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wongyuuu · 3 months

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midnight rain | lsm

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

Letter #1

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it was trauma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I just…"

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

Letter #2

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

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

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

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

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

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

He had no idea.

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

"What? You’re leaving today?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #3

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s really you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you recommend?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

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

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

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your question?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #5

Seokmin

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

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

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

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

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

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

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

What am I still doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You never quite managed to do that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To hell with his plan.

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

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

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

“Seokmin, I…”

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled over your skin.

“At least this hasn’t changed”

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

“Where’s your room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Seokmin... harder"

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

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

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

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

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

Letter #6

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

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

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

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

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

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

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me give you a ride”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

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starkwlkr · 8 months

Note

one where charles gets jealous of uncle pierre because ruby talks all the time that she admires and loves him so much, i think you get the point lol

she love me she loves me not | charles leclerc

“Uncle Pierre can do more push ups!”

“Uncle Pierre knows how to cook pasta!”

“Uncle Pierre let me drive his car!”

Uncle Pierre. That’s all Charles heard whenever Ruby was around. Pierre this, Pierre that. There wasn’t a day that Pierre’s name wasn’t mentioned in the Leclerc household.

It was a normal night for the Leclerc’s. The family was together before Charles and Arthur had to go back to the race track. Mathéo and Ruby were jumping on the trampoline while the family made dinner in the kitchen.

“Did Ruby tell you she wants to go to the next race?” Y/n asked Charles as she took several plates from the cabinets.

“No she hasn’t. When did she tell you this?” Charles wondered.

“Uhh, I think two weeks ago? I was talking with Kika on the phone and Pierre was there too—”

There it was again. Pierre. He loves his friend, don’t get him wrong, but the constant mention of the frenchman definitely made Charles start thinking bad about himself. Even his own daughter talked more about Uncle Pierre than Papa Charles. Was there something wrong with him? There had to be if Ruby always talked about Pierre.

“Honey? Charles? Are you okay?” Y/n asked when she noticed that Charles wasn’t listening to her.

“Yeah, yeah, next race she’ll be there. I’ll tell Fred that Ruby’s coming.” Charles cleared his throat.

“Actually she told me she wants to go in the Alpine garage with Pierre. That’s why I was going to ask you if it was okay with you before you zoned out. . .”

Great.

“Is that what she wants? Is she sure? Maybe she should stay in the Ferrari garage, Joris is going to be there so she won’t be alone. And I take great care of her so why does she want to be in the Alpine garage? I’m her papa, she love me, right?” Charles rambled on as he aggressively chopped vegetables.

“Charles, look at me. And please put down the knife.” Y/n sighed.

“Am I doing something wrong?” Charles finally asked.

“What?”

“Am I doing something wrong? I mean Ruby always has something to say about Pierre . . How he cooks better than me, he tells better jokes, I just . . . I just get this feeling that Pierre is doing something that I’m not that Ruby is the only one who notices. It’s always Uncle Pierre.”

“Charles, she’s your daughter, of course she loves you.” Y/n assured him.

“But does she like me?” He asked.

“What?”

“Does Ruby like me? I just . . Maybe she doesn’t like me, maybe she likes Pierre better, maybe I’m not a good papa to her.” Charles went on.

“I know Ruby talks about Pierre a lot, but she also talks nonstop about her papa. I’ll talk to her tonight,” Y/n replied. “You’re a great father to our babies, Charles. Don’t ever doubt yourself. The kids and I love and like you.”

“She can go to the Alpine garage next race if that is what she wants. I don’t mind,”Charles sighed. Weeks ago, Pierre had told Charles that he missed Ruby and how he had some presents for her. “I’ll have Théo and you in my corner.”

“Sweetheart, you’re the best papa in the whole damn world. We’ll always be with you.”

#inbox <3 #anon #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc imagine

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goldessia · 22 days

Text

RUINED REPUTATION — k. bkg x assistant reader

sum. katsuki bakugo is the #1 professional hero. because of this, he built an agency, and wound up hiring an assistant to help him with publicity and to do majority of his paperwork for him... something he didn’t expect was for that assistant to be so damn attractive.

warnings. smut, mdni! power imbalance (implied), slight degration, risky / quickie, scandal, sort of slowburn, reader had a small quirk (can manipulate small doses of water), intoxication, smut in later parts.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (wip)

a/n. ty to @cafekitsune for the borders / dividers!

“YOU do know the risks, right?” my room-mate, mina, says, “i mean, i went to school with bakugo. he’s not a very.. nice person, and publicly placing yourself as his assistant could make you a target.”

i nod. “i know that.” i say, stuffing some things into my purse, “but i need this job. i love you, mina, but right now we kind of need the extra income. we’re not getting much with your job.”

she groans in frustration, “i know! but, all the villains lately just aren’t compatible with my quirk, so i’ve been leaving it to the others..” she sighs, rubbing her face.

“yeah, i know.” i say, slinging my purse over my shoulder, “it’ll just be temporary until you get back on your roll.”

“more like temporary because dynamight’ll kill you before that.” she snorts.

picking up my keys, i scoff, “i’m sure he’s not that bad. maybe he’s just a stressed out person!”

“sure. just come home in one piece, alright?” she chuckles, taking a sip of her cold coffee.

i roll my eyes and step out the door, finding my car and opening my phone for the directions to the agency.

the agency was easy enough to find — right in the middle of town with a sign in bright, orange colours: “the dynamight agency”.

i guess when you’re the #1 hero you don’t have to be scared to be found. in fact, looking at the giant building, i suspect he wants to be found; to be challenged, and to show them why he has the title of number one hero.

..and i also suspect this guy needs a serious ego check.

but i couldn’t lie and say i didn’t feel nervous. anxiety rushed through me, daring to glue me to this spot and not enter the building.

despite this, i walk through the front doors accidentally pushing a pull door and make my way to the front-desk where a pretty woman sits with two body guards beside her.

“hi,” i whisper, “i’m uh, here for the interview.. for the assistant?”

“oh! yes, you’re right on time.” she smiles, clicking a few buttons on her keyboard, “you’ll have to take the elevator up to the fiftieth floor, and in room A3.

“you’ll find a few of dynamight’s personnel as well as himself. he insisted on being there.. considering if you’re accepted you’ll be seeing a lot of eachother for a long while.”

my heart skips a beat.

“dynamight’s.. gonna be there?” i say, my eyes widening.

the lady hums, nodding her head like it was something normal to sit and have a talk with the number one hero.

i gulp, but mutter a, “thank you,” walking toward the elevators while clutching my purse with clammy hands.

pressing the button to the fiftieth floor, i feel anxiety rush through me. who was i thinking, applying for this job? i can’t handle being the assistant to dynamight!

i groaned, slapping my forehead as the reality finally set in.

i should’ve just listened to mina, and applied for some desk job or something. i figured, why not go above and beyond?

i’m so stupid!

ding!

the elevator doors open, and about a gazillion people rush into the elevator muttering nonsense to eachother or into their phones. majority held a briefcase — some are just holding loose papers, clutching onto them like their life depends on it.

i’m suddenly pushed to the back, and i try to mutter a few “excuse me”s, but to no avail — none of them could hear me, too zoned out in their own realities to care.

i was trapped.

suddenly i hear an explosion. a minor one, but undeniable.

my heart skips out of my chest. was there a villian? i’m in an elevator with fifteen people! i’m so dead. what was i thinking?!

“WHERE IS THAT DAMN ASSISTANT?” a voice screams, becoming louder by the second. “she’s late!”

“i’m sorry, dynamight, but it’s only been two minut-“

“SHUT UP! i didn’t ask you.” dynamight’s voice is now clearly in-front of us.

and then, i see him.

he’s tall, menacing — still in his hero costume that i recognize seeing on television when i was a teenager, just a little changed up.

the look on his face was undeniable. red, hot anger spilled from his aura as his eyes scanned the group of frightened workers, all frozen in place and have halted their calls and conversations.

i feel myself freeze when his eyes glaze over me, before halting. his eyes narrow, before he lifts a hand and points.

“you.” he says. “‘cmere, will ya?”

everyone’s eyes flick to me. i gulp, before nodding and slowly trying to make my way through the crowd.

“well, move out her damn way then!” dynamight hisses, and suddenly i see a path in front of me where there used to be people.

i take a deep breath, and with newfound confidence i walk forward, never breaking my eyes from his as i find myself beside him.

he snorts.

turning on his heel, he begins walking. hesitantly, i start walking beside him. he gives me a quick glare, expecting me to dip behind him but i don’t.

like i said before: he needs an ego check, and this is it.

he scoffs. “so, you’re my new assistant, or whatever?” he says, looking ahead again.

“well, i haven’t done the interview yet. so, maybe?” i say, masking my nervousness by remaining cold still except for my legs that are struggling to keep up with the hero’s pace.

he tuts. “fuck that. you’re hired, from here on out.”

then, he stops. he stands in-front of me, and it suddenly hits me how much taller he is, as he towers over me quite easily.

“which means you’ll do as i say when i say it. you work seven days a week, doing all my boring work i don’t want to do. got it?”

“seven?” my brows furrowed, “the agency said five—“

“yeah, well i say seven.” he spits, before pushing open a door. “this is your office. i’m across the hall.

“you’ll come when i call you. you’ll be dealing with all of my publicity shit as well.”

i shift on my feet. “yes, uh… sir?” i test, cringing at my own words.

his brows furrow, and his chin tips up. “good.” he says, before turning on his heel, “my manager will send you a list of things to do. get working on it.”

with that, he walks away.

my first interaction with my new boss, dynamight, couldn’t have gone any worse.

after the first few weeks, i was spent. i’d never run around so much and dealt with such work since my first year in college.

after a long day in the office, dealing with one of dynamight’s scandals—he had hooked up with another pro hero—i finally was able to go home. it was 5:30, which meant i was already in overtime.

packing up my stuff, i push open the glass door that is my office. music played through my earphones, just a simple playlist that consisted of my favourite songs i grew up on.

“y/n.”

i hum along to the tune, scrolling on my phone as i walked toward the elevator.

“y/n?”

a notification popped up; mina had texted me asking to swing by a grocery store to pick up something for dinner.

as i begun typing a reply, i was quickly stopped when i felt a hand roughly grab my shoulder and turn me around.

my heart stops in my chest as dynamight glares over me, before ripping out my earphone and scoffing.

“i called you fifty times. next time, you’ll listen, alright?” he spits.

“you were— huh?” my brows furrow.

“fuck, are you deaf, or something?!” he stops himself, rubbing his eyes before inhaling a deep breath, “a word. in my office.”

he starts walking to his office, before i speak. “sir, i— i’m already in overtime as it is. respectfully, with your recent.. scandal, i haven’t gotten much time to rest. this is my one time to.”

his steps slowly halt. he turns, glaring with those ruby eyes straight into my soul.

“in my office, y/n. now.” he seethes, “the amount of rest you get isn’t my concern.”

maybe i would’ve gotten more rest if you learned to just keep it in your pants, i think but i do not say.

“you got a problem with my orders?” he stares, testing me, trying to provoke me.

i stare back. with a sharp inhale, i mutter a—“no, sir.” while beginning on my already aching feet.

i hear another notification on my phone.

mina

girl, where are you!! foods gonna get cold

taking a quick look to dynamight, i try to quickly type back.

i know, sorry, will be there shortly

mr. explosion murder is mad at me 😬

mina

oh damn

praying 4 u girl

“texting your boyfriend?” dynamight scoffs, to which i quickly put my phone away.

“oh uh— no, sir.” i clear my throat.

he looks ahead and murmurs a, “good.”

“what?”

he opens the door to his office with such force i jump, the door nearly grazing my nose. he stands in-front of it, gesturing for me to enter.

when he does, he closes the door behind him.

i try to mask my nervousness, but it’s nearly impossible—who wouldn’t be nervous to be alone in a room with dynamight?

“what’d you want to talk to me about, sir?” i ask, fixing the glasses on my nose— just a small prescription, mostly for looks since i thought they were cute.

he stalks toward the chair tucked neatly into the desk in the middle of the room. sitting on it, he gestures for me to sit as well.

hesitantly, i do, folding my hands neatly in my lap.

“the board wanted me to discuss something with you,” dynamight states, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands on his open thighs.

oh gods. what is so big that the board wanted dynamight himself to talk to me alone about? was i being fired? was my work not good enough? was —

“your clothing.” he states, “you need to dress more formally.” he looks me over, eyes gesturing to the jeans and tank-top i had on.

i blink. “you.. you pulled me in here just to talk about what i wear?”

he runs a hand over his chin, inhaling. he has a slight stubble along his jaw and neck; the result of overworking himself the past few days.

lately, i’ve noticed a spike in his working hours, working longer than he usually does and longer than he needs to.

the biggest question is: why do i feel like i need to care for dynamight?

“not necessarily.” he states, leaning forward, “i’m going across tokyo for a mission. i want you to come with me.”

“what?” my brows furrow, “why?”

he sighs, “because.. i haven’t been out outside of work since my scandal, let alone talked to the press. i need you there to handle that shit for me so i can do my job.”

i ponder with his words, “..okay. well, i’d have to check with—“

“it’s not a question. it’s your job,” dynamight’s voice suddenly turns harsh, “we’re leaving tomorrow morning. i’ll pick you up by seven.”

“but you don’t know where i—“

“i know where you live.” he says, standing, peering me over when he sees i’m confused, “it’s in your work file.” he adds.

“oh. right.” i sigh in relief, thankful he wasn’t some stalker who found out where i lived by following me home.

wait, why would he even do that in the first place? whatever..

the door opens, and i turn to see dynamight standing irritably beside it. catching up on context clues, i grab my things and rush out the room.

that is, before i’m stopped by a hand on my shoulder. he leans closer, glaring ahead of him. i can feel the heat emitting from his hand, his body, and i freeze beneath his aura.

“and y/n?” he says, “if you’re going to wear that shirt.. wear a fucking bra next time.” he seethes.

practically pushing me out the room, i feel the door slam behind me.

i feel my face flush as i peer down to my shirt — i thought i could get away without wearing one today but i guess i was wrong.

fuck. how embarrassing was that?!

mina:

u alive?

me:

FML!!!

after i had gotten home, i told mina everything. needless to say, she was shocked — “seriously? travelling across the country with bakugo?”

“yeah. and for a week!”

“oh, you’re so done for.” she snorts, “i could barely handle a few hours with that kid back in highschool, let alone be with him all day long.”

i sigh, taking a sip of my water, placing it on the counter as i jump up to sit on it.

“he’s not.. that bad.” i cringe at my own words, “just a little misunderstood.”

“oh, please.”

“serious!” i cry, taking a bite of my donut, “i mean, he is an asshole, but working alongside him isn’t so bad.

“plus, majority of time he’ll just be ripping up some villains. all i get is some sweet vacation.” i shrug.

mina spares me a look, “are you sure you don’t have some sort of crush on him, or something?”

i gasp. a harsh blush finds my cheeks, and i want to crumble in on myself. “what? no!” my voice cracks as i am quick to defend myself.

she snorts. “you’re only ever like this when you have a crush!”

“am not.” i say, hiding my face from her.

“you’re blushinggg..” she teases, “you so have a crush on him!

groaning, i jump off the counter and make my way to the couch instead of the kitchen.

“don’t try and hide it!” mina calls from the kitchen. i roll my eyes and ignore her, flicking on the television.

the news was on.

the lady on the screen speaks, “number one hero, dynamight, was seen only two days ago with a top-ten hero. rumours have speculated about the two — are they dating, or was it just a fling? here’s what we think…”

i groan. another mention of this stupid scandal was gonna make my head explode.

the press didn’t know who it was he had slept with, but i did — it was double trouble, a hero with a doubled voice quirk that could control others bodies.

i always thought she was cool. standing at fourth place, she was a well known pro-hero in the area.

and also known to be happily married with two kids.

so why, on earth, did dynamight have to sleep with her? he had to be stupid to, she was pretty, but he really needed to get better with his publicity skills.

being the cause of an affair wasn’t getting better at it.

and if any information got out of it being double trouble, he’d not only have ruined his reputation but ruined double troubles life.

so, i spent the last week making sure every last bit of this scandal was wrapped up and sealed away. everything on the internet, security cameras, was wiped out of the world.

turning on one of my favourite shows, i set down my phone and get comfortable on the couch.

finally, i could relax.

and slowly, but surely, i fall into a slumber.

nearly an hour later, i hear a knock at the door. i groan, annoyed my sleep was disrupted and even more annoyed someone decided to knock on my door at midnight.

“can’t i just get one night of peace?” i mumble to myself as i push myself off the couch, fixing the tank-top strap on my shoulder.

walking to the door, i run a hand through my hair to attempt to tame the wild mess caused by sleep.

i open it, the door creaking as i did, peeking my head out the door. and…

i see no other thank katsuki bakugo, better known as dynamight.

he’s clutching the side of his torso, clutching the doorframe as he attempts to keep himself up.

he looks up, cheeks flushed, wearing casual wear — well, casual until you see the giant blood stain ruining his white tee shirt.

“i.. i didn’t know where else to go.”

#katsuki mha #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha #my hero academia #mha x reader #mdni

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alixra · 3 months

Text

away game | paige bueckers

summary- paige is away at a game and calls you.

word count- 1.1k

UConn had just beat Maryland. A much-needed win after a tough loss against NC State.

You hardly knew anything about basketball. But you had found interest in the sport after falling in love with one of its biggest stars: Paige Bueckers. You had been dating her for roughly seven months. And you couldn't be happier.

Her schedule did make things difficult. She almost always had to be on the road for an away game. And if she wasn't, she was either at practice or working out. The two of you found ways to make it work. No matter how much you missed each other.

It had been two hours since the game ended. And you were awaiting a call from Paige. It had become a routine for her to call you every night when she was away. Even if it was for a short period.

Your phone began ringing, and you tried not to squeal in excitement.

"Hi, baby," Paige said as soon as you answered.

"Hi," you said through a smile. "How did your game go?"

"Good, I'm tired."

"You should be. You did amazing," you stated.

Paige's heart fluttered at your praise, "Thank you."

"Of course." You replied, comfortable silence taking over the phone call.

"What are you doing?" Paige asked, breaking the quiet.

"Homework," you groaned, causing her to laugh. "Where are the girls?"

"Oh, they went out. I'm the only one still here."

"Why didn't you go with them?" You questioned.

"I didn't feel like it," she explained. "I had something else on my mind anyway."

"Like what?"

"You," she smiled.

You giggled, glad that she couldn't see the blush on your face. "Oh really?"

"Mmhhmm," she responded proudly.

"I was thinking about you too."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you whispered, lying on your back.

The atmosphere shifted, going from lighthearted to intense in mere seconds.

"I wanna hear your voice," Paige confessed, her hand resting on her stomach.

"Ok," you smiled. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me how good I did again."

Your grin widened, "You did so good. And you're so amazing and so perfect. And so hot."

Paige smirked, focusing on the last part of your sentence. "I'm so what?" She teased.

"So hot," you repeated, your voice serious compared to her playful one.

Paige cleared her throat, her hand getting close to her pants. "Thank you," she said, her voice huskier than before.

It was silent for a little before you spoke, "Paige."

"Yeah?"

"What's the real reason you didn't go out?" You inquired, knowing it wasn't like the party animal to not want to go out and get wasted.

"You know me too well," she smiled.

"I do," you responded, smirking triumphantly. "Now answer my question," you said firmly, noticing Paige was trying to get you off-topic.

Paige licked her lips, "Because I wish you were here."

"To do what?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but her words stuck in her throat.

"Come on, Paige. You can tell me."

"I just missed you," she replied stubbornly, slipping her hand underneath her sweatpants.

"Oh yeah?" You asked, picking up on the way her breath hitched out of nowhere.

"Yeah," she responded. Trying to control her shaky breath as she rubbed her clit through her soaked underwear.

"Liar," you stated.

"How am I a liar?" She replied, keeping up the innocent act.

"Because I know what you're doing right now."

She had now moved past her underwear, her fingers inching closer to her aching entrance. "What am I doing then?"

You smiled, taking your bottom lip in your teeth, "Touching yourself."

She chuckled breathily, "You caught me."

"I did," you replied. Your stomach tightened as you thought about Paige touching herself to your voice.

"Keep talking," she struggled to say, not trying to hide the quiver in her voice anymore.

"Why?" You asked, even though you knew what she wanted.

"Just- please," she whined. The faint sound of her fingering herself is prominent in your hearing.

"Do you do this a lot?" You questioned, giving in to her request.

"Only when you're not around," she responded.

"What do you think about?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

Her breathing was getting heavier now, "You."

"Why?" You inquired, enjoying making her say what you already knew out loud.

She huffed, "You know why."

"No, I don't," you lied, "Tell me.”

"Because you're pretty and hot," she practically whined. "And you have such an amazing body."

"I do?"

"Yes!" She responded, her tone more amped up now.

You couldn't help the way your hand drifted downwards. The throbbing between your legs is too intense to ignore.

"You close, baby?" You asked, now touching yourself too.

"Yeah," she moaned.

You sat your phone down on the bed, right beside your ear. "Hold on a little longer," you instructed.

You moved your hand from your clit to your dripping slit. Too impatient to wait any longer, you slipped two of your fingers inside yourself. Imagining that they were Paige's instead.You let the sounds she made bring you closer and closer to the edge. A few moans escape from your lips as well.

"Fuck," she murmured, aware of what you were doing.

"I love you," you exhaled.

"I love you too," she said, her voice strained.

You slid your fingers in and out of yourself, using your thumb to rub your clit.

She inhaled sharply before speaking again, "I'm gonna cum."

"Me too," you agreed, gritting your teeth.

Paige let out a long groan, finishing. Meanwhile, your orgasm was quickly approaching. You let the sounds of her riding out her high tip you over the edge, a string of curse words falling from your swollen lips. It wasn't one of the best orgasms you've had. But the mere idea of Paige made it enjoyable.

Silence rang throughout your ears as you let out a satisfied sigh. The only sound coming from your phone is your girlfriend's heavy breathing. Several minutes passed, the two of you simply listening to each other breathe.

"Y/n," Paige whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I was just making sure you were still there," she said, and you could tell she was smiling.

You laughed, "I'm here."

"Don't leave," she pleaded.

"I won't.”

"Thank you."

"Anytime," you responded.

Either way, you loved falling asleep on the phone with Paige. You loved the adorable sound of her breathing and how comforting her presence was. Even if she wasn't physically with you, you felt safe and secure.

"Goodnight, beautiful," she murmured, already half asleep.

Butterflies swarmed your stomach, "Goodnight, even more beautiful."

She laughed softly before submitting to sleep. You rolled over on your back, squirming around as you got comfortable. You relished in the warmth and coziness of your bed, thinking about how lucky you were to have your girlfriend.Your eyes felt heavy, and you yawned as you fell asleep, wishing that Paige was next to you.

#paige bueckers #uconn #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #wbb #wcbb #women’s basketball #women’s college basketball #wlw #wlwsmut #smut #wlw ns/fw #ns/fw #established relationship #relationship #Spotify

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eamour · 8 months

Text

a method guide ⋮ 1 ⋮

there are so so so many methods you could make use of when manifesting … at times, it can really be challenging to maintain an overview of it all — which is why i made this guide for you! here, i want you to be able to find a method that aligns with you and your personality the most.

which method suits you ?

affirming ✿ you like to talk but also think a lot. affirming can be done in several ways, some like to complain about how well everything is, some sing about how lovey dovey their lives are and some just repeat affirmations robotically in their minds whenever they have the time or aren’t really occupied with anything. you like to make use of your free time and like to use as much time as possible to declare — but also to remind yourself! — that you have whatever you want. most effective for people that tend to overthink, get doubts frequently, forget about their desires and remain persistent in the old story.

visualising ✿ you are good at imagining things. you are creative and have fun creating scenes in your mind. you probably enjoy daydreaming and may also zone out sometimes throughout the day and get lost in your own imaginative world. most effective for people that replay unfavourable things that have happened in the 3D, tend to get lost imagining old circumstances or prefer to visualise desired scenarios rather than affirming.

askfirming ✿ you question many things. you are either a very curious person or ask yourself why things are the way they are in a rather comedic manner (or you like to complain a lot). again, you also think or talk a lot, similar to the people who like affirming, especially as askfirming is just another way of affirming. most effective for people that often end up asking themselves why nothing seems to work for them or struggle declaring that they already have their desires.

accepting ✿ you manifest the best way by just declaring that you have your desire once and then move on with your day. you have a clear mindset and have an easy time cutting out unwanted and negative thoughts as you don’t easily give in. most effective for people that have overconsumed or done many methods in the past to force a change in the 3D. info: accepting is something we all do, it’s not the method itself. the method here is called "affirming only once".

scripting ✿ you like to write. you like to predict things as it makes you (quite literally) feel like the author of your life. you like to determine your own fate and destiny. you also enjoy the process of writing. it could be analogous with a pen and a notebook or digitally on your phone, tablet or laptop. you also enjoy going into detail, making sure that everything goes according to your plan, but also like the satisfaction of "getting something done". most effective for people that like to be more specific about their desires (rather than using umbrella affirmations) and cannot repeat affirmations without wanting to write them down.

decreeing ✿ you like to command things. you have zero chill. you want something? you will make sure to get it. you have no time for bs and go straight to the point and remain faithful to your subconscious mind. you are quick and like to make manifesting as effortless as possible. most effective for people that get tired of affirming for too long or don’t want to put in any physical effort to make themselves feel fulfilled.

remember.

you can do any method, even if these descriptions don’t resonate with you. the reason i prepared this post is to guide people to a way of manifesting that resonates with them the most and also feels the most natural for them. because that‘s what manifesting is about! rising to the naturalness of consciousness of having or being the thing desired. and in order to do that, you shall feel natural about it. it’s up to you which method you want to try! if i was you, i would try each one and see which one (or how many) of them fulfill me the most. ♡

with love, ella.

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absolutebl · 10 months

Note

Genuine Question: Given how much people hate problematic topics in BL eg: kp, mame, love syndrome, etc. why is everyone so damn excited about Only Friends? Like we know nothing about the show. It's GMMTV so how sexy is it going to get? you know, like it's GMMTV. I like the cast as much as anyone and particularly FirstKhao but I don't see this 'sexiness' everyone is going so crazy over? Is it some bts thing like I know the director is jojo and he's gay. Is that why everyone so excited? Is it because we just haven't gotten anything really brilliant this year that gets the whole BL fandom together and that's why people are hoping this will, is that what's going on? I like everyone involved well enough but 'sexy', 'crazy', 'problematic', 'high heat'... I don't get it.

Only Friends & Jojo

Genuine answer.

Okay so this question got me invested enough to get off the phone, over to the laptop, and onto hotel wifi, which means typos rather than dictation homophones, but there it is.

I guess what I am saying it...

mistakes will be made

From the tenor of your question methinks you have not watched Friend Zone? It's a 2 part series. Mostly messy hets but...

Also a TON of broad spectrum queer rep (lesbian, bi, ace, demi). Real queers, not sanitized for straight consumption.

Because yeah, GMMTV will get messy and go into higher heat levels in a late night way (not in a KP way).

But actually what has most people excited about Only Friends is it being sourced in this man:

Jojo Tichakorn Phukhaotong

Jojo is a screenwriter (originals) and director, openly gay, multifaceted and a little experimental, naturally talented (on the job trained - he's an archaeologist originally), and he is behind:

The Warp Effect, Friend Zone and MOST importantly (IMHO)...

3 Will Be Free

There are others too, but for the purposes of this post, those are the 3 that count. I think of him a little as the GMMTV director version of Ohm's acting.

Jojo specializes in:

ensemble pieces,

good chemistry (NOT necessarily high heat, so by this I mean actor chemistry with each other all around - couples, cast, team, production)

working with and finding actors within GMMTV's stable who work well together (even if that means busting up a pair),

a queer lens,

queer rep,

and often very messy story (as in he is not invested in the traditional beats of a romance, let alone a BL).

AND he can shoot action (this is a specific skill set for directors and it's NOT easy),

thus he will shoot his sex/intimacy & COMEDY scenes as if they WERE action sequences.

This makes his stuff particularly exciting to watch. It's dynamic, there's a lot of movement, the eye is caught and dragged places. He doesn't use dirty/peekaboo framing or central aperture or manga style (not with INTENT the way trained directors do). In fact he does none of those things I harp on about because I like the romance stuff.

He's not being clever with us. He's being honest, but still applying skill. His stuff not quite raw, but also not really directed. You can tell he gives his actors a script, throws them together and then instructs them to just BE THOSE CHARACTERS. He has a light touch, he trusts them. He's not fussy or nit-picky. He's not doing a million takes to get that sene exactly how he envisions it. His ensemble pieces are just that, group projects.

His eye is wide, even for intimacy, by which I mean: he controls and watches for multiple actors at once when there are a lot of them on screen together, without them feeling stiff.

His style is quite organic but not too gritty.

Struggling to understand what I mean?

For example, watch a Jojo "group of friends chatting" scene where everyone is just standing around then watch the same thing in, say, SCOY. You'll see what I mean. SCOY is also a very queer ensemble piece, but it will feel quite stiff, unnatural, and "planned" (staged) by comparison.

For the giffers out there you might notice that Jojo's stuff is particularly difficult to gif cleanly? This is why.

I find him an exciting director. I didn't cover him in my directors overview because at the time he hadn't done much BL (and frankly, he still hasn't). It's not his focus.

I think Only Friends is actually not likely to be very BL. Queer = yes, BL = NO. He won't hit the tropes and there is no reason to assume it will end happily for all couples (if any). That's not Jojo's point of view.

He doesn't play our game. As a result, some of those excited by the idea of this show (or excited the general enthusiasm & anticipation around it), may be doomed to disappointment.

It's one of the reasons you don't see me getting excited about it.

I'm a fan of specifically the fluffy side of BL, this will NOT be that. And I can appreciate a director without necessarily liking the stories he tells.

I am industry enough to acknowledge Jojo's skill (and I LOVE 3 Will Be Free - just not as a BL), but I don't always like his narratives. No matter how good he is, his stuff is not why I personally watch Thai BL.

It's GMMTV, so how sexy is it going to get?

Again, see Friend Zone. GMMTV has a late night pantheon, mostly for het, but they will get salacious. Lots of cheating and terrible decisions. There will be no archetypes. Characters will exist in grey areas, even the "good" characters. There will be no paladins in this show. No seme/uke.

To answer this frankly?

Only Friends will get soap opera or telenovella sexy but no more. So we will be in Midnight Chicken territory, not Bed Friends.

I think the words being bandied about:

'sexy', 'crazy', 'problematic', 'high heat'

are used here on tumblr (and in fandom) as an attempt to articulate expectations set up by Jojo's style.

Most viewers only react emotionally to the tenor of a director with this set of skills. That's fine, that's what the production company wants: A visceral emotional reaction.

But I hope I've managed to clarify from a film-critic perspective what's bringing this sensation about?

But ALSO seeing a bunch of, essentially, lower heat pure BL pairs, have to push themselves into messy queer spaces? (Notice GMMTV only let the more established actors into this one? No JoongDunk, no GeminiFourth)

This is probably really what everyone is excited about.

They are gonna see their favorites cheat, sleep around, be gay (not BL gay, but actual gay). Some are legitimately excited about this, some are shipper excited, and the BL-stans who don't know Jojo are doomed to disappointment.

I'm mostly excited by how messy this is gonna make the fandom.

Su su na.

(source)

#only friends the series #forthcoming bl #watch ABL eat crow #bl director #bl film ciritc #bl analysis #industry insider #messy gay #bl fandom #upcoming bl #2023 bl #khaotung thanawat #firstkhao #GMMTV #friend zone 2 #3 Will Be Free #The Warp Effect #Jojo Tichakorn Phukhaotong

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songmingisthighs · 7 months

Text

Heaven's Haven

group : ateez

pairing : jongho × reader

genre : smut, romance

wc : 3.6 k

warning : explicit smut; oral (f receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex (ykw if you're financially ready for a kid and is no longer obsessed with supposed time travelling pirates, go for it), pwp ?, softer sex with a lot of description bc... it's jongho, have you looked at him? lmk what i missed

a/n : to those of you who encouraged me to give into my impulses, you'll be hearing from my lawyer. it's san. san is my lawyer. btw happy haribo day !!

a/a/n : at this point let's just agree that smt overdoes shit

buy me coffee ?

Every night you were reminded of how hardworking your boyfriend is. Most days you're proud of him while some days you were just worried. While he's not a workaholic with a hyperactive artistic brain like his captain, Kim Hongjoong, Jongho works when he's not even working. His whole life revolves around being a singer and a performer; his diet, his aversion to certain foods, and his workout regime. Frankly, the only thing that could stop him was when he went through surgery for his legs. While fans were disappointed when he couldn't join the tour, it was the best month of your life. You love taking care of him because he has been taking such good care of you. Which was why you designated his room as a no-outside-life zone. You made it your duty to rid Jongho of his responsibilities when he's in his room. Also his pants.

So coming into his room to find him sitting on his bed still clad in a suit after an interview he did, texting away on his phone, was not really surprising. You simply closed the door, put your bag down near it, and walked over to your boyfriend who was staring at his phone screen with his bottom lip jutted out adorably. "Jjongie, baby," you called out, barely getting a reaction out of him save for a low hum. You slot yourself between his legs while pushing his half-gelled back hair out of his face, can't stop smiling at your adorably sexy boyfriend, "You need to get out of these clothes, you've been in it the whole day and we need to get your cute butt into bed," you cooed, using the voice you would usually use on little children. "No need baby, I had dinner already," he replied, head tilting at his phone screen, way too preoccupied with whatever it is he was doing.

You wanted to get him to relax but knowing your boyfriend, you first need to detach him from whatever it is taking his attention. So you began your attempts. Rather pathetically because even with eyes glued to his phone, Jongho managed to evade your hands catching the device and even foiling your fake easily. Huffing and puffing, you were determined but so was Jongho. Had he ever given you any reason to suspect infidelity, you would've been very mad for a whole different reason.

After a solid 5 minutes of failed attempts, you detached yourself from your boyfriend with a glare, cursing him and his entire coming bloodline (that you may or may not consider being involved in) for being... Well, him. At this point, he must've known what you were doing right? "Jongho," you called out but were met with silence, "Choi Jongho," you tried again but no luck.

In a desperate attempt, you decided to take some drastic measures that might or might not work, depending on Jongho's mood. You shimmied out of your pants quietly, leaving your panties on purposefully in case your plan failed yet again. You were attempting to give Jongho a pouncing as the element of surprise might give you an upper hand. Boy, you never realized how much planning goes into this part of the relationship. And by 'this', you absolutely mean taking care of a grown adult.

Without further ado, you walked back over to your boyfriend who seemed like he had no plans of letting his phone go and jumped right into action. Jongho yelped slightly when he felt his left shoulder pushed down out of nowhere and when he looked up, he realized that you had used your leg to maneuver him into lying down on his back and plopping down on his chest. The look in his eyes was rather priceless and it took everything in you to not celebrate your half success just yet. Instead, you used your knees to hold his large shoulders in place as your shins pressed his wrists down, preventing him from moving. Or so you convinced yourself. You've seen him carry his members around like a sack of flour, you were sure that he could at least flip you over. Not that you would mind.

In his position, Jongho tried to break free (barely) but you only pressed him further to the point that he let his phone go. "Okay, hi?" he grinned cheekily, looking innocent as if your cunt wasn't a flimsy fabric away from being completely exposed whilst being at eye level with Jongho. "Hi?" pouting, you slapped him on his chest, "You have been ignoring me since I stepped into this room, Choi Jongho and I don't like it!" you complained. "Is that why you're rewarding me?" Jongho asked with an eyebrow raised in question. Your eyebrows furrowed, unsure at what he meant and just as you were about to ask him, you felt his body jolt up slightly which caused your ass to slide forward and your clothed cunt to make contact with Jongho's mouth, effectively causing you to freeze in shock. Your reaction then wasn't as bad as the next though because when you felt the vibration from Jongho humming into your cunt, you gasped and your thighs tensed. "Look at my baby trying to take care of me by giving me something so sweet," he said, the movement from his lips was so palpable on your nether ones that it made your breath catch in your throat, intensely heightening Jongho's effect on you. Just as you had taken Jongho's shock to your benefit, Jongho too took your hazed state to slip his hands from your hold. When you realized what he did, you whined in protest, not wanting him to push you off just yet. But much to your surprise, you found his left hand cupping your ass as the other found purchase on your inner thigh, his thumb gently caressing the bit of skin under the shirt you were wearing, just above your underwear line. The touch left you tingling, your spine shot up as if electricity shot through you straight from where Jongho's tongue was tasting you over your underwear.

"J-Jongho," you whimpered, wanting to say something that you yourself can't figure out, you weren't even sure you should be saying anything but you were sure that some form of response should be given. Jongho had managed to melt your brain with his kitten licks to your covered clit. He somehow managed to find it easily despite not being able to get a visual. Seems like he just knew you that well. Just to be a complete ass about it, Jongho hummed into your pussy again for good measure, causing you to let out a shuddered sigh and making your head drop back. Whatever it was you thought you needed to do when Jongho began to get his taste of you went out the window, you convinced yourself that teasing the fuck out of you count as a non-working activity because it truly was and he was doing such a good job. Your mind shattered when you felt his thumb move your panties to the side and you felt his talented tongue slither between your lower lips. "Fuck!" the sound you make felt perfect to Jongho, enough to drive him to take your pulsing clit between his teeth and lightly nibble on it. Pain isn't something that you always liked during sex with your previous partners. You had had some experiences but none of them resulted in you feeling that good. Sure, there was some pleasure, but not enough to make the pain worth it. But for some reason, with Jongho, the pain he gave during sex only heightened as pleasure. You love the edge it gave you, that bite he gives be it literally or figuratively.

Your boyfriend is someone who is always in control and when he does it, he does it so seamlessly that it wasn't even obvious that he had control. How you love the showcase of subtle prowess like how he was gripping your hips so tightly, making sure that you wouldn't be able to chase your high by riding his face, making sure that you were completely dependent on him, that you were in his mercy. "Jongho, more!" you moaned, groaning when Jongho let his blunt nails dig into the skin of your thigh possessively. You looked down to see Jongho raising an eyebrow from between your legs, "Look at you forgetting your manners after being given a little taste of pleasure," a rush of warmth rushed to your cheeks when you heard the teasing edge in Jongho's voice. Jongho wasn't one to be into degradation, he had drawn a certain line on the matter because, in his own words, he cared about you too much to put you down. So your shyness was based on the knowledge that he found you endearing, precious even when you were so affected by him. Unintentionally, your cunt clenched as his tongue grazed upon your opening.

In a flash, you were suddenly under Jongho. His face was still level with your cunt but he was now hovering above, looking at your dumbfounded expression with a satisfied look on his face. Jongho didn't try to hide his amused chuckle when he saw you pouting but he bit his bottom lip to stop himself from actually laughing as you reached to grab the lapels of his suit with both of your hands after managing to take off your own shirt and saliva-slicked panties.

"You need to lose at least one article of clothing. It's not fair," you muttered at him, trying to tug his clothes off despite the struggle due to your position. In his mind, Jongho had considered ignoring your request, wanting to tease you more or at least make you wait. But how can he do that when he knew you had his best interest in mind? Surely, it's also because you want to see his beefed build but he liked to believe that it was just your way of telling him that it's time for him to shed his responsibilities and just rest. So with a nod, Jongho pushed himself up slightly so he could take his suit jacket off and tossed it to the side haphazardly. "Better?" he asked but you immediately shook your head, "I swear, you better be as naked as the day you were born just as God intended or so help me I will find the strength to rip your shirt off of you," you huffed. It was obvious that you were getting impatient and despite your threat and the absolute seriousness in your voice, Jongho knew that you'd just ended up making him undress himself. You were so adorable in Jongho's eyes, he didn't know how you could be so whiny and bossy at the same time. It made his cock twitch in his pants.

Slowly, Jongho crawled up your body to pepper tiny butterfly kisses all over your face, distracting you from his undressing. "I'm sorry for not giving you attention right away, baby. I was too wrapped up in my work, wasn't I?" he softly asked against the skin of your cheek, making you whimper and try to bury your face in his shoulder. "That's okay, Jongho. I just worry about you," when Jongho pulled away slightly, you couldn't help but push the fallen hair from his forehead and cupped his face, "I love you so much," you smiled.

As soon as your profession of love slipped your lips, you felt something hard and heavy enter you. Jongho was halfway inside you when you gasped, hands dropping to claw at his arms that were holding himself up on your sides. Inch by inch Jongho nestled himself inside you as he watched how your face changed the more he pushed. At this point, Jongho's breathing had changed; he inhaled more sharply and exhaled longer, eyes clouded with lust as he paid you all the attention he could muster. He loved watching you unravel under him, it was his favourite thing to watch and he loved savouring each moment, taking in the way your eyes clamped shut and eyebrows furrowed that would usually be accompanied by whimpers that escaped your lips. It wasn't like you both jumped on each other's bones every night as you both considered sex to be a very intimate activity. But by no means do you not do it often nor do you schedule or even make an appointment for sex. What kind of a lunatic would have a calendar for coitus? No, Jongho loved the organic way you and he reacted to each other. When it's time, it's time and the spontaneity tends to egg his exhilaration.

"I'm sorry, (y/n)," he grinned cheekily once you seemed more relaxed, adapted to having him once again wholly inside you, "But you can't expect me to not do anything after you told me you love me." Looking over briefly, you noticed that Jongho managed to unbutton his shirt completely, showing you his beautiful chest and firm abdomen muscle paired with unbuttoned and unzipped pants shoved just a little bit past his cock so the appendage would be completely out. You simply pouted and clicked your tongue at him, "Not undressed and no warning, what kind of boyfriend are you, Choi Jongho?" Chuckling at your protest, Jongho ducked down again to brush his lips against yours, "The best kind, of course," once his lips melded with yours, your annoyance immediately melted, opting to wrap your arms around his neck loosely instead. "And I love you too," he added against your lips.

Jongho's hips begin rocking seconds later, setting a slow pace for him and you to enjoy. The arms that anchored his weight on the sides of your head soon moved; one was carefully cradling the back of your neck as the other slipped around your waist. The more Jongho rocked his hips, the closer you both became until eventually you were chest to chest. In the position you both were in, there was not much room for movement but God, when you slipped your hands under his shirt, the feeling of Jongho's warm skin directly on yours was wonderful. Not to sound like an absolute pervert, but you've always found Jongho to have the softest back. While people expected you to feel his muscles first (which are bulging, thick, and aesthetically pleasing), you shattered all expectations behind closed doors. Even Jongho was surprised when you mentioned the softness of the planes of his entire back. It became a habit for you to let your palm drag along the expanse, making Jongho shudder and allowing his muscles to tighten in desire. To add to that, when you buried your face in his shoulder, you could smell his natural musk. It's not sweat per se, it's just... Jongho. Maybe it was his Diptyque Do Son that clung to the fabric of his clothes mixed with pheromones wafting in the air that gave off a sweet floral scent that had an edge of sharpness to it, but he somehow smelled like home to you. If you could, you'd gladly drown in the scent and evaporate along with it when the time comes, refusing to part. To make things worse for you, the sounds Jongho made were just heavenly. While your past partners had ruined sex by saying stupid things like 'I will wreck you' and 'I'll make sure you're ruined for other men' and not delivering, Jongho was on the quieter side. He almost never moaned out loud, only letting out grunts and huffs and occasionally whimpers when he was needy. Maybe it was because he's a vocalist, a damn great one at that, but even the softest sounds he made gave off vibrations that travelled to you, sending your pupils shaking and stomach tightening. Especially like this, when you both were chest-to-chest, faces on each other's shoulders, the effect of the sounds Jongho made shot right through your cunt, making you clench over and over when the vibrations hit just right. You pity his fans who didn't get to feel what you felt.

Sex with Jongho is not just sex, it's not even just lovemaking where everything is romantic and meaningful. It's a whole experience that left you dizzy and craving for more yet you know that if you had too much of it, it would just drive you absolutely mad. While it isn't much of a conversation topic, you had spoken about your sex life with your friends and most (if not all) stated that it sounded rather vanilla and uneventful. But they don't know what kind of intensity sex with Jongho bring. It's not balls slapping, sweaty bodies sliding off of each other, and drool splattering everywhere as he made you squirt your release over and over again like the damn Bellagio Fountain. The experience was beyond words but you definitely felt vulnerably close to Jongho and you could feel him being so close to you too. Everything was laid bare for either to take. Figuratively and literally. Though the occasional crazy monkey sex filled with experiments and teasings still happened, on the norm, this was your heaven.

You wondered how Jongho hadn't lost his pace. Sure, his thrusts became more powerful as his drive was reignited, but the pace was steady yet not monotone. To add to your own pleasure, you lifted your legs slightly, casing Jongho's hips between your knees. The position allowed your hips to be more open to Jongho, letting your clit make direct contact with his pubic bone so each thrust he delivered came with your clit being rubbed just right. "Fuck!" you exclaimed, head burying deeper into Jongho's shoulder as your hands pressed down his back; from his large shoulders to the dip in the middle, and finally arriving on his exposed ass. You joked that he has an adorable tushy on a daily basis at random times, causing him to cover your mouth whilst blushing because he was embarrassed at how cavalier you were with his gluteal area. But when you showed appreciation to his ass during sex, it proved to make him confident, proud of himself and how hard he worked to have an ass deserving of appreciation by his lover. A confident Jongho is a sexy Jongho and a sexy Jongho always rocked your world in his own way.

Jongho absolutely loved this position as he felt so close to you. While it was a shame that he couldn't see you, the fact that he was able to feel all of you made up for it. From the way your knees tried to close in on his large frame and the way your hips rocked along with his, he knew you were close. His favourite feeling however was the feeling of your stomach muscle tightening under him because it made your back arch and your body to be pressed even closer to him (not that it was possible). Jongho could feel the coil building in your core, ready to be released with just the right persuasion.

"You can cum, I'll help you cum," he grunted into your ear as he allowed the hand that was cupping the back of your neck to somehow slip between your bodies. Your eyes shot open when Jongho simultaneously pulled your hips to meet his completely while his hand pressed to your lower stomach. Immediately, the tension intensified due to the added pressure, forcing a jolt out of your body. All over your body, your muscles tensed which caused you to cling onto Jongho desperately. "Jongho!" you whined accidentally, immediately biting down on Jongho's shoulder to muffle your sound once your coil finally snapped and you came hard. Jongho's eyes shut close at the pleasure of your cunt sucking him in with its grip as if preventing him to get away even just momentarily. Jongho kept thrusting to help you ride your high as he chased his own, movements a lot more fluid thanks to your release. Thanks to your spasming body that added tactile pleasure from skin-on-skin stimulation, Jongho was able to release inside you. Your eyes fluttered open slowly and your pupils dilated when you saw the muscles of Jongho's entire backside tense as he came and even more so, his ass. The sight got you grinding back on Jongho as if returning the favour of him helping you ride your high.

Once both of your bodies relaxed, Jongho sagged and let his weight drop on you, positioning himself so that he wouldn't crush you with his weight but still enough to cover you with his warmth. You winced and whined when Jongho pulled his cock out of you, your hips chasing after him made Jongho grin. With his newfound freedom, Jongho pushed his pants completely off and kicked them to the floor and the garment was soon joined by his now wrinkled shirt. Just as quickly as Jongho took his clothes off, he returned to his spot whilst pulling his blanket, covering you to your chest before pulling you into his arms.

"I don't know how I got so lucky with you," he said as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You bit back a smile that may threaten to split your face to reciprocate, kissing him right on his neck mole. Despite it being a gentle kiss, Jongho still shuddered and you adored him for that. "And I don't know how I got so lucky with you. I love you, Jongho, so much," you said, resting your cheek firmly on his chest which allowed you to feel how hard Jongho's heart was beating.

"I love you too, my love. More than you know," he said before letting his eyes close to rest for the night.

Although you were laid in his arms, Jongho felt as if he was the one being embraced, enveloped in love and affection. It was the kind of feeling that encompassed him so comfortably that it lulled him to sleep. In the safety of his haven.

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saerins · 1 year

Text

─── 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.7k | content: angst, an alternate ending for this fic: whole

notes: for @veraberaxx who requested for this !! i know some of you guys would’ve stayed with nagi okay <3 he’s such a precious one here

summary: sae rarely knows what he’s doing when he comes to you. and sometimes, by the time he figures it out, it’s all way too late and you’re too far gone.

sae remembers you better than he can make sense of. you, and every little thing you do.

how you overcook your eggs in the morning when he’s on video call with you. how you make his bad days so much better without even having to try because you’re the only person in the world who can make him laugh. how your hands feel against his cheeks when you’re admiring him in that cute way you do.

god, he misses you. and he’s never been able to understand why people constantly feel the need to be around each other physically until now.

a conversation that was supposed to be a pastime haunts him.

“you sure it’s what’s best for her though?”

sae blinked, having no clue what his captain was even alluding to. “what are you talking about?”

his captain sighed, leaning back against the door, crossing his arms. “i mean, she’s probably waiting for you right? to go home?”

of course you are. you’re always waiting for him. what was his captain going on about?

“are you ever going to?”

is he?

he finds himself stuck; he’s not sure. there’s the part of him that yearns for you, that wants you around, that wants to live somewhere where you can be by his side.

“i mean, i could ask her to move with me.” it was a valid option, right?

his captain shook his head. “dude, then what happens if you break up? she’ll have uprooted her whole damn life for you, moved away to some faraway place.”

it was something he couldn’t find a response to. and maybe now he’s regretting not having more experience in this field because what’s he supposed to do? he wants you, yes. he wants to make this work, yes.

but can he? he doesn’t fucking know.

sae’s horrible at this.

how does he do this? how can he speak normally to you after all the thinking he’s done? he wants to be with you, really. but how can he be when you’re so far away? when he doesn’t know when or if he’ll come back?

“sae, you there?”

he’s pulled back into the present when you call his name. he can’t even remember what you were talking about before he zoned out.

“yeah, sorry i’m here, was just tired,” he offers, aware that he’s been tired a lot lately. but you keep believing him, maybe because he is but not in the way you think.

physically, yes maybe. but it’s not something he can’t tolerate. but mentally? it’s the biggest toll he’s ever taken. and as much as he doesn’t want to, maybe he can’t keep doing this to you. can’t keep stringing you along with him, with his unsureness and his doubts.

“i- look, i-i know it’s hard but we can—”

fuck, this is way harder than he thought it’d be. hearing your voice crack is enough to make him lose his mind. which is why he does this swiftly, can’t have you swaying his heart when he’s made up his mind.

maybe he should’ve chosen a better timing to break up with you than in the locker room right before his next game. it’s stupid, yeah, but he knows if he doesn’t get it done now he’s just going to delay it until he doesn’t even want to do it anymore.

sae’s phone vibrates right after he hangs up, and he feels his heart breaking into pieces reading your message.

you don’t want me anymore, sae?

he does. he really does. but he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with this, with himself, with you. he really wants to keep you forever, but he can’t.

maybe it’s pathetic. and maybe it’s an excuse. but maybe if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

he hopes it will be.

it’s stupid, stupid, stupid. it’s so fucking stupid.

sae does it anyway.

he types nagi seishiro into the stupid google search because just who is this guy, anyway? he’s a little peeved about having your stories with him pop up all the time.

“just don’t watch it, stupid.”

“fuck off, rin.”

as if it was that easy.

scores of articles pop up in his phone, all relating to how nagi seishiro is soccer’s next top genius or upcoming star player. sae feels a scowl on his face as he presses into one of the article headers—nagi seishiro, bachelor no more?

and there it is, a picture of you and nagi walking down the street, hand in hand and sae wants to kill himself right now. nobody else is supposed to be intimate with you like that, and he had thought he knew what he was signing up for when he broke up with you so evidently he thought wrong.

but he isn’t given any time to heal a broken heart, and he thinks he deserves it anyway because it’s his fault that the both of you are where you are in the first place, so maybe he’ll just have to keep on living like this, with half his heart displaced and his devotion always wavering.

sae’s almost sure he can keep this game up—this game of ignoring your existence. it’s the only way he’ll make it out of this alive. but one day he’s bound to slip up.

and that happens to be tonight, when he’s tipsy and forlorn.

your number’s the first one he calls as he sits on his balcony, admiring the view that’s pretty lacklustre without you in it. barely five rings and you pick up.

but it’s not your voice.

“hello?”

by his guesses, it’s nagi. sae has to look at the clock on his phone. it’s 10pm in spain, which means it’s 5am in japan—and nagi’s the one picking up your calls?

“um—”

sae’s rehearsed countless situations of what he might say when you picked up depending on your reaction, but how was he supposed to know someone else was going to pick up?

what the fuck is he supposed to say to your boyfriend?

“oh,” nagi says, voice fading away slightly before coming back. “you’re itoshi sae.”

“yeah.”

“y/n’s washing up right now,” nagi tells him, carefree. “want me to tell her to call you back?”

“no, that’s fine.” because there’s no need for that. because sae’s going to dig himself a hole and lay in it. you probably won’t be able to reach him.

nagi says okay, and sae thinks he’s about to hang up when he hears him ask a question, “do you still love her or something?”

“no.”

nagi hums, “you’re a terrible liar. why would you be calling her at this timing then?”

“wrong number.”

“still terrible.”

“okay bye.”

“wait—” nagi calls out just before sae hangs up and he pauses for a while. sae can hear you humming in the background before you fade away again. it’s torture, really.

“what do you want?” sae sighs. he’s tipsy and in no mood to talk to anyone but you.

cruel, cruel world.

“if you’re not done with her,” nagi sighs too, because both of them would rather be talking to you than each other. “maybe you should tell her.”

sae’s just a little taken aback because why is your boyfriend telling your ex to talk to you with such intentions?

“don’t get me wrong, i’m taking better care of her than you ever did,” nagi says, getting on sae’s nerves, “but she thinks you hate her. and i really don’t like to see her sad.”

sae feels his heart dropping to the ground.

“i’d like to tell her that you’re so in love with her that you’re still calling her at 5am, but i’m not gonna.”

“you’re weird.”

“maybe,” nagi compromises, “but at least i’m not the stupid one who let her go.”

after a long pause, nagi resumes, “it’ll be too late soon if you don’t speak up.”

and then all sae can hear is the dial tone, and all he can feel is misery.

sae didn’t realise what nagi meant by it being too late if he didn’t speak up soon. that’s why he’s now running across the airport like a madman, it’s why everyone and everything drowns into the background, like they’re half-muted and swirling together.

in his bid to forget you, he’s been avoiding going on social media at all. he’s gone complete radio silence on everyone except for his teammates. he’s been so far less of himself that even his own brother is tired of trying to reach out to him.

it’s been several months since then.

maybe it’s a cruel joke that’s playing on him now; the day he comes back online, the day he decides to take nagi’s stupid advice—you’re already engaged to him.

you’re about to become mrs nagi soon and sae’s really never going to forgive himself.

it’s funny how easily the realisation comes to him; how he can never get over you, how he should’ve never pushed you away. he wants your good morning texts and your goodnight kisses, your bad cooking because he’s worse at it. your laugh, he wants to hear it next to his ear while you’re both about to fall asleep. everything about you—he wants it.

and he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing right now, he’s running on pure adrenaline. he’s not even dressed for a wedding—not in his black sweater and black slacks. but fuck this, he thinks, stealing a cab from someone else, he just needs to see you. has to.

it’ll be too late soon if you don’t speak up.

nagi was long ready to propose to you. he probably already had a ring by the time sae got up the guts to call you.

it’s 1pm and he doesn’t even know if you’ve said your vows yet. he can’t remember anything rin told him over the phone and now his brother isn’t even picking up. nobody’s posting anything online either, fuck.

doesn’t help that his cab driver’s a foul mouth with an equally foul temper.

“could you drive faster?”

“oh sure, why don’t i just tell all the traffic lights to make way for little prince over here?”

sae sinks into the seat. today is really not his day, but he’ll screw the universe before he lets it tell him that he shouldn’t be doing this.

it’s 1.23pm by the time sae reaches the church, and the tall black doors never looked more intimidating. it looms over him, and he’s almost afraid to open it. but he has nothing more to lose except for you—so he opens the double doors anyway, runs down the corridors until he’s at the right hall; and it’s too loud the way he flings the doors open, the way the silence rings in his head when everyone in the room turns to face him.

sae’s only looking at you though, and even from this distance he can see your gaze fixed on him—like how everyone else’s is—and then the hushed whispers start to come but he doesn’t care for that. he catches rin in the crowd too, wide-eyed and with that what the fuck are you doing stare.

it’s clear that sae has no clue what he’s doing, why else would he be crashing a wedding he wasn’t even invited to? but his gaze turns back to you and sae freezes in the middle of the aisle, cheeks and nose red from the cold and he can see the sorrow in your eyes as you hold nagi’s hands.

sae opens his mouth until he catches you shaking your head, and then he stops. that’s when you break his heart to save him the further humiliation.

you turn back to nagi and smile the sweetest sae’s ever seen you smile.

“i do.”

sae would’ve already gone home if rin hadn’t stopped him. he would’ve been on the first flight back to spain by now but instead he’s here, at your wedding reception, entertaining rin’s friends.

“not my friends,” he grumbles, but it sure seems like it.

entertaining these guys isn’t his first choice, but he supposes it’s much better than watching the videos they’re playing of you and nagi’s time together up until now.

“hey, can i borrow him for a while, you guys?”

it’s cruel how you ask him to follow you, how you invite him to the dance floor. how he has to put his hand on your waist and know that it’s not leading to anything more, that you’re not his and you never will be.

“so, what do i owe the pleasure of you gatecrashing my wedding?”

you look beautiful. you smell pretty. you’re everything he wants.

sae doesn’t answer. you already know it anyway.

“sei told me,” you say, still not looking at him. “about how you called at 5am that one time.”

“oh, did he now.”

“mhm,” you nod your head and sae catches a whiff of your shampoo. his favourite. everything about you is his favourite. “you know, i wanted it to be you.”

sae looks confused and you chuckle, and god how he’s missed hearing that. “i dreamed of us being the ones to say i do, for a long time actually.”

he doesn’t know what to make of this, doesn’t know why you’re telling him all of this. he especially doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s the same for him.

“lucky for you it’s not me, then,” he chokes out, looking across the room at nagi, who nods at him. sae thinks that at least you ended up with someone who really seems to care about you.

you laugh nervously, “yeah, lucky me.” you’re soft, like you’re not convinced, but sae knows better than that. you’d never go through with it if you weren’t sure.

but she thinks you hate her. and i really don’t like to see her sad.

“i don’t, by the way.”

for the first time now, you look at him. “huh?”

“i don’t hate you, i never did,” sae explains, painfully aware that this is neither the time nor place but he doesn’t think he’ll ever see you or talk to you again so it’s now or never.

and you smile, and he loves that. loves you.

“how’s he treating you?”

“sei?” you turn to look at your husband, grinning from ear to ear when you see that isagi and reo are messing about with him. “he’s perfect.”

sae begs to differ. you are, that’s all he knows.

“good then.”

“what, are you planning to beat him up if i said no?”

“no,” sae scoffs. “but i’d steal you away.”

for a moment, your head lays on his chest and the way his heart beats brings you back to the present, to the fact that sae is someone from the past and he should stay there.

“so what now, itoshi sae?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him, an invisible line drawn between the both of you.

sae shrugs, and he knows what time it is. “back to spain, back to soccer, i guess.”

no longer back to you.

he now has an answer to his captain’s question.

“i’ll see you around, itoshi sae.” (you think you’d still have to watch his games when he plays because seishiro watches them. even if he says it’s a little disturbing that the one doing so well is your ex-boyfriend.)

“are you ever going to?”

no, he can’t go home anymore. it doesn’t exist.

sae nods. and he manages one last smile, a subtle one, a soft one, the one you’re so familiar with, the one you’ve been missing all this time. you press your lips together to stop yourself from smiling.

sae remembers you, and every little thing you do. especially how you manage to slip away from him, the only love he ever knew.

“sayonara, y/n.”

#itoshi sae x reader #bllk x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae angst #sae angst #itoshi sae imagines #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x you #sae x y/n #sae itoshi x y/n #sae itoshi x you #blue lock angst #blue lock imagines #૪ aeri’s fics !

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celestie0 · 26 days

Note

kickoff! reader who is stalking gojos page and accidentally likes one of his oldest posts. she panics and turns off her phone, without unliking it.

kickoff!gojo who is re reading your guys instagram messages and you text him while he’s doing this. he scrambles to come up with a reason as to why he read your message instantly

kickoff! reader who tries to watch soccer games to understand what’s happening. she probably yells offsides at everything. gojo can only smile at her and offer to help her out

kickoff! gojo who takes a picture of your silhouette in front of those statues you meet up at during the sunset (without your knowledge) and makes it his lock screen. you ask him about it but he just pretends that it’s a soccer goal and the sunset behind it.

kickoff! reader who finds herself thinking of satoru way too much. will see basically anything and be reminded of him. “oh a pair of sunglasses? gojo would like those” “hm, they started selling a strawberry tea? gojo would drink that”

kickoff! gojo who loves the sims. unironically makes a sim version of him and reader. tbh he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he just starts thinking about reader and starts adding her features. thinks it’s funny to make them have “fun time”

kickoff! reader who is looking through the game pictures she takes and finds herself staring at gojo. doesn’t even realize she’s doing it until mina walks in on her. think peter parker and gwen stacy

kickoff!gojo who has a full “project m’bappe” for your future kids. starts the kids off with a soccer plush and it leads to them being absolute powerhouses in toddler leagues

kickoff! reader who used to play soccer as a kid. threw a tantrum in the middle of a game because she decided she hated it. only started to like it again because of gojo

kickoff! gojo who keeps a printed out picture of the two of you in his wallet. Suguru took it at the frat party when gojo kissed you. around you is blurry and flashing lights, in the middle of the chaos is gojos lips pressed against yours. His hand is holding your waist, you’re slightly on your tippy toes to reach him. He sometimes zones off when paying because the picture catches his eye

BABE……..WHEN I TELL YOU IM BLUSHING N SQUEALING N KICKING MY FEET SM RN…..UHHH I THINK U MIGHT HAVE TO JUST TAKE OVER WRITING THE SERIES FOR ME??? bc i went thru sm emotions reading these pls 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ok first of all tysm for thinking of these and sending them to me???? i genuinely cannot believe youve made headcanons for my fic that’s so surreal n i will forever remember this 😭😭

BUT ALSO THESE ARE SO ACCURATE PLS and all the little details omg it means sm that youve noticed all these lil thinfs throughout the fic n their relationship n i cld cry rn 😭😭

pls excuse me for addressing each n every one of these bc im so excited by them i fear this ask will be long so i’m adding a keep reading loool

sobsosbsosbsbsossbb the headcanons ab their digital fuckups LMAOO omg reader is 100% the type to be stalking him at 3am even tho she swears shes not even THAT down bad for him n then she loses all feeling in her face when she realizes she liked a post from when he was like in high school or sumn🧍🏻‍♀️there’s no coming back from that LMFAOO but i feel like gojo wldnt even notice it bc he probs gets a lot of notifs so she’s safe this time around 😭😭 BUT YOURE ALSO SO RIGHT AB HIM REREADING MESSAGES N THEN GETTING SPOOKED WHEN HE REALIZES SHE SAW THAT HE READ IT RIGHT AWAY LMAO i feel like he’d pull something like “uhhhh i was just about to trxt you, that’s why” and she’s like “🤨 this is the fifth time that’s allegedly happened”

aww reader trying to understand soccer for him 😭 thats so cute bahah also i made another headcanon recently from another anon who mentioned gojo streaming the world cup hehe it’d be so cute if reader shows up to the frat game nights in the jersey of the team that gojo’s rooting for bc she’s just trying to be a supportive girlfriend n she gets excited watching the game but she’s actually got no clue what tf is going on 💀 but gojo adores her for it so thats ok

the lockscreeennn that’s so cute 😭 also i love the idea of reader being his muse too :”) like he doesn’t know much about photography but bc of her he’s like kinda curious about it now so he’s always taking pictures of her w his phone while she’s not looking :”) i imagine his camera roll is just a bunch of candids of her while she’s dissociating off into the distance or something 🤣 n he’s like “wow so pretty im so good at this”

OK BUT READER IS ME THINKING AB GOJO EVERYWHERE I GO LMAOO no but srs that one made heart skip a beat bc how sweeettt is that 😭 i think that is a true mark of love where u think of someone everywhere you go :”) for gojo, i imagine that anytime he sees anything scenic or colorful or something like blooms of flowers or a nice sky he thinks of how she wld probably really love to take pics of it n he gets sad she’s not there to do so

okk im down for sims boyfriend gojo 🤣 and wdym by fun time omg 😭 pls dont tell me it’s possible to make people BONK on sims. ive seen a lot of tiktoks recently about how they added gojo to stardew valley n ppl have been marrying him lmfaoo i wonder if gojo wld try to marry her in sims 💀 cant tell if thats cute or creepy PLS tbh i’d probs be like “aww babe”🧍🏻‍♀️

and YES AB THE ONE WHERE SHE STARES AT GOJO’s PICS THATS PRACTICALLY CANON, also, there was supposed to be a scene exactly like that in ch8 where mina walks in on her staring at the pics she was editing for her professor 😭😭 so ur 100% right on. i just bet he looks so handsome in those photos cuz he’s concentrated n sweaty n probs looks really determined n in his element tbf i’d be starinf at those pics too LOL

YOURE SO RIGHT HAHA he’d make sure their kids are soccer prodigies 😭😭 startin them YOUNG. reader’s like “dont u think they’ve practiced enough today…they’re supposed to go to that birthday party at noon” and he’s like “THE GRIND NEVER STOPS😤🔥” 💀💀 unironically the type of dad that wakes his kids up at 5am on summer break to take em to soccer bootcamp or sumn 😭😭 ok but he knows theyre just kids n lets them have fun haha obviously but he just has high expectations for them lmaoo

im so tender to the idea of reader having played soccer in her youuuuthh how cute wld it be if she unknowingly also had a crush on gojo back when they were kids (maybe there was some sort of co-ed game they played ONCE when their elementary schools organized it n she was like omg who’s that boy over theree n it’s just 8 y/o gojo who’s got all the 2nd grade girlies swooning even back then 🤣) but in adulthood she probably doesnt rememebr that at all haha OMGGGG I NEED TO MAKE THIS CANON BC HOW ADORABLE WOULD IT BE IF GOJO’s MOM HAD TAKEN A PICTURE OF THE GAME BACK THEN N U CAN SEE LITTLE GOJO N LITTLE READER ARE IN THE SAME PHOTO im gonna sob???? im so inspired by these rn??? anon??? can i fr hug u through the screen???

omggg ok im deceased im dead ab the PICTURE IN HIS WALLET. THAT IS SO HUSBAND CODED and adorabke asf i just might melt rn 😭 him getting distarcted while paying kakskddjhd also i can imagine him having a picture in his wallet of her in her cap n gown on n stoles n everything during graduation or something bc it reminds him of their college days :”) n when he’s playing away games during national league he’s always looking at it when he’s away from home bc he misses her

also i feel like suguru might’ve taken the photo as a polaroid 🤔 now i headcanon that kickoff reader also has a polaroid camera bc why wouldnt she lmfaoo 🤣 but just imagine the polaroid relationship wall LOL its so corny but i wld want them to make one together 😩💕

screaming. crying. feeling so inspired rn. cheesing. cheeks r hurting. love u sm anon srs if you have more i will gobble them up like a turkey. LOVE YOU <333

#I MEAN JUST HOW FUCKINF SWEET ARE MY READERS I CANT RN #😭😭😭#kickoff #asks #anon

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roses-r-rosie3 · 6 months

Text

Camping Trip

Jason Todd x M!Himbo!Reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst

Summary: Jason invites the reader to a camping trip with the Batfam and tries to give hints to the reader that he likes him the entire trip but the reader is completely oblivious to it and thinks Jason is just being friendly

Quote: “Dang dude you’re stuck in the friend zone”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Everyone in the family knew about Jason’s little crush on you, so it didn’t surprise them when he invited you along to the camping trip as his “plus one” (even though it was only supposed to be a family trip). Jason thought that bringing you along to a camping trip with his family would be the perfect place for him to finally confess to you.

All of his other attempts were.. interesting.. to say the least. It wasn’t his fault by any means, but you were just very.. oblivious. One time he took you out to the movies, and he tried the classic “stretching his arms around your shoulders” trick. He thought that you had finally got the hint that he liked you. But afterwards, he got hit with this…

BUDDY?!?

“Dang dude you’re stuck in the friend zone” Dick laughed as Jason showed him.

Hopefully this time you would finally get the hint. I mean he’s inviting you to a trip, WITH HIS FAMILY! Surely you weren’t that clueless, right?

It was the day of the trip and Bruce rented a van, problem was, Bruce didn’t know that Jason was inviting you until he already got the van. Jason got the bright idea for you to sit on his lap, but when he mentioned it to Bruce, Bruce immediately denied it.

Jason decided to take a separate car with you to drive there since you weren’t the best driver. There was a time when you let go of the steering wheel to pull out a paper map because your phone had no service. It still puzzles everyone how you passed your drivers test.

Jason tried giving hints even while he was driving. Turning on love songs, placing his hands on your thighs, etc. but you still weren’t getting it, instead just thinking that he was being friendly. When all of you got there, you all built the tents and set up the campfire.

“Jason” Dick whispered as he motioned for Jason to come to him.

Jason followed Dick to where no one else could hear them.

“Ok so, I packed some kayaks for the trip, why don’t you and y/n down there before us” Dick winked.

“Oh my god! Thank you so much Dick! I owe you for this one” Jason smiled before running off to go get you.

“Hey y/n, I was wondering if you wanted to come down to the river, Dick brought some kayaks” Jason asked.

“Sure!” You smiled before following Jason.

While you were kayaking, Jason rested his head on your shoulder, but you still weren’t getting it. You just thought he was tired from all of the driving. When the two of you finally came back to the camping grounds, you were met with Jason’s family who were giggling and snickering, Jason later found out that they were taking pictures of the two of you.

When it started to get dark, everyone stood around the campfire while making s’mores. Everyone was laughing while talking about embarrassing stories, ghost stories, and catching up. It was a really fun time for everyone.

When it came night-time, everyone had partners to sleep with. Bruce got his own tent, Stephanie and Cassie, Dick and Damian, Duke and Tim, and last but not least you and Jason. After everyone got ready for bed, they said their goodbye’s and went inside their individual tents to sleep.

“I had a lot of fun today” you smiled as you looked into Jason’s eyes.

“I did too, especially because you’re here” Jason smiled back cheekily.

You just giggled before cuddling into Jason’s chest and started to slowly drift asleep. Jason couldn’t help but to chuckle a bit before slowly falling asleep himself.

You suddenly woke up in the middle of the night, in need to use the restroom. You slowly slipped out of Jason’s grasp and quickly walked behind one of the trees before relieving yourself. After you were done you quickly squirted some hand sanitizer in your hand until you heard some shuffling behind you.

“Hello…?”

Jason awoke and saw that you weren’t there with him. Jason got out of the tent to quickly go look for you. He turned on his flashlight and started walking but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you were surrounded by a pack of wolves.

“Y/n! What are you doing! Run!” Jason yelled out, scaring the wolves away.

Before you could talk, Jason interrupted you.

“Are you kidding me y/n?! You could’ve gotten hurt!” Jason yelled out before stomped his way back to the tent.

You were quick to follow him back to the tent. When you finally got inside, Jason was silent, almost ignoring you.

“I’m sorry Jason, I didn’t mean to worry you” you apologized.

“Why would you do that y/n! You could’ve gotten hurt! I would’ve lost you!” Jason sobbed.

“I’m sorry, I just needed to use the restroom and-”

You were interrupted when Jason smashed his lips against yours. As your lips met, a tingling sensation ran through your body. You felt his hands gently cup her face as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a certain urgency, as if he could lose you at any moment. When the two of you pulled apart, you struggled to open your eyes for a bit.

“I- I’m so sorry y/n- I would completely understand if you hate me after this- I didn’t mean t-”

Now it was your turn to interrupt him as you pulled him in for another kiss. This time, the kiss was full of tenderness and passion, and intimacy. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close as you enjoyed the taste of him.

As you finally broke the kiss, you looked into each other's eyes, yours eyes were full of love, but not like before. Before, you looked at him in a friendly manner, but now, you looked at Jason with a special kind of love that made him feel warm.

“Thank you for saving me from those angry dogs Jason” you blushed.

“Wolfs y/n, they were wolfs” Jason chuckled.

“Awwwww how cute!!!” Stephanie giggled.

You and Jason immediately turned your head to see that not only was Stephanie there recording, everyone else was awake too.

“How long have you guys been watching for!” Jason yelled.

“We heard you screaming y/n’s name so we woke up and saw you guys talking to each other, and MAN I didn’t expect that to happen!” Tim said.

“Even im shocked” Damian commented.

“Sooooo… Are you guys together now?!” Dick asked impatiently.

“I guess so” you smiled.

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ieatangstforbreakfast · 6 months

Text

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ If y'all wanna be part of the taglist, answer this

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol

Chapter 5: Just A Girl, Just A Boy

Warning ೃ⁀➷ Foul language

FIC MASTERLIST

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

I like you.

Miles stares at the ceiling before him, the powder blue from the window fading from the lightness to a faint shade of pink. In almost every hour he’s spent just glaring at the plain wall before him, he thinks of you— your words, your frown, and most especially, the taste of your lips. His lips had grown too dry from the constant dabs from his tongue, that had grown too desperate to ensure it’s gotten every inch of your taste.

I like you. I like you. I like you.

With the flat of his two fingers, he fiddles with the bottom of his lip. He tries to trick his mind into thinking that it was you— nibbling on the mauve and marking it with the shade of pink you rouge your own with.

But why can’t there be an us?

He thinks of you as the devil. Stealing a kiss and walking off, but in a way it wasn’t your fault. As much as you did like him, you probably had your own reasons, and he felt shame for pressing you a little too much. But you’re fucking vicious in the way you’d kiss, which meant it probably wasn’t your first time. Unfair, Miles thinks. I’m going insane over you like this, while you’re probably drifting off to sleep.

And it devours him even in the weekdays.

You haven't texted nor replied in days.

You had him zoning out in the middle of his favorite class, pulling his phone out every break of basketball practice, and distracted even on his missions. To say you were his weakness would be an understatement; one word from you alone determined the way of his day. If you’d leave him hanging on the seenzone, he grows irritated of everything— leaving his friends utterly horrified of his silence. Miles had always been silent, but now he was just seemingly murderous. Hell, if only you’d reply with the same flirty twang you usually do, that'd ease him more, but there was nothing.

Even then, it’s not like you owed him anything.

"Morales," Mrs. Vincent sighs, handing his test paper faced downwards. Miles hesitantly accepts it, only to see a bright B- circled in red ink staring right back at him.

"This isn't a failing mark, but it's alarming as you've always had steady A's— and it isn’t just that, I’ve caught you using your phone too many times today." She pensively brought up. Miles hated that sort of look she bore, a kind of pity he despised. He's grown too exhausted to care, but that didn't entirely mean that the mark was not alarming. In fact, it was, and what was worse was his apathy.

With the tip of her pen, the woman taps against the flat of her broad desk. "Is there anything troubling you at this moment?"

"No, ma'am." He lies, gnawing at his cheek.

"... Look," She delicately starts. "I didn't call you in here for your grades' sake, I called you in here for your sake."

What's the point really? If he were to ever tell anyone that he got a B- in AP Physics just because of a girl, the damnation would hurt more from the embarrassment rather than the rejection.

"I just.. Haven't been sleeping well."

That was a truth, sparcely. Like a half-baked meal. It seemed more plausible, if anything, rather than confessing the whole truth. Mrs. Vincent leaned back into her chair. ".. Is that so? Have you tried going to the clinic for a check up?"

He shakes his head. "No. I don't need to go to the clinic, ma'am. It'll pass in about a week."

At least, within the week, he'll learn of your answer.

Mrs. Vincent seemed only half-convinced. In the shallow tension, Miles hears the edge of her chair scraping, watching as she sits up taller. "Morales, you're a smart boy, but sometimes, you tend to overestimate your capabilities. That'll only drain you, and if it does, you'll get burnt out."

Miles stares and stares, mentally rereading and repeating the highlighted word 'irrevocable' on one of his classmates' papers. He didn't need this speech, he thinks. Some sort of bullshit that'll exit his mind the moment he walks out the door. But in the midst of her talking, Miles suddenly picks up.

"I know it must've been hard for you ever since the incident three years ago. I heard your father was... One of the casualties—"

"Ma'am." He blurts out. "Please, can I go home?"

She swallows the thick lump at her throat, taken aback by his forwardness.

"... O-of course."

And he's off to his own little world again. Away from the world he’s spent three, agonizing years grieving over. For once, he wanted to part from the tragedy that embodied him, and he wanted to brood like every other teenage boy.

Why can’t we be?

The two of you crossed the line of being friends the moment you latched your hand over his collar and mercilessly dragged him down for a kiss. You liked him, and he knew— knew too damn well about it. Your eyes weren’t great at lying, at least, not when it came to him. You hated wanting him, and yet you loved it all at the same time.

And that was also what he felt for you.

Weekend meetings, unspoken pasts. Miles knew not a thing about your family or your life, at times he’d think you’re a thriller, a mystery in the form of the prettiest face he’s ever seen. You were too damn good with words when they came off as casual flirts, but when it came to explaining your damn feelings, you were an utter mess.

But that's what he absolutely adored about you.

It was about that part of you that left him searching for you in the middle of the night.

When Thursday night arrived, Miles found himself trudging through the leaf-fallen streets of Brooklyn in search of you. Searching for a glimpse, a memory, or at least a semblance of you in the autumn weather. He could almost picture your figure prancing around him, could almost hear the sound of your giggles. Suddenly, the streets weren't as warm as they first seemed.

Instead, only hues of cold blue and silver surrounded him, like a dead winter that's yet to come.

Miles often walked the streets as though it all belonged to him. In a way, he was feared as a vigilante behind a mask. But at that moment, he wanted to own the streets as Miles Morales, and not the vicious Prowler half of New York eyed. In those streets, he didn't want to scheme about what he'd have to do and how he has to keep the borough safe.

Miles simply wanted to wander these streets as a lovestricken boy, which he was. Behind the mask, he was still a boy.

A boy who was so terribly in love with you.

All he needed was a yes.

But all you needed was space.

"I need time to think about.. This." He recalls you mumbling while holding onto his icy hands. "I need to sort out my thoughts about this first." At that moment, Miles adequately nodded, finding solace in your short answer.

You needed space, and Miles wanted to respect that. He'd been too harsh with you, he thinks.

But you thought of it as a wake up call— a sort of harsh pull from the icy waters you considered your comfort space.

It was also all that devoured your mind; the guilt was your most often visitor. You couldn’t look at his messages— you feared you’d say the wrong thing in text.

That morning, you’d suffered an incident.

"Fuck!"

You yelp, crashing down less than gracefully. You slam your palm against the floor, cursing a hundred curses beneath your breath. Victor, your partner, kneels before you worriedly, repetitively checking on you. Drearily, you deny his worries. "I'm fine, I'm fine— stop."

"Are you alright?" Eleanor steps in, peering over your leg. "Do you have a sprain? Can you walk?"

"I can—" As you try to move your leg, a piercing pain shoots through your ankle. You bite back another curse. "I'm fine. I just need to ice it— I'll be fine." Was your attempt to reassure her. Eleanor places a palm over her head, evidently frustrated. "I told you to slow down. The performance is in a week, is this what you plan on showing your audience?"

"I apologize. I haven't been feeling well as of late."

You can almost sense the disappointment scribbled all over her face. You didn't even have to look at her, the feeling was just all too familiar to miss. "… For now, I'll go fetch an assistant to aid you. Victor, help her up." Only then, Eleanor exits the room, leaving the both of you inside.

You couldn’t even focus on the damn tango. Everything was ruined for you— Miles ruined everything for you. All you could think of was twirling into his arms, and feeling the warmth of his hands over your waist.

You wanted it to be him. Wished for it to be him.

You glance at Victor awkwardly. And in your guilt, you ended up uttering a small apology. He reaches out a hand for you to hold, aiding you as you stood up. Begrudgingly, you limp towards one of the nearby seats. Victor stands before you, removing himself off of you as soon as you sat down.

"Are you alright?"

The question sparked something in you. Something most would call annoyance.

"I'm fine." You fake a smile. "Don't worry much."

Uptight, a little too uptight.

The whole thing about Miles bothered you in almost every aspect of your life, but no one noticed. Maybe some did, but no one asked. Was that better or was that heartbreaking?

You needed a break, and it was oh-so-graciously delivered when midnight dawned.

You often dreamed about drowning.

The feeling was unlike any other. You could still remember, the waters enveloping you in an icy embrace, as it seeped into your body, tempting you to become one with the ocean. You felt the cold blanket you, yet just like every other day, you felt this weirdly serene feeling enveloping your chest. It was like sleeping in the softest bed one could ever make.

You pulled your knees up to your chin, wrapping your hands around your shins as you allowed your mind to go completely blank.

You lifted your head and began to breathe again. Thus, your consciousness returned to the sights of the private pool. You effortlessly floated in the waters, eyes glued onto the dim ceiling. Like a corpse floating into the abyss. The dimness reminded you of the ocean at night, a sight that vanished along with the summer.

For the past days, you’ve been thinking about Miles.

Thinking about what to do, how to answer him.

“[Y/n]," A familiar voice calls out. Immediately, you stick your head out the water— finding a pair of eyes similar to your own staring right back at you. "Hey."

"Malachi." You call out to your younger brother. "It's midnight, sweetie. What brings you here?"

Timid and soft-spoken, you often insisted that Malachi was the best of all four of you, a true epitome of his name's meaning. Baby brother, you often teased. Somehow, the nickname remained befitting of him even though he's already ten. Time's always been your worst enemy.

"You weren't at dinner. I've been looking for you." He softly states, crouching before you like a frog. "Fernando cooked amish chicken, a-and I helped him cook, so I saved you a plate."

Sweet boy.

"Thank you, Mal." Your lips tug a small smile. "I'm sorry I missed dinner."

"It's fine." Malachi dips his tiny hand into the cold water. "I-I know you're busy and all that, so I just wanted to check if you're okay." Malachi pulls his hand back, wiping the water away on his shirt. "Seeing as how you're swimming right now, you're probably not okay."

You lift yourself up and rest your head over your crossed arms. "Wow, you really know me well, hm?" You flick your fingers at him, tiny droplets splashing at his face. Malachi giggles, wiping the water of him. ".. Of course, I do. It's what you always do." He splashed back at you. "But, why aren't you okay?"

You think of an easier way to explain your little situation.

".. I'm not okay because I've made one of my friends sad." You vaguely reply, allowing your lower half to float along with the rest of your body. "And because I made them sad, I'm trying to find a way to fix everything."

It was ironic, since you were the one refusing to look at his messages.

"... Have you tried saying sorry?" Malachi suggests. "Sorry always cuts it."

"... Not this time, Mal." You sadly smile. "I wish saying sorry could fix all of my problems."

Most of your problems consisted of people who wronged you first anyway. Plus, you weren't saintly enough to apologize to those who did you wrong— who the fuck were they to get an apology out of you?

You poke at Malachi's toe, hoping to hear his little laughs just to drain the heavy feelings inside of you for a moment, but he hums, almost like he's lost in thought, thinking a little too hard about your situation.

"... Maybe you didn't say it enough." He sat beside you, sticking his feet into the water. "Or maybe you said sorry about the wrong thing."

"About the wrong thing?" You repeat. Malachi nods. "Didn't you tell me that before I say sorry, I should first find out why I'm supposed to be apologizing in the first place?"

"That's right."

"Well, did you know why you had to apologize?"

Of course, you do.. You...

You sat there, thinking about it.

Malachi lifts his finger. "Maybe that's the reason why she's mad at you: you lied."

'Just tell me the truth.' You remember him saying so clearly.

Oh. Now, it all made sense.

"Huh." You breathlessly huff. "Since when did you get so mature?" Your fingers reach to lightly pinch his cheek. "My baby brother's getting all big now, hm?"

Malachi pouts. "I'm only telling you the things you tell me."

Right, it's easier to speak than to act.

"If only I could stop time like this, let you be my baby brother forever.” You murmur, beaming at his doe-like eyes. In a way, they reminded you much of a certain someone’s.

“… Now, let me go get a taste of your cooking." You swiftly dragged yourself out the pool. You reach for the towel just to dab it all over your limbs, when suddenly, you hear a short ding emit from your phone. As you dry your hair, your fingers tap over the screen, only to find:

Miles || 14 minutes ago

im at commodore rn

It was stupid.

Miles missed you a little too much. It was beyond your schedule, hell, beyond your limits. But for some reason, he finds himself still sending the text in hopes you'd arrive.

His shoulders droop, phone nearly brushing past the tips of his fingers. He kicks at the dirt beneath him, nudging the swing to sway. He didn't want to wait for tomorrow, you've left him sulking for five days— utterly desperate to hear how you sorted out your thoughts in the time he's spent yearning to fucking kiss you.

He needed to know. What was it entirely that made you so scared?

He had a million theories, but not one did he ever really stick onto.

But there was one that had been chewing at his back for a while now.

He stares at the night sky, feeling the cold wind envelop him. Miles had grown used to the cold- as the apprentice of the Prowler, he often stalked the streets in brick weather, at the peak of buildings where the winds were angrier. But for some reason, it was much colder tonight.

When rain started splattering against his cheeks, Miles knew.

"Fuck." He quietly cursed, pulling his hoodie over his head. An array of colorful curses exit his lips, the downpour of the rain heavy and merciless.

He picks himself up from the swing, off to search for a place to shelter himself from the livid skies.

It rained just like this when you two first met.

Hotel Primm, he remembers. The Greek pillars, the antique architecture, and the large, curtained windows. He remembers, never once forgot the place and all of the horrors it hid. He remembers gripping the can of red spray paint in his hand while marveling at your drenched beam. The wound was still fresh, even after three years. He believed you two shared the same sentiment. In the midst of the beautiful building that had buried hundreds of bodies, Miles watched you emerge from the shadows and enter the limelight that escaped from the windows. And with that pretty face of yours, you offered him. "Do you want to wreck this place together?"

Miles sensed that he'd always been a little too familiar with your figure.

Especially right now.

"Miles!"

Why were you in the hotel that night?

"Hey, wait!"

That hotel housed more bodies than a cemetery, why did you vandalize the place with him that night? Who did you lose in that incident?

He figured it would be a private matter— but you knew what had happened to his dad. If you did lose someone that night, you would've told him.

Why didn't you?

"Yo!" Your call bellows from across the pavement, paired with a couple coughs. Drenched in rain, you glided past the streets on a bike. You waved your hand, halting him immediately. There, everything seems to move at this glacially slow pace.

And that same piercing pain shoots at his head again. In that crimson hallucination, your figure approaches him like a lagging shadow, appearing next to his ear while whispering something he couldn't decipher. When you pull away, he finds your eyes glowing in this shade of scarlet— a menacing allure that even lulled him into enchabtment. In that vision, your voice in the present and your voice in his mind begin to overlap.

“Miles,”

“Miles.”

“Never forgive, never forget.”

"Miles, FUCK—"

Miles snaps from his thoughts at the sound of you crashing down. In the blink of an eye, you’re sprawled out on street– covered in slush. He sprints straight out to aid you, picking the bike up away from your body. Only then, he grabs your arm, picking you up from the jagged ground.

"Are you fucking crazy!?"

He yells, the sound of his voice muffled by the heavy pour. "Dumbass— the fuck are you doing, biking around in the middle of the rain like that? Are you hurt? You okay?”

You only burst out laughing at his worries.

"God I fucking hate myself."

You mumble in between wheezes. You rub your hand across your face in an attempt to clear your sights, holding onto Miles. Your lips part to speak. “God, I’m so fucking dumb— oh, god, I’m definitely going to get killed tomorrow. But it’s fine—“ You look at him. “I’m fine, yeah, so long as I get to do this.”

Miles looked at you confusingly as you rambled.

"Miles," You call out again, voice like gravel from your exhaustion. "I did it. I've made up my mind." You announce like some proud child. "I'm sorry, for hurting you, and for running away— I-I'm sorry for leaving you on read. Truth is, I'm an absolute fucking mess, like I’m going through a fuck ton of shit. And I'm scared of hurting you because of my bullshit, because– because I like you so much.”

There it was. The truth.

“I like you— and as much as I am a mess, I don’t want to ever lose you.” With a hand over your heart, you swear. “I ain’t gonna say shit about you deserving better, because I’ll be better. All for you.” Your hand skims through the air. “I might be fucked up in more ways than one, but I swear,”

"Motherfucker, didn't you fucking know that, that's the reason why I fucking like you so much?"

“Don’t— stop—“ You put a finger over his lips, hushing him. "Stop romanticizing my mental instability, that’s just adding up to my theory that my lore made me hotter." You laugh, head leaning backward from glee. This causes you to nearly slip, making you grip onto Miles' hand. His own subtly latches onto your waist just to catch you. You hardly even notice, but Miles simply watches, adoring this sight of you, crazily laughing beneath all the rain.

Miles, a vigilante feared by many after picking up the mantle to be the Prowler, had a heart. Most had nearly forgotten about this fact— as it had hardened all throughout the years— but he did have one.

Small and soft.

Flesh and blood.

Human. Nothing else.

Seeing you smile like that, laughing it all off, was enough of a reminder for Miles to remember that he’s just a boy. Not a masked avenger renowned for scraping through the hellish alleys while shouldering all of New York’s safety—

but a normal boy, still capable of liking, loving.

"Anyways, um," You manage to ease down momentarily. "I’ve been wanting to ask this for a long while now but.. W-would you like to go out sometime?" You finally blurt out.

He shakes his head. "That's my line, ma."

"Fuck that and fuck gender norms!"

"Nah, chivalry ain't dying tonight." He places his hands over your brows, shielding your eyes from the rain. There, your sights cleared up upon the sight of him, as though he were the sun dawning in the midst of a thundering sky.

“Would you go out with me, [Y/n]?”

You cup his cheeks, grinning widely. “Yes. I would love to.” Your lips then pressed a tiny peck on the tip of his freckled nose.

Miles squeezes a smile in between your hands, eventually poking a finger into his lips.

“How ‘bout ere?” He pouts. “Ain’t I gettin sum here?”

“C-can I?”

“Can you?” The question took him by surprise. He straightens his lips. “You didn’t seem to hesitate at all last week.”

“I-I’m sorry. I really should’ve asked you first but—“

“Mami, estoy bien.” He reassures of you. “Ahora quiero mi beso.”

Steadily, you arch your toes, reaching out for his lips. This time, he bends over to reach you— and when he does, your lips gently collide with a small peck. So short, momentary, and it hardly fulfills his yearning. At that moment, your gazes meet, but his were constantly shifting between the gleam in your eyes and the smudged rouge on your lips. Miles pulls the hoodie of your jacket over your head, fingers tracing down behind the lines of yours ears and down to the nape of your neck.

“Aye bendito, I waited too long for this.”

He murmurs before pulling you in to crash his lips against yours. The rough way he does it was foreign— his lips roaming to taste you, gnawing at the cherry flavor of your gloss. You wrap your arms around his neck, mulling him down to your level. When your lips would part, you’d feel him slyly smirking at your desperation.

“We still friends, mami?” He whispers. “You gon’ tell me that shit again?”

You airily shook your head.

“Buena nena,” He sighs. “Cause if this is how you be treatin yo friends, ain’t nobody gonna live to see the light of day again.”

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