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#at this point i’ll just sound like a broken record if i do try to explain anything
seventh-district · 1 year
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i. am so goddamn tired
CW: i’m probably about to do a lil venting in the tags
#cw vent#cw vent post#vent post#vent#Seven.txt#Seven’s Public Diary#look at me meticulously tagging my vent posts like i’m not currently on the verge of a breakdown lmao#doesn’t matter how upset i am i still gotta try to tag things appropriately. which isn’t a standard i hold anyone else to but. y’know#i’m the exception to the rule. everyone else is allowed to be upset and make it everyone’s problem but when im upset i gotta bury it#in the tags of a little vague vent post that i heavily tag and then post it to my personal tumblr so the least amount of people will#potentially have to scroll across it. because i am. considerate of others to a fault and don’t wanna boooother anybody 🙃#anyways my thoughts are so scattered i can’t really make any sort of comprehensive explanation post regarding my recent absence#at this point i’ll just sound like a broken record if i do try to explain anything#i’m just. struggling right now. a bit more than usual. and i’ve never felt so drained- physically mentally and emotionally#i’m just so empty. i don’t have anything left in me my dudes. i feel like i’m trying to pour from an empty cup with every single thing i do#and this isn’t anyone’s fault in particular i’m just. not someone that can handle life’s demands very well#i feel like a very… broken person. but whatever. i don’t even want to talk about anything i just. wanted to say something.#i’m trying to at least be considerate of any of the kind individuals that still are aware of my existence and may have a passing thought#about me and wonder how i am or why i’ve gone silent again. it’s just. my usual bullshit. with even more ✨new✨ bullshit piled on top of it!!#and it took me several days to even make myself take the time to try and make this little announcement#i think. that maybe when i’m non-verbal (which is most of the time. i have a very weak voice from under-use and i can’t talk very loud#or for very long) i think it also sometimes extends to affecting my ability to even communicate through alternative means#(like texts and messages and whatnot) and i hate that! i really do!! i wish it wasn’t so damn draining for me to try to communicate!!!#like. i am a human being. we are social creatures. so why. am i struggling. with being social? when i crave it??? like????#i want to experience human connection but i often don’t have the energy to make myself do the things required to experience that.#anyways. once i learn to communicate telepathically it’s over for u bitches. u won’t ever get me to shut up /j#until then i shall sit here in frustrated silence and hope that no one takes it personally because i promise you it’s not#anyways yeah once again i will do my best to get back to people as quickly as i am able to and maybe one day i’ll get better at this whole#‘being a normal considerate human being that responds to people in a timely manner’ thing#okay. i’m gonna go uhhhhhh eat an ungodly amount of roasted asparagus. and i’m going to fucking bed
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celaenaeiln · 1 year
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JL: Nightwing! It’s a delight to see you! You should come by more often.
Nightwing: Thank you! I’m so sorry, work has been piling up on me but I’ll try to drop by the office party this Sunday.
JL: Ofcourse! Looking forward to seeing you there. By the way, is Batman coming late?
Nightwing: No, I’ll be filling in for him today.
JL: Did something happen?
Nightwing: Nothing much, he’s just grounded.
JL: ???
48 hours earlier
Dick: Bruce, I’m telling you now and we’ve had this conversation before but you need to build a better rapport with your children. They look up to you as a father figure and your actions influence their behavior.
Bruce: …hmrgh
Dick: And you might not be aware but you unconconscious behavior is damaging. Tim has picked up your terrible habit of constantly working in front of a screen-it’s going to strain his eyes. He’s always inside too, so you need to make him go outside more. I’m not always here, I have an entire city to run, the titans need me, I'm mentoring hundreds of heroes, the Justice League calls on me to help them, and I need to keep up with my social life. The people in Bludhaven where I teach and work also call me if I’m gone for a day-the point is-I can’t always be playing second parent here in Gotham.
Bruce: ……hmrgh
Dick: Damian always looks up to you
Bruce: *side eyes*
Dick: He does! See you don’t even realize it! He wants to make you proud and Jason gets mad when you don’t make time for him because he cares too. Stephanie doesn’t have a dad she can turn to and it would mean the world to her if you took her out to an amusement park or something. When was the last time you spent time with her.
Bruce: ….hmrgh
Dick: And-
1 hour later
Dick: -that’s why you need to stop working, go to them right now, and bond with them.
Bruce:
Dick:
Bruce: ……...hmrgh
Dick: I’m waiting.
Bruce: *dragging himself off the batcave chair and begrudgingly trudging upstairs under Dick’s watchful eye*
Bruce: *listening to the sounds of his kids in the living room and pumping himself up* Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. And Dick. Do it for him.
Bruce: *entering* *clearing his throat* Children. We will be going-
*The living room is in utter chaos. The cushions are strewn and ripped with stuffing coating the couches and floor which for some reason is stained yellow, the flower vase is shattered and so is the table it was sitting on, there’s string confetti on the chandelier, there’s spray paint and neon goo across the walls and in Tim’s hair, Jason has deep claw marks down his face as he wrestles with Damian who’s sporting massive bruise on his cheek and trying his hardest to bite him, Stephanie is dunking Tim’s face in a tub of soda which splashed everywhere while he’s ripping out Jason’s hair and also trying to kick Damian with his foot, the tv has massive spiderwebs and looping on tellatubies like a broken record machine, Titus is spitting out a feather while a random goose runs around honking while Alfred the cat chases after it at full speed, knocking down decades old paintings.*
Bruce:
Bruce:
Bruce:
Bruce: *rolling up his sleeves and stomping forward to join the fight* HMRGH.
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cherriegyuu · 8 months
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midnight rain | lsm
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pairing: seokmin x f!reader genre: angst, smut, a little bit of fluff word count: 17k summary: after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, oral, swearing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested the dearest @ressonancee. but also, it's part of svt ans songs from midnights. i just wrote two in one and something that was supposed to be short became this monster. i hope i wrote seokmin in a way you'll like it. prompt: “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do." Seokmin ➝ Midnight Rain He was sunshine, I was midnight rain ↳ it was the oldest story in the world, the bright boy fell for the grumpy girl.
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Letter #1
Seokmin,
You know, I've always been very proud of not being a very attached person. I've always been proud that I can put myself first and second, because I know I need to do it, because I know that no one else will do it for me. So, when I came here and dropped everything I had, I thought it would be a lot easier than it actually is.
When I turn around in bed at night, after days of trying to get used to the time zone and weeks to the weather and the people here — which are both bad and for completely different reasons, nothing is like in the movies — I always hope to find you there by my side and being able to snuggle up to you like I always did. I wake up in the morning and make enough coffee for two people and take two mugs out of the cupboard, and only then do I realize I'm alone here. I don't need two mugs and I made too much coffee. Sometimes, in the middle of the day, I find myself typing your number, which I have memorized despite the fact that no one remembers phone numbers, because phones exist for a reason.
You have no idea how much I miss you and what I would do to be able to hear your voice again. I would do anything, I swear I could. But I know I no longer have that right. I know that what I did is unforgivable and although I want your forgiveness, I hope you never forget what I did to you.
You were still good to me on the last day. You took me to the airport, you said goodbye to me, you hugged me tight like you know I like it and you did your best not to shed a tear in front of me.
Every now and then I catch myself thinking that I messed up. I could have done my master's where we graduated, I didn't need to move to the other side of the world and leave the life I knew behind. But at the same time, I accept it. Coming here was my dream, it was always what I dreamed of even when you were by my side as well. And maybe that's why I never told you about the application, about being approved. Maybe I waited until the end, until the very last second to tell you because I knew you were the only one capable of changing my mind.
When I was by your side, I started to dream of a different life, a life that had you at all times and in all aspects. But, as you may have already noticed, I chose my first dream.
I know I won't regret it. I can't afford to regret it. You’ll become who you always wanted to be and I’ll be there to give you a standing ovation. Not there, next to you, but from afar.
yn 
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“That was Sunday Morning, by Hong Joshua. Ah, whenever I hear this song I remember my college days. I've said this here a few times, and I think I sound like a broken record by this point, but Joshua and I went to the same college and he was always singing this song in the hallways. Any small gathering between friends he would pull out the guitar and sing. So I'm sorry, but you're going to have to listen to this song at least once a week for the next year. Or until he releases the next one.”
Seokmin looked at the monitor to his right as a pre-recorded commercial for the next show started. The comments were going up too quickly, which made reading them an almost impossible mission.
On the other side of the glass, Chan made a sign indicating that the commercial was over. Seokmin looked at his friend as he lowered one finger after another and finally pointed at him. Chan placed a sheet of paper, which was always used, against the glass, which said “last, chat”. Indicating that he still had one more question to answer.
“We have time for one more question” Seokmin said, opening the internal chat he used with the other radio employees and read the question that Chan had sent “I ended a relationship of almost four years a few months ago, but I still can't understand what happened. I haven't even returned his things yet. How do I get in touch saying I want to return it?”
Seokmin swallowed. He knew that Chan hadn't done it on purpose, that he had no way of knowing everything that had happened between him and you, but he hated how much the question resonated in his head. It was a feeling he shared and for him it had been a little worse because you lived together during your last year of college. So when he entered the house and saw all the furniture, the decorations, your clothes still in the closet, it was like entering a time machine. In that 30 square meter space, for a few minutes, you still hadn't left.
He took a deep breath, away from the microphone so the sound wouldn't be picked, and leaned forward.
“It's a difficult question, really. If it's been a few months and he still hasn't picked his things up, it's because he doesn't need them, so I don't think you should bother contacting him. Hmmm”
He bit his lip and rested his elbows on the table, thinking if he should continue talking or if it would be better to stop there. Seokmin always thought it was better not to let personal feelings show on the radio, but he had moments when he couldn't follow his own rules.
“I can tell you from experience that sometimes silence is better. Because if you know the truth, it could hurt you even more. When I was in a similar situation, after a while I simply discarded the person's belongings. At first, it will be difficult, because you’ll see that shirt you gave as a gift, that letter you wrote and remember what it meant, the moment you gave those things to him. But little by little you will achieve it. Don't feel obligated to just move on when you're not ready. People will always tell you that it's about time, that it's been so many weeks or months. You’re the one who knows about your feelings.”
Chan knocked on the glass again, almost desperate because Seokmin's answer had been too long. It wasn't the first time he had gotten lost in what he was saying and maybe had been talking in circles. It always happened that he remembered you when he answered a question.
And in that specific question he was being a hypocrite because he knew that if he opened his closet, deep inside it, he would find at least two boxes full of your things hidden. He rarely went near those boxes, he liked to pretend they didn't exist and most days he managed to achieve that thought. But there were other days…
“So we come to the end of another Cupid's Corner with Minnie. See you again next week. Cupid’s Corner with Minnie: Unveiling Love’s Melody, One Relationship at a Time!”
Seokmin removed his headphones, stood up, and waved at the cameras he knew were pointed at him. He grabbed his phone and the bottle of water he always carried with him. The red light above the door finally went out and Seokmin left the studio.
Immediately, Chan appeared beside him. He had just gone blond, and it strangely suited him.
He knew the youngest was desperate, not that he was doing a good job of hiding it. The disheveled hair, pointing in all directions, also helped a lot.
“You’re going to have a heart attack if you continue like this” Seokmin said laughing.
Chan was the newest employee, handpicked by Seokmin a few months before. Seokmin needed someone to help him organize the broadcasts after his previous assistant quit because she had gotten a job in the field she had studied. Seokmin even talked to her and offered a higher salary that would come out of his own pocket, but nothing seemed to help. Not that he blamed her, in her place he would have done the same thing. But in the position he was in, changes made him uncomfortable so he did what he could to make sure everything stayed the same.
Maybe it was trauma.
“It’s because they yell at me, not you.”
One of the reasons Seokmin chose Chan as his new assistant was his sincerity. In the middle of the interview he “I think there are things in your program that need to change” and started listing things that he thought were dated or ideas that had been used too much and therefore didn't have the same effect on listeners. The others had found him presumptuous as if he wanted to know more than those who worked at the radio. Seokmin disagreed and that's how Chan got the job.
“They yell at you because you’re the new guy, no one yelled at Jiah”
Chan made a sound in the back of his throat, like a scoff.
“That's because everyone was afraid of her” Seokmin rolled his eyes and reached for the folder Chan was carrying “Oh, right. Tomorrow is your lecture for the communication classes, but they said it is possible that students from other courses will also be there, because it’llll be in the auditorium”
Seokmin nodded, reading the guidelines Chan had made. He needed to admit that he was organized and had absolute control over everything he did. He was sure that if he asked about Wonwoo's program, Chan would know how to answer as if he worked directly with him.
“You know how it is, I have fans” Chan pretended to vomit “If you go tomorrow, we’ll go out to dinner later, I’ll pay”
"Deal"
Seokmin always found it strange to be called to give lectures at the college where he studied. He wasn't a teacher and he didn't think he had done enough to be someone who could give advice to someone. In fact, Seokmin was sure he hadn't done anything big. His life, to put it very simply, was flat. At least, almost all of his life.
Seokmin has always been the type of guy who makes plans and follows through on those plans. When he was sixteen he got it into his head that he wanted to work in radio. It wasn't without reasons, of course. He joined the school radio and despite doing very little, because the school director had to know everything that would be done, even the nouns he would use in the sentence, he fell in love with the idea. That's why he decided he should study journalism in college, that way even if his radio career didn't work out, he would still have a profession.
But his dream was to work on a radio, to have his own program. So that's what he did.
He entered college as planned, sunk into student debt, and graduated exactly as he had planned. In his last semester, he got an internship at the biggest radio station in the country. He was on cloud nine. It was as if he had received the green light in life and everything was on the right track.
At least that's what he thought. At least that was what he had forced himself to believe. The internship became a permanent position and one day he just happened to be in the right place at the right time. That's why he never felt prepared to give anyone advice. Despite having decided on the career he wanted to pursue, he knew that he also needed to count on a little luck and help. The only words he could offer were “you work hard, study, make contacts, and throw the rest into luck’s hands”. It wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to hear when he was a student looking forward to the future, so he certainly wouldn't say it to anyone.
However, Chan convinced him that it would be a good idea to give the talk.
“You’re going to tell me how you got here, that’s all. An unknown face who quickly went on air to cover someone for one of the most beloved radio broadcasters in the country. I'm sure if you say that shit fell on your head, they'll like it” Chan had said laughing.
Overall the lecture went very well. Better than expected. He answered the questions as honestly as possible and used his best smile to get rid of the more awkward questions.
Despite the good day, he knew he didn't want to repeat the dose anytime soon.
“They want to know if you would be willing to do one of these a semester” Chan whispered because he knew the answer Seokmin would give, so it was better for the students not to hear.
“No” was all Seokmin said “But I’ll still buy you dinner”
Chan punched the air in celebration, catching the eyes of those around him, but he seemed to care very little.
"I just…"
What Seokmin was about to say, an announcement that he needed to go to the bathroom, died in his throat as he looked straight ahead.
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Letter #2
Seokmin,
I thought I would be able to adapt faster here. It was very hard in the beginning with transport, getting around in general was very difficult. So I chose a weekend and went walking around the neighborhood where I live. I don't know how long I'll stay here, but I thought I should check it out. Besides, I can wake up in the middle of the night and decide that I want to eat something that I don't have at home, so it's good to know if there are any stores or markets that open in the middle of the night (in this neighborhood there aren't any, maybe that's why I won’t stay here).
I discovered that going out there, although productive, wasn't such a good idea. Nothing wrong happened, I didn't get hit on or someone was rude to me. Quite the contrary, most people pretended they weren't even seeing me. The problem was that everything made me think about you.
I walked by the store that sold a lot of random old things and decided to go in. You know I love filling the house with trinkets. I didn't find anything there that I liked, but I saw that they were selling camera films. For a moment I forgot everything that had happened and all I could think was, I think Seokmin is running out of film, I need to buy more because he will only realize when he doesn't have any left.
I bought it and brought it to the apartment. I opened the door and called your name. It was only later, when I noticed where I was, that it wasn't our apartment, that I realized what I had done.
Even without meaning to, even when I try not to, I find myself looking for you. Everywhere. I go to a restaurant and think about what you would like to eat, I see a dog on the street and I imagine you bending down to pet it. It's not on purpose, I just can't help it. I try, but it's in vain.
I wonder if it will pass. Will this feeling that I succeeded in my career but ruined my personal life disappear or will I feel like this forever — or at least for a good few years?
yn.
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It was as if all the air had been ripped from your lungs and there was no way in the world to get you to breathe.
Somehow, some way, Seokmin was standing in front of you, in the middle of the college hallway.
For a moment it was as if you had been transported back in time, to when you were still 22 years old. In another moment you would have simply run up to him and thrown yourself into his arms as if you hadn't spent the whole night clinging to him, as if you hadn't seen each other before classes, as if you hadn't shared the smallest space in the world on the subway for 20 minutes. And your body seemed to remember all of this, like some kind of muscle memory, because you felt like you were being projected forward. Towards him.
You thought Seokmin would talk to you, you were sure he would. But you saw the way his gaze changed, the way it went from complete surprise to a hard look, completely different from anything you had ever seen from him.
In your memory, Seokmin was always brilliant and was always willing to welcome everyone with open arms, even when he felt more shy. You didn’t understand, that look he gave you was completely different from what you imagined could happen.
When you made the decision to return, you knew that there was a possibility of meeting Seokmin, no matter how small it was. You didn't know if he was still friends with the same people, if he still kept in touch with them. You certainly hadn't kept in touch with anyone - except for the two times you talked to Joshua. The possibility existed, but being realistic you knew it was as big as winning the lottery.
Of all the places you thought you could find Seokmin, college was the last one and maybe that was even why you accepted the job. When you were taking the last tests, the ones that would say whether you would graduate at the end of the semester or not, Seokmin was categorical in saying that he would never set foot inside college again. So you thought it was a place he would never go, but there he was. And in your first week, when you needed everything to go well. Not to show that you were ready and that you could do the job, but to reassure yourself that you had made the right choice in accepting the job.
You didn't have time to decide whether to talk to him or not. Seokmin made the decision for both of you. He continued walking as if you weren't there, talking to the boy next to him, laughing. The only indication that he knew who you were was silent once and one that only you could distinguish.
He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.
Was it possible that only you had felt that way? That just your heart had decided it didn't know how to beat, as if a storm was raging inside your body?
You didn't have time to analyze what had just happened. You just forced yourself to take a deep breath and also keep walking as if those brief seconds weren't enough to make your entire world turn completely upside down.
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Seokmin dragged his feet into the room, tripping over the rug at the foot of the bed. A curse came out of his mouth, followed by a burp. When he invited Chan to dinner he had no intention of ending the night drunk, being carried home like someone who had just had his first drink.
It had been years since he had gotten that bad and it was comical that the previous occasion was also connected to you.
The memory of leaving you at the airport, on a flight in the middle of the night, was still vivid in Seokmin's mind. Worse than that memory, was the one of you telling him that you had gotten a place in a master's degree on the other side of the world, 18 hours before leaving the country.
“I need to tell you something” you said as he pulled his coat over his head and patted his pockets, making sure he had grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone. He needed to leave as quickly as possible, he was already late.
Seokmin had plans to ask you to marry him. He had rented a house where you could spend the weekend, where it would be possible to see the stars. He had prepared himself, but he needed to leave right that second so he would have enough time to go to the house, get everything ready and come back to get you. The owner of the house would help him, since Seokmin decided that he wouldn't tell any of his friends because they might just ruin the surprise.
“I'm already late” he said, quickly looking at his watch. "Did something happen?"
He asked, noticing your already somewhat desperate look. He knew that whatever had happened couldn't be good.
To be honest, he had noticed that something was wrong a few weeks before, and for a while, he decided it would be better not to get into it too much. He knew you well enough to know that you would offer the information when you felt ready to do so. But thinking back on everything, he wished he had asked before, he wished he hadn't given you space, he wished he had forced you to talk to him sooner.
“I passed my master’s degree abroad”
Seokmin’s first reaction was to be happy for you. He knew how much you wanted that, that it was your dream. So he did what any boyfriend would do, he hugged you and congratulated you, told you that you had tried so hard and that they would be idiots not to accept you. The feeling was true and his smile was genuine. He was happy for you.
Knowing what he knew, every now and then Seokmin wondered if he would have done anything differently if he knew what the next words would be out of your mouth. He could have made a fuss, he could have begged you to stay, he could have offered to go with you. But at the time he didn't do any of that.
“I’m leaving today, I need to be at the airport at 11 pm”
Seokmin's ears rang deafeningly. It was as if he had been punched and needed to brace himself against something. The sofa was the closest piece of furniture.
He thought he heard it wrong, he wished he was dreaming, but all he had to do was look at you. It was true. It was as if a puzzle was being completed in Seokmin's mind. The way you had suddenly become distant, how every time he entered the room you hurried to change or close whatever you were looking at on the computer. He didn't even know you signed up. He imagined that you must have done some kind of test, some interview and he didn't even know anything about it.
He had no idea.
Had he been a bad boyfriend, someone who was so focused on making the long-awaited proposal that he had ignored everything else? Or had you hidden it so well that he hadn't noticed?
"What? You’re leaving today?"
It was like the world was spinning too fast and he was trying to keep up with what was happening. It was like being on a roller coaster that kept on falling. He remembered well how the little box with the ring he had carefully chosen weighed in his pocket.
“I didn’t even know you had applied for a position” he whispered, almost just to himself “You didn’t tell me”
And it was at that exact moment, when he looked at you, that Seokmin realized that your relationship was over. You avoided looking at him, your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your coat, which was his. He saw your eyes fill with tears, you swallow hard, and remain silent.
It was unlike you, to stay quiet when you had too many things going through your head. He desperately wanted you to talk to him, to tell him what had been going through your head. He just wanted to understand. Did you believe he would somehow stop you from going? If there was one thing he knew about you, it was the fact that you always put your education first. It wasn't a secret and you didn't want it to be. He just didn't expect things to happen that way.
Seokmin sat in front of the closet, on the floor, and with difficulty opened the doors. Deep in the back, behind several shoe boxes, were two old boxes that he hadn't moved in years. Part of him wished the things inside the boxes were ruined, that they had mold and anything else that could ruin its content. But he had been careful, kept everything in order, taken all necessary precautions, and cleaned the closet periodically.
He ignored the first box and pulled the smaller one towards him, placing it on his bent legs. Seokmin wasn't one to revisit those memories, he liked to keep them as far away from him as possible, but on nights like those, it was impossible.
Seokmin knew what he would find and was sure how he would feel, but he still took the lid off the box, but he didn't dare take out any of the items inside it.
He knew he had reached his lowest point when he was holding on to memories he had of you and not focusing on what was actually happening in his life.
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Letter #3
Seokmin,
I talked to Joshua today. Talk is a bit too strong of a word. We exchanged a few words on Instagram. He posted a photo and I liked it, he sent me a DM asking if I was ok and how things were going. I lied, of course. He said everything was fine and he was happy. He didn't talk about you and I didn't ask.
It was very hard to contain myself. I want to know how you are. The more selfish part of my brain wants you to be just as bad as I feel. You know that little demon that sits on our shoulder? He assures me you're even worse. And I hate to think that's the case, but at the same time, I'm sure you're not okay. I know you, we dated for four years, we lived together for almost two years
You were always the more emotional one of the two of us. You were never afraid to show your feelings, not for me or anyone else. You always loved so openly, without any fear. I admit that at first, it scared me a little.
I was an 18-year-old girl who came from a family that had no idea how to show affection, so I was always more reserved in that aspect. And there you were with your beautiful, bright smile, with open arms, affectionate with anyone who came along. I thought you were a crazy person who didn't have the slightest notion of the world. It took a while for me to realize that your world was brighter than mine in ways I couldn't understand.
You were always so untethered, free, showing yourself to anyone who had eyes. When I was closed and more reclusive, you were open and expansive. When I was very shy or reserved, you were more charming and brighter than usual. Not even my worst mood, which seemed endless at times, was a problem for you.
One day you just showed up and decided that you would stay by my side, no matter what. Believe me when I say, I tried to push you away. But with each passing day you were further under my skin.
A kiss at a random party turned into a date at every party, parties became meetings at the college library, which led to coffee dates. One day you decided at the end of each date you had to take me back to the dorms and you kissed me for a long time on the side of the building where no one could see — or at least I made myself believe no one did. Then that alone wasn't enough and you were always with your fingers intertwined with mine, or your arm around my waist. And kisses were no longer reserved for empty streets, of course not. You kissed me anywhere, anytime, no matter who was watching.
You were sneaky, Seokmin.
When I realized it, I was in love with you. Your arms were my refuge. You were my safe space. My home.
yn.
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You hated that Seokmin’s reaction, or lack thereof, had gotten to you so much. It was like being punched, and then one more, soon the punch became a beating and to finish with a flourish, it was as if a truck had run over you.
You had plans to go out at the weekend, though alone. Everything was so different, the places you knew no longer existed and friends from the past no longer spoke to you. You would have to rediscover the city without anyone's help. Despite your plans, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the house.
When you decided to return, you knew there would be no way to escape Seokmin. He had become successful not only in his career as a broadcaster but also as a celebrity of sorts. You never imagined you would see his face in magazines or on billboards selling fried chicken. You didn't expect that when you turned on the TV you would see his face in different programs.
In fact, you knew all of that was happening, but somehow you managed to convince yourself that you wouldn't have to see any of it. You managed to make yourself believe that you would not be haunted by his images and voice.
When you were away, you always listened to his programs, more than once each one, but it was almost like a relationship between fan and celebrity. You could separate very well what was him and what was you. But being there, in the same country, in the same city, it was much more difficult to make that separation.
Because once you were back, Seokmin was no longer just the radio host with a show about relationships. Far from it. Seokmin was your college sweetheart, the guy whose heart you broke but who, even after seven years, was still in love with.
That was the reality. you were still in love with him. There was no relationship in the world, no man in the world, that would have made you forget about Seokmin. Sometimes it worked, sometimes you managed to forget about him for a few months and that feeling of loss, of emptiness, that had settled deep inside your heart became smaller and smaller. And then it would come back full on as if it had never left.
Maybe that was your curse, your punishment for leaving behind someone you could have spent the rest of your life with. And somehow you knew you would have been happy. Or at least a different kind of happiness.
After spending the weekend holed up inside your apartment, after convincing yourself that you needed to prepare for teaching classes and unpacking the move, she decided that on Tuesday night she would explore the city.
Exploring wasn't the right word. You had discovered that one of your favorite restaurants still existed, it had just changed location. And, despite being on the other side of the city and being completely aware that you would have to pay a fortune for a taxi or risk taking the subway alone almost at closing time, you decided to go anyway.
You needed to feel like one thing hadn't changed, or at least still be recognizable.
You heard your name being called a few minutes after sitting down. You raised your head, recognizing the voice, but couldn't tell who it belonged to. Directly in front of you was a woman, with short hair, in her fifties.
“It’s really you!”
You stood up and a second later you were being hugged. Maybe you had gone there for that reason, knowing that there would be someone there who would recognize you. Or at least you hoped there was. And when you were welcomed with open arms by her owner, Niah, you wanted to cry for the first time in a long time.
“Hi” was all you could offer, your voice weak.
You quickly turned your face away, trying to be discreet as you wiped away your tears. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of someone else. Tears were reserved for dark moments in the silence of your apartment, they weren't meant to be seen by people you didn't even know in a crowded restaurant.
“Look how beautiful you look. You haven't been around for so long. Seokmin told us that you had gone abroad to study, but I thought you would come back sooner.”
You just managed to smile, even though it was embarrassing. It was strange to hear his name coming out of someone else's mouth so easily. For years, his name was just an echo in your own mind, almost as if it were a fantasy of yours.
There were days when you managed to convince yourself of this, that Seokmin was nothing more than a dream.
“Are you just visiting or are you back to stay?”
“I'm staying” you said after a second, when you managed to find your voice again “I got a job here, I have nowhere to run”
Niah laughed and hugged you once again, tighter this time.
"Great, that makes me happy. We always miss you” Niah smiled and ran her fingers down your cheeks, brushing away some tears that were stubborn to fall “What do you want to eat? Today it's on the house. Consider it a welcome gift.”
You took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in your throat and the remaining tears.
"What do you recommend?"
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The amazing thing about meeting Niah again was that she still acted exactly the same way. She didn't see you as someone who had simply packed a suitcase of clothes and left the country overnight. To Niah you were still that same person from 7 years ago who ate whatever she put in front of. You and Seokmin were always guinea pigs for all the new recipes.
The food was still wonderful, if anything it had just gotten better.
You had a fork halfway to your mouth when you heard the door open, the sound of the bell indicating the entry of a new customer. You almost instinctively turned to look. You choked on your own saliva when your eyes met Seokmin's.
It was as if you were back in the hallway that day. Your heart simply stopped, and the world fell into suspension. For a moment, it was as if you had been transported to the past. You were almost certain that if you looked at the table you would see books open next to the cutlery; you knew that if you looked at Seokmin for another second or two his face would break into the most beautiful smile, he would wave and call your name.
But your illusion shattered into small pieces as his neutral expression contorted into a frown. With the same foot he entered he turned to leave.
“Seokmin!” you called him, getting up from your chair.
Part of you thought he was going to continue out the door, but he stopped. Half of his body was outside the restaurant, the other inside.
“Hurry up and close that door!” Niah said leaving the kitchen “You’re letting out all the heat”
Even with Niah's voice calling him, Seokmin remained standing at the door. You sat back down, but without taking your eyes off him. He didn't know what he expected of him, but he felt an indescribable relief when Niah pulled him by the sleeve of his coat and forced him to sit in front of you.
“The restaurant is packed, so you will have to share a table” she said as she turned her back.
Seokmin shook his head, clearly against sitting there, staying in the restaurant, but he still took off his coat and hung it on the chair before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
It was clear he was working out, his shoulders had gotten broader and his arms bigger since you last saw each other. You almost laughed at the pose, remembering all the times you had seen him in a similar situation. But this wasn't the time to laugh when everything else was screaming that he was uncomfortable with the situation, that he didn't want to be there.
It didn't take a genius to know that Seokmin wanted nothing to do with you. His reaction to seeing you in the hallway the week before and the way he was looking at you in that moment were enough answers.
You felt like the walls were closing in around you and there wasn't enough air in the room.
What were you thinking when you called his name? What were you thinking when you silently watched Niah pull him inside? Why were you still sitting there?
A waiter who worked with Niah passed by your table and you called him discreetly, not wanting to attract the attention of the restaurant owner.
“Can you wrap everything to go, please?” you turned to Seokmin “You can have the table. I was already leaving”
It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.
Seokmin laughed lowly, scornfully, his sideways smile making the hair on your arms stand on end. In general, Seokmin has always been the type of guy who didn’t lose his cool easily, who would always rather let things go than have any kind of confrontation. But when he really got stressed out or nervous, it took a while for him to calm down again.
You had seen that storm in his eyes very few times in the years you spent together. The last one was when he went to the airport to say goodbye to you. That day the storm was just confusion and pain, you knew you had done that to him. But he sat there in the restaurant, in front of you, in silence while the people around him chatted animatedly, completely oblivious to what was happening between the two of you.
"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.
“Ah, nothing” he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture “It’s just like you to do that”
You narrowed your eyes at the same time you felt your cheeks get hot.
"Do what?"
"Runaway"
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Letter #4
Seokmin, 
It took me almost a year to convince myself that it was okay for me to look at social media. I convinced myself that every woman does this, that every now and then we look at our ex-boyfriend's Instagram, just to find out if his new girlfriend is ugly. I've told you this several times, but every female experience is universal.
I wish you were one of those low profile people, who post a picture every 6 months and it's a cut mango on a pretty plate. I wish you hadn't posted so many pictures. But more than anything, I wish I hadn't spent hours and hours looking at the photos. I wish I hadn't been analyzing every photo of you, I wish I hadn't thought “that's a new mole” and wondered which others had appeared since the last time we saw each other.
I had memorized every mole of yours. On your face, on your arms, on your back. On the worst days, when I missed you in a way that almost made me give up everything and go home, I kept remembering each one of them. I tried to remember the sound of your laugh, your voice, how you stroked my hair until I fell asleep when it wasn't a good day.
I keep wondering if one day this feeling will just go away.
It's been a year since I left. I went out with other guys, and I almost dated one of them, but you're always there in the back of my mind, almost comically because even against my will I can't help but compare them to you. I can't help but think that only you know how I like my coffee, how only you know that if I'm in my worst mood, there's no joke in the world that can make me laugh.
I know it's not fair to them. I gave you the chance to get to know me, I allowed you to get closer. I wanted you to come closer to me. Now I wonder if you're doing this for someone other than me.
I like to imagine that you also compare other women to me, that even now that you're dating I stay there, in the back of your mind, making fun of you.
Unfortunately, she's not ugly, but your smile was brighter when I was next to you.
yn.
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To say that Seokmin had spent the rest of the week in an envious mood was an understatement. He was stressed and everyone around him soon noticed the change. He really tried not to let his personal life get in the way of his work. It was something he never struggled with. Work was work, what happened when the lights went out and he left the radio should never cross paths with each other. That week, however, it was impossible.
Meeting you at the restaurant caught him off guard. That day in the college hallway had been difficult, but he managed to just keep walking as if nothing had happened. He liked to pretend like he hadn't gone out with Chan right after and drank like there was no tomorrow, like he hadn't opened the boxes he had kept for years and cried while looking at the photos of the two of you together.
He had gone to the restaurant that day because he needed some form of comfort and didn't want to call any of his friends because he knew he would end up telling them everything that happened and would receive advice and words he would rather not hear. The restaurant was the best idea he had. Or maybe the worst possible one.
Maybe he had done it consciously, because he wanted to see you one more time, and wanted to make sure he hadn't imagined you. It wouldn't have been the first time.
In the first few months after you left, Seokmin got into the habit of visiting places he went with you, or places you liked to go alone. It was probably a form of torture, but he liked to imagine it was a way to forget and overcome the breakup. On several of those days, he believed he saw you. He realistically knew it wasn't you, he clearly remembered seeing you get on the plane and waited until it took off to leave the airport.
The worst thing that could have happened to him was you calling for him. Seokmin couldn't help but wonder if he had always reacted that way to you, if your presence was always so great that before he even saw you he knew you were nearby. That day, as soon as he opened the door, before he even saw you sitting there with your eyes wide open, he knew. He knew you were there.
The last thing he expected from you was you saying his name, as if asking him to sit with you, that Niah, knowing how the relationship had ended, would have made him sit in front of you.
Seokmin noticed your discomfort, the way your spine had become a little straighter, the way your eyes were hard and cautious at the same time. Your reaction made him angry. What right did you have to behave that way, as if you were hurt when all the decisions regarding a relationship both of you were in had been made by you?
You were the one who signed up for a master's degree abroad. It was you who never told him about your decision. It was you who kept everything secret, making him believe that the two of you were on the same page and that despite your different goals, you would be able to pursue them together.
Turns out he was wrong, those dreams were just his and didn't include him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chan asked for the thousandth time.
For the first time in a long time, Seokmin was having a hard time hiding how he really felt. That polished, carefully carved mask had fallen. It was a completely atypical day and everyone was able to notice his sudden change in mood. Even Chan, who normally did a great job of ignoring all the problems around him and focusing solely on his work, seemed to be walking on eggshells around him.
“It’s really obvious, isn’t it?” Seokmin asked in a low voice and Chan just nodded "And if I pretend it's because of the new segment, will anyone believe it?"
Again, Chan nodded. Since he had started the program, 3 years before, Seokmin would receive calls and speak directly to listeners. Although there were always interactions, those were always done through live chat and email when he received questions or stories from people who were not listening to the program when it was airing.
Seokmin wasn't nervous about the idea, he was actually excited. Chan knew this and knew that whatever the problem was, it was still the same as the day of the lecture. He didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to seem invasive, but he still wanted to make sure Seokmin was okay — or at least, well enough to do the program.
“I think everyone is already thinking that” was a lie and even Seokmin knew it, but he was grateful.
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“You may already know this, but today we will start a new segment. We'll call it the heart to heart helpline, at least until we find a better name at least” Seokmin's voice and laugh resonated through the taxi “We'll take your calls and some of you will be able to talk to me and ask your questions live, instead of by chat. Each person will have a maximum of 2 minutes and we will answer 6 calls today”
You had left the house completely willing to avoid anything related to Seokmin. Realistically, you knew you couldn't do anything about the billboards and his face at bus stops, but you could very well avoid his radio show. And for a few weeks you had managed to do just that.
That day at the restaurant had almost been a cathartic moment. Somehow, it was as if something had clicked and fallen into place. The Seokmin you left behind no longer existed. It had been a naive thought to think so. You didn't expect that he would still be exactly the same person, of course not. Seven years had passed and Seokmin, like you, was approaching his thirties. Obviously, many things had changed, but you still expected to see traces of that 22-year-old boy you had known and loved.
You didn't spend more than five minutes with him at that table. And it was much more than enough. He had accused you of running away, of continuing to do this for years. Of course, that could be his view on everything, but it was never your intention. The only problem was that you hadn't been able to tell him those things. You had been so lost and so completely helpless in front of him that you had forgotten that you knew how to speak and form sentences.
You had spent years of your life writing letters to him, letters that he would never read, but that was beside the point. You wrote letters as a way to appease the emptiness you felt in your heart. You never, not for a second, thought you were running away. You never wanted to run away, but Seokmin seemed to believe you did.
In a sudden burst of anger, you took your phone out of your bag and dialed the number Seokmin spoke on the radio. You didn't expect your call to go through. In fact, you didn't even know what you expected.
“Please wait a minute, we will connect your call” a non-robotic voice said as you paid for the taxi.
Seokmin was still chatting animatedly with a listener who didn't have a real question, but who “just wanted to say that I really liked your show and that I’m a fan.” It was impossible not to roll your eyes. If she, and everyone else, knew how much of a complete asshole he could be just because he had the opportunity, they would never want to see his face again.
Or maybe they would team up against you in favor of the immaculate Seokmin. God knew how easily a man could turn public opinion in his favor with a beautiful smile. And God was also a witness that Seokmin's smile was simply wonderful, one that took your breath away, one that made you smile along because it was contagious.
“Welcome to the heart to heart helpline” Seokmin’s voice sounded in your ear “What’s your question?”
You didn't really think that your call would get through to Seokmin, you didn't think the signal would be good enough inside the elevator, but none of that seemed to be a problem.
“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You knew you were going really crazy, but you decided to throw caution out the window and be the crazy person everyone used to believe you were.
“Yes, I’m here” you could have sworn, that even over the phone, you felt Seokmin tense up “It’s a question about an old relationship, we broke up years ago, if that’s okay”
You struggled with your keys, trying to unlock the door as quickly as possible. You needed to get to your computer or tablet, whichever was closer. It was almost a physical necessity to see Seokmin's reaction to your voice, your question.
You always knew how to tell if he was truly calm or if he was masking what he was feeling. You wanted to know if you still had any other sort of effect on him. Whatever it was, it was better than angry disdain.
“Old relationships should stay in the past, don’t you think?” he finally said.
You nodded as you ran into your room. You knew you would find the tablet under your pillow — you were sure that if your mother saw it she would say that your brain would explode due to the radiation from the device. With a few taps, you opened the stream of Seokmin's program.
“I think so. But the problem is that we keep seeing each other. I don’t think it’s something either of us want, but it seems inevitable.”
You turned the sound off, you just wanted to focus on his reactions. Seokmin swallowed hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixed on the microphone in front of him. To anyone, it just seemed like he was concentrating on the call, on what the person on the other end of the line had to say, but you knew very well that it was to hide his reactions.
"Your question?"
“Well, he called me selfish and said I ran away when we broke up, but that's not exactly what happened. I wanted to talk to him, but I don’t think he wants to listen to me.”
Seokmin took a deep breath and seemed to think about what to say next, his eyes no longer on the microphone, but on the ceiling.
“And why does he think that about you? You probably gave him reasons, don't you think? I don’t think anyone would think that about someone without anything having happened.”
“I always dreamed of studying abroad, so when the opportunity came, I went. I…"
“Did you tell him you were going?” Seokmin clenched his fists on the desk, his fingers gripped the pen in his hand tightly until his knuckles were white. “Did you give him a chance to say something or did you just walk away?”
You were speechless, eyes focused only on Seokmin. The way his hair perfectly framed his face, his sculpted thin nose. He was still exactly like he was seven years ago, just somehow different. He was the same, but he also wasn't.
You hadn't given him the chance to say anything, you had just walked away, but because you believed it was the best thing to do. You would have stayed if he had asked, I would have aborted all of your plans for him,
“Long distance relationships don’t work” you said finally, your voice lower “especially when there’s an ocean separating people”
“I'm going to guess and say that you were together for a while because I don't think anyone would care that much about a quick relationship” his voice became more sober, completely in control of his emotions, the opposite of what you felt,  like you were enclosed every second that passed “I agree with you, long-distance relationships don’t work. Different cities are already complicated, I can't imagine what it would be like to be with someone who lives in another country. You didn't give many details, but I believe he had reasons to feel that way, just as you had your reasons for leaving without warning. I think the best thing for both of you is to let it fall into oblivion. It makes no sense for either of you to dwell on these feelings. Maybe your desire to talk exists because you think you've left things open with him, but he may think that what's in the past shouldn't be remembered. Maybe you're just a bad relationship he wants to forget.”
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Letter #5
Seokmin
I found out by chance that you now have your own radio show. One day it was an empty slot in the schedule and the next it was your voice. To my joy and delight, it was one of those programs that also had video streaming. I say joy and delight in a very ironic way.
But I'm not lying when I say I'm happy for you. You always said it was your dream and in a way, here we are, achieving our dreams. It would have been better if we could have lived through this together, I think. Maybe if that were the case I wouldn't have this empty feeling inside my chest.
But I discovered a long time ago that I can't keep crying over spilled milk. I left and you moved on with your life. They were conscious choices, I knew what I was doing. I knew that making this choice would have hurt both of us, but I also knew that we could overcome it. It's just taking longer than expected. I honestly thought that by this point, so many years later, we would have been able to live as if the past were just that, the past.
But it's not like that for me or for you.
I may be completely crazy, but your show is about love advice and how to deal with heartbreak. Sometimes, when I hear you talk, I'm sure you've already dealt with all your feelings, after all, you've had other girlfriends. But there are other moments, when you answer a question or when you read one of the pre-written texts when I'm sure that what you said applies directly to what we both had.
I'm going crazy, aren't I?
It's been four years since I left. I already finished my master's degree and started my PhD, exactly as planned. I have a date tonight with a guy who seems genuinely nice, but here I am, writing yet another letter that will never be sent to the guy I was in love with.
What am I still doing?
yn
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Seokmin had always believed that for a relationship to truly end there must be no trace of it anywhere. When he told his listeners that they should get rid of items, it was not a lie. He was just terrible at following his own advice. The old story of do as I say, not as I do.
Finally, he decided it was time to take his own advice. With a little pain and resentment added to the mix, of course. At this point, he wondered if he could already be considered a masochist or if he still had a few boxes to tick to get the title.
Getting your address had been easier than expected. All he had to do was ask Niah, who offered the information without any resistance.
“Being thirty didn't make either of you any smarter,” she said as she leaned across the table and wrote the address on the napkin.
“Almost thirty” he felt the need to correct her, but decided he would ignore the hidden message in her words.
Seokmin never stopped going to Niah's restaurant. It was there that he had cried his sorrows over the cheapest drinks possible, he didn't have the money to pay for the good ones, while Joshua tried to console him. He had never seen Niah so stressed and angry. She hadn't said anything, but you could clearly hear the sound of her cutting the vegetables more aggressively than necessary.
Little by little she became calmer about the situation and started talking about you with the same affection as before. Seokmin always thought she had somehow kept in touch with you, or at least found a way to get your number or a way to contact you. At first, he had been angry, but somehow he believed he didn't have that right. It was only after a year that Seokmin decided to ask and the answer he received was “if I still had contact with her, I would have already screamed at her about disappearing without telling anyone”.
Asking Niah for your address was the only option he had. He refused to go to college, where you worked. He didn't know what would happen, whether you would be friendly with each other or the conversation would end in a shouting match just because. Because after years of no contact and considering the way things ended, it was pretty obvious that resentment could resurface — at least Seokmin had resentment up to his neck and knew that not releasing them all at once required almost inhuman self-control. 
He looked at the building one more time before getting out of the car. It was one of those without a doorman. Seokmin knew that if he rang and asked to be let in, the probability of being sent to hell was very high. So he pulled up his cap down and covered as much of his face as he could while he balanced the boxes on his arms.
He stood there like a madman for almost twenty minutes until someone finally left the building. Seokmin felt like he was committing a crime when he slipped through the door before it closed. Even though the feeling was strange he made himself believe it was the only option he had and he really didn't have any bad intentions. He just wanted to return your things and, hopefully, arrange that if you ever met again, you’d simply pretend you don't know each other, instead of talking nonsense to each other.
Seokmin took a deep breath once before knocking on the door. He heard footsteps and a second later the door opened.
When you imagined what your Wednesday night would be like, the only option that crossed your mind was to order a pizza and watch a movie — the random option of Netflix seemed like your best friend and the only possible option because you weren't even able to choose what to watch by yourself.
Not even in your wildest daydreams could you have imagined that Seokmin would show up at your door with two boxes in his hand.
You were partially tempted to close the door on his face, but you knew that doing so would only make the whole situation worse. If Seokmin, who clearly didn't have any good feelings about you, was standing there at your door it was because he had something to say. Or more precisely to hand it over to you, considering the boxes in his arms.
Silently you stepped aside so he had enough room to enter. You wanted to slap yourself for the complete war zone that your living room was in. You were still unpacking the moving boxes, not that you had taken much with you. It was too expensive to send things from one country to another, especially furniture. You had only focused on your clothes and books and a few things you wanted to keep, and that alone was more than you were willing to spend. In addition to the boxes, you had all the things you still had to buy, but you still didn't have the mind to do it.
You had so much going through your head that cleaning the apartment was just another task you wanted to avoid. But it was one that could be left for later. In the few minutes that Seokmin spent there, you wished you had tidied it up, that he hadn't seen how that room represented your life at that moment: a complete mess.
"What are you doing here?" you finally asked when you managed to get your vocal cords to work properly.
Seokmin didn't seem to care about the mess but paid attention to everything else around him.
He placed the boxes on the counter and took off his cap, pressing the brims with his fingertips looking for what to say next. He had rehearsed an almost poetic speech in the car, something about being adults and how your relationship had ended a long time ago, so neither of you should have any regrets left. But the moment you opened the door and looked at him it was as if all the words had simply evaporated from his mind, as if he had never learned to speak in the first place.
It had always been that way with you. Sometimes when he looked at you, even when you were still together, he got lost. He was like a man adrift who had finally found solid land. It was as if he heard a click and the world started to move once again.
One of his favorite things, when you were dating and living together, was being able to come home after an exhausting day and see you sitting on the sofa in the living room, your computer on your lap, while you studied, occasionally shouting profanities at the computer. On those days, Seokmin would simply push the computer away and lay his head on your lap.
“Just five minutes” he used to say with his eyes closed.
You’d laugh, fingers immediately running through his hair, as if it was the most natural movement in the world.
“Who do you want me to insult today? You know my vocabulary is very colorful.”
How many times had he slept in that position, without meaning to, and you had to drag him to bed because “it's comfortable for you, but my legs are numb and you have to take a shower, you won't sleep dirty next to me, sir”.
It was impossible not to wonder where it all went wrong.
“I came to return your things” he pointed at the boxes.
You suppressed the urge to bend down and rummage through the boxes. You wanted to know what he had kept, what he considered important enough to keep for so many years. You knew he no longer lived in the apartment you shared. When you were looking for apartments you saw that that one was up for rent. It was necessary to restrain yourself from choosing it. It wasn't a good apartment, at least not at the time — the photos on the website said the property had undergone renovations two years earlier and had no tenants since. It wasn't big, it barely fit one person, but it was what your extremely limited budget could afford at the time. Somehow you and Seokmin turned that small space into a home full of life. Of love.
In the places where you lived, you bought all kinds of trinkets to fill the space, furniture you didn't need and never used, hoping to imitate, for even a second, the feeling you had in that little 35 square meter apartment.
You never quite managed to do that.
“Thank you” you said sincerely “I thought all my things had gone in the trash”
You laughed and Seokmin squeezed the back of his head and pointed at the boxes.
“I sold what I could, I didn't want to put it in storage because I really thought we would never see each other again. The money is in an envelope”
“Why did you keep all this?” the words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself “You should have thrown it away or, since you sold it, you should have spent the money”
Seokmin had asked himself that question several times before, sober or not, and he never had an answer. After a while, he simply stopped questioning and accepted it as something he had to do, to have some kind of sanity. It didn’t. Knowing that those boxes were inside his wardrobe, having to go through them the two times he moved, only brought back memories that he would like to forget.
Ever since you had seen each other again for the first time, memories that Seokmin had struggled to bury came to the surface as if they had just happened. He started to dream about you, dreams that range from memories to things that never actually happened, he started to wonder if it would be okay to talk with someone. His brain always screamed NO, so he was stuck just dreaming.
“I don’t have a good enough reason. It is what it is, I guess,” he said.
The last time Seokmin felt so embarrassed around you was right when you met and even then it only lasted a few minutes. The 18 year old Seokmin was much braver than the 29 year old man in front of him.
That boy, without any guilt or remorse, would have asked every question that could cross his mind. You’d say “your mind is beautiful, it even echoes sometimes”. Seokmin wanted to still have some of that boy's strength. Maybe that was the only way to know what he wanted. He wouldn't ask and he knew you wouldn't offer the information to him without being pressured.
“I think in the end, we both got what we wanted.”
You realized you said the wrong thing when you looked at Seokmin’s hands. A second before he was clutching his cap until his knuckles turned white, the next his long fingers were still. You didn't want to see the expression on his face. You knew what you’d find. You messed up, but couldn’t take back what you said.
“You got what you wanted” Seokmin corrected you, his voice firm, his tone hard.
“You always wanted to have a radio show”
“No, I wanted you. I could adapt to everything else if it meant I would have you.”
You shook your head. You knew it wasn't true. Hell, even Seokmin knew it wasn’t true. The first time you talked, Seokmin mentioned how much he wanted to be a radio host and have his own show, of any kind. I don't have a preference, I know I can give anything my own colors. You felt envious of his certainty, of the way he knew he could do it.
“The show has always been your dream” you tried again, despite knowing it was in vain to argue with him.
“My dream was to have a life by your side. You never, not once, told me that you signed up to study abroad, you never even mentioned it. When it was time to go you just got on a plane and disappeared. You never even gave me the chance to follow you. I could have been a journalist anywhere in the world”
Seokmin hated the direction of that conversation, hated being so exposed in front of you after so many years. In the past, it wasn't a problem. Before he wanted to be exposed in front of you, he wanted to share everything he was, every aspect of himself with you. No more. The problem was that he couldn't just stop. A gate was opened and there was no way to close it.
“So, what? Would we both be living based on our dreams? Because this is a dream, and you know it very well.”
You clung to the top rail of the chair, your head lolling forward in an almost futile attempt to stop him from seeing the tears forming in your eyes. You knew you couldn't hold them.
You weren't the type of person who cried often, you did what you could to avoid it, but when the tears came it was impossible to simply stop them from falling.
“Yeah, maybe I was really dreaming, because I believed that you loved me in the same proportion, but it’s quite obvious that you didn’t”
Seven years of pent-up frustration couldn't just disappear, he should have known. He should have imagined that going there would be a problem, that being in the same space as you without any kind of interference was a mistake. But he was still there and there was no way to escape. It was better to end everything quickly than to keep those feelings for another seven years in the hopes of one day being able to say something.
Seokmin watched as you went to one of the boxes in the corner of the room and opened it forcefully, tearing the cardboard, and causing some of the contents to slide across the floor. He felt his body freeze as a roll of film stopped at his feet.
“So explain to me, why do I buy a roll of film every time I pass by a store?” you put both hands inside the box and took out several rolls of film, of different brands and models. “Explain to me, why have I followed your career all this time and never missed a damn show in the last 3 years? Why would I wake up in the middle of the night to watch the broadcast and then listen to the show again while going to work because I just wanted to hear your voice?”
You walked to another box, but you opened this one a little more carefully as if wanting to protect the contents.
“Why did I spend 7 years writing letters that would never be read to a guy I never loved?”
You threw several envelopes at Seokmin’s chest. Your face and body shook out of anger or another feeling he couldn't quite tell.
Seokmin bent down to pick up one of the envelopes from the floor. His name was written in your careful handwriting. He didn't need to look at all the other ones to know that they were also addressed to him. He didn't know how many letters were scattered on the floor, or if there were any left in the box. The only thing he was sure of was that he had no idea how to proceed.
“If that doesn’t say I loved you, if that doesn’t say I still love you, I don’t know what the fuck does.”
Seokmin saw the first tear run down your face and fell silent. He knew he should turn his back, he knew he should walk away, just like you did seven years before. Instead, he took four steps in your direction, his eyes never left your heaving chest and the tears that ran freely over your cheeks. 
At that moment he knew that he only had two options: he could turn around and leave, he gave you back your things that alone made his plan a success; or he could kiss you like he had been wanting to since the moment he saw you again.
To hell with his plan.
Seokmin held your face in his hands and pulled you to him, crashing his lips on yours. It was an all too new feeling but also familiar, almost like coming to a remodeled home. It was him and it was you, if only it was just that simple. 
You sighed into him, your arms wrapping around his slim waist while your hand balled a fist full of his shirt. There were so many moments where you wished you could be right in that spot, again in his arms. Dreams and daydreams, wishful thinking, whatever you could call it. Thoughts of Seokmin had always been a constant in your mind. It was impossible not to compare other people you went out with to him. 
Your longest relationship had been one of almost a full year. Although the beginning had been good and easy, with you somehow managing to avoid any and all Seokmin related dreams and thoughts, it turned sour the second he crossed your mind.
“Seokmin, I…”
He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes so intense that it was difficult to keep looking at him. 
“Let’s not overthink it, okay?” was all he said. 
You held his face for a couple, searching for something in his features, anything at all, that could indicate that the moment wasn’t for that. But all you saw in him was the same emotions you felt, the same need and desire. 
You pulled Seokmin to you again, this time hungrier, your chest pressed to his. Your mind was loud telling you all the reasons why you shouldn’t be doing that, why having him so close to you was truly the most dangerous situation you could possibly put yourself in. But all of those voices, all of those words and thoughts were silenced the moment he kissed you again. 
His lips were hungry, demanding all of you. And it was so easy to just give in to him, to his hands roaming on your body, down your back until he reached your ass. He gave it a light squeeze and ran his hand back up again, this time under your shirt. You moaned softly at the contact of his skin on yours, as he kissed your neck, bitting on the exact same spot he found years before. 
He smiled over your skin. 
“At least this hasn’t changed”
It was all too much but not nearly enough. Just having him that close to you was dizzying enough but him touching you and enjoying the fact that you were just as weak for him at twenty nine made you never want to let go of him again.
“Where’s your room?”
You took Seokmin by the hand, guiding him through the narrow corridor. 
Your room was barely a room to begin with. You had no furniture except for the mattress lying on the floor, your clothes were either on the suitcase or on the chair on the side. 
“This is unlike you” Seokmin said, his chest pressed to your back while he nibbled on the skin of your neck. 
“I… hm… I” you sturred a little when he bit into a particularly sensitive spot, making him chuckle “I’m waiting on delivery”
Seokmin turned you around in his arms while lightly pushing you down on the mattress. His eyes never left yours as he ran his hand under your shirt, moving the fabric up until your chest was exposed. 
It had been so long since you had been with anyone, it was almost like a reflex to want to pull your shirt back down. Since him, it had been hard to just let yourself be exposed to someone like that. You had become awfully aware of your body and things you never cared for or paid attention to before suddenly became worries. You didn't like that insecure version of yourself but when Seokmin cupped your breast in his hand his touch was almost solemn. 
It was probably the worst timing in the world when you felt tears burn on the back of your eyes. You pulled his face to yours again, trying to hide your tears from him once again. 
Suddenly, his touch was tender when he pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers careful. 
Seokmin moved down on your body. When you saw his fingers on the waistband of shorts you lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him move the fabric down quicker. 
He kissed your hips and inner thigh. You moaned in anticipation, your hand taking a fist full of his soft hair. When his lips finally found your clit it was like fireworks erupted behind your closed eyelids.
Seokmin was impossibly hard in his pants, embarrassingly so like he was a teenager having his first time. 
He never thought that he would have you in his arms again and yet there you were in front of him, no reservations. Just for him. And for a moment it was like his brain was in short circuit, the small electric waves running all over his body, down to his toes. 
He licked a path from your cunt to your clit. He went down on you almost in desperation, his nose brushing on your clit every now and then. 
"Seokmin..." his name was barely a whisper in your lips, but it was also a chant. 
Your orgasm hits you quickly, leaving you short of air and with shaky legs. You were spiraling in the most enticing way possible. It didn't stop Seokmin though as he kept sucking you frantically. 
You tugged on his hair, pulling him up and to you again. 
I love you,  the words almost fell out of your lips. It would have been so easy to just say them, to be open about your feelings just this once. 
Deep down you knew that that moment would be a one time kind of thing. It was just the kind of moment people sometimes needed to just completely let go of everything. Or in this case, nothing. It was to let go of seven years of complete nothingness and silence.
You opened the button of his jeans and pushed it down, his boxers following along. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him a couple of times. Realization suddenly came over you. You never expected Seokmin to show up to your place, much less that it would lead to that moment, and there wasn't anyone else in your life, so you weren't ready for it. 
"I don't have a condom" you said breathlessly.
Seokmin looked lost for a second, his brain going to his wallet, questioning whether or not he had one in him. 
"I can pull out," he said "if that's okay"
All you did was nod and Seokmin aligned himself with your hole. He pushed in slowly, savoring each moment when your pussy pulled him in until there was no space between the two of you. 
Seokmin kissed you again to give himself time to adjust to you squeezing him. You held his face close to yours, in your eyes a mix of emotions he didn't want to understand. Not in that moment at least.
"I don't want anyone else," you said looking into his eyes, your thumb running over his bottom lip "No one else can make me feel the way you do"
To hell with care and self-preservation. You let go of those the moment you opened the door for him, the moment you let him into your home, the moment you didn't push him away when he kissed you. 
Seokmin fucks you slowly, his pace torturous as you beg and beg for more. He intertwined his fingers with yours and held one of your hands above your head while the other one held your hips in place. 
"Seokmin... harder"
And it's like a switch has gone off inside his brain. His once slow pace becomes shallow. The sound of your breaths and his skin slapping against yours were the only ones heard, echoing through the empty room. 
Your orgasm sneaks up on you, catching you so off guard you scream because it's too much. 
You pushed Seokmin away and watched in ecstasy as he wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand working fast as your name left his lips when his release fell on the sheet by your side. 
Seokmin dropped his body over yours again, his forehead on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over his hair. 
"I love you" you allowed yourself to say, even if it meant nothing to him. 
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Letter #6
Seokmin,
I never thought I'd say this, but I'm coming home. Or the closest thing I still have to a home. Needless to say, my mother is happy with the news. She's been tormenting me for years, asking me to come back, but since I set foot here I decided I wasn't going back.
I wanted to, but I wouldn't go back.
Every time I thought about going back, the first thing that came into my head was the last image I had of you. Your teary eyes wishing me a safe flight, saying I love you and hope you accomplish everything you want. I regretted it the moment I gave my things away and handed my passport into the hand of the airline girl. I should have come back, I should have given up, but I couldn't. That old story of putting myself first and second, you know how it goes. In this case, my entire top 10 was just different versions of me.
I think I actually felt scared because as time went by, little by little without me realizing it right away, you became a very big part of my life. A part that could change everything. I felt like I depended on you too much. It wasn't fair to you or me.
We were only 22, Seokmin. When we were so young, we thought that life was conquered and today I know that is not the case. Far from it. At 22 I had a degree and worked part-time at a cafe to pay the bills, just like you.
You might think I'm selfish, I'm sure you do based on the things you say on your show. I was selfish and on some level, I don't regret it. I did what I always planned to do, what I always wanted to do. And now I'm coming home.
Part of me wants to run and find you, explain why I made the decisions I did, why I never told you. But I know you won't want to listen to me. I wouldn't want to listen to me either. Why would I listen to someone who left just like that? It really wouldn't make sense.
But another part, this one a little more rational, says that I shouldn't throw salt into the wound after so many years have gone by. I have the scar here, hidden enough for no one to see, but prominent enough for me to remember what I did every single day.
I think that's what I'm going to do. I think that's what I have to do. It wouldn't be fair to just show up in front of you and say “hi, I'm back” after seven years.
You have become a big “what if” for me. What if I had stayed? Would we have stayed together or would our relationship have ended years ago? What if I had told you what I was doing while I was doing it? Would you have asked me to stay? What if I had given the possibility of a long-distance relationship? Would we have worked out or would you start to resent me for leaving and end up hurting each other anyway?
The most absurd thing is that I still like you, I'm still in love with you. I've always heard that distance makes love end or something like that. I haven't seen you in seven years, I don't know what's going on in your life — you're really good at hiding everything being a celebrity now — so it doesn't make any sense that my feelings haven't changed even after all this time. This guy I see online might not be the Seokmin I fell in love with, just like I'm not the same person you remember.
Every time I hear your voice I still feel butterflies in my stomach. I sleep and dream about you. When I wake up I think about you and I wonder if you think about me too. It is not normal. It's not healthy. Life went on and I think it is our obligation to move forward together. We are not a museum to only feed on the past.
Let's continue as we are now, what do you think? We will once again be in the same country, in the same city, but I think it's best for both of us to pretend that nothing will change. It's a huge city, what are the chances of us meeting?
yn
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Before you even opened your eyes, you already knew what you would find. Or who you wouldn't find. You knew the space next to you on the mattress would be empty. You had noticed the exact moment Seokmin had gotten up, but you forced yourself to believe that he had just gone to the bathroom. You had kept your eyes closed and had somehow gone back to sleep.
You had been naive to think that the night had changed something, that the way everything seemed like it would be fine was an indication that things had finally gotten back on track. If any, the train simply ended up derailing.
When Seokmin kissed you it was magical, no matter how cliché and teenage it may sound. It was as if the world had fallen into place again, as if you had finally returned home after being away for so long. You couldn't help but wonder if that was why you'd taken the job, in the foolish, unconscious hope that there might be a chance, however slight, of being with him again.
You forced yourself to sit up and pulled the sheet up to cover your naked body. The shirt and shorts you wore the night before were next to you on the floor, but you refused to wear those clothes, opting to rummage through the boxes in the corner of the room looking for clean ones.
You didn't want to go to the living room, didn't want to be mocked by the two boxes that Seokmin had left on the counter, but you couldn't help it. It was as if your feet had a life of their own. When you realized it, you were already sitting on the living room floor with the two boxes in front of you.
You momentarily decided to ignore the smaller black box and pulled the large one closer. The first thing you saw was the envelope Seokmin mentioned the night before. Money, especially the one in the envelope, wasn't something you were going to worry about. You didn't care about it, you didn't lie when you told him that he should have spent it. That money would remain untouched.
There were also a few books you read and made annotations on, two stuffed animals, and all the picture frames you had left behind.
One of the things you regretted the most was not taking with you when you left were photos of you and Seokmin. You had only taken one, which was folded inside your wallet. It was already so old and worn out that it had almost turned to dust, but you would never get it out. It was you and Seokmin at Niah's old restaurant, he was smiling at the camera while you looked at him. It was your favorite picture.
At the bottom of the box was the camera you had given Seokmin as a birthday present a few months before you left. You had saved whatever money you could for months to buy him the camera he wanted, one that he always talked about and whenever you passed by a store you stood outside looking at it, almost as if it would magically appear in his hands.
You understood his reasons for leaving the camera there — or, at least, the reasons you could imagine—but you wished he had kept using it. Not because it was a gift from you, but because it was something he wanted. His smile was so big when you gave it to him, the tip of his nose slightly pointed down because of it.
Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.
The smaller box, for some reason, was scary. It was light and black, and you could hear its contents moving as you held it in your hands. You took one last deep breath and removed the lid.
Inside were photos you had never seen before. Photos of you alone, Seokmin wasn't in any of them. In none of them were you posing or smiling directly at the camera.
Most of them had been taken from a distance, without you noticing. In some you were inside the cafe where you worked, smiling at customers and serving tables, in others you were simply walking down the street, looking through window shops and pointing at something. Seokmin had taken countless photos of you without you even realizing it.
It was strange to see yourself through his eyes, even if it was a version of you that no longer existed. A much younger and more optimistic version. Did I smile that much? you couldn't help but ask. You never saw yourself as particularly optimistic or constantly smiling. You were happy, that's undeniable, but you didn't know that's how people saw you.
There were so many photos, from completely different moments, both from the beginning of your relationship with Seokmin, and from all the phases you went through together.
Behind the pictures were the post-its that you left around the apartment, reminding Seokmin of somewhere you had together or simply saying that you loved him. So many had a simple “I love you” written on them, others said “have a good day today!”.
You had no idea he had kept them. You always thought that once read, they were discarded, but there they were, intact as if you had just written them.
The very first one you had ever written, when you had just started dating, was also there. At the time, unlike Seokmin who never had a hard time expressing how he felt, it was almost impossible for you to be openly honest. So you wrote it on a post-it and stuck it inside one of his notebooks. He had shown up at the dorm a few hours after you left the library.
“Say it again, but this time looking at me”
You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.
“Your nose is beautiful”
You laughed when Seokmin wrapped his arms around you, squeezing a little, trapping your arms close to your body. His face was very close to yours.
“What you wrote in the note” he said softly, his cheek pressed against yours “Say it again, please”
The truth was that you had loved Seokmin, in a way you didn't believe was possible and maybe that was why you spent the last seven years writing letters to him.
Seokmin never left your mind, not truly. There was always a desire, even if veiled, to return home, to find out how he was, to just say “I know I messed up, I’m sorry”.
It was that desire that made your entire body go cold as you took one last item out of the box. A smaller box that fit in the palm of your hand. You knew what it was before you even opened it and opening it was the worst choice at that moment. Your heart, which was already broken, somehow managed to break even more, into a billion, shiny, new pieces.
Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.
When the first sob echoed through the living room, you didn't try to hold it back, you just accepted the feeling of being absolutely lost and heartbroken.
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The weather outside the building seemed to mimic the way you had felt in the last few weeks, torrential rain that had no end in sight. You watched the news hoping for an improvement, hoping that the rain would stop for at least a few hours, but it seemed like a distant dream.
All your students were already gone and there was nothing left for you to do. The handed in assignments were graded and the tests were ready to be applied the following week. You had never hated yourself so much for simply doing your job. You wanted to be, at least for that day, like other teachers who left corrections until the last possible second and left students desperate for their grades.
The hallway was in complete silence, a clear sign that everyone had left already. And you had already waited hours for the rain to stop, until the sky was completely dark, and if anything the rain had only gotten worse.
You sighed and picked up your bag from the chair. You wouldn't risk taking any books, papers, or documents home, the possibility of everything getting ruined was too big. Besides, you needed a rest, at that point it was well deserved.
Ever since you had opened the boxes Seokmin left behind, you had immersed yourself in work in every way possible. You had accepted all of the dean's requests and even offered to teach extra classes whenever there was a missing professor.
And even so, even though you had more work than you wanted, you still found time to look at all of his social media. You still listened to all his programs, even listened to the old ones before going to sleep.
It was almost like a form of elaborate torture done solely and exclusively with you in mind. And worst of all, it was self-inflicted. It was as if your brain liked it, begged for it.
The box with the engagement ring was next to your pseudo bed. It was the last thing you saw before going to sleep and the first thing you saw when you woke up. Instead of spending hours on your phone, you sat there, staring at the small box.
You hadn't dared to open it again. You had never felt so lost as you did that day, looking at that ring.
You wouldn't be a hypocrite to say that you had never imagined your life if you had married Seokmin, but before it was nothing more than a daydream. The ring made that dream an attainable reality. It had been in your hands and you just walked away.
A curse left your lips when you noticed that the umbrella you had used that morning was missing from the umbrella holder next to the door.
“Great, that’s exactly what I needed” you muttered, slamming the door shut behind you.
You were tired, exhausted to tell the truth. All you wanted was to get home, take a shower, and watch some relationship reality show, to escape the tragedy that was your own love life.
You closed your eyes and sighed as you reached the entrance. The next bus stop or subway station was at least a 15 minute walk away. That was a problem that existed when you went to school there, everything was far away. One would think that they would do something to improve that, but one would be wrong.
You thought about taking shelter in the nearest coffee shop, but you knew it was almost closing time. You wouldn't be the person who forces employees to stay late, not when you had worked at that exact coffee shop years ago.
Even with your heavy coat covering most of your body, the rain was cold on your back and it was hard to see anything ahead, even if it was just a few steps away. Even the sound of cars was muffled by the rain.
“yn?” a car was on your left, and it was moving at the same speed as you. The face of whoever was behind the wheel was blurred by the rain, but you would have recognized that voice anywhere in the world.
“Let me give you a ride”
You shook your head. The last thing you should do was get in the car with him. It was too dangerous, you were sure that if you looked at him for more than a second you’d start crying. Just by hearing his voice your eyes were burning and a lump was forming in your throat.
“It’s fine, the bus stop is right there”
“There was an accident back there, the bus won’t be here anytime soon”
You grumbled. Of course, there was an accident, of course, there wouldn't be a bus and with your luck, the subway would probably be closed too.
"If your car went through the accident, a taxi will too”
You quickened your pace, not because of the rain, but because you wanted to get away from him. You needed to get away from him.
“Jesus, yn, just get in the car. You’re going to get sick”
You pretended you didn't hear what he said and kept walking, face down – trying to escape both the rain and him. The first tear fell from your eyes. For the first time in days, you were grateful for the rain, because you could pretend it was just water and not a visual representation of your broken heart on your cheeks.
Seokmin stopped the car right there, in the middle of the street. He didn't care if someone was standing behind him honking like crazy — something that was bound to happen.
When he left your apartment that day he felt like he was 22 again, but this time he was the one leaving.
Hearing that you loved him was everything he had wanted, but the timing was strangely right and wrong, both at the same time.
Both of you screamed, shouted, and said what you wanted to say — or at least part of what you wanted to say. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at the same time a new one was placed on it.
After you fell asleep in his arms, the only thing Seokmin could think about were the letters scattered across the living room floor. There were so many. He couldn't believe you had spent all those years writing letters to him.
He needed to read them all. He would have done it in the living room, but he didn't know what awaited him, so he collected them all from the floor and a few more that had been left in the box and left.
He read the first one in the car, he couldn't wait until he got home. 
Seokmin cried right there, the same way he cried when you left. Inconsolable. His heart broke and healed in equal measure with every word of yours he read.
Seokmin always believed that you left like that, without a single word, because you didn't like him that much, because you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Not that he thought the entire relationship had been a lie, but he thought that somehow the love had ended. It happened to everyone, the probability of it happening to him was also high.
The truth could not be different. There wasn't a letter in which you didn't say you loved him, not always in those words, but he knew you well enough to know that was what you said.
After reading all the letters, Seokmin called Joshua. He cried on the phone with his friend and then once again when he showed up at his place with bad beer and takeout food. “Since we’re going to talk about our college days, I think we should do the same thing we did back then” was all he said.
Seokmin was on his way to you when he saw you walking without an umbrella. He wanted to talk to you, to know if even after so long you still wanted to try with him one more time. It was better to try than to always wonder what could have been.
“I read your letters!” he shouted louder than the rain.
His words were enough to make you stop walking, but you still didn't turn to face him. It was too hard to breathe. Your chest rose and fell irregularly each time you tried to pull the air in.
You knew Seokmin had taken the letters. Part of you knew he would read them, but the last thing you expected was for him to want to talk about them.
“I know” you said when he approached “I saw they were gone, and you were the only person who came by”
“Do you know why I accepted to host a love advice show? Besides it being something I've always wanted, of course” he didn't give you time to answer “Because a part of me wanted you to listen, to know that I was okay, even if it was a lie. I thought that if I talked about it on a show that had used the nickname you gave me, you’d regret it. I thought that I should make you regret it because it was the only way I could still think about you without looking like a fool after so long. I thought you didn’t care, that you had left because you didn’t like me anymore, so making you regret your decision was the only option I had”
You shook your head. It wasn't true, not by a long shot.
“I'm sorry” you said softly “I should have told you what I was doing, that I had applied for the and got in. I thought it was my only option. It was so stupid. I was so stupid”
Seokmin laughed a little, fingers running under your eyes. A second later he pressed his lips over yours.
“I know, I read your letters”
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Seokmin,
It's been a good few years since I wrote you a letter. After a while, I didn't think I needed it anymore because I started saying everything I wanted, everything I felt, looking at you. Of course, this new arrangement has its demerits, as the paper and pen don't look at me like a lost puppy. But paper and pen don't kiss me either, so it has its bonus.
I thought when I came home four years ago, I would never see you again. I thought you would just be the guy who has a radio show that I would listen to every now and then. I didn't expect to see you my first week back and again and, well,  again.
As you probably know, I've never been a big fan of rainy days. I always preferred sunny days because those were the days I woke up ready to face the world. I felt better overall. But also because they reminded me of you. You know, when the sun appears after gray days? For me, you were always like that. Grand and brilliant.
But after that day, I started to like rainy days too because they started to be full of the two of us. Rain was no longer synonymous of an unproductive day, but rather of the memory of our fresh start.
You know this, we've talked about it a few times, but I spent a few months waiting for it to sink in. Sort of expecting that one day I would wake up and it would all be a dream. It was hard for both of us, I know. It was seven years of hurt and resentment and we had to navigate this uncertain sea without a map. Nobody teaches you how to do this, believe me, I looked. I found countless books on how to start dating, how to save a relationship, and how to get over a relationship. The problem is that none of them teach you how to rekindle a relationship after seven years apart, but during those seven years one of the parties wrote letters and the other had a program just to mourn the sorrows of the relationship.
I've read several, so you can trust what I say on this.
It really wasn't easy, but I think we came out better, stronger, in some way.
I love you and I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Our forever begins today, in a little while. So stop crying, put ice on your eyes to help the swelling go down, and go to the aisle because I miss you already.
I love you.
yn
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marsplastic13 · 2 months
Text
'Complicated' (part 13) - Kaz Brekker x Reader
Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)
Genre: modern AU, slow burn
word count: 8k
notes: can't wait for your opinions on this
@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649
@luffysprincess @cryptidghostgirl @beekeepingageissome
@hufflepuff-16 @lukepattersin
They heard the noise of a commotion, then Y/n’s piercing scream, “It’s at the old lighthouse, Kaz, please help me!”
The phone call ended abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in the car. 
Kaz stopped in the middle of the road, heart pounding, and made a dangerously illegal U-turn to head toward the lighthouse. 
"Who the fuck was that?" Jesper asked, his voice laced with concern.
"Her ex-boyfriend," Kaz replied tersely.
They arrived at the lighthouse in record time. Both retrieved two guns from a hidden compartment in the back of the car. “Take her out as soon as you can. I’ll handle him,” Kaz instructed, his voice a mix of resolve and anger.
The two made their way up the stairs quickly and quietly, the sound of Y/n’s desperate pleas growing louder. She was trying to buy time, Kaz realized. From the slightly opened door, he tried to assess the situation. Y/n was on the floor, holding her side, but she seemed conscious. Before he could take further action, a gunshot rang out, followed by Y/n's scream of pain.
“Let her go,” Kaz commanded coldly as he barged in. His eyes quickly scanned the place, locking onto Aleksander, who turned to face him with a wild expression. Y/n was clutching her arm, but otherwise appeared fine.
“And who are you? Another one of those idiots she’s got wrapped around her fingers?” Aleksander sneered, his gun still pointed at Y/n.
“Yeah, exactly. Lay the gun on the floor and step away from her,” Kaz demanded, his voice steely.
“I was like you once—madly in love, ready to do anything for her—and she fucking ruined me,” Aleksander spat, his eyes filled with a deranged fury, underlining each word with a wild movement of the gun.
Kaz took a cautious step forward, but Aleksander immediately redirected the gun back to Y/n. “Another step and I kill the bitch.”
“Alex, please,” Y/n’s voice was broken, filled with terror.
“Oh, you always liked to beg, didn’t you?” Aleksander mocked, his attention momentarily shifting back to Y/n. “Begging me to stop, begging me to love you. Pathetic.”
Y/n’s eyes were wide with fear and pain, and Kaz felt a surge of protective anger. “Let her go,” he commanded, trying to keep his voice steady, his eyes locked on Aleksander’s every move.
Aleksander sneered, his gaze flicking back to Kaz. “You think you’re her knight in shining armor? You’re just another fool she’s using. Just wait. She’ll get bored of you too. She’ll chew you up and spit you out, just like she did to me.”
Y/n’s eyes welled up with tears. “Kaz, he’s lying.”
Aleksander laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “Oh, is that what she told you? That I’m the liar? That I’m the monster? You think you’re different? Special? You’re not. You’re just the next idiot in line.”
Kaz felt a surge of anger but kept his voice calm. “You’re the one pointing a gun to her. That’s all I need to know.”
Aleksander’s grip on the gun tightened. “You don’t get it, do you? She’s playing you. She played me, made me think I was her world, and then ripped it all away. She’ll do the same to you.”
Y/n’s voice was a desperate whisper. “Please,”
Aleksander’s smile was cruel. “Remember when you used to beg me to stop, Y/n? Those nights when you thought a few tears and a pleading look would make me change? You always were such a naive little thing.”
Kaz’s grip on his concealed weapon tightened. “Enough.”
Aleksander ignored him, his eyes boring into Y/n’s. “Do you remember how you used to cling to me, thinking I was your everything? And look at you now, clinging to him. You never change.”
Y/n flinched at his words, her face contorted in pain. “Kaz, don’t let him—”
Aleksander cut her off, his tone dripping with venom. “Don’t let me what? Tell the truth? You’re scared now, aren’t you? Just like you were then. Scared little Y/n, always needing someone to save her.”
Jesper seized the opportunity with pinpoint accuracy, firing a shot that whizzed past Aleksander’s temple, close enough to scare but not harm him. As Aleksander ducked and cursed, Jesper signaled for Y/n to move. She scrambled to her feet and rushed to Jesper, who guided her down to the car.
Left alone with Aleksander, Kaz’s lips curled into a dangerous smile. 
Kaz made his way back to the car, sliding into the seat next to Y/n, who was still trembling. Jesper was in the driver’s seat, the car already running.
“Kaz, what was that noise?” she asked, wide-eyed and hugging herself.
“Don’t worry, love. It’s over,” he said, gently circling her with his arms. He then turned to Jesper. “Call Rotty. We need plane tickets as soon as possible, dated a few hours ago.” He turned back to Y/n. “Do you have your ID, darling?”
She nodded, still confused. “It’s in my bag. Kaz, what is going on?”
Jesper was already on the phone, arranging things. “... Yes, plane tickets. One for Kaz, and I’m sending you the ID for the other now… a few hours ago, yes. And fake ones for as soon as you can. Kaz, place: hot or cold?”
“Cold. She’s injured. And there’s her car to move.”
“On it.”
“Kaz, talk to me,” she pleaded, her voice shaking. “What is going on? What have you done?”
Kaz brushed a stray hair away from her face. “Your ex-boyfriend just fell from the lighthouse. You don’t have an alibi, so I’m making us one. You have to trust me on this.”
Y/n looked too shocked to process what he was saying. Jesper drove quickly but carefully to Kaz’s house. Once inside, Jesper went straight for the computer to finalize the last things.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” Kaz supported Y/n into the bathroom, his grip firm yet gentle. Her gym clothes were stained and torn from the struggle, and he carefully helped her out of them, his eyes scanning her for any more injuries. The bullet had just grazed her arm, leaving a nasty cut but nothing too serious. He grabbed a first aid kit and quickly cleaned the wound, applying a bandage with the precision of someone who had done this many times before.
“You’re lucky,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “It could have been much worse.”
Y/n nodded, her eyes glassy with shock and pain. Kaz reached for a washcloth, dampening it with warm water. He gently wiped away the smudged makeup and dirt from her face, his touch tender. She flinched slightly at first but then relaxed into his careful touch.
“Just take a shower. I’ll be right here,” Kaz said, his voice calming. He turned on the water, adjusting it to a comfortable temperature before helping her into the shower. He waited just outside, listening to the sound of the water and her quiet sobs mingling together.
When she emerged, wrapped in a towel and still trembling, Kaz was waiting with one of his shirts. He looked at her with a mixture of concern and determination. “I’ll get you to bed, alright?” he said, gently sliding the shirt over her head. 
As they left the bathroom, the front door opened, and Inej stepped in. “Guys, what happened to you? We were all waiting at the club-” Her voice trailed off as she took in the scene. Jesper was furiously typing and talking on two phones while Kaz was pale and supporting an injured Y/n who was wearing his clothes.
“Nej, what are you doing here?” he whispered, losing a few more shades of color.
“I wanted to surprise you for your birthday… What is going on? Why is she here and what happened to her?” Her voice was a mix of anger and concern.
Y/n looked at Kaz with wide eyes. “Nej, give me a second,” he said firmly, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
Kaz led her to the bedroom, where he carefully pulled back the covers and helped her into bed. He sat beside her, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Try to get some rest,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers.
“I’m scared, Kaz,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“I know,” he replied, his voice steady. “But you’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and fear. “What’s going to happen now?”
“We’ll leave for a few days,” Kaz said, his tone firm and reassuring. “We need to be out of sight until things calm down. I’ve got everything under control. Just try to sleep. I’ll handle everything. Our flight is probably around 5 a.m. We have a lot of time.”
“Kaz, I don’t understand,” she said, her voice breaking.
Kaz cupped her face, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I’ll explain everything, love. You have to trust me.”
Y/n nodded weakly, her body finally starting to relax. Kaz watched her for a moment, making sure she was comfortable before turning to leave the room.
Back in the living room, Inej stood with her arms crossed, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. “Kaz, what the hell is going on?”
Kaz took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts. “It’s a long story, Nej. You should sit down.”
She looked at him, confusion and frustration evident in her eyes, but she slowly took a seat on the couch. Kaz began to explain everything that had transpired, from his relationship with Y/n to the events of the evening. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, knowing that each revelation would cut deeper.
As the story unfolded, Inej's eyes went wider and wider. She listened in stunned silence, absorbing every detail.
“You cheated on me, for months,” she finally said, her voice tinged with disbelief and pain. Kaz looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “That’s why I met her at the coffee shop nearby that day. She was coming here. I can’t believe you, Kaz. You, of all people.”
Kaz’s heart ached at her words. “Inej, I never wanted to hurt you.”
She shook her head, her expression a portrait of betrayal and sorrow. “You wanted to break up with me that day. You two were already together.”
“We are not together, Inej,” Kaz insisted, his voice tinged with desperation.
“Oh, sorry then,” Inej said bitterly, her sarcasm cutting deep. “I can’t believe that when I told you about my issues with sex, you ran straight to her.” She stood up, her body trembling with rage.
“Don’t raise your voice, Y/n is probably—”
“Oh, am I being fucking loud?” Inej snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm and hurt. “And I shouldn’t wake the girl you’re having an affair with? While she sleeps in the bed I helped you choose?”
Kaz winced at her words, each one hitting him like a physical blow. “Inej, it’s not like that.”
“Not like that?” she repeated, her eyes flashing with fury. “Then what is it like, Kaz? Explain it to me, because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that. You lied to me. You cheated on me. You betrayed me.”
Kaz struggled to find the right words, feeling his own guilt and regret choking him. “It’s complicated. I never wanted this to happen.”
“Are you in love with her?” Inej’s eyes were filled with tears, her voice breaking as she asked the question.
Kaz thought about it, the truth weighing heavily on his heart. But Inej was still Inej, and he couldn’t keep lying to her. “Yes,” he admitted quietly.
“And you call this complicated?” Inej’s voice was incredulous. “Complicated is an understatement. You didn’t just cheat on me, you fell in love with her. All the while pretending with me, lying to my face every single day.”
“Inej, please—” Kaz began, but she cut him off again, her voice rising.
“Please what, Kaz? Please understand? Please forgive you? How could you do this to me? To us?” Her tears were falling freely now, her hands shaking with the intensity of her emotions.
Kaz leaned back, sighing heavily, feeling the weight of his actions crushing him. “I don’t want to minimize your anger, Nej, but her ex-boyfriend tried to kill her tonight. Stop screaming, please.”
“And I’m very sorry for that,” Inej said, her voice softer but still filled with anger. “But you, you are a cheating lying dirty bastard.”
“Inej, I’m sorry,” Kaz said, his own voice cracking with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Kaz,” she said, wiping her tears angrily. “You’ve destroyed everything. Everything we had, everything we built. Was she worth it? Was she worth throwing everything away?” 
Kaz closed his eyes, pain and regret seeping into every fiber of his being. “It’s not about worth. I didn’t plan this. I didn’t choose for it to happen.”
“I thought we would’ve gotten married, Kaz,” Inej said, her voice trembling. “I thought we had a future together. I thought you were the one.”
Kaz felt a lump form in his throat. He opened his eyes and looked at Inej, seeing the raw hurt and betrayal etched into her features. “Inej, I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to destroy what we had.”
“But you did,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You destroyed it all. You broke my heart, Kaz. How could you do this to me?”
Kaz took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I never wanted to betray you. But things got complicated. I got caught up in something I didn’t fully understand.”
Inej shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “We could’ve had everything, Kaz. We could’ve had a life together. A future. But you threw it all away. For what?”
Kaz felt the weight of his actions crashing down on him. “I know I ruined everything. I know I hurt you in ways I can never make up for. But Inej, I still care about you. I still want to see you happy.”
“I wanted to marry you,” Inej said, her voice breaking. “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. But now…I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
Kaz reached out, his hand trembling. “Inej, I’m still me. I made a terrible mistake, and I will regret hurting you for the rest of my life. But Y/n…she’s different. She’s good for me in ways I didn’t expect.”
Inej took a step back, her eyes filled with anguish. “So you don’t regret being with her? After everything?”
Kaz swallowed hard. “I regret hurting you. I regret the way things happened. But Y/n has brought something into my life that I didn’t know I needed. She’s helped me in ways I can’t explain. I didn’t plan for this, but I can’t deny that she’s been good for me.”
Inej looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. “You’ve changed, Kaz. And not in the way I hoped. I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”
Kaz met her gaze, seeing the hurt and betrayal reflected there. “Inej, I—”
“No, Kaz,” she interrupted, her voice cold. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m done.”
Inej turned and walked out, leaving Kaz standing in the living room, his heart shattered. The door closed behind her with a finality that echoed through the room, leaving Kaz to face the consequences of his actions. He sat down heavily on the couch, his mind a whirlwind of regret and sorrow. He had made his choices, and now he had to live with them.
“I’m sorry, man,” said Jesper weakly after witnessing the entire scene.
“Thanks, but I totally deserved it,” Kaz replied, his voice heavy with regret. “I should have done this weeks ago.”
“Yeah, you should have,” Jesper agreed. “Tickets are ready. I’ll come back around 4:30 with a car and her fake documents.”
“Thanks, Jes.”
Kaz went to his room, where Y/n was obviously still awake. “I’m sorry about Inej,” she whispered, her eyes reflecting both guilt and sadness.
“Thanks, love,” Kaz replied softly.
With a sigh, he opened the wardrobe and started packing a few things. Y/n watched him quietly, her mind racing with the events of the night. “I don’t have anything,” she observed, her voice small.
“We’ll buy something there. No one can see us now,” he said, his tone firm but reassuring.
“Alright,” she agreed, though the uncertainty lingered in her eyes.
Kaz turned to her, his expression softening. “Can I check your ribs?”
Y/n nodded, shifting against the headboard to make it easier for him. “It’s going to hurt,” he murmured before moving her shirt and gently touching her side. She hissed in pain, her face contorting with discomfort as he tried to assess the extent of the damage.
“Only one is broken, you should be fine in a few weeks,” Kaz said, his fingers lightly tracing the bruises forming on her skin.
Y/n nodded, adjusting herself against the pillows. “I still can’t believe this happened,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kaz sat down beside her, taking her hand in his. “I know it’s a lot, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She looked at him, her eyes searching his. “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” he replied, squeezing her hand gently. 
For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of everything that had transpired pressing down on them. Kaz’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts—regret over Inej, worry for Y/n, and the urgent need to keep her safe.
They didn’t manage to get any sleep, and when Jesper arrived with the car, they were already waiting outside. Y/n wore Kaz's only hoodie, the hood pulled low to cover most of her face, while Kaz, leaving his cane behind, tried to mask his limp as best as he could. The drive to the airport was silent, the tension in the car palpable. They arrived just in time for the last call for their flight, minimizing the time spent in the waiting halls.
On the plane, Y/n nestled against Kaz, hiding her bruised face, and slept through the entire flight. When they landed, a car was waiting to take them to a nice apartment in the city center, a temporary refuge from the chaos they had left behind.
"Why don’t you sleep some more? I have a lot of things to do," Kaz said, already setting up his computer on the dining table. Y/n nodded, dragging herself to the bedroom.
Hours later, Y/n reappeared in the doorway. "You look better," Kaz commented, glancing up from his screen with a small smile.
"Who are you, Kaz?" she asked, hugging herself.
"I’m fixing this, Y/n. I’ll explain everything," he replied, his voice steady but soft.
"You killed him," she stated, her voice trembling.
"I did what I had to," he said, seeing the panic rising in her eyes. He got up and walked over to her, cupping her face in his hands, tilting her chin so she had to look at him. "I would never hurt you, Y/n. You have to believe me."
Y/n pressed her lips into a tight line, clearly conflicted. "Now go out," he instructed, sliding his card into her pocket. "First thing, buy some makeup and cover up your bruises. Then go around, buy whatever you want. I need a few hours alone. I don’t want you to hear some things, and I’m sure you want some time to yourself too."
Y/n nodded with a long sigh. "Are you scared I’ll go to the police and talk?" she asked, her eyes let all of her conflicted emotions transpire.
"No," he said without hesitation. "I know you won’t, but whatever happens, it’s better if you know as little as possible."
Y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Okay," she said finally. She turned to leave but paused at the door. "Kaz?"
"Yes, love?"
"Be careful," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I will," he promised.
As she left, Kaz returned to his computer, his mind already racing with plans and contingencies. He had a lot of work to do to secure their safety, but he was determined to protect her at all costs. 
He worked tirelessly, making calls and sending messages, making people erase them and their cars from all the cameras that they might have encountered during the hours they were supposed to be already on the plane. He was methodical, his mind sharp and focused. But even as he worked, a part of him worried about Y/n, hoping she was safe and would return soon.
Hours passed, and Y/n finally returned, looking exhausted but more composed. "Feel better?" Kaz asked, looking up from his work.
"A bit," she admitted. "Did you get everything done?"
"Almost," he said, shutting his laptop. "We’ll be okay. Go change, we’re going out for dinner.”
Later, at a cozy restaurant, Y/n glanced at the menu, her frustration mounting. "I can’t even understand the fucking menu," she said, throwing it against the table in exasperation.
Kaz, unfazed, caught the attention of a nearby waiter and swiftly changed to the local language, ordering for both of them. Y/n watched him, a mix of awe and confusion in her eyes.
"Kaz, who the fuck are you? I knew your job was shady, but you killed someone and now we are in another country and-”
Kaz leaned back, his expression unreadable. "We’ll have to make it believable. Pictures, tickets for museums—"
The waiter interrupted, placing two large drinks in front of them. Y/n immediately chugged half of hers. "I’m scared of you," she admitted, her eyes locked onto his.
"I know how it looks, but you’re safe with me," Kaz said, his voice firm yet soothing.
"If you say so. Can you get me another one?" she replied, finishing the rest of her drink in one go. "Why do I always put myself in these situations?" she muttered, more to herself than to him.
Kaz signaled the waiter for another round, his eyes never leaving Y/n's. "You didn’t put yourself in this situation. I did. And I’ll get us out of it."
Y/n sighed, resting her head in her hands. "I just… I don’t know what to think anymore. Everything’s moving so fast."
Kaz leaned in, his voice low. "We need to establish our alibi. We’ll visit a few landmarks, take pictures, buy souvenirs. It has to look like we planned this. Jesper’s handling the logistics, but we need to be seen, leave a trail."
Y/n nodded slowly, absorbing the plan. "And after that?"
"The police will question you as soon as they can, so we won’t leave until you’re ready. We need to make sure everything looks airtight."
During dinner, Kaz began to ease her into the reality of his job. He spoke softly, explaining the various aspects of his life she had only glimpsed before.
"I handle a lot of things behind the scenes," he started, picking his words carefully. "We deal with information, leverage, sometimes money. It's not always clean, but it’s necessary."
Y/n listened intently, her eyes never leaving his. "And by 'necessary,' you mean...?"
"I mean that there are people who need protection, people who can’t protect themselves. We make sure they’re safe, that they have what they need. Sometimes it means stepping into dangerous territory."
"Like killing my ex-boyfriend?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kaz’s grip on her hand tightened slightly. "It would, if I did that."
Y/n swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. "Right. It’s a lot to take in."
"I know it is," Kaz replied gently. "And I don’t expect you to be okay with it overnight. But I need you to understand why I do what I do."
She took a deep breath, looking back up at him. "I get it, Kaz. I do. I just... I need time to accept this."
"Take all the time you need," he assured her. 
As they left the restaurant, Kaz wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Do you like this place?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with an uncharacteristic tenderness.
Y/n looked up at him, a small, hopeful smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, the city is beautiful… I never said thank you for saving me."
Kaz tightened his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "You don't need to thank me, Y/n. I’m just glad you called me. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if something had happened to you."
Y/n’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. "But I do need to thank you. You didn’t have to come, to risk everything for me. But you did."
Kaz stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression earnest. "You matter to me, Y/n. More than you know. I would do it again in a heartbeat."
Y/n took a deep breath, searching for his eyes. "I was so fucking scared, Kaz. I have no idea where I found the courage to call you."
Kaz cupped her face in his hands, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I’m really glad you did. I mean, this is not exactly how I imagined our first trip together, but it’ll do."
She gave a small, shaky laugh, the tension easing slightly. "I'm sorry for the breakup too... I'm sorry you couldn't do it on your own terms and in your own time."
Kaz sighed, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. "I should have done it sooner. It was a bomb ready to explode, and I kept delaying it, thinking I could handle everything. But it wasn't fair to anyone—especially not to Inej."
Y/n leaned into his touch, her eyes closing for a moment as she absorbed his words. "I know you didn't want to hurt her. Or anyone."
He nodded, his own guilt and regret clear in his eyes. "I never wanted things to turn out this way. Inej deserved better than how I handled things. I was a coward, trying to keep everything balanced."
They settled into the unfamiliar bed as comfortably as Y/n's injuries allowed. Kaz scrolled through movie options while she made calls to reassure her roommates and grandma that she hadn't vanished into thin air.
“Yes, grandma, I'm with Kaz… Yes, I'll say hi… No, we are not eloping… No, we are not!” Y/n's cheeks were flushed, and Kaz couldn't help but snort at her side of the conversation.
“Grandma, I'm not pregnant… No, I'm not passing you to him… Why don't you believe me?” Y/n turned towards Kaz with a defeated look. “She wants to speak with you.”
Kaz sighed and took the phone. “Hello, Alice.”
“So? Are you eloping?” Alice's voice came through, bold and direct.
“Definitely not,” Kaz replied firmly.
“Are you sure? I'll convince her,” Alice continued.
Kaz glanced at Y/n, who mouthed 'friends'. “We are just friends,” he clarified aloud.
“Yeah sure, how do you feel about having children? Like right now.” Alice didn't hold back.
“Seems a bit soon,” Kaz snorted.
“I'm getting old, I want a niece or a nephew, more a niece if I have to choose,” Alice insisted.
“I don't think you and Y/n are on the same page about that,” Kaz said diplomatically.
“That's why I wanted to talk to you! Get to work, boy!” Alice's tone was playful but insistent.
Kaz nervously chuckled. “Alice, we're not even in a relationship.”
“Then explain why suddenly you hop on a plane and go to another country!” Alice pressed on.
“It was my birthday yesterday-” Kaz tried to explain.
“And what does your girlfriend think about this?” Alice questioned.
“We broke up,” Kaz admitted reluctantly.
“Oh, I'm sorry dear. You can cheer yourself up by making me a great grandmother. Bye,” Alice concluded abruptly.
Kaz stared at the phone, puzzled. “What's this thing with children?”
“She's going through a phase, it happens every time her birthday is near, ” Y/n shrugged. “And she thinks you have nice teeth.”
“And that makes me a wonderful candidate to have children with you?” Kaz raised an eyebrow, earning a playful kick from Y/n.
“She said I'm getting old and desperate and that I should settle for everything that comes my way,” Y/n laughed.
“Desperate, yes, I can see it,” Kaz replied, dodging another playful kick, “but old seems a bit much.”
“Thanks,” Y/n chuckled, settling back against the pillows.
“Is it weird? Knowing that you’re not together anymore?” Y/n’s voice broke through the silence, gentle yet probing
Kaz turned his attention back to her, his expression softening as he considered her question. “A lot,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying the weight of years spent with Inej. “We’ve been through so much together, and I was so worried that she could leave me that I never contemplated the thought that I could leave her.”
Y/n listened intently, her eyes reflecting understanding rather than judgment. “You probably think it’s lame,” he chuckled, a hint of self-deprecation coloring his tone.
“No,” she replied softly, shaking her head. “It’s sweet. It shows how much you care about her, even if things didn’t work out.”
Kaz exhaled slowly, grateful for her empathy. “I suppose so.”
Silence settled between them again, neither rushing to fill it. Y/n shifted closer, her presence comforting in the midst of his thoughts. She reached out, her hand finding his and intertwining their fingers gently.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have something like that,” she confessed after a moment, her voice tinged with wistfulness.
Kaz felt a pang of empathy as he listened to her, the weight of her words resonating deeply with him. He squeezed her hand gently, offering silent support as she spoke.
“When I wanted it, it always ended up bad,” she said softly, a sad smile playing on her lips.
Kaz nodded slowly, his mind filling with thoughts of the hurtful words her ex had spat out, and the unseen scars she must have carried from past relationships. He understood now why she was hesitant, why she approached relationships with caution.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Kaz said sincerely, his voice laced with empathy. “No one deserves to be hurt like that.”
Y/n glanced at him, her expression portraying gratitude and vulnerability. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
He wanted to tell her again— that he wanted more from her, that he longed for a committed relationship where they could build something together. That he was sure that things would work. But at the same time, he hesitated. He didn't want to scare her away, didn't want to rush her into something she might not be ready for, especially given her past experiences.
Y/n's head nestled against his shoulder, her body fitting perfectly into the curve of his arm. He ran his fingers gently through her hair, savoring the comfort of their intimacy.
"Aren't you clingy today?" he teased lightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Y/n hummed contentedly, her voice muffled against his chest. "How's your rib?" he asked, his concern evident despite the casual tone.
"Hurts like hell," Y/n admitted with a small wince, shifting carefully to find a more comfortable position. "I won't be able to have proper sex for Ghezen knows how long."
Kaz chuckled softly. "Always your first concern," he teased gently, his hand moving to rest on her back in a soothing gesture.
"It's my job, love," Y/n replied with a half-smile.
Y/n nestled closer to Kaz, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. “I’m falling asleep,” Kaz murmured, his voice drowsy and soft as he closed his eyes, resting his head gently on hers.
“Baby, it’s not even 10 pm,” she laughed, the sound light and soothing in the quiet room.
“I didn’t sleep all morning like you,” Kaz replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “And tomorrow, we have an entire city to visit.”
“Yeah? Are we going to be tourists?” she asked, a playful note in her voice.
“Of course,” he whispered, the weight of the past 24 hours starting to lift from his shoulders as sleep began to take over. The stress, the fear, and the tension were slowly fading away, replaced by a sense of calm and contentment.
Y/n sighed contentedly, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest. “I like the sound of that,” she said softly. 
Kaz hummed in agreement, his breathing evening out as he began to drift off. 
His breathing deepened, his body relaxing completely as he succumbed to the pull of sleep. “Goodnight, love,” he whispered. “Goodnight, Kaz,” she whispered back.
***
Turned out, they had really different visions of what being “tourists” meant. It was 7 am, and Kaz was ready to go. “Y/n, wake up, come on.”
The girl replied with an annoyed hum, “What?”
“It’s 7 am,” he urged.
“Is the police here?” she asked into the pillow.
“No.”
“What do you want from me then?”
“We said we’d visit the city. I made a plan,” Kaz explained with a determined tone.
“Of course you did,” Y/n opened one eye to look at him, the early morning light filtering into the room. “Come back to sleep, come on.”
“But if we get out early, we won’t have to make too many queues,” he insisted, sounding almost excited about his meticulously crafted itinerary.
Y/n rolled onto her back, sighing heavily, “How many points does your plan have?”
“Twenty,” he replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“What?” she exclaimed, half-laughing, half-despairing at his dedication. 
“I’ll walk you through it while you make breakfast,” he said, undeterred.
“Oh, now I have to make breakfast too,” she said, raising herself onto her elbows, wincing slightly as her ribs protested the movement.
“I ordered groceries,” Kaz said, trying to sound helpful.
“You could have ordered breakfast,” she pointed out, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Kaz paused, lost in thought. “Yeah, I should’ve done that,” he admitted.
Y/n chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Unbelievable,” she said, her tone affectionate despite her exasperation. She slowly swung her legs out of bed, stretching cautiously to avoid aggravating her injuries. “Alright, let’s see this plan of yours. What’s the first stop?” she asked, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.
Kaz followed her, a pleased smile on his face. “Buying a cane and a pair of glasses.”
“That sounds really reasonable,” Y/n commented, focusing on making coffee and breakfast. “Is any of your points about sitting in bars, doing shopping…?”
“No, not for the next two days,” Kaz checked his phone to be sure. “Yeah, Tuesday you have a free hour.”
Y/n turned to look at him with wide eyes, sliding a plate toward him. 
Kaz ignored her shocked expression, focused on eating. “Move in with me.”
“You just want someone to fuck you every night and make you breakfast every morning,” she teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Why do you always have to be so vulgar?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“It is,” he admitted with his mouth half full.
“That’s not even a girlfriend thing, Kaz,  you’re going directly for wife-level requests,” Y/n retorted, shaking her head in mock disbelief.
Kaz chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Well, why settle for less when I can aim high?”
She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you like it,” he shot back, his grin widening.
“Debatable,” she quipped, pouring coffee into two mugs. “I mean, what’s in it for me?”
“Well, besides the obvious,” Kaz said, giving her a playful wink, “you get the pleasure of my company every day.”
“Oh, joy,” she replied sarcastically, handing him a mug. “Just what I always wanted.”
Kaz took a sip of his coffee, savoring the warmth. “See? I knew you’d come around.”
“Don’t get too cocky,” Y/n warned, poking him in the chest. “I haven’t said yes.”
“Yet,” he added, raising an eyebrow.
Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “Is this your new approach? Tormenting me until I give in?”
“Yep,” Kaz replied with a grin. “Persistence pays off.”
“Oh baby, good luck with that,” y/n leaned to kiss his temple while passing him, “we’re not even dating.” She whispered in his ear before heading to the bathroom.
His gaze followed her around the house, his mind racing. ‘For now,’ he thought, letting a grin spread across his face. He took another bite of his breakfast, savoring the moment. 
Kaz perfectly knew that for most of it they were playing with each other, but the heaviness of all the mistakes he made with Inej were pressing down on him. With her, he wanted to get things right, never make something too soon or too late, too afraid of screwing up. But where did it all lead to? The biggest screw-up ever done. So he kept asking himself why not? Why not make an even bigger mess and see where that brought him and Y/n?
Why not move in together, perfectly aware that it was too soon? In his eyes, the concepts of messy and fun were dangerously blurring together. And then, she told him she loved him, he definitely did not forget that. Might have been really a slip-up, yes, or something totally meaningless, he witnessed firsthand Y/n telling a waiter she loved him, but still, it happened, and he was going to cling to that a bit.
Kaz's thoughts churned as he watched her move around the house. She was wearing her bright new lingerie, the smooth fabric contrasting sharply with the angry bruise on her side. Her hair was a mess of waves, still tousled from sleep, and the sight of her like this, so natural and unguarded, made something in his chest tighten. There was a grace to her movements, even in the midst of her casual morning routine. Each step she took, every small gesture, seemed to echo in the silence of the room, drawing his attention and holding it captive.
She turned towards him, catching him staring. A small, teasing smile played on her lips. “Enjoying the view?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Kaz smirked, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to her. “Always,” he replied, his voice low and sincere.
He watched her as she moved, captivated by the way the morning light caressed her skin, highlighting the curve of her waist and the gentle sway of her hips. He found himself mesmerized by the way the fabric moved with her, the way her muscles flexed and relaxed with each step. There was something incredibly alluring about her in this state—unfiltered, raw, and absolutely stunning.
“Is there something on your mind?” she asked, her tone playful yet curious.
Kaz shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just appreciating the morning,” he said, his eyes never leaving her.
She laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “Sure you are,” she teased, turning back to her tasks. Her laughter was infectious, filling the room with a warmth that made his heart swell. As she moved, her fingers lightly traced the countertop, a gesture that seemed almost absentminded yet was so characteristically her.
“You know, if it wasn’t for my broken rib, I wouldn’t have let you leave the bed,” she added with a playful smirk, casting a glance over her shoulder at him.
Kaz sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes with a smile. “What about my plan?”
She turned fully to face him, leaning against the counter with a sparkle in her eye. “Oh, I would have made a detailed twenty-points-plan,” she laughed, her voice filled with genuine amusement. He chuckled softly, shaking his head at her playful persistence. “Is that so? And what would this plan entail?”
She took a deliberate step closer, her movements fluid and purposeful, closing the distance between them with a teasing glint in her eye. “Well, for starters, it would involve a lot more staying in bed,” she teased, her voice laced with a hint of seduction. Her eyes sparkled as she continued, “Maybe on the couch, and I’m sure there’s at least one point about the kitchen table.”
Kaz raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Is that right?”
“Oh, definitely,” she nodded confidently, her gaze growing more intense as she reached for his belt.
“We have to get going, get dressed,” Kaz interjected suddenly, pressing a quick kiss on her forehead before gently moving away. He could feel the warmth of her proximity, making it challenging to think straight. His retreat was as much a practical necessity as it was an attempt to maintain focus on their plans for the day.
Y/n sighed in mock defeat, rolling her eyes playfully. “Fine,” she replied, though a hint of disappointment lingered in her voice.
Despite the playful banter, he knew there was a deeper undercurrent to their relationship. They were teetering on the edge of something significant, something that could either be incredibly rewarding or disastrously painful. But he was ready to take the risk. He had spent too much of his life carefully calculating every move, and for once, he wanted to let go of that control, to embrace the chaos and see where it led them.
***
“Come on, let’s take at least one picture together,” Y/n pleaded for what felt like the millionth time in the last days, her voice tinged with playful persistence.
“No,” Kaz replied, his tone firm yet slightly weary.
“But you said we had to!” she insisted, holding up her phone.
“I don’t like taking pictures,” Kaz muttered, feeling immensely self-conscious under her gaze.
“No one is going to see it, just maybe the police,” she coaxed, trying to reassure him.
“I don’t know what to do in pictures,” he admitted, avoiding her gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Smile,” she shrugged, her lips curling into a gentle smile as she adjusted the phone.
“I don’t smile,” he grumbled.
“You smile, a lot,” she countered, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Kaz sighed, glancing at her phone with an annoyed expression. Just as she aimed to take a selfie, a notification popped up on her screen. ‘When are you coming back? I miss you already’ from someone labeled ‘Cute guy tennis.’ Kaz didn’t miss the message, his jaw tightening slightly. Y/n quickly swiped the notification away, focusing back on the task of taking the picture.
“Still with the tennis guy?” he asked bitterly.
“Apparently,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “we look cute in this one.” She showed him a picture where she was beaming at the camera while he was side-eyeing her with a smirk. Kaz cursed himself internally; did he really go around making that stupid face while looking at her?
“It’s not bad,” he commented, trying to sound indifferent. Another message popped up: ‘We have so many lessons to catch up’
Kaz couldn't help but let the bitterness seep into his voice as he asked, “So, he’s a tennis instructor?”
“Yes, Kaz,” Y/n replied, her tone clipped and clearly annoyed by his persistence.
He glanced away, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Thought you preferred bigger wallets.”
She shot him a sharp look, her irritation evident. “Are you jealous or something? I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to date who I want,” she retorted, crossing her arms defensively. “And for your information, he owns the tennis club.”
Kaz raised an eyebrow, the sarcasm still lingering in his voice. “That’s more like you.”
Y/n’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sighed, knowing he was treading on thin ice but unable to stop himself. “It means you always seem to go for the ones with status and money. It’s like you have a type.”
She bristled at his comment. “You don’t know anything about my type.”
Kaz met her gaze, his eyes hardening. “Maybe not, but I know enough to see a pattern.”
Y/n took a step closer, her voice rising. “You think you have me all figured out, don’t you? Well, newsflash, Kaz, you don’t.”
He stood his ground, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. “I just find it interesting that you always seem to end up with guys who can offer you something more than just a good time.”
She shook her head, disbelief and anger mingling in her expression. “You don’t get to judge me or my choices.”
Kaz felt a pang of guilt at her words but pushed it aside, his pride getting the better of him. “I’m not judging, just observing. You were dating Nikolai Lanstov, when? Like last week?”
Y/N scoffed, her eyes flashing with anger. “Kaz, it was never a secret that I dated multiple people at the same time and that I had no intention of stopping.”
Kaz sighed, rolling his eyes. “You’re single now, sleep around, date who you want,” she said, her annoyance evident in her tone.
He shook his head, frustration mounting. In what language did he have to explain to her that he didn’t want anyone else? “Sure, that’s what I’m going to do as soon as we’re home,” he said harshly, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Great,” she shot back, her voice cold.
“Good,” he replied, his own anger simmering just beneath the surface.
They stood there, the tension between them almost tangible. Kaz clenched his fists, trying to keep his emotions in check. He knew he had handled this all wrong, but he didn’t know how to fix it. The jealousy, the frustration, the fear of losing her—it all tangled together, clouding his judgment.
“How many points of your plan do we still have for today?” Y/N asked, still annoyed.
“Five.”
“Then let’s go, Brekker,” she said, taking his hand and leading the way. They kept strolling through parks and museums, their fight quickly forgotten.
“No, wait, don't look. This place is on tomorrow’s plan,” Kaz said seriously, checking his phone.
Y/N laughed at him, her annoyance fading. “Have you ever been relaxed for one moment in your life? Just change the plan.”
Kaz stopped in the middle of crossing the road, causing a small commotion. “You can't just ‘change the plan,’ Y/N.”
“Why not?”
“It shows that you never planned anything in your life.”
Y/N shook her head while people started to honk and yell for them to move. “I just let things happen. Just go with the flow.”
“I tell the flow where to go, so don’t look to your right, and let’s go,” he insisted, pulling her along.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “Kaz, you’re the only person I know who can schedule spontaneity.”
“You should see my calendar. It’s got ‘spontaneous moments’ blocked out in 15-minute intervals.”
“Fine, Mr. Control Freak. Lead the way,” Y/N teased, finally relenting.
Kaz smirked. “That’s more like it. Now, let’s get back on track—literally and figuratively.”
As they continued walking, Kaz glanced at his phone. “Okay, we’ve got a 30-second window for a spontaneous laugh starting… now.”
Y/N burst out laughing. “What?”
“See? You’re laughing,” Kaz replied, a grin spreading across his face. He leaned in to kiss her, his lips brushing against hers softly.
“That wasn’t planned,” she smiled against his lips, feeling the warmth of his affection.
“You’ll never know,” he said as he took her hand and continued their itinerary.
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corroded-hellfire · 1 year
Note
hi there!! hope you’re having a good day today :D not sure if you’re taking requests but if you are would you consider doing an angst/comfort follow up to the chrissy scene ask, where reader needs eddie to come pick them up because of their stepdad or something? ♡
Here’s the first part for anyone who is looking to read it! I have to thank the lovely and wonderful @dearest-readers for helping me with this when I hit a wall. I hope you all enjoy this 💗
Warnings: drunk assholes, mild violence, language, reader has shitty home life
Words: 2.6k
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The strum of the same few chords repeats itself over and over again like a broken record. The notes echo through the empty trailer as Eddie tries for the hundredth time to get the guitar solo in Master of Puppets just right. His fingers are sore from practicing for so long, but the irritation in him won’t let himself quit. 
The ringing of the phone jostles Eddie out of his latest attempt and he sets his sweetheart down on his bed. Eddie’s eyes slide over to the alarm clock on his desk that lets him know it’s 11:44pm in bright neon green. He knew it had been a little while since Wayne left for work, but he hadn’t thought this much time had passed. 
Who could be calling this late? Eddie thinks as he pushes himself off the bed and heads down the hallway. Leaning against the wall next to the phone, he plucks the receiver off and holds it to his ear.
“Hello?”
“E-Eddie?”
Your voice, so small and scared, has Eddie straightening up and holding the phone a little tighter.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Eddie asks, already mentally calculating the quickest route to your place. Then he hears the raucous laughter in the background and what sounds like glass shattering. 
“I’m, um, I’m okay. S’just that m-my mom’s boyfriend brought some friends over and they’re all wasted. I-It’s so loud and the way that one of them looked at me scared me.”
“I’ll be there in ten,” Eddie says. “Lock yourself in your room. Is it on the ground floor? Your room?”
“Yeah, why?” you ask. 
“I’ll meet you at your window. That’ll make it easier to get you out,” Eddie says, already grabbing his keys and shoving his wallet into his pocket. 
“Thank you, E-Eddie.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Metallica song long forgotten, Eddie rushes to his van and prays it comes to life on the first try. He really needs to take a look under the hood and figure out what’s going on in there. Luckily, it catches, and Eddie is pulling his loud bucket of bolts onto the small streets of Forest Hills before pulling out onto the main road. 
His heart is pounding as he races down the road. It’s because he’s worried about you and the situation you’re in, he tells himself. But there’s a part of him that he’s trying to keep way down that knows his heart is also racing because he’s excited to see you. 
There are hardly any cars on the road this late at night, so Eddie zooms through the dark roads quickly. When he pulls onto your street, he immediately notices the gathering of cars parked in front of your house. At first, he’s afraid to have his van join the bunch, but remembers that everyone but you in the house is drunk and won’t notice another random vehicle parked at the curb.
He kills the engine and hops out of the van, taking care not to slam the door behind him. The loud laughter and cacophonous shouting from inside the house bleed out into the street, to the point where Eddie could hear every word being said by the drunk men. 
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie curses under his breath as he walks across your lawn, over towards the side of your house. The closer he gets to the side of the house, the more Eddie bends down to avoid being seen by anyone inside. He chances a peek into a window and quickly ducks back down again when he sees what appears to be your mom’s room. Moving onto the next window, Eddie releases a sigh of relief as he sees you sitting on your bed. The way you’re gnawing at one of your thumbs, legs tucked up to your chest, obviously terrified, has Eddie seeing red. If he wasn’t so hell bent on getting you out of this place, he’d be inside beating the shit out of some people. 
Softly, not wanting to scare you even further, Eddie reaches up and raps a knuckle on your window. Your head snaps up and the way relief floods your face when your eyes land on him has Eddie’s stomach flipping at the most inopportune time. Before coming over to the window, you slide a backpack on. Once you have the window cracked, Eddie helps you lift it enough for you to crawl out of.
“Hi,” you say, giving him a grateful smile.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks as his eyes scan over you, trying to assess for himself.
“I’m fine. No one’s bothered me since I called.”
“Good,” Eddie says. “Throw your leg over, I’ll help you out.”
You do as he instructs and Eddie’s hands find your waist, helping to guide you down to the ground before he pulls your window closed. 
“My van is out front,” Eddie says. 
“Okay, let’s go.” You grab Eddie’s hand and he almost trips over his own feet as he leads you around the side of the house. Just as he’s opening the passenger side door of the van for you, the front door of the house opens, the drunken voices becoming even louder.
“Hey!” Both your and Eddie’s heads shoot in the direction of the door, your eyes widening at the intoxicated, belligerent man who’s staggering out onto the lawn.
“T-That’s the one who was looking at me funny. He scares me the most,” you say, cheeks heating up at the admission.
“Get in,” Eddie says, helping you into the van. “Lock the door.”
You nod and jam the lock down as soon as Eddie closes the door behind you. Assuming that he’s going to run around to the other side of the van, your eyes widen and your heart rate spikes even further when you see him step onto the grass and make his way towards the asshole. 
“Eddie!” you yell, banging on the window.
“Stay there,” Eddie calls back, looking at you over his shoulder.
“Eddie! Get back here!”
Whether he can’t hear you anymore or ignores you, you’re not sure. Reaching for the crank that will roll the window down, you only open it an inch before you can hear your mom’s boyfriend's buddy taunting Eddie.
“Where do you think you’re going with her, Van Halen? Hey! I’m talking to you, pissant.” 
Eddie doesn’t respond as he keeps striding towards the man. 
“Martin!” the drunk calls for your mom’s boyfriend. 
Eddie’s fist collides with the man’s jaw, sending him stumbling back a few steps just as Martin comes outside. 
“What the fuck is going on out here?” Martin asks. He takes in the scene before him: his pal stumbling and holding his face, Eddie fuming mad and a clenched fist. “The hell are you?”
“He’s taking the g-girl,” the creep slurs. 
Martin looks up and he locks eyes with you in the van. Your blood turns cold and your hands begin to shake where they rest against the window. 
“Get out of that van,” Martin yells.
Eddie huffs a humorless laugh and shoots a sneer Martin’s way before backing up towards the van, not risking turning around and having his back to the drunken low lives. 
“Hey, you little whore! I said get out of the van!”
Eddie stops, boots stilling against the grass beneath him. 
“The fuck did you call her?” Eddie practically growls.
“Eddie,” you plead. “Please, let’s just go.”
“You her boyfriend, Eddie?” Martin asks, nose turning up as if the younger man’s name is offensive. 
���Eddie, please,” you call again. “I just want to get out of here.”
These words seem to break through to Eddie, as he begins to back up again, only turning his back to the assholes when he’s in the street, far enough away from the both of them. He jumps into the driver’s seat and starts the car. You quickly wind the window back up as Martin heads towards the van, stumbling and weaving as he walks. 
“You’re in deep shit,” Martin shouts as Eddie puts the van in drive. “When you get back here, you’re in for it.”
Despite yourself, you tremble at his threat. As soon as Eddie pulls out onto the road, he reaches over and puts his hand over yours. Instantly, you flip your hand over to lace your fingers with his. When he feels the way your hand is shaking, he gives it a soft squeeze.
“Don’t listen to him,” Eddie says. “You’re okay now.”
You nod, despite knowing it’s not quite that simple. But for now, Eddie’s right. You’re okay.
When you get to Eddie’s, you change into a pair of the pajamas you’d stashed there. He’s in the kitchen, boiling water for “tea or hot chocolate or whatever you want.” Padding down the narrow hallway out to him, he gives you a small smile when you walk into the kitchen. You’re not sure how to tell him that you need a hug, so you’re grateful when he opens his arms as you get even closer. Eddie’s hold tightens around you and you bury your face in his chest. You inhale the comforting smell of laundry detergent and Eddie’s deodorant as you slip your arms around his small waist, holding yourself closer to him. The weight of his head rests against yours and the safety and contentment you feel almost overwhelms you. 
“What’s your hot drink of choice?” Eddie mumbles against your hair. 
“Chocolate,” you speak against his shirt. “But don’t let go yet.”
“I’ll hug you as long as you want me to.” 
Eventually, you loosen your grip on Eddie, and he lets you go as well. Grabbing two mugs that were hanging on the wall, Eddie prepares a hot chocolate for each of you and leads you over to the couch. Holding the steaming mug in your cold hands, you snuggle up to your friend’s side, which causes him to hide a smile behind his mug. 
“Thank you for coming to get me,” you say softly. 
“I’m glad you called me,” Eddie says. “Was afraid you would think I was just trying to be nice and didn’t really mean it.”
“I know you did.” You take another sip of your hot chocolate and lay your head on his shoulder. “You’re pretty amazing, Eddie.”
It feels like the hot liquid he’s just swallowed breaks off and turns into butterflies as it meets his stomach. He feels his face heat up and he’s glad you can’t see him from your angle. 
“So are you. And you deserve so much better than living in a house with that insanity,” Eddie says. When you stay silent, Eddie asks quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”
A soft sigh leaves your lips before you respond. “I feel like if I don’t talk about it then I don’t have to deal with it. But I know that’s not true.”
“Unfortunately not,” Eddie agrees. 
“I just don’t know what to do,” you admit. “I’m scared in my own home and my mom won’t listen to me about it.” 
“Do you want my advice or do you just want me to listen?” Eddie asks. He’s slightly disappointed as you lift your head from his shoulder; he already misses the contact. 
“Actually… You know, I don’t think I really want to talk about it at all. I know I have to deal with it. But not right now. Right now, I want to relax. I’m not sure when the last time I did that was.”
“Relaxing?” Eddie asks with raised eyebrows. “I think that’s most of what I do.”
A small giggle leaves your lips as you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry I ruined your night.”
Frowning, Eddie shakes his head. “You didn’t ruin anything. Saved me, actually. I was practicing this damn solo over and over again on the guitar. Pretty sure one more time and my fingers would’ve started to bleed.”
“Can I hear it?” you ask, a hopeful smile lighting up your face. As if Eddie could ever say no to you. 
“As long as you bandage my fingers when they’re bloody.” Eddie sets his mostly empty mug down on the coffee table and pushes himself off the couch. 
“Deal,” you say, standing up next to him. He leads you to his room, where his beloved sweetheart is still resting on the bed where he laid her before. Gingerly, he picks up the instrument, as if it was made of glass or porcelain. You go to take a seat on his floor but Eddie nods at you to sit on the bed next to him. 
Eddie pokes his tongue out of his mouth as he concentrates on where his fingers need to be positioned for the start of the solo. He begins to play and your eyes can’t help but watch as Eddie’s hands glide effortlessly over the strings, each note ringing out into the air in pure perfection. The way his fingers dance along the neck of the guitar, contorting to change chords has your mind drifting to some less-than-innocent places. But the music itself is mesmerizing. You’d be the first to admit you don’t listen to a whole lot of the same stuff that Eddie does, but there’s no denying the beauty in what Eddie is playing. 
“Ah, shit,” Eddie says as he messes up. Truthfully, you wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t berated himself over it. 
“Eddie, that was amazing,” you tell him. He’s about to tell you that you don’t have to lie to him, but when he turns his head to look at you, he can see the awe on your face. No one has ever looked that way when he’s been playing guitar before. It makes his head feel light and his heart all fuzzy. 
“Thanks,” Eddie says, feeling his face heat up. “Um…are you tired? Because I’ll just set myself up on the couch and you—.”
“No,” you interrupt him with a frown. “Eddie, I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”
“And I’m not making you sleep on the couch,” he answers matter-of-factly. 
“Then I’ll sleep on the floor,” you say with a shrug. 
He lets out a bark of laughter and shakes his head. “No way, sweetheart.”
The pet name flusters you more than you’d like to admit. But it doesn’t mean he’s going to get his way. “Fine. Then we can both sleep on the bed.”
“No,” Eddie says again, and this time you roll your eyes.
“And why not?” 
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says sheepishly. 
“Eddie,” you say with a giggle. “I’m the one who suggested it.”
“Fine,” he says with an over dramatic sigh. But he gives you a wink to let you know he’s only playing. “I’m gonna go get changed.” 
You watch as he snatches up some pajamas from his bedroom floor and heads off to the bathroom. Meanwhile, you pull down the blankets of his bed and slip underneath them. You’ve never slept in the same bed as a boy before. The tingling in your tummy tells you it’s more about sleeping next to Eddie in particular, rather than just a boy. 
He steps back into the bedroom and quickly climbs under the blankets with you, making sure to keep a respectable distance between the two of you. 
“You okay?” he asks.
“All good,” you reply. 
Eddie nods and turns off his lamp before properly getting cozy next to you. He’s so close to you, yet so far. All you want to do is reach out and touch him, but you don’t want to make him uncomfortable now. 
“Eddie?” Your voice is tiny and you’re surprised he hears it at all.
“Yeah?”
“Can I move…closer? Just, for comfort, ya know?”
“Of course.” Eddie lifts an arm, and you don’t hesitate to snuggle into his side. The smile on his face tells you that he’s enjoying it too. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight, Eddie. You’re the best.”
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hallowpen · 1 month
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Thank you SO much for answering my question! (Not to sound like a broken record but it really does help understand the show more) I actually contemplated reading the novel because my friends said it was really good, but I opted to wait for the show (especially after how disappointed i ended up being with Dream) But also because I just like being surprised ya know?
With that said, im actually REALLY happy it was FB that ended up with this project. I feel like they’re the only pair that can truly deliver when it comes to the yearning & romantic aspect (and actually making it believable) I mean just now after the first ep I can already feel how connected their characters are. Also the child actors playing their younger counterparts are just fantastic! The little girl that plays Anin just absolutely nailed that scene where she’s consoling Pin and trying to make her laugh.
As for the MOC, even though i was excited they decided to back the series, ngl I was a little bit afraid at first that they were gonna tone everything down and make the story a super watered down version of the book…but no, they’re just letting things flow and im very pleasantly surprised by that. Thanks to their backing though, the cinematography is just on another lvl and the score?!? Omg I get goosebumps everytime I hear the main track from the OST. Gam Wichayanee (I think her name is?) has such an incredibly beautiful voice.
Anyways, im probably about to hit character limit and i’ve probably bored you at this point with my ranting lol Sorry, I just needed someone to be a fangirl with and gush about this show 😂
I’ll probably be back at some point after the second ep. airs to ask more questions (so I apologize in advance heheh)
Please... fangirl away. I've been similarly gushing to my friends about this series for months hehe
I understood the pause from the MOC getting involved... but why my faith in this series never wavered is because I trust Saint (IDOLfactory's CEO) and I knew he wouldn't compromise any of the important elements of the story just for money. He's been known to invest several million baht into his own series just to make sure the quality is to the standard he wants it be... and he would've done the same for TLP had he needed to. He said to hell with everyone's cautionary worries when he decided to produce GAP (he was being told from several sources, including potential investors, that GL was a losing bet and he shouldn't do it) because he knew how important sapphic media was to Thai queer audiences. AND HE WAS RIGHT!!! That series was being funded on a hope and a prayer... and without Saint (and FreenBecky), Thai GL as we know it today wouldn't exist on the scale that it does. Call me an IDOLfactory simp if you want, but it's not without merit 😂😂😂
I'm glad TLP ended up in the hands that it did... because we're only one episode in and everything about this series is just *chef's kiss*
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sorencd · 8 months
Note
hellooo can you write a fic about todd comforting reader after a fight w her parents please? thank youu
ARMS TONITE— i fellll in your arms toniighhtt
todd x reader drabble , idk how long this is , angst/fluff , im like so sorry this took so long tho lol
todd was always the person you’d run to when you know you couldn’t keep the tears in anymore. sometimes, when you’re having a bad day, a hug from him was all it took for you to have a smile on your face again. a gentle squeeze of reassurance from him was all you needed to gain a bit more confidence in whatever problem you were facing. his glance, always full of love, was all you needed to get throughout the day.
and today, you needed all of it at once. your hands, resting behind his back, squeezed and gripped his sweater as you poured your heart out. tears that had sorrow and disdain laced in them fell on the soft fabric beneath your chin, painting it with wet patches, but it was never a problem for todd.
“i just don’t understand, n-no matter how many times i tell them i’m not comfortable yet when it comes to talking to them about how i feel, they always take it as a sign to be offended?” you furrowed your eyebrows, furiously wiping your tears away in a moment of anger.
“they’re just so… hard sometimes, but i love them so much, i love them too much. i love them to the point that they could scream at me like i’m some annoying bothersome street dog and i’d still look at them with love.”
now you were full on crying, snot and everything. and todd just held you, in his arms, in his warm comfort, just being there for you. he understood where you were coming from. and he wanted you to know he’s there, listening. he rubbed circles on your back and gave you time to speak your mind, todd knew how much unsaid feelings and emotions you were bottling up.
“and it always hurts. that every time i have to conform to what they said and agree that they’re right. and they have this… talent. the ability to move on like it was nothing to them so i’m forced to just do the same. it’s tiring, you know?”
your voice was so small, barely even above a whisper. you were amazed at yourself for being able to form a coherent sentence with your choked sobs. and it hurt todd. it pained him— seeing you cry, seeing your face so full of dejection, cheeks all red and tear-stained, eyes puffy from relentlessly crying and a vice-grip on his back.
“yeah… parents are sometimes too much. i-i sometimes too just wanna run away from it all, not have some dumb responsibility looming behind me or-or when i’m mad at them too for getting shouted at because of the littlest things. i understand where you’re coming from, (y/n).”
you parted from where your face hid on the crook of his neck begrudgingly and rubbed the back of your hand against your eye, trying to wipe off the tears as todd pushed away and stray hair that was blocking your vision.
“thanks for listening, todd.”
“of course, i’ll always listen, i’ll sound like a broken record at this point, but i’m so glad that i’m one of the trusted people you tell all of this to-“
“the only person i tell all of this to.”
he softly laughed, “the only person you tell all of this to, and i just want you to know, i’ll always be here for you, okay? even if i’m… fighting off charlie or on the other side of the world, i’ll always find a way to be here, to wipe your face dry and make you smile.”
“you’re really so sappy sometimes. will you ever not be?”
“i love you too, (y/n).”
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storiesofsvu · 2 years
Text
A Dangerous Game Ch 13
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Emily Prentiss x readear Warnings: language, alcohol, smut, daddy!prentiss, very light talk of canon type of violence/situations. I'm really not sure if i like this chapter, part of why it took so long was because i was just not feelin the smut, so that's why the smut is limited. sorrryyyy. next ch will be better! promise!
“Hello?” Emily’s voice rang through your car speaker and you almost instantly relaxed.
“Hey.” You couldn’t help but smile, “I happen to be in your neck of the woods and was thinking about picking up dessert if you’re interested?”
“Sounds like your date went really well.” She half teased, a smile taking over her cheeks as she glanced to her watch, not doubting that you’d left dinner early.
“Ugh, update you later. Are you home? I’ll swing by.”
“Uh…” She suddenly rocked back to reality, glancing back to the pile of dirt on her floor, “you know, Serg is being a real asshole tonight, he just peed all over the bed, can we do your place?”
“Yeah, course. Give me like, half hour? I’ll pick up some wine too.”
“Sounds great.”
“K, I’ll see ya in a bit.”
“Bye.”
The line clicked as you hung up the phone and Emily let out a puff of breath, chewing her lip into her mouth as she tried to figure out what she wanted to do about the bug. If she destroyed it, whoever planted it would know that she’d found it, right now she had the high ground, she’d just have to filter herself to a point while in her apartment, she could handle that. She grabbed a coffee mug she rarely used, scooping up most of the dirt and the bug, placing it back on the shelf it had previously been on before cleaning up the broken ceramic.
Figuring she’d likely spend the rest of the weekend at your place she headed to the bedroom to pack up whatever she might need, Sergio let out a very annoyed meow over being trapped in the room and she rolled her eyes when he darted past her. She made sure that he had more than enough food and water, gave him a little scratch behind the ear, warning him to be good while she was gone and headed out the door.
She couldn’t help but be distracted on the drive over, her mind attempting to replay everything since the party at Rossi’s. For the briefest moment her mind jumped to worst case scenario that this had all been a set up from the start and that you knew exactly who she was the night you’d met at the bar but she managed to squash that down with the reminder that whatever was on the bug would incriminate you as well. Not to mention it wouldn’t make any sense for you to have bugged her apartment, you were basically the only one that was ever there. Penelope had been over for coffee and Sergio snuggles one weekend, but aside from that it was just you, which, very unfortunately, meant there was a whole lot of sex that someone was listening in on. She shuddered at the thought, thankful at least that the bug had been in the living room and not the bedroom.
Letting out a breath, she pulled onto the freeway and her mind drifted from who planted it to what she should do about it. She recognized the style, it was a relatively popular type of bug but one that was readily available both online and in stores, it would be useless to try and track the person down that way. She considered looping in Penelope but that would mean moving it… and that Penelope would very likely be privy to what was recorded and she certainly wasn’t ready for that. No, that wasn’t the route to go, she had to figure out a list of suspects who had the motive and means to want to track her and go from there, questioning and eliminating until she found the guy. Stopped at a red light she let out a groan, running her hand over her face, despite most of the BAU’s unsubs either getting killed on crime scenes or being sentenced to life in prison, there were the few who got shorter sentences. She was going to have to go through every case and double cross with any recent releases.
This was going to be one hell of a fucking headache.
*
When you pulled open the front door Emily absolutely lost every coherent thought in her brain.
“Holy shit you look fucking hot.” Her eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh, your cheeks heating with the way her gaze dragged up your body. You hadn’t changed yet, still in a deep blue fitted wrap dress that showed off just enough leg and a respectable amount of cleavage. Your hair was styled in loose curls, more makeup and jewelry than you’d normally wear to work to finish it all off.
“Thank you.” You chuckled, letting her in and swinging the door shut behind her.
“This is date night you? Because fuck take out, I’m actually going to take you out next week Jesus Christ.”
“Em…” You laughed again, warmth blooming through your whole body.
“I mean it. Wow.”
“You gonna come in or are you just gonna stare?” You asked with a laugh, swatting at her arm before turning up the stairs, more than well aware that she was definitely staring at your ass as she followed you onto the main floor.
There was a candle burning on your coffee table next to a pile of paperwork, aromas of lilac wafting through the space, a fuzzy blanket strewn across the couch, a book open but upturned on top of it. Her eyes swept through the space and she smiled, god did she ever love just how comfortable your place was. It always had this overwhelming sense of calm and welcoming, somewhere she couldn’t help but relax and feel at peace. When she turned back to the kitchen you’d poured her out a glass of wine, sliding it toward her before picking up a pizza pop you’d been hallway through when she knocked on the door.
“I thought you picked up dessert?”
“I did.” You mumbled, swallowing the bite down, “this is dinner.”
“You didn’t even make it to the main course!?” She nearly laughed, “the date was that much of a dud? Jeeze I thought Morgan of all people would have better judgement.”
“I mean… it was fine? There was potential, she was cute but…” you trailed off, wondering if you should just drop the bomb right off the start until you huffed, “bland. She was bland, and she ordered for me.”
“Eck.”
“Terrible taste in wine too.”
“This leftovers?” She asked, pointing to the take out container on the counter and you nodded. Curiosity got the better of her and she popped the container open, “is this a crab cake?”
“Yup.” You grimaced.
“You hate crab, specifically in cake form!”
“Exactly!” You let out a frustrated groan, “and you know that because you— know me.” You rolled your eyes, “and that’s not even the worst of it, she paired it with a cab sauv!”
“Okay what person in their right mind doesn’t at least google wine pairings if they’re trying to impress?” She laughed, “you pair crab with chardonnay!”
“Thank you!” Picking up your wine glass you took a hefty swig, shaking your head at yourself, “I don’t even know why I went, it was stupid. I would’ve much rather just been with you.” Your free hand finally found hers, gently tugging her toward you and her arms instinctually found their home on your waist while yours loosely wrapped around her shoulders.
“Well at the very least it got you in this dress.” Emily smirked and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss her and the moment your lips met it was as if both of you melted into each other’s arms. The kiss was slow, genuine, soft as lips moved with grace. You pulled away only a fraction, happy grins on both your cheeks,
“You really like the dress hey?”
“I do.” She nodded, stealing another kiss.
“Guarantee you’ll like what’s under it better.” You teased and Emily pulled back a bit further, raising a brow.
“If you put on fancy lingerie for another woman I just might have to punish you…”
“Sounds like someone might be a little jealous?” Smirking, you raised a brow and she let out an offended scoff.
“Absolutely not.” She stuttered suddenly under your gaze, “okay, okay. Yeah… I was jealous tonight; I didn’t like the idea of you being out with someone else.”
“Well you’ve got nothing to worry about.” You kissed her softly, then shrugged, “and I forgot to do laundry before California, it’s like fourth tier under the dress.” Emily barked a laugh and you couldn’t help but smile at the way it reached her eyes, the way her nose scrunched up before she stole a smiling kiss from you.
“As long as it means I get you, I’ll take fourth tier any day angel.”
“You spoil me.” Your lips brushed against hers as you spoke and only a second later she was kissing you again. Her hands began to roam your body, cupping your tits through your dress, squeezing softly earning a quiet moan from you before her fingers pinched at your nipples. Your hands sunk lower on her body, squeezing her ass in retaliation, tugging her closer to you. Her teeth sunk into your lower lip, tugging it away from you before letting it release, her eyes dark as she looked down at you.
“I’m gonna remind you exactly why you don’t need to be going on stupid little dates, alright princess?”
“Yes daddy.” You nodded, a wicked grin on your cheeks.
“Good girl.” She pinched at your chin before her lips returned to yours, this time her tongue quickly sliding into your mouth, groaning over the taste that was so sweetly you. Her hands tickled up your thighs, slipping under your dress before they tugged down your panties, urging you to kick them off your legs.
One hand remained under your dress, simply palming at your cunt until you were rocking into her hand in a steady rhythm. She broke the kiss to glance down at you, watching with a happy smile as your eyes fluttered shut, your skin breaking out in goosebumps, fire peaking right under it. Emily kissed across your jaw, teeth scraping the column of your neck, pulling whimpers and moans from you as she did so. Finally her fingers slid through your folds and you shivered, letting out a little whimper right before she captured your lips in a kiss again. Her lips moved in time with her hand, trailing through your wetness, smearing your juices around your pussy before one finger slipped in and you broke the kiss with a gasp.
“Oh god…”
“That’s it angel.”
She cooed, her finger pumping slowly inside you, crooking just enough to hit the spot you wanted it most. A second one slid in alongside it and you moaned, your walls stretching and fluttering around her fingers. Your hand clenched at her shoulder and she picked up the speed, fingers thrusting deeper with each stroke, curling every second pump. As always, she had you exactly where you wanted within minutes, knowing how to read you perfectly, knowing just what you wanted and how. The heel of her hand brushed against your clit and your body shuddered, legs nearly giving out and she chuckled.
“Let’s get you to the couch.” She murmured, nipping at your earlobe as she pulled her fingers from you and you whined.
In the three feet between the kitchen island and the couch she skillfully managed to rid you of your dress and bra, letting you collapse onto the couch completely bare while your hands tugged at her clothes until she was down to her panties. Her fingers were still slick with your juices, hand coming to tilt your head up toward her while she stood beside the couch,
“Get daddy’s fingers nice and wet.”
In a flash your lips had wrapped around them, sucking them clean from your juices, tongue swirling around her digits while she pumped them in and out of your mouth. Continuing to suck on them your tongue eagerly lapped against her skin and when she pulled them from your mouth they were slick with spit.
“That’s my good girl.” She praised, hand returning to between your legs and easily sliding into your pussy. You fell back onto the couch, letting out a breathy sigh as Emily settled between your legs, fingers fucking into you once again.
“Oh god.. Oh fuck!” You whined, hands scrambling for her body, aching to feel her on you. To not tease you too much, she leant forward, holding herself up over your body while continuing to finger you. Her lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking it into her mouth and you moaned, hips rocking up to her fingers while your hand tangled into her hair. She bit down before her tongue soothed other the same spot while her fingers picked up the speed.
Your skin burned, pleasure shooting through you, tingling down to your toes as your body trembled underneath hers. Emily smirked against your tit, feeling the way your pussy was fluttering around her fingers, shivering each time she brushed against your g-spot. Her mouth latched onto the other side of your chest, her free hand pinching at the side she’d left, nipple hardening in the cool air of the room.
“Fuck… fuck!” You cried out, “gonna come…”
“That’s the point angel.” She teased before her teeth sunk into the curve of your breast in an attempt to leave you with a mark, one that would let anyone else know that you were taken, that you were hers.
Your back arched off the couch, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips as her fingers pressed into your g-spot harder and longer than before, hips shuddering up towards her before stilling, your peak rocking through you. Emily smiled softly against your skin, her fingers slowing, gently fucking your through your orgasm while continuing to suck at your chest.
“Christ…” you swore quietly, your chest heaving as you attempted to catch your breath and Emily chuckled, sitting up to steal a kiss.
“I’m far from done princess.” With a wicked grin she sunk to her knees between your legs, leaving little kisses and bites on your inner thighs while they trembled under her touch.
True to her word, she brought you to your peak another two times, once with just her mouth and once using both her mouth and her fingers, eagerly lapping up your juices as they dripped down your thighs.
You’d completely forgot about your date by the time she was done, wrapping you in her arms so you could finally relax and catch your breath, tossing the blanket over both of you. She was on her back, resting against the arm on the couch, hand gently stroking at your head that was placed on her chest while the two of you got lost in what had been playing on the television. You yawned quietly, almost nuzzling deeper into her chest and she chuckled softly.
“Are you gonna stay?” You asked and she nodded.
“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere. Gave Serg enough food for a couple of days.”
“What about your sheets?”
“What?” Her brow furrowed and she glanced down at you, though you were still just watching tv.
“If you leave cat pee all weekend you’re never going to get the smell out.”
“Oh!” She felt her heart jump into her throat as reality came crashing down around her, remembering why she had ended up at your place in the first place and her lie she’d used to cover it up, “I left them soaking, they’ll be fine.”
“Mmkay.” You replied, sitting up, “should we get upstairs?” You asked and she raised an eyebrow, sitting up as well. “I do believe I was promised a cock too?”
She chuckled, her brain shifting once again as she leant in to kiss you, just fiery enough to leave both of you aching for more. “You were practically begging to stop an hour ago.”
“You said I looked cute when I begged.”
“You do.”
“If I have to beg for daddy’s cock I will.”
“Oh princess.” Her hand stroked down the side of your cheek, pinching at your chin, “you’ve been good, there’s no need to beg.”
With a small laugh, you kissed her again before slipping off the couch and wrapping your dress back around you. If you were going upstairs you at least had to toss the leftovers and the untouched dessert into the fridge. Emily followed suit, tossing her shirt back on so she wasn’t completely topless, folding the blanket over the back of the couch and blowing out the candle on the coffee table. Her eyes glanced over the case file next to it and she frowned.
“You’re not obsessing over Dewald, are you?”
“Hmm?” You asked, turning back to her as you crossed the room and she gestured to the file, “Oh, no.” You laughed, “bout an hour before you got here sheriff from Beaufort called. They’d found a car abandoned just across the South Carolina border with no tags or plates a couple of months ago, no one thought anything about it til they saw the Federal bolo and realized it was the same make and model. He only scratched off half the bin number so now we know he made it out of Florida.”
“Mmm.” She replied, turning back to the case file she was nearly tempted to flip through it, see what other details you might have noted that she’d forgotten about. An uncaught unsub from recently definitely would be high up on the list, at least this was one you were monitoring, “hey… thanks for keeping up on this case, I know you’ve already got enough on your plate.”
“Meh.” You shrugged, your hand smoothing a piece of her hair back behind her ear, “feels weird to let it go, ya know? Being the original agent on the case and then having a run in with him twice with the BAU? It’s like the universe wants me to be the one to take him down.”
“Yeah…” She sighed softly, glancing up to you with a smile when you squeezed at her shoulder, prompting her off the couch. Her hand tangled with yours as you guided her to the stairs, you were one step up when she stalled, “aren’t you gonna set the alarm?”
“What alarm?” You turned back to her with a laugh.
“You’re seriously an FBI agent who doesn’t have a security system?”
“Yeah….”
“Seriously!?”
“I live in Alexandria… and I have a gun.” You laughed once again, “places I’ve lived without a gun… Clearwater. The door’s double locked, pinky swear. C’mon.”
“You should at least get a doorbell cam.”
“Calm down Prentiss.” You shook your head, “I only bought the place nine months ago, I’m still considering if it’s the right fit or not. I’ve got good neighbours and we’re in a nice area. C’mon.” Your head tilted, eyes glittering, “I was told I wasn’t going to have to beg….”
Emily let out a mock offended scoff, her brow raising in your direction as a wicked grin took over her lips, you certainly knew how to rollercoaster her train of thought and she definitely wasn’t complaining. Only a second later you were letting out a shriek as she was on you, chasing you up the stairs to give you exactly what you wanted.
___________________
@ssa-sapphic @mickey-gomez @clarawatson @cabotfan42 @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry  @anya-casablanca @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx  @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess  @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @thisisraes @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots  @lavenderhoney94 @overtrred28
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farfromstrange · 2 years
Text
I love reading sick!reader fics more than anything, but I just had the funniest thought and now I can’t stop thinking about it:
Matt Murdock would be ever the considerate mother hen when his partner is sick, we’ve established that, but I’ve been coughing for the past twelve hours with only five minutes in between fits and they’re so loud, even my mom in the next room just texted me if I’m “suffocating or still alive”. And you can pretty much hear it through the entire building, too.
IMAGINE poor Matt having to live with that for three days until the cold gets better or the medicine starts to take effect… I know he’d take good care of me, but I also know he’d have to resist the urge to run at the ghastly sound of the mucus coming up my throat and whatever’s left stuck in my lungs. Let alone the wheezing breath and the snot I keep blowing into the several tissues around me. Or touching me while I’m burning up like a bonfire? That man is sensitive enough already, he doesn’t need my head to give him third-degree burns.
It would either go something like this (the classic):
“Sweetheart, you’re burning up, your skin is clammy and you’re breathing funny. Did you take any medicine for that cough? Do you need me to get you something for your sore throat? How about a shower, a bath, some soup? Well, even though you don’t want it, I still got you all of that. And now I’m getting undressed and will cuddle you until you can finally fall asleep again. No buts.”
Or he’d completely lose his mind:
“Sweetheart, baby, love of my life, I worship the ground you walk on and I’d do anything for you, but I can’t possibly be next to you when you’re coughing like that. It’s like you’re screaming into my ear. But I’m gonna stay here anyway because your lungs sound funny, you’re hot and your nose is bleeding, I need to make sure you make it through the night. Let me get you some Tylenol and then I’ll just… sit here and wait until you’re asleep. While you quite literally sound like you’re dying. A broken record in my ear. Yup, no worries at all. I’ll just… sit it out. This is not about me.”
And every time I’d cough, he’d shoot up, check if I’m still alive and then he’d put some headphones on to ignore the sound of my body quite literally ejecting whatever virus it’s got. It sounds nasty even to me, so I can’t possibly imagine what it would be like to someone who can hear the Subway moving underneath his apartment, or a woman screaming all the way across the city.
I know he’d love me and take the best care of me even though he’s suffering, but that would be torture on his senses, let alone his worry radar. He’d be so on edge, he wouldn’t even get any rest, but he’d never leave me. He would try to tune it out, but as someone with covid lungs (even though she’s fully vaccinated and had it two times) tuning out the sound of my soul leaving my body is pretty impossible, let alone the sniffling because I can’t stand using tissues anymore at this point because everything’s raw.
So, I love sick fics and they offer me great comfort, but it is impossible for me to stop thinking about this now and I somehow find that funnier than I should. That’s probably the fever talking or whatever.
Poor Matty… He’d go absolutely insane, and he’d be more than relieved when the cough is over and I’m on my feet again.
And if he’s sick? Boy, you need to tie him down and knock him out. He hates being sick and whatever comes with it. The way it feels, sounds and turns his senses into mush. He’s delirious when he has a fever and he acts like a reckless child. You need to sedate him or he’ll actually crawl up the walls (like a cat).
So yeah, that’s that.
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w4ndering-th0ught · 1 year
Text
letter. 683 words. @jegulus-microfic.
Italics: Regulus / Bold: James
June 2, 1981
Dear Brother,
I write this knowing that you may never read it.
But this time I had to try.
I’m told you are still alive. Frankly, I’m surprised you made it through this war. You were always one of the first people to throw yourself into the line of danger.
I don’t know how much Dumbledore told you of the events at the end of the war. I’m not sure how much I’m permitted to share.
I want you to know that I left, Sirius. I should have done it sooner, but. Well.
- R. A. B.
June 16, 1981
Regulus,
Sirius read your letter. I don’t know if he’ll reply. But he read it.
I thought you’d like to know.
We all thought you were dead.
- James Potter
June 17, 1981
Potter,
Not dead, obviously.
How is he?
- R. A. B.
June 17, 1981
Dear Sirius,
I’d like to see you again. I miss you.
- R. A. B.
June 20, 1981
Regulus,
He’s well. Or as well as any of us are at this point.
Dumbledore won’t tell us anything about you. What happened?
- James Potter
June 23, 1981
Potter,
What a ridiculously broad question. What happened? Shall I just list out all the events from the last two years of my life?
- R. A. B.
June 24, 1981
Regulus,
That’d use up a fair bit of parchment, I’m not sure your little owl could handle quite that much.
You know what I mean.
- James Potter
June 25, 1981
Potter,
She can handle quite a lot, thank you.
Her name is Fran.
- R. A. B.
June 26, 1981
Regulus,
I gave Fran a few extra treats in apology. I hope you don’t mind.
I’m still waiting on an answer.
- James Potter.
June 30, 1981
Potter,
As I said in my first letter. (Which if I remember correctly was not even addressed to you.)
I left.
Dumbledore hasn’t said anything? He promised he’d
- R. A. B.
July 1, 1981
Regulus,
Left? Left what? The Death Eaters? Your family? When did you leave? Why? What changed? Did they hurt you? Where did you go? Why didn’t you tell anyone until now?
Did Dumbledore help you?
I’ve been trying to get answers out of him for weeks, but he won’t budge.
- James Potter
July 2, 1981
James,
I can’t say more. I made a promise.
- R. A. B.
July 3, 1981
Regulus,
We thought you died for them.
Sirius thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead. For them.
So fuck your promise. Fuck you.
- James Potter
July 13, 1981
Dear Sirius,
I’m sorry. It’s taken me far too long to say it.
I’m so sorry.
I love you.
- R. A. B.
July 13, 1981
James,
I don’t know if you still read my letters to Sirius, but I’m sorry to you, too.
I’m sorry about all of it.
I know I’m not being fair. And I’m not asking for forgiveness.
I just want you to know.
I sound like a broken record.
- R. A. B.
July 15, 1981
Regulus,
How do you know what a record is?
- James Potter
July 15, 1981
James,
I stayed with muggles after I left. I learned a lot.
They thought I was very strange.
- R. A. B.
July 16, 1981
Regulus,
Well look who’s finally answering some questions.
Still waiting on an answer to the rest of them.
- James Potter
July 17, 1981
Potter,
I would if I could.
You’re spoiling Fran with those treats. She keeps turning her nose up at mealtimes.
- R. A. B.
July 18, 1981
Regulus,
I get specialty dried rabbit chunks from a little muggle bird shop called Bach Bach. They exclusively play classical music. Fran has excellent taste.
- James Potter
July 19, 1981
Potter,
There’s a little park across the street from that shop. It’s a lovely spot. I think I might start taking my morning walks there.
- R.A.B.
July 20, 1981
Regulus,
I’ll be there on the 22nd, 9am. You better be there.
- James Potter
July 21, 1981
James,
I will be.
- R. A. B.
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quibbs126 · 3 months
Text
So because I was crazy at 11 pm last night, I actually tried to do the math to figure out what the von Karma family situation would be in Great Ace Attorney times
I know I sound like I’m a broken record about this, and I’m really not that obsessed with the von Karma family, it’s just because of my old OC Engel and me trying to figure out what to do with them again
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Anyways, so on to my findings
So the main 3 facts I used were Kazuma’s text about an apprentice of his father’s taking on Karuma’s name as a surname (which I was lucky enough to find an actual screenshot of), Genshin Asogi’s age (which isn’t technically known but I feel like he was most likely the same age as Mikotoba and Jigoku, which the Wiki lists at 43, so that’s what I’m using), and Manfred’s reckoned birth year of around 1951-1952
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So what did I gather from all this? Well for starters that the von Karma/Karuma family, at least under that name, isn’t super old, as they likely got the name in the late 1870s to early 1880s. They’re on their 6th generation in current day with Franziska’s niece
Second, due to Genshin being around 26 when he left for Britain, he likely only had apprentices for a few years before then. Also, due to that apprentice being able to change their surname, they were probably on the older side of potential apprentices, and assuming that Genshin’s apprentices weren’t older than him, the best age range I can think of for this first Karuma is being around 5-10 years younger than Genshin, which would make them anywhere between 33-38 at the time of Great Ace Attorney
Third, based on Manfred’s presumed birth year, it’s likely to assume his grandparent would have been alive at this time, however they would not be that old, only a young child at oldest. At least, assuming everyone in this family had kids at a relatively normal age. It’s possible that that’s not the case, but I’m just working off general averages
Based on these two points, the original Karuma family member would likely be the great grandparent of Manfred, and at the time of Great Ace Attorney, they would have a young kid that would later be Manfred’s grandparent
Also, as I’ve been told, the current Karuma family is American in the original Japanese translations. While it’s not impossible for the original Karuma to be a foreigner, I feel like the simplest answer would be that that apprentice of Genshin’s was Japanese. So in Great Ace Attorney times, we’re left with two options: the family is currently Japanese and moves over to America later, likely within the next generation or so, or that first Karuma immigrated to America and that’s where they currently live, with the possibility that the kid of this generation is half American
Edit: so I’ve gotten answers on another post about the topic, and from what it sounds, in the original version, the Karuma family is Japanese, but they lived in America for a while and then came back over to Japan. So for the purposes of this point in the timeline, they’d be Japanese. Switches things up for me but it’s interesting to learn
Also while I kept the genders ambiguous, they’re probably both male, mostly to keep the family name
And now I’m going to tie it into my OC Engel to see where they fit in with all this. If you don’t really care, I’ll just put it under the cut so you don’t have to see
Well for starters, Engel’s name is going to need a change, since I gave them that name while they were supposed to be from Germany, and they aren’t anymore. But I haven’t quite figured out what that new name will be
Second, while I proved that Engel probably isn’t either depicted above Karuma, they could plausibly still exist, and instead be the elder child of that first Karuma. 33-38 is kind of old to be having your first child (though not impossible, Klint was 33), but it sounds to me like it would be even more possible that this is a later kid of his. And I wouldn’t really need to change Engel’s age too much, since a 15 year old kid, while a bit of a stretch, isn’t super unrealistic. Or I could make Engel 13 or 14 to make it even better
And Engel still could keep the title of “first prosecutor of the Karuma family”, they just wouldn’t be the direct ancestor of the current day ones, that would instead be their brother. And it isn’t impossible that their brother followed in their footsteps, and that’s what got the prosecuting ball really rolling in the family
Also since Engel no longer has to have descendants, it means that I could continue their gender mystery, since they don’t need to have kids or get married to prove one or the other. Or I could make Engel a girl, which is something I’ve been toying with recently (the gender mystery started simply because I couldn’t figure out which one I wanted to do)
It does mean I’d have to axe Engel’s older sibling I recently gave them though, since there’s no place for a 20 something year old in this family timeline right now. And that Engel will likely be a solo act now, since their brother would still be very young and probably not much of a character. But oh well, I can work with that
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musicalmonstrosity · 4 months
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TW;bodily injury, detailed abuse, cringe culture, ableism, Domestic abuse, child abuse, CPS mentions, the system cringe subreddits
Fakeclaimers are so funny ngl bc they’ll be like “if that happened where’s the scars and proof why aren’t you being abused!” And then I’ll just be like oh word? Which scar you wanna see, this injury is the freshest (I still can’t touch it even while it’s scabbing the bone def got fucked up again) (thanks dad), or we can cover the hundreds of scars all over my damn body. We can cover my malformed legs from being broken so many damn times and the CPTSD fucking up my joints worse. I could audio record the horrific sounds my body makes due to abuse I suffered still effecting me into adulthood. I could show them the pictures of me in secondary locations to be abused. I could send them my CPS workers info and the social workers notes the day I came to school with a stab wound and bruised ribs.(and that shit happened 6 years ago, guess what my ribs are still fucked up!)They don’t actually want proof because when you show it it’s “seeking attention” or it’s “overdramatized” they have to move the goal post because they will dickride for abusers so hard. You could show them your damn diagnosis papers and they’ll sit there and say it’s fake or doctor shopping. Fakeclaimers and their echo chambers don’t care about “stopping fakers to protect disabled people” they want to sit on a high horse when ironically they don’t even have the conditions to speak on it or have such obvious internalized ableism. At this point their groups are becoming blooming hate groups that are becoming dangerous. I’ve actually been victim due to their rhetoric, guess what ,the majority of them are teenagers, ignorant and think they know it all. Back in high school a student who loved those fakeclaiming groups decided that I was faking my disability that required me to use a cane and the elevator (literal doctors note is required for either of these on school grounds and I got banned from using the stairs anyways because I kept getting injured on them). So what does he do? Threaten to break my cane, and eventually he actually did, feeling all righteous until I wasn’t getting up. He had to learn that day you don’t know people and your assumptions can get people killed, if I had hit my head when I fell from him kicking my cane inwards I could’ve died. All this because of what these people spread. I’m sick of it. And please try to fake claim (sarcasm) me so I can pull out my diagnosis papers and therapy notes. And for fucks sake you can see my meds, it’s not like I hide em on this blog.
And the funniest part about all of this? No one owes random people proof or great detail of their abuse or disorders. If you’re not their doctor or psychiatrist why care? It’s simple, they don’t care for proof, they care to target people and protect abusers.
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vintagepresley · 2 years
Text
THREE’S COMPANY
Pairing: Elvis & Priscilla x reader 
Word Count: 4,070 words
Warnings: 18+ SOME SMUT Talks of cheating, some drama, cursing, oral (f receiving), masturbating, Elvis and his two way mirror, etc.
Author’s notes: Okay, so this fanfic is a little different and it is also a two parter, which be prepared for that one cause the smut will be FLITHY. But I thought this would different and fun, and interesting to write. Especially because I love Priscilla the bi panic I feel with her and Elvis, GOSH. But I hope that you enjoy this one. Part two will be coming SOON. spelling errors possible. 
Part two!
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You got me peepin’ you got me hidin’…
Priscilla and Elvis just had a huge fight about the usual rumors of Elvis being with other women on tour, so during the fight Elvis had stormed out of the house and just left to get away from her, their marriage was on the rocks, it’s been on the rocks for a while now, but neither one of them wanted to say it. Priscilla has tried everything to keep making it work, but she didn’t think it could at this point. She needed someone to talk to, her best friend, which was you. You’ve known each other for years now after meeting Priscilla out in California back in the 60’s and the two of you grew close to one another and began to tell each other everything. Well... Almost everything. You cared about Priscilla deeply, but not in a way a friend or sister does, your feelings for her were deeper than that, but you wouldn’t dare tell her, and once you began to hang out with her and Elvis more and getting to know him more, you began to develop feelings for him as well. You always thought the two of them were beautiful, you hated the feelings you had for them both, but you never missed a chance to hang out with them whenever Elvis invited you. He too enjoyed your company; he even bought you a house in Memphis so that Priscilla could always have someone around when he wasn’t. But he couldn’t deny that you were beautiful, he sometimes poked fun at how you dressed because sometimes you reminded him of a hippie, but even so he secretly wanted you around as well, and sometimes he gave you a few glances when he thought Priscilla wasn’t looking, but it never bothered her because she knew Elvis wouldn’t do that with her best friend. Elvis also knew something a was bit different with you, it was the 70’s and people were doing what they wanted and experimenting, but it wasn’t exactly out in the open. But Elvis always watched you around Priscilla and he just knew.
So, once Elvis had his dramatic exit from Graceland Priscilla called you up on the phone right after upset and overwhelmed as she held the phone up to her ear, listening to the trilling sound of the phone, hoping that you were home. She heard the phone click and she smiled with a sense of relief. “Hello?” you asked softly. “N/A?” she said in anxious tone. You could instantly hear there was something wrong just from the tone of her voice. “Cilla? What’s the matter?” you asked concerned. She signed softly because she felt like a broken record complaining about the same thing. “It’s Elvis and the usual rumors on tour, he got angry with me, and we had a huge fight about it and then he stormed out of the house and left.” She said almost on the verge of tears. “Oh, Cilla… Are you even surprised at this point anymore?” you said a bit annoyed. But not annoyed at her, but at the fact that Elvis doesn’t even try to hide what he does at this point. She got quiet on the other end of the line. “I-I guess I shouldn’t be. But I don’t know what to do anymore. Can you just come over? He probably won’t be back until tomorrow. God knows where he ran off too, I could use my best friend right now. Pleaseeeee.” She laughed softly trying to put herself in better spirits. “Okay, okay, I’ll be over in 10 minutes.” You sighed dramatically with a laugh. Priscilla smiled, “Thank you, see ya in 10!” she said before hanging up the phone.
You shook your head with a smile as you hung up as well and then got up and looked in the mirror deciding if you should change your clothes or not, but you shook your head reminding yourself that Priscilla is just your friend despite your feelings for her. Doubt she even thinks of me in that way. You decided to just go in what you were already wearing, which was a pair of bellbottoms, and a white flowy long-sleeved to that was cropped slightly, showing a bit of your abdomen, paired with a pair of black boots. As you grabbed your keys and your purse, you stopped in the mirror that hung by the front door and fixing your hair a bit before giving yourself another glance before heading out of your house, you approached the car, getting inside and began the short little drive to Graceland, a house that no matter how many times you’ve visited always seemed to amaze you.
Meanwhile as Priscilla waited for you to arrive, she fixed herself up to make it look as if hadn’t been crying and fixing her hair, touching up her make up. Sometimes Elvis would bring you up to her voicing his “concerns” about you and how you look at her, she always just laughed it off. But Priscilla wasn’t an idiot. She knew and honestly, she didn’t mind because sometimes the way you looked her made her feel beautiful, because she wasn’t getting those looks from Elvis anymore. Thinking about that made Priscilla smirk to herself a bit, she wasn’t a stranger to being a bit intimate with a woman, when Elvis was obsessed with his camera when he first got it, he would record her and sometimes her and other women, having them kiss and touch each other as he watched, but that would be about it. It never led to sex. She suddenly got this crazy idea in her head and thought if he gets to have fun, then so can I.
When you pulled up to the gates of Graceland they began to open, Priscilla had let one of the staff know that you were coming for a visit, as you drove up the drive way, and parked your car in front of the house, Priscilla heard a car door shut and made her way downstairs to meet you at the door, as soon as you approached she was already opening the door with a smile. “Finally!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around you in a hug. You laughed softly embracing her. “You’re such drama.” You teased as you both pulled away and she led you into the house, closing the door behind you. She seemed to be in better spirits now, you smiled as you watched her, she looked beautiful as always dressed in one of her usual dresses that clung to her a bit tight, her hair down and curly. How could Elvis ever cheat on her?? She was leading you into the living room now, where she had two glasses of wine set out for the two of you and she sat down on the couch, patting the spot beside her. You walked over and sat down, sitting your purse beside you. “You seem to be doing better since we talked 10 minutes.” You said as you raised an eyebrow at her. “Well... I had a moment to think, and you were right, I shouldn’t be surprised by what Elvis does.” She said with a shrug, reaching for her glass of wine and taking a sip. You nodded slowly shrugging as well, this was typical for the two of them, Elvis would be back and apologizing and she’d forgive him. So, you tried to never say too much about it. You adored them both and hated to take sides, you grabbed your glass and began to drink your wine as well.
You watched as she finished the first glass of wine and then went and poured another, it was not like her at all especially because Elvis never liked for her or anyone to really drink and he could come back at any minute. You took a few more sips of your own and sat it back down on the table, your hands resting on your lap. Things felt different with her today, something was off about it, and it wasn’t just the Elvis thing. “Are you sure you’re okay, Cilla?” you asked. “Of course, I am. Stop worry, N/a.” she smiled. She drank down her second glass, she was preparing herself for what she was about to do. If she even had it in her to do it. She got up from the couch now with a smile. “Come upstairs with me?” she asked. You furrowed your brow a bit at her request. You’ve never been upstairs to Elvis’ bedroom, their bedroom except for one time when they gave you a tour of the house years ago. “Uh, why?” you questioned. She rolled her eyes with smile, and she reached over to grab a hold of your wrist, tugging at you gently. “Just come on…” she hummed. You got up from where you were sitting now as she was pulling you with her toward the stairs and now you both were making your way up. You worried now more than ever that Elvis would be home, you knew he suspected you to have a small crush on Priscilla and you didn’t know how he’d react if he caught you two alone, upstairs, in his room.
As you reached the top of the stairs you pulled your hand away from her now, “Cilla, what’s going on?” you asked sternly now. She opened the bedroom door, rolling her eyes a bit. “Stop asking questions…” she said softly with a smile and grabbing your hand to pull you into the room now and shutting the door behind the two of you and then she turned back around to face you. You looked around the dark room that was a bit different now than what you remembered, darker than before and you noticed the three tv sets that were added to the room which you thought was a bit odd and then you noticed a big mirror that sat across the bed and it was a bit odd looking and then you turned your attention back to Priscilla who was staring at you now with look you’ve never seen before the silence between the two of you was deafening. Before you knew it she was walking close toward you now with a bit of hesitation, your brow furrowed trying to figure out what was going on and now she was real close, her body pressing up against your own, you took a deep breath now, you both staring at each other now. “Priscilla… W-What are you do-“before you could even finish your sentence her lips were against yours and your eyes widen a bit, confused but also enjoying this, that you got caught up in the moment and returned her kiss and now her arms were wrapping around your waist as your hands around hers as you kissed deeply, something you also wanted to do was suddenly happening, could this even be real? But then you realized what was happening and pulled from her with a confused look on your face, “What are you doing?! Are you crazy? Elvis could come home any minute!” you whispered so the house staff couldn’t hear. Priscilla a bit taken aback by your reaction and becoming flustered by how embarrassed she was now. “I thought... Do you not have feelings for me??” she asked.
Now you were even more shocked than before, how did she know that? Did Elvis say something? “I-I… I do.” You said hesitantly. “But we can’t do this… If Elvis caught us, he’d be furious.” You said. She was stepping closer to you again, her hands reaching up to cup your face as her face got close to yours, shaking her head. “I don’t care… He gets to have fun... Why can’t I? I’ve seen the way you look at me. You’ve made Elvis jealous sometimes. I’ve always been curious what it would be like…” she whispered. You were staring into her beautiful blue eyes now, biting down on your bottom lip a bit flustered that she noticed. You didn’t know what to say and now she was kissing you again, you couldn’t help but return each kiss she placed on your lips. “Elvis won’t be back any time soon…” she cooed. You let out a soft “Mmm” against her lips, wrapping your arms back around her small waist and pulling her against your body, and she smiled as her hands found their way back to your waist, you both giggled softly as you began to kiss each other again now a bit more passionately. You knew this was wrong, but she was right Elvis did get to have his fun, but you also thought about doing this for so long that you didn’t care about what he thought now, especially because she’s known this entire time. Your hands were slowly running up and down the curves of her body that was etched out so perfectly in her dress.
Now she was gripping your waist with her hands, and she gently pushed you back against the bed, you took another slow deep breath now realizing that you both were about to do this in the bed they shared. She sat beside you now, her hand resting against your right thigh, and she leaned toward you pressing light kisses against your cheek as she whispered, “I’ve never actually had sex with a woman before, so…” she blushed. You nodded slowly, turning your head a bit to face her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, brushing some of her curly hair out her face. “It’s okay...”  you whispered back. She now scooted back against the bed kicking off her shoes and laying on her back as she bit down on her bottom, staring at you, you followed behind her, kicking off your boots and getting up now and climbing into the bed, hovering above her for a moment before lying beside her and turning over to your left side to face and now she turned onto her ride side facing you, you embraced each other again slowly, your bodies slowly rubbing up against each other, your lips capturing hers in a kiss again, the kiss deepening slowly as you made out, your hand finding its way beneath her dress, caressing her thighs gently, you could feel her shivering from your very touch.
You smirked against her lips, grazing your teeth gently against her bottom lip as your hand found its way to her ass and giving it a gently squeeze, she let out a soft whine, she was so desperate to be touched more that she pressed up against you more, she clearly wasn’t getting this kind of affection from Elvis as of lately and she was craving it. You pulled your hand from beneath her dressed and reached around towards her back and finding the zipper, slowly unzipping her dress and carefully removing it off of her, she maneuvered herself a bit to help you and once the dress was off, you tossed it to the floor, she was now lying there in just her bra and panties, a matching black lace set and you licked your lips slowly at the sight of her and how beautiful she looked, running your hand slowly and gently along her thigh, hips, and waist as you admired her. She grinned a bit at your reaction and now she was unbuckling your belt and trying to get your bellbottoms off and you laid back and lifted your hips to remove your pants, kicking them off and then tossing them to the floor with her dress and then you removed your shirt as well, throwing it with the rest of the close, you were really one to wear bras, it was the hippie in you, so laid there in just your white lace panties, you watched now as Priscilla had her turn to admire you and your body, she bit down on her bottom lip, running her hand along your abdomen and up to your breasts, running her hands along them slowly, a small giggle escaping her and then she pulled her hand away and sat up a bit, removing her own bra and tossing to the floor and she laid back on her side, pressing herself up against you once again, her hand around your waist and yours around hers as you held each other as close as possible, each of your breasts rubbing up against one another’s as you slowly began to grind up against one another, kissing a bit more sloppily now, her tongue slipping past your lips and swirling around yours, small noises escaping you both as each of your hands explored each other’s bodies, writhing around in the bed together now, completely oblivious to the outside world.
Elvis had now decided that he was going to come back home after having some time to think things over, knowing he over reacted and he wanted to apologize, so he drove back home, once he eventually got back he noticed your car was there, which wasn’t a surprise for him he figured Priscilla called you right after the fight, he headed inside now, closing the door behind him and looking around a bit when he didn’t hear your voices, he walked toward the living room, seeing glasses of wine and your purse but no sign of the two of you. So, he walked out toward the backyard, still no sign of the two of you, he confused and figured the two of you were up to your usual antics, he was hoping to apologize, but shrugged and headed upstairs, the closer he got to his bedroom he could hear noises coming from it, he made a face and he pressed his ear up against the door gently, he could hear Priscilla moaning, but not only that he recognized the other voice which was yours and he mouthed, “What the fuck?” to himself quietly. He didn’t know what was going on or how he should feel. But he wanted to know what was going on in his room. So, he decided to head down the hall that led into another entrance to his room, but he stopped and opened a door that led to the mirror that faced the bed in his room, Priscilla hadn’t known this, but he had installed a two way mirror some time ago when he was heavily into his video recordings and just liked to watch sometimes from another room.
Once he was in the hidden room, he was in complete shock at what he was seeing, the two of you naked in his bed, you were now hovering over Priscilla and pressing small kisses along her neck and down to her chest, your lips grazing up against his right nipple, your hands running up and down her sides, her head tilted back as she let out soft moans from your very touch. He was completely baffled, but not surprised at you at all. “I fucking knew it.” He mumbled, but part of him couldn’t even be mad, if it were a man, he’d be furious right now. But he was attracted to you, and these were the kind of things he enjoyed, watching two women together. He could already feel the tightness in his pants growing, watching the two of you together was already making him hard, he couldn’t stop watching now, his right hand finding its way down toward his pants, rubbing it slowly up against the fabric of his jeans, he let out a soft groan as he continued to watch.
Now you were kissing along Priscilla’s abdomen, staring up at her as you did, she was already breathing so heavy and squirming at your gentle touch, she could feel the wetness pooling between her thighs as she watched you slowly move between her legs, your hands rubbing her thighs and kissing the inside of them, she shivered beneath your touch, your hands moving up to brush your fingertips against the fabric of her panties, a part of you still couldn’t believe this was happening, you hooked your fingers between the hem of her panties and slowly slid them down her legs, removing them off of her and tossing them to the floor, your hands moving back against her thighs and spreading her legs wide open, she began to blush because no one else has seen her this vulnerable but Elvis. You bit down on your bottom lip at the sight of her wet pussy, and you couldn’t help but smile because you were the reason for it. Meanwhile behind the mirror Elvis had his hand in his pants at this point, stroking his cock slowly soft groans escaping his lips, he was a bit jealous that the both of you decided to do this and didn’t think to include him, especially Priscilla knowing he loved this kind of thing.
Your arms were around Priscilla’s thighs and your hands on her tiny waist, scooting her forward, kissing slowly along her panty line, she was so anxious and excited because she never realized how much she loved this, how different it made her feel, she watched you closely, biting at her thumb nervously as she mumbled softly, “Stop teasing me, N/a…” you smirked at her words and nodded slowly, your face now buried between her legs, your tongue dragging slowly between her wet folds, finding its way to her clit and slowly your tongue around it slowly, lapping up every bit of her wetness and continuing to play with her sensitive clit, she let out a soft whimpering moan, her hands tangling in your hair, her thighs slightly wrapping around you as you ate her out. Elvis was so turned on now that he couldn’t bare it anymore, he pulled his hands out of his pants, buttoning them back up even though his boner was obvious as ever, he got up now and left the little room as he grumbled softly under his breath, “Fuck it..” and he walked back down the hall and to the main door of his room and he swung the door open, the sound of it scaring the both of you that you quickly pulled yourself from between her legs, you both screaming a bit as looked over to see Elvis standing in the door way, both of you scrambling to cover yourselves up with the blankets. You were in shock, scared to be honest. You weren’t sure what he was about to do, or how he was about to react. Priscilla in a state of shock from being caught. “Elvis….” She said softly. “E-Elvis… We…. I-I can explain…” you say nervously.
He stood there with a smirk on his face as he stared at the two of you. “Oh, explain what? That the two of ya could do this and not include me?” he said playfully. You were a bit confused about what he just said, honestly this whole day has had you fucking confused between Priscilla and now him being weird, you then glanced down at his pants and saw he was hard, his cock practically screaming to be let out of his pants and then your eyes looked back up at him as he slowly walked into the room now, shutting the door behind him. “Cilla, if ya wanted to make things interesting in the bedroom again, you should’ve just said that, darlin’..” he smirked. She rolled her eyes because she knew his feelings about you and you knew your own feelings about him and how you had a bit of a crush on him as well, the both of them always having you in quite of a bi-panic.
Now he was coming to sit down on the bed with the same stupid smirk on his face as he stared at you both. “I think some of us are aware of our feelins’ toward each other… Hm?” he laughed softly looking at you. It always felt like he was staring into your soul as if he could read your every thought. Priscilla even had a smirk on her face now, chewing at her bottom lip, she was into it. The room quiet now as you all looked at each other.
“Whaddya say, ladies…. A threesome??” he said teasingly with that devilish smirk of his.
TO BE CONTINUED…..
TAGLIST: 
@erutluve​ @idk3453​ @natipooxx​ @re3kin​ @elvisdoll​ @godlypresley​ @elvisgirl35​ @lindszeppelin​
disclaimer: I wasn’t sure who to tag in this one, but I just tagged people who ask to be tagged from the previous ones. 
190 notes · View notes
Text
- Take me instead -
Blaine DeBeers
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Blaine DeBeers x reader one shot
Can be seen as part of the same storyline as my last fic but can also be read separately
Best playlist:
Word count: 1,112
🗡️ angst with some slight fluff
⚠️TW⚠️
Hostage like situation, mention of guns, broken bones, injury detail, mentions of blood, zombie reader…
- Take me instead -
It was a regular day down at the scratching post, it wasn’t yet open so I was making my rounds of the place, checking that all the tables were clean and not rocky, Don E was working behind the bar, wiping some glasses before placing them strategically on the shelves.
Technically I didn’t work here, but since Blaine kept me locked up all day, there wasn’t much else to do.
The sound of a cellphone ringing snapped me out of my thoughts, Don E excused himself and hurriedly went out the back door, as there wasn’t much reception down here, so now I was alone, I took this time to go to the bathroom, just to check that my hair and makeup was alright for tonight.
I re entered the bar to see a man in a soldiers uniform, I recognised him quickly as Chase Graves, the current leader of Filmore Graves and thorn in Blaine’s side, I understood they had some sort of business agreement to do with importing brains to Seattle, and that Blaine’s been pretty stressed recently about struggling to get bodies past the wall.
“Can I help you?” I asked timidly, walking over to him slowly, he’d already sat himself down on one of the black leather barstools and was reaching over to grab himself a glass and a bottle of our finest whiskey.
“Well, who might you be? One of Blaine’s play-things I suppose?” I didn’t know how to react to that, my brows furrowing as he smirked at me.
“Be a dear and tell Blaine I gotta talk to him, would ya?” I rolled my eyes but did it anyways, I didn’t want to be left alone with this guy anyways, I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I walked away.
I banged on Blaine’s office door, the sound of his record player almost drowning me out, I was about to knock again when he opened the door.
“Hello gorgeous, missing me?” He taunted before pulling me into for a heated kiss. “You have company.”
“Well I suppose it would be rude not to invite them in!” He walked back to his desk chair and sat down as I turned around to get Graves.
I took one step back towards the bar before I felt a handgun press into my side, I instinctively yelped and put my hands up.
“(Y/n)? Everything okay?” Worry scattered in Blaine’s voice.
“Oh she’s just fine.” Chase stood by the office door, one of his hands pinning my arms behind my back, the other holding his gun to my head.
Blaine looked over, a mixture of shock and anger on his face. “Look man, the shipments are coming in, they’re just delayed…” He said while holding his hands up in front of his face, he didn’t dare to draw his own gun, too scared that he’d hurt me if he took any risk. “Don’t hurt her, take me instead, she has nothing to do with this”
“It’s a funny thing…” I felt his hand move to my left wrist. “You can’t really physically torture a zombie, they just heal anyways… but emotional torture…”
He suddenly pulled my arm, a growl escaping him as I heard a snap before doubling over in pain, screaming out.
Blaine’s eyes went red and he took a step forward.
“Don’t even think about it.” Chase said slowly, pulling me closer to him once again, gun still pointed at my head. “Blaine, stay calm, I’ll be okay” tears brimmed my eyes as I tried to deal with the pain, trying to keep myself from going into rage mode, he’d kill me with no hesitation if I dared move.
Blaine pulled himself out of it, steadying himself on his desk before looking up at me, eyes going back to their usual icy blue.
“I’ll get my crew on it immediately, you’ll have your brains by tomorrow, I swear.”
Chase chuckled. “I hope you mean it, but just to be sure…” He stomped his foot down on my left calf, another snap echoing through the office as he let go on me, allowing me to drop at his feet, groaning in pain.
“Tomorrow, you have till 6pm or I’ll be back, and I won’t be as nice to your little girlfriend.”
Blaines eyes once again going red as he gripped the edges of his desk, holding himself back while Graves turned and left, exiting the bar and grabbing the bottle of scotch once again.
I looked up to see Blaine kneeling before me, eyes once again back to normal.
“Are you okay? Sorry, stupid question…” I laughed softly and leaned forward into his chest, tears streaming down my face. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He wasn’t used to being affectionate or comforting, but now he didn’t have much choice, even though he wouldn’t admit it, he cared for me, why would he keep me around all the time? He wanted me all for himself.
His arms snaked around my waist, holding me tight and shushing my soft cries.
•••
The bar was back open and everything was running smoothly, Don E shouting out that he would buy everyone another round of drinks if they took part in the zombie human dance battle, the usual.
Except instead of being out in the crowd, socialising and boosting his ego by getting hit on by hot young zombies, Blaine sat by my side, wrapping up my arm and leg in a soft white bandage.
“Luckily zombies heal these things pretty quickly, give it a few hours and you’ll be good as new.” he smiled softly at me, stroking my hair before trailing his hand down to my knee. “Here, lay down, you should sleep it off.” He tapped the pillow next to me and helped me lay down without putting any weight on my arm.
“I’m sorry, I should have protected you, I never thought he’d hurt you.”
I watched him as he looked away, remorse written all over him.
“You didn’t know.” I said, only above a whisper, exhaustion taking over me as he stroked my hair.
“Can you stay a while? I know you got a bar to run but-“ he interrupted me. “Don E’s got it covered, I’m sure he can handle it.”
I smiled at him and he smirked back.
“Well… aren’t you gonna lie down?” We both giggled softly as he lay himself down next to me, keeping a small distance since he didn’t want to hurt me anymore than Chase already had, his hand landing softly on top of mine as he watched me closing my eyes and eventually falling asleep.
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nowandajenn · 2 months
Text
Blue Christmas- chapter 10
Summary: After almost three years of marriage, everyone would tell you that Chris and his wife Kelly are the most stable, solid couple they know. But behind closed doors, things are tense as they keep trying for a baby, to no avail. When a secret threatens to shake their solid marriage to it’s core, will they be able to pick up the pieces?
Series warnings: angst (like a lot), mentions of infidelity, language, family drama, pregnancy, sexual situations.
Author’s Note: I do not consent to have my content, whether it be this story or anything else of my creation, posted by a third party on any other platform other than right here without my permission. This blog is 18+ and is not intended for minors. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Heed the warnings.
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Anesthesia is a warm, heavy blanket covering me from head to toe that makes it impossible to want to climb out from under of. My limbs feel like they weigh a thousand pounds, and my head is full of cotton wool. People are talking around me, but everything sounds distorted, like I’m underwater. There’s an itch under my nose, but the thought of lifting my arm to scratch is seems like an insurmountable task. 
I feel a huge, warm hand wrapped around my much smaller one, their thumb running soothingly over the skin on the top of my hand. God, that feels nice. Soft, slightly chapped lips press lightly against the pulse point on the inside of my wrist, and I immediately know that it’s Chris sitting next to me. I’m safe. As long as he’s here with me, I’m okay. I’m okay. With that thought in my head, I allow myself to drift a little bit deeper into the abyss. 
Chris sits next to the bed, unable to take his eyes off you in case something happens. It’s been about an hour since you were moved from recovery to your private room, and he’s been sitting next to you the whole time, willing you to open your eyes. 
The nurse that’s in the room taking your vitals stops and starts entering information into the laptop on her cart. 
“Is she doing okay?” Chris asks, swallowing hard. He’s not used to this. He’s not used to feeling so out of control. He’s not used to seeing you laying unconscious and broken in a hospital bed. He’s desperate for reassurance that you’re going to be okay.
“She is.” the nurse tells him. “She’s probably going to be in and out of consciousness today between the anesthesia and the pain medicine, and that’s perfectly normal. As long as her vitals stay stable and she’s not having any trouble breathing on her own, things are good.”
“Okay.” he breathes. He looks down at his cell phone that’s sitting in his other hand, debating on whether or not he really wants to do this. According to Meghan, someone had covertly taken pictures in the hospital waiting room of Chris and your families and posted them online, prompting rumors to start swirling around. She had told him it might be better to address it and set the record straight about what was going on than to let people get started with wild assumptions. 
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“Hey man, how’s Kelly doing?” Josh asks. 
“She’s still out of it. Listen, I don’t want to leave the hospital if I can help it, and I was wondering if you could run by the house really quick and grab some stuff for me.” Chris tells him. 
“Sure, just let me know what you need.” 
“My phone charger, definitely. A couple of changes of clothes for me, and a change of clothes for her. They had to cut off her clothes when they brought her in, so she doesn’t have anything. Her coat got trashed when they were pulling her out of the car……” he stops and takes a deep breath, trying to get his emotions under control. 
“Listen, don’t worry about it. I got you guys. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll go ahead and take Dodger out and feed him while I’m there.”
“Thanks, man.”
Chris hangs up the phone and sighs, running his hand over his beard. 
“So, how long did it take you to come up with this plan?” Connor asks from his seat on the other side of my bed. 
“What are you talking about?” 
“This. The canceling everything you’ve got going on, the whole loving, concerned husband thing. What do you think? You think she’s going to get out of here and go back home with you and everything is going to be fine? You’ll take care of her and she’ll just decide to forget about the fact that you cheated on her, and she’ll just forgive you and you’ll live happily ever after? Is that it?”
“Will you give it a goddamn rest? Look, you’ve made it abundantly clear that you hate me and you think my guts would look great decorating your wall, but seriously…..just……”
A small groan makes them both turn their attention to me. 
“Kelly? Honey?” Chris whispers. 
“Will you two….knock it off? Please? My head…..” I groan softly. For some reason, my throat feels raw and tender, like I just spent the last day screaming my head off for no reason.
“I’ll go see if I can find her nurse.” Connor says, getting up from his chair. 
Chris scoots his chair a little closer to my bed, and brings my hand up to his lips. 
“Hey, sweetheart. Can you open your eyes for me?” 
I groan softly, turning my head to the side. With a monumental effort, I crack my eyes open a little bit, only to close them right away against the bright sunlight streaming into the room. 
“Too bright.” 
Chris gets up to pull the drapes shut a bit, and Connor and my nurse walk into the room. 
“Good morning, Mrs. Evans. My name is Andi; I’m your nurse. How are you feeling?” 
“Hurts.” I rasp. 
“That’s to be expected. Can you do me a favor and open your eyes for me, so I can check your pupils?” she asks. 
I scrunch my face in distaste but slowly open my eyes again, pleased that the room is a little dimmer. The nurse shines a flashlight in my eyes, checking my pupils, and then putting it away in the pocket of her scrubs. 
“Very good. We have a respiratory therapist outside, and he’s going to give you something to drink and a little snack so he can check your swallowing. You had a tube in your throat for the surgery, and he just wants to make sure that everything is okay with your throat. While he’s doing that, I’m going to go ahead and page your doctor so she can come in and talk to you. Okay?” 
I nod softly, wincing at the pain in my neck. 
Chris and Connor stand off to the side, out of the way, while the therapist tests my swallowing. The heavy, drowsy feeling starts to wear off a bit, and I start to become a little bit more aware of what’s going on. My left arm is heavily wrapped and in a black sling across my chest, and there’s a hot pink cast on my left leg from my foot to my knee. My ribs ache, and I can feel a bandage on my stomach. The oxygen tube up my nose and the IV bags hanging on the pole behind the bed are the final touches that let me know that whatever happened was pretty serious. 
The doctor comes in right after the respiratory therapist leaves, and she introduces herself as she shakes my good hand gently. 
“Mrs, Evans, it’s good to meet you. I’m Dr. Richards. I’m the one that admitted you when you were brought in this morning.” she says. 
“Hi.” I say softly. I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing that I’m about to hear news that’s going to severely impact my life for the forseeable future, and I’m not ready. The monitor attached to my finger picks up my increased heart rate as I slowly start to spiral into panic mode, and the monitor next to me starts beeping more intensely. 
“Mr. Evans, Mr. Sullivan, why don’t you give us a few minutes alone to talk? Go ahead and let your families know that Kelly is awake. I promise to let you know as soon as we’re done.” 
I look over at Chris with tears in my eyes, and I can tell that he doesn’t want to leave, but he also doesn’t want to overwhelm me with so many people being in the room. 
“I’ll be right back, okay? I promise.” he tells me, dropping a kiss to my forehead. 
Once the door closes behind Chris, Dr. Richards pulls the chair next to my bed closer and sits down as I start to fidget with the sheet that’s covering me. 
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The next time I blink my eyes open, the drapes in the room have been opened again, and by the position of the sun and the shadows in the room, I’ve been out for a few hours. After speaking with the doctor and getting the full picture of my injuries and what my recovery was going to look like, along with some other news, a panic attack had set in and the doctor had ordered medication to calm me down, which also knocked me out almost immediately. 
I groan softly as the pain in my body settles in, and I look over to my right, expecting to see Chris, but I’m met with the sight of my mother. 
“Hey. How do you feel?” she asks. 
“Like I went head to head with a brick wall and lost.” I croak out. My throat is so damn dry and sore still. 
I point to the pitcher and cup on the overbed tray, and she gets up to pour me a cup of water, holding the straw to my lips so I can drink. 
“Where’s dad?” I ask. 
“He and Connor went back home to drop Olivia off. She was getting a little antsy. I’m going to go ahead and tell dad to go ahead and clean up your old room and get it all ready for you for when you get out of here.” 
I turn to look at her, confusion clouding my mind. 
“What are you talking about?” 
“You’re going to need someone to take care of you when you get out of here. You’ve got a long way to go before you can take care of yourself.” she tells me. 
“And you, what? You think I’m going to come back home and let you do it?” I ask incredulously. Oh Lord Jesus, this must be some sort of nightmare I fell into…..
“Kelly, you’re going to need help. You’re a mess right now. Chris said he had cancelled everything on his schedule for the next couple months, but are you really going to make him do that to take care of you? He has so many important obligations….and honestly, since Connor told us you’ve been staying with him, I didn’t think that you’d want to go back home right away.”
“So, you don’t REALLY want to take care of me, and help me heal. You’re offering out of obligation. Because you think my husband is too important and too busy to take care of me. Am I getting this right?” I ask, getting angrier by the second. 
“Kelly…..”
“No. Absolutely not. You didn’t even want to take care of me when I was a kid, when it was your goddamned job. You haven’t made it a secret my whole life that I was unwanted. You had Colleen, and then you were going to have one more, and you were done. But then one turned into two. I was the bonus baby that you got stuck with. The extra that was always too much trouble. You make me feel like a fucking inconvenience at every turn, even now. And it’s not enough for you to make me feel like I’m an inconvenience to you, but like I’m one to my husband too. Maybe that’s why he cheated on me. That, and the fact that I couldn’t give him a baby. What do you think?” I ask, my breath hitching in my chest and tears filling my eyes. The heart monitor starts beeping rapidly, signalling my distress. 
“Honey, that’s not-”
“Get the fuck out. I don’t want you here. I don’t want to see you.” I sob out, all of my emotions crashing down on me at once. 
The nurse runs in with Chris hot on her heels just in time to see me pick up the small water pitcher and throw it at my mom. 
“Get out!” I scream. 
Chris stops my mom just outside of my room. “That’s it. I’m done watching you hurt her. I’ve watched it for years, and I haven’t said shit because I felt like it wasn’t my place. But this is my place now, between you and her. I don’t know what the hell you said to her, but you’re not going back into that room. You’re not going to see her unless she explicitly says that SHE wants to see YOU. Until that happens, you’re not going to come near her.”
Chris walks back into the room to see the nurse next to your bed, checking the incisions on your stomach to make sure that you didn’t pull any sutures. There’s two medium size incisions from where they took your spleen laparoscopically, raw and freshly stitched, and seeing them makes Chris almost burst into tears. 
“I know this is rough, and I know you’re in pain and you’re hurting, but if you don’t calm down, we’re going to have to sedate you. You’re going to hurt yourself even more if you’re not careful.” Andi tells me. 
“Go ahead! That’s the best fucking idea anyone’s had yet today!” I practically growl. 
She just quirks an eyebrow at me, a small smirk gracing her features as she tries not to laugh at my spitfire attitude. 
Once she gets done checking me over and changing out two of the bags of medicine I’m hooked up to, she takes her leave, telling me and Chris to call if we need anything. 
I look at Chris and we just stare at each other for a few minutes, neither one of us knowing what to say. He doesn’t know what to say to reassure me or comfort me. I’m afraid if I open my mouth to say anything to him, the news the doctor told me will fall from my lips and be out in the world, unable to be taken back. And I’m not ready to face that yet. I can barely wrap my own mind around it. 
“We ran a ton of labs on you when you came in, which is normal for trauma cases. When we got the reports back, we found something. Your hcG levels are high. A lot of women have low levels of the hormone even if they’re not pregnant, but your levels indicate that you are. Looking at the numbers, it looks as if it’s very early, probably only a few weeks. A normal pregnancy test wouldn’t pick it up because the levels aren’t quite high enough to show up on a test, but the labs don’t lie.”
“That’s…..no. That’s not right. We haven’t even had……” My mind is working ten to a dozen, trying to focus and make sense of what I’m hearing. 
“Two weeks ago. But that’s too soon. It wouldn’t show up yet.”
“In early pregnancy, hcG levels double every two to three days. We’ll keep an eye on your levels while you’re here, and you should make an appointment to see your OBGYN in a few weeks.” she tells me. 
A broken sob works its way up through my throat. 
“We’ve been trying….trying to have a baby….for over a year……and then my husband…..he cheats on me, and I end up pregnant. Isn’t that…..isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”
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secrets-of-everwich · 11 months
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04-1 I’ve Got It
[Click]
[Electronic hum underlies the recording]
{Callie}
Hello, this is the 7th October, and this is Callie Hew- You know who I am.
I’ve got it. The missing piece. It’s Charles. I’m sure of it. See, I was doing a tour of the Manor, and we got to the part- I should start at the beginning.
We do tours of the Manor, you know, to get money in. People pay a surprising amount to listen to me, X, or someone else to drone on about Everwich and the Manor’s history. I mean, I’d be one of them if I wasn’t the one doing the tour. I’ll make a second part to this where I describe the tours of the Manor in detail. Anyway, we go to a spare room in the middle of the tour, where we keep all of the paintings of the Florences. All the ones of Charles were destroyed before we got there. Like, his face is ripped out.
[Getting fainter]
Hold on, let me get one and show- Wait. No. Try to describe- Give me a second!
[Door opens]
[A pause]
[Door closes]
[Getting louder]
So, basically, it’s an early 19th Century portrait, because all the high-up people had enough money to get portraits of themselves and their kids. There’s one of Kitty, Henry, and Esther, but that’s not the point. This one is of Charles. And- His body, it’s normal. Kinda green-ish clothes, with hints of blue. Pale skin, but not deathly pale. Then you look up the portrait and- No face. It’s like someone has got a knife and ripped up the canvas. Right on the face. It’s sort of creepy, to be honest. But then you can see their ginger shoulder-length curly hair fine.
[Sounds of a large painting being put down]
So, I got thinking. If the Everwich Ghost is Charles, and the Everwich Ghost doesn’t want to be seen, that must be why everyone who sees them gets attacked. When Charles was a kid, he didn’t like too many people being around him at any one time, so would often run away.
[A pause]
I think, I mean, this is just an assumption. Based off that newspaper. From that James person. That’s why. Yeah.
Anyway, he didn’t like people seeing him, so maybe that transferred into their ghost form? Ghost-ness?
But why’s the ghost not been seen for about 10 years? That’s a good question. There’s definitely been a dropoff in the number of deaths and disappearances. The police say it’s better security everywhere, but no. I think it’s something to do with the Everwich Ghost. There’s been less weird activity recently. It’s confusing, because if Charles kept being seen, people wouldn’t just- Stop seeing them? Unless it's to do with everyone staring at their phones. Ugh, I come up with an answer, and it just raises more questions.
[A pause]
I think I’ll ask Rin about her grandfather. See if he’s got any information. I feel like I’m so close, yet so far. I’ve said it before, but I really do feel like the entire town is against me! I’ll discover something important, then it transpires that all the information I need to collect next got burnt the day before in a stupid fire!
I’m going to keep carrying this recorder around with me, so I can talk into it at any moment. I’m determined to find the answers. I will!
Oh, I’ve had an idea.
[Click]
[Radio static for a moment]
[Click]
[Sounds of Outside – people talking, birds, footsteps]
Hello, this is Callie Hewitt in the graveyard. I went to see the Florences’ graves. I can’t remember if I mentioned it before, but the Florences’ bodies lie in the graveyard. I’ve spoken to the caretaker before, he showed me the records of all of them being buried, at the same time. Except, there’s no record of Charles body being buried. It just explains that this is a cenotaph – a grave without a body. Which is. Interesting. Also, the grave is broken in two. While Kitty’s, for instance, reads:
‘Here lies Kitty Florence, 18- [radio static covers the date] to 18- [radio static covers the date], daughter of Henry and Esther Florence. Beloved by her friends, and family. A beautiful sister, daughter, and friend. May her body rest in peace.’
Charles’ reads:
    ‘-Friends, and family. A handsome-. May his body re-.’
The top half is missing. Here you go, Charles, here’s a flower. I don’t think you ever got many.
[Click]
[Radio static]
[Click]
I’m back in my bedroom now, this has been a Secret of Everwich thanks for listening!
[Click]
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