyuan #tlj #yqy

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loviingpedri · 10 days

Text

birds of a feather - jude bellingham

prompt: going to an amusement park with your lover, jude.

warnings: grammar issues, cursing, not proofread

i love fluff with jude.

credits to owners for all images

putting on your wrist band, your dream date that only seemed like a fairytale finally came true. and, it was with your prince charming, jude bellingham.

nothing like celebrating the champions league win in an amusement park to get all of the energy out. the date has been in planning for weeks and it finally come true. jude was jumping in joy after seeing the bright lights flashing everywhere with a crowd of people of all ages expressing their excitement.

"i haven't been to an amusement park since i was little," he spoke to you while you held his arm. "seems like nothing changed."

"i don't think anything has changed. still brings the same nostalgia." you gave him a brief smile as you were following him to the first ride he wanted to go on.

as he stared in awe, you were looking at the roller coaster in fear. of course, the brave jude chose the ride that flips upside down and with many drops.

"our first ride has to be the most memorable." he held your hand as both of you got into the line.

"i'm not surprised you chose this one. yet, i still kind of wish you chose something not as grand." the longer you stared at it, the more scared you got. jude could sense it since your grip on his hand tightened as people in the ride were going upside down and screaming in terror.

"i know you're scared, but you always got me. i promise it's not as bad as it looks."

"glad the food already digested, or else my stomach would've started doing flips." sharing a laugh, it was finally your turn. you buckled your seatbelt and took a deep breath to mentally prepare yourself. feeling a bit nervous, jude never let go of your hand. his smile gave you warmth and a new sense of comfort. as the ride operator was giving out instructions, your heart began beating very quickly. not in panic, but in excitement.

in a swift motion, the ride seemed to have blasted into the sky. you noticed jude's spark in his eyes with eye contact. all fear went away with you and jude's hands going into the air, still interlocked.

the most anticipating moment crept up. going upside down, you held onto jude, with a "what the fuck" slipping out of your mouth. laughter was heard everywhere during the drop with everyone on the ride was screaming for their lives. the adrenaline faded out with the ride ending. your boyfriend swinging your arms while trying to explore the park.

"holy shit y/n, we have to go on that ride again before we leave."

"definitely. good choice by the way." sharing your smiles, you walked towards the ride with the loudest music playing.

"what can i say, i know good stuff." giving a playful push to his shoulder, the carts were going backwards and forward to the rhythm of the songs.

after waiting for your turn, it was finally time. jude choosing which cart carefully. you got into the cart with him following behind. he was jamming to the song playing as it was the current trending song.

"i'm working lateee, cause i'm a singerrr." he sang the lyrics loudly with an imaginary mic in his hand.

"mhm, my favorite singer actually." giving a boost to his ego, the ride started. it started very slow, but as the lights began flashing faster, so did the ride. jude was squishing you into the little corner with all of his body weight on you. he couldn't control it, nor could he control his laughter. "JUDE! YOU'RE SQUISHING ME."

"i can't help it!" it was true, no matter how much he moved, you were still trapped. seeing the couple in front of you, the girlfriend was also having trouble. with uncontainable laughter, the ride came to a sudden stop. jude was confused and thought it was broken. within a spilt second, the ride began going backwards. it was much better because you were no longer stuck in the little corner.

jude held his hand out to help you get out the ride.

"sorry about that. nothing you aren't used to though." he winked at you.

"it was like carrying a giant baby. guess you at the gym really paid off. it's like you doubled in size, in a good way." jude flexed his arm and kissed his muscle. you rolled your eyes playfully and walked away. he hugged you from behind.

"getting kind of hungry. i see a stand selling churros and chocolate. how does that sound?" you nodded in approval. jude being jude, he wanted to practice his spanish speaking skills. he was showing improvement, and was proud of himself.

sitting down next to jude as he ate to his heart and stomach's desire, a little kid walked past. you whispered to jude that the child was wearing a camavinga jersey.

"i think number 5 is better than number 12, yeah?" he spoke as he took another bite.

"no comment." he looked at you in hurt, but he cannot hide a smile for his life.

zoning out, billie eilish's birds of a feather began to play.

I want you to stay

after throwing away the food, jude sat down again with his arm around your shoulder. putting your head onto his shoulder, you wanted to stay like that forever.

Cause it was always you, alright

he was touching your hand gently. playing with the jewelry you wore. a small smile appeared on his face when he realized it was the jewelry he got you for your birthday.

Birds of a feather, we should stick together

he held onto you tighter, giving kisses on the top of your head. he played with the strands of your hair. in this moment, both of you realized, you were his, and he was yours.

But if it's forever, it's even better

he got up after he felt the food digested. walking to the next ride, making sure to keep you close, always. he was very intrigued with the swings that went into the air. although it looked like a headache, it was the best way to relax like you're in the sky, just like two birds.

getting on the swings, it felt like you were a little kid meeting another kid at the park. most importantly, both of you shared interests and passion. soon, inseparable.

you reached for his hand as the swings rose up.

I'll love you 'til the day that I die

going at a faster rate, jude let out a little scream because he thought he was gonna hit the tree. out of all things, he was scared of going into a tree branch. he never failed to put a smile on your face. both of you synchronized swing your feet throughout the ride. the wind blowing into your faces. it was like blowing all your worries away.

seeing in the corner of your eye, you spot a photo booth. a perfect way to end the night. quickly after the swings were feet level, you grabbed jude's arm and sprinted towards the booth. he wasn't sure what was happening, but put his full trust into you.

approaching the booth, your excitement only grew.

"what faces should we make?" you chose which frame on the photos, while letting the most photogenic person out of you decide.

"i think we should do a nice smile, then a funny face."

"jude, that's only two out of four photos."

"y/n, we can freestyle the last two, obviously." matching your tone, you gave him a little side eye.

the countdown began. both of you showing off your pearly whites.

click!

"funny face!" you said as you stuck out your tongue with a peace sign over your left eye. jude on the other hand, stuck up his arms like his celebration and opened his mouth.

click!

you didn't have time to react, so you cupped his face with your hand and gave him a smooch on his cheek. he didn't complain.

click!

last picture, gotta make it worth it. he turned your face and kissed you lightly on the lips. you could feel his smile, which only made you smile.

click!

without hesitation, he went out the booth to collect the photos. it was perfect. you couldn't have asked for a better date.

"i love you, don't act surprised." the words spilling out your mouth, jude put his hands on his cheeks with an 'o' expression to act surprised. you wiggled your eyebrows at him as you made it towards the exit of the park. a perfect night with your perfect person.

——————————————

author’s note: long time no see! this is a product of a laptop and a latte. probably one of my longest works ever. kinda in my motivational era. i'm still surprised i wrote this within like 2-3 hours. thank you guys for the growing support. hopefully, more works coming soon. as always, safe reads!

#Spotify #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #football x reader #football imagine #football fanfic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x y/n #real madrid #loviingpedri

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scorpioriesling · 3 months

Text

Casual (pt. 1)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairings: Azriel x reader, light Cassian x reader

Warnings: drinking, smut allusions, light foul language

Summary: Usually not one to go out, you decide to try it out one night, knowing the Inner Circle comes to the bar you work at. You’re hoping to maybe see them during the hours you work… what happens if you see them when you’re off the clock?

SR’s Note: This one will most certainly have multiple parts as I tend to get carried away I’m SORRY <3 Heavily inspired by the song Casual by Chappell Roan… I listened while thinking this one up and writing it, if you wanted to listen while reading along!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Your weekly routine was generally the same; you worked behind the bar at Rita’s full-time, and spent most of your afternoons in the library— preferably, the wing that held the maps. Over the last few years, you’d taken an interest in Prythian’s history, and chose to spend extra time studying the geographical documents that had you’d become to intrigued by. Maybe, if you’d be able to learn enough and teach yourself sufficiently, you could get yourself a better job than mixing drinks from 9-5 each day at Rita’s.

It wasn’t all bad; for one, you really liked your coworkers. Your manager was cool, and the security of the bar left you feeling safe, even on the bad nights and weekends when you were asked to work a double or come in for extra hours. It wasn’t necessarily in the “bad part” of Velaris, if you could consider the lovely hidden city to have any “bad parts”— it was just an area that potbelly’s and drunkards liked to hang out until the wee hours of the morning.

Aside from the people you worked with, the customers were generally a good group too. A mixture of all kinds from the Night Court would come in, but what was most exciting was when the Inner Circle would visit — which happened more often than not, you had noticed. They started coming around more on Thursdays and Fridays, so you would casually hang around and chat with coworkers in hopes of possibly seeing the rulers of the court you called home a time or two.

Well, at least it started with that.

Then, you started picking up a couple extra hours on Thursdays. Maybe one or two, here and there. Just to cover rent and have extra spending money.

“How else am I paying for rounds later?” You teased, your closest coworker, Clayre, noticing the uptake in hours you’d started working. She’d only shrugged and shook her head at you.

“Just wondering. It’s unlike you; I figured you’d rather spend your weekends poring over those dusty pages in the library.”

A few extra hours wouldn’t matter, you still had the whole weekend off to yourself to spend studying those maps and working on bettering your knowledge. What would matter was when you changed not only the extra hours, but the lifestyle; not a party girl at heart, you finally started taking your coworkers up on their offers to hang out after hours, thus spending more time at your job and less in the library. This was a surprise to the people you shared eight hours of your every day with, but they were excited to finally get to hang out with you. Clayre seemed to think maybe something else was at play though.

“I’m just surprised you’re sacrificing any time you could have to be looking at those same old maps is all I’m saying,” she says, wiping down the bar one afternoon during a shift she shared with you. It was around 4:30 pm on a Friday, and you had plans to meet up with everyone here later tonight. She wasn’t wrong, by now she knew you well enough and knew you wanted a better life for yourself in your career; but she what she hadn’t caught onto yet was the master plan at play in other aspects of your life, which would involve getting out there more and meeting people. Rita’s was the place to be, the place to meet anyone and everyone, and seeing as it was a summer Friday night, it was a perfect opportunity.

“You’ve only got 30 minutes left; do you want to head out early and start getting ready?” She asks you kindly. Your eyes dart to the ticking clock hanging above the front door, and you suck your bottom lip between your teeth. She tosses the rag she’d been using into the sink behind the counter, and you glance behind her and see a few mixers that are looking a little low. The evening shift will have your asses if they aren’t full when they get there.

You smile at her. “Nah, I’m okay. It’s only 30 minutes. I’ve got a few things to finish up anyways. Do you want to go early today? Maybe pick up some food and meet over at my place?” You ask. She beams, happy that the kind gesture to leave early was returned to her.

“Absolutely!” She pulled the quill from the ink pot behind the bar, noting the time on the timesheet next to her name for the day. “Would you like anything in particular?”

“Surprise me.”

✧･ﾟ: *

“Y/N… that one is the one and you know it!” Clayre squeals and kicks her feet like a schoolgirl on your bed, staring at you from across your room. You stand in front of your closet, a short beige and brown dress hugging your curvy figure in all the places you’d liked. You’ll admit it; you bought this one on purpose, and dipped into your savings a little bit knowing this was the style of clothing that went along with the ambience that Rita’s offered during the summer months. Not quite a sundress, but not a gown either; not leather, but not too tight fitting that you couldn’t move. It was just… perfect. The colors looked gorgeous on you too and it didn’t scream for attention; and you had seen some questionable fashion choices in the past as a bartender. You’d taken a mental note to stay away from those.

“Well… I think you’re right.” You say, turning from side to side in front of your floor length mirror, admiring how the dress clings to the curve of your ass and shows off the body you’re blessed with. Clayre hops off the bed, skipping over to you and fluffing out your hair with her fingers. She drapes a few of your loose curls in front of your shoulders, the tendrils reaching just past the curve of your breast and framing the curve of your face the way you like. She grins.

“You’re getting laid tonight, that’s for sure,” she winks at you through the mirror. You laugh, your shoulders knocking against her as she begins giggling along with you. She steps over to your vanity and pops another sugared strawberry in her mouth, and then tosses the container in the trash.

“I wouldn’t look like this if it wasn’t for your help,” you start, glancing once more in the mirror. You usually opt for light makeup, but Clayre is so good at the dramatic stuff and she really helped you transform tonight. She swatted a hand in your direction, beginning to pick up loose clothing and makeup items from the floor.

“No, seriously. It takes me forever to curl my hair and I can’t do my makeup like this; you’re so good at it.” She smiles to herself and shoves her work uniform in her satchel, and you begin reorganizing your vanity. Peeking outside, you notice the sun setting.

“Hey, I can clean all this up later — we don’t have to do it now,” you say. Clayre props herself on the edge of your bed, pulling on a pair of pointed black heels. She narrows her brows at you.

“Y/N… you don’t want to bring a male back here later and the first thing he sees is your dirty clothes all over the floor, do you?”

✧･ﾟ: *

Rita’s was packed.

Like, line out the door, wrapped around the building, packed.

“Cauldron sacrifice me,” Clayre mutters as you approach the bar. You can hear the music coming from inside, neon lights flashing beyond the glass front door and illuminating the street in front of the entrance. Fae of all kind were in line ahead of you; from what you could see, some bore iridescent skin, some had wings, some with more elegant wear and some wearing plainclothes. That was the beauty of Rita’s; anyone was welcome.

Clayre stood on her tippy toes and peered around the line, trying to see around heads and bodies. You cast her a questioning look.

“I’m trying to see who’s on duty tonight for the front entrance,” she explained. “Maybe we can just walk to the front and walk in, you know, since we’re employees?” she says. You contemplate her words for a moment, and the line moves up by a few feet.

“I mean… ugh I don’t know. People will be mad if we cut right?” She rolls her eyes.

“I’m already hot and there’s like, 50 people ahead of us.” A group gets in line behind you, and you are unsure what to do. You don’t really get time to decide because Clayre is grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of line. You gasp at her.

“Clayre! We’re going to lose our spot-“ You say. As you pass person by person, you’re met with stares and given quizzical looks all the same. Clayre keeps marching ahead, drawing nearer to the entrance.

“Lionel!” She beams when we’re close enough to the security guard for him to register us butting in line instead of not actually being in it. He’s pulled from his 1000 yard stare at the sound of Clayre’s voice and he smiles bright when he sees her, a dramatic gasp coming out when he sees you. You roll your eyes at him and laugh.

“Y/N? Do my eyes beseech me?!” He raises the back of his hand to his head and pretends to faint, causing you and Clayre to chuckle. The group of fae females at the front of the line are staring burning holes into you, and you glance at one in particular, earning a scowl from her. Your cheeks heat a little bit, but you turn your attention back to your coworkers.

“I’ve finally pulled the moth from the depths of the dark library; she’s seen the LIGHT!” Clayre booms dramatically, and you swat her arm. It’s Lionel’s turn to let out a hearty laugh, and you can’t help but giggle. Once he’s taking big dramatic breaths, and calming down, you glance beyond the glass and notice your manager making his way toward the door. Hopefully he will allow someone in soon; you want the eyes still glaring at you to find different prey.

“Well, either way I’m glad you guys came out tonight. You ladies look great!” He says kindly. Clayre curtsys, and he shakes his head at her. Just then, the door swings open and your favorite manager Jeremiah opens the door. He had a clipboard and paper in one hand, not so much as looking up at Lionel as he holds up two fingers. Lionel stares at the two of you.

“I swear on the Cauldron, if you two get me fired-“

Clayre squeals and gives Lionel a quick side hug.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” She says before rushing inside. You stand on the balls of your feet and press a kiss to his cheek before rushing in after her, throwing him one last tiny wave and disappearing inside.

If Clayre thought it was hot outside, the air inside is sweltering. It’s warm and humid, feeling like the air in the jungle after a tropical storm.

That is, if the air also had laser beams shining through it and tendrils of smoke giving it a less than pleasant scent.

Clayre has clearly come here after hours before, as she’s bee-lining for the bar like she’s on a mission. You pass table after table, ones you’re accustomed to wiping down and serving day after day. The dance floor was already growing with bodies, jiving and thrumming with the bass-boosted music blaring from the speakers. One of the booths you pass has a “reserved” sign; which stinks. That one is your favorite, it’s the largest and in the corner, providing a little bit of quiet from the rest of the room. You thought you might snag it, if it was open.

Approaching the bar, you lean over to ask Clayre what she wants when the bartender Aleks saunters over to you both. The sleeves of his button down are rolled up, and you had to admit he was one of the more attractive males you worked with. He offered you a broad smile.

“Y/N! Wow, you look great — hey Clayre, a pleasure as always,” she smiles back at him, and it feels a bit awkward because usually she has some quip and you’re the one not speaking first. You take this time as your opportunity to start the conversation.

“Thank you Aleks,” you begin. He pours the green margarita mix into a glass with a perfectly sugary rum, and Clayre just stares at him while he does it. He takes note of it and smirks, glancing to you. “Be right back.” He says, walking to the other end of the bar to hand the drink to female in waiting. He makes his way back to you, and you look to Clayre. She swallows hard.

“Sorry I can’t chat with you ladies much tonight,” he says. “Unfortunately, I’m the only one on the schedule anddddd…” he gestures to the crowded room behind you. Your eyes widen.

“Damn,” you say. “I didn’t realize. Night are a lot different than days…” He shrugs.

“I mean, once they let everyone in for the night, Jeremiah said he’d be over here to help, but I mean, it’s whatever.” Clayre chews on her lip.

“Can I get a Blueberry Buzz?” she says. Aleks flicks his gaze to her and chuckles. Her cheeks redden, and I honestly don’t know what to think, I’ve never seen her like this.

“Make that two! I’ll have one too.” I say. He smiles and shrugs, the crowd around the bar only growing by the minute.

“Two Blueberry Buzzes,” he says, adding ice to two glasses he holds in one hand. “Do you want anything else while you’re up here? It might be a minute before I can talk to you ladies again.” He’s lightly shouting now, the chatter around us growing louder. Clayre shakes her head, but I decide not to agree with her on this one. I don’t need a slow burn tonight. I need to get fucked up.

“Can we also get two Lemon Wave shots and two shots of Whiskey Tango?” I ask. Clayre side eyes me, and I shrug at her. Alex sets down the glasses filled with the purple drinks, sprinkling edible glitter on top. I watch it swirl into the cocktail, and he slides the glasses across the bar to us.

“Two Blueberry Buzzes — had to make them pretty, for the prettiest girls in here, of course.” Your hand flies to your heart in fake admiration, though you do find the gesture sweet.

“Awwww!” You croon, earning a laugh from Aleks. “You shouldn’t have!” He grabs four shot glasses, working quickly with the two alcohols youd requested.

“And here…” he finishes the shots. “Are two Lemon Wave shots and two Whiskey Tangos.” He carefully hands two to you and two to Clayre, and she smiles shyly at him. He winks at her, and looks at you one final time.

“I can start a tab for you guys?” You nod, and take your beverages from the bar. You’d definitely be back later for more, but for now you needed to find a table.

✧･ﾟ: *

“All I’m saying is that if you just sit your lil butt on top of the bar and,” you can’t help but giggle. “…and tell him to pour it straight into your mouth, he might just bend you over right there, okay! I mean that’s all I’m saying!” You laugh, sending Clayre into a fit of laughter. She covers her mouth with her hands in embarrassment.

“He would literally never do that.” She finishes with a laugh. You’d been hanging out for thirty or forty five minutes, but the effects of the alcohol were already beginning to pulse through your veins. The warm feeling it was giving you was nice; you wondered why you didn’t come do this more often with your friends. This was quite fun; you can see why Clayre liked it so much.

Unfortunately, all the tables had been taken by the time you’d left the bar, so you opted to take the shots first and leave the glasses by the bar, now nursing the last remnants of your cocktail near the outskirts of the dance floor. Clayre tips her head back, draining hers entirely and wiggles the glass in front of you, rattling the ice.

“Catch up, sweets.” You roll your eyes, having mostly glitter water left in your glass. You finish it in one swallow, and you hold out your hand for Clayre to take your glass. She scoffs.

“Why me?” She asks. You grin.

“Because.” You give her a knowing look. You don’t even need to explain before she groans and takes it from you, trudging over to the bar and elbowing her way through people to get to the front. You see her small green dress disappear for only a moment before she’s back, and you’re shaking your head with crossed arms as she approaches. She throws her arms up in the air as she walks towards you.

“Whaaat!” She drawls. “I can’t talk to him now anyways, he’s busy.” She excuses.

“Tsk tsk.” You say, grabbing her hand. You look toward the dance floor, a small patch of flooring clear in your line of sight. “Come on — I wanna go dance.”

It’s not long before you’re back at the bar. And again. And again. To be fair, one of those times, you made Clayre go, but it “didn’t count” because Jeremiah was over there and took her order instead.

The effects of all the drinks you’ve had are in full swing as you’re thriving on the dance floor, arms in the air and swinging your hips. You’ve never felt so confident, never done anything so fun. Your bones feel like they’re made of air, and you’re on cloud nine. You feel light, airy, sexy, and just… good.

You’re feel so good, and so smart for coming up with a brilliant idea when the song you and Clayre are dancing to ends and you shout to her over the people around you. “My mouth is real dry Clayre!” She nods and sticks her tongue out. You laugh at her.

“Nooo Clayre — my mouth.” She’s giggling too, and pulls you close by the wrist.

“IM GONNA NEED MAYBE A DRINK.” She shouts. You smile.

“I need water!” You say back. She nods, then frowns. Then she shakes her head.

“Yeah I want some water but maybe another drink too. I don’t know. Let’s just go together.” She grabs onto your wrist and pulls you toward the bar. You thank the mother that it’s a little less busy now, and notice the clock on the wall reads 11:48. Aleks notices you, and Clayre drops your arm.

“Actually I’m gonna go pee real quick…” she says. You roll your eyes at her, just as Aleks appears in front of you.

“Hey stranger! How’s it going?” He asks. You lean on the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools. He grabs a glass, filling it with ice and dispensing clear water into it. You sigh as he slides it to you.

“Cauldron…” you practically moan and bring it to your lips, chugging half of it and setting it down. He’s chuckling at you, arms crossed over his torso. “Thank you.” He grins.

“You looked like maybe you needed it.” He rests his hands on the lip of the bar, staring at you as his smile grows. You can’t help but smile back and huff a laugh.

“What!” You say. He chuckles again.

“You didn’t answer my question Y/N,” he says, still grinning at you. You’re trying really, really hard to remember what he asked.

“Aleks… I’m going to be so honest with you right now, I do not even remember what you asked me.” He shakes his head, smiling at the ground. You catch sight of Clayre rounding the opposite corner of the bar from the bathroom, and you get yet another brilliant idea.

“Hey um you have to go over there to Clayre because she wanted to get a drink,” you say quickly. Aleks looks at you confused.

“Okay… isn’t she coming over here?”

Yes, Aleks. But if she’s over here with me, I’ll have to do all the talking and she won’t be forced to do any of it.

“No uhhhh….” You’re struggling to come up with an excuse. “She said she wants one at that end of the bar… like all the way down there so you gotta go over there.” You shoo him away, before Clayre draws any closer. Thank the Mother he actually catches her before she gets more than a few inches down the length of the bar, and he begins talking to her. You decide you’re not going to look — she can thank you later.

You’re sipping your water, the effect of all those drinks not lessening with the effort when a large, tan male takes a seat beside you. You’re quick to take him in; well, first of all, he’s huge. Even sitting, he towers over the bar. His shoulder length brown hair is halfway tied back, and he has a light brown stubble on the lower half of his face. His tight black pants are lined with a multitude of emptied bands pockets, for weapons that he must have unsheathed for his night out. He must be Illyrian.

Finally he clears his throat and turns to you, sparing you the action of speaking first. Although it is itching you why he’s sitting so close to you, considering all the other empty barstools up here.

“I don’t really know how to start these kind of things…” his voice comes out rough and gravelly. He keeps looking at the brick wall behind the bar, a hand scratching at his chin. You continue to give him a once over.

“Well. Uh, I guess I should probably introduce myself first, right? I’m Cassian.” He says, finally turning to face you. His soft brown eyes meet yours, and he truly is handsome. You give him a small smile, shifting on the stool so you’re knee-to-knee with the stranger.

“Y/N.” You say. He smiles back.

“Y/N. Alrighty… uh.” He clasps his hands together and you glance behind him. Clayre is finally talking with Aleks. Thank the Cauldron.

Your newfound handsome man seems to be stumbling with his words, so you decide to play it up a little bit. You lean over, bending at the waist and place both of your hands on his knees. In doing this, your elbows push together, exposing yourself in your already semi-revealing dress. Is it a little much? Yes. Is it something you’d ever normally do? No. Are we throwing morals out the window tonight? Absolutely.

You stare up at him innocently as his eyes widen, and you see him fighting to look anywhere but your face. He doesn’t have to; his pants are constricting enough that the bulge under his zipper is already beginning to grow. He swallows thickly, clearing his throat. He almost looks like he’s sweating a little.

“Ohh um… so I’m actually not over here for um. Myself, uh…” he chuckles, and you notice he sneaks a glance. Poor guy. His eyes wander right down the valley you’ve created, which doesn’t help his situation. Both pairs of eyes drift there next, and then you make eye contact again. You smirk.

“Hmm… are you… sure? About that? Because it seems like-“ You begin to draw circles with your pointer finger on his knee, and he’s near panting as he grabs both of your hands in his, cutting you off.

“No. I’m…” He takes a breath. “Really. I came over here just to ask if you have a mate or anything.” You smirk.

“Or… anything.” You drawl. He closes his eyes, almost willing his erection to go away. Touching you was a bad idea, even if it was in an attempt to make his situation better. He sets your hands gently back in your lap, and you continue to stare at him innocently. You lift yourself off the barstool, the back of your thighs starting to stick to the leather. Once you’ve peeled them off, you set yourself back down with a slight bounce, allowing Cassian to notice. You swear you can hear a tiny groan come from him at the sight.

“I will take that as a no.” He runs a hand down his face. “Listen Y/N, really, I started this whole thing off so wrong, okay,” he fumbles. You nod, smirking at him.

“It’s my friend that I’m asking for. He’s been kind of, well… he’s been attracted to you all night,” he finishes with a little laugh. You can’t help but laugh with him.

“Mhm, and this, friend,” you say. “Why hasn’t he just come talk to me himself?” Cassian shrugs, looking out at the dance floor, then back to you.

“Honestly, I don’t know why Azriel does half the things he does. But, what I do know is, he’s probably watching us right now and he’s going to kill me when I walk away from you.” He lets out an exasperated groan, and you raise an eyebrow.

Azriel.

Hmm.

“Sounds… charming.” You taunt. Cassian chuckles, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the action. He shakes his head and moves to stand readjusting slightly as he does.

“Just take my word for it, I suppose.” He says, looking down at you one last time with a grin. “I think you two will get along juuuust fine.” You roll your eyes and he stalks off. Whatever that means. You would’ve been fine going home with Cassian.

Clayre meets your eyes, hers filled with so many expressions. Aleks is nowhere to be found, and she mouths from one end of the bar from another.

“IM GOING HOME WITH ALEKS” she points to herself and the swinging door connecting the bar to the kitchen, presumably where Alex’s disappeared to. You give her a thumbs up and smile, silent clapping.

She makes a motion, outlining a huge mass with her hands and then shrugging and pointing to the barstool next to me.

“HE WAS CUTE” She nods her head slowly, eyes wide. I shake my head no.

“WHY?” She mouths back, just as the door swings open, Aleks walking through with his keys in his hand. The clock above the bar now reads 12:35, and Jeremiah follows him out, speaking happily to him and waving him off. He rounds the bar and offers an arm to Clayre, and she looks at you one last time over her shoulder excitedly before exciting out the back door with him. You look toward the dance floor, hoping to spot Cassian but unfortunately, he’s nowhere to be found. There’s no real point in waiting around without a friend, and you’d be damned waiting for a guy who hadn’t talked to you all night to come talk to you now.

You drain the last few sips of water you had left from the slowly melting ice, making to stand and head out when two large hands appear on either side of you, arms boxing you in. Your eyes widen, a cool presence behind you; shadows tickling your jaw and trailing over your collarbone. The scents of cool mint, sage, and sea salt invade your senses; clean, but dangerous. Soft strands of hair brush against the top of your ear as a low, seductive voice, cool as the ice left in your glass rasps:

“I don’t believe we’ve properly met.”

✧･ﾟ: *

Part 2